Split (1)

train · 64k rows

id stringlengths 4 8	title stringlengths 0 255	metadata dict	text stringlengths 0 12.6M
10331774	Kitchen Brigade	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": null, "Characters": "Sheriff Stilinski, Chris Argent, Allison Argent, Jordan Parrish, Stiles Stilinski, Talia Hale, Peter Hale, Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Erica Reyes", "Fandom": "Teen Wolf (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Guede", "chapters": "11/11", "completed": "2017-03-26", "published": "2017-03-17T00:00:00", "words": "61,037", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Full Shift Werewolves, Fractured Fairy Tale, Crack Treated Seriously, Sheep, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alive Hale Family, Slow Build, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Cooking, Accidental Death, ALLEGEDLY, Hurt/Comfort, Gallows Humor, Rough Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Food Sex, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Young Peter Hale, Young Derek Hale, Stiles and His Sheep Posse, Werewolf Culture, Incest, Polyamory, Werewolf Courting, Interspecies Awkwardness", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Chris Argent/Sheriff Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Peter Hale, Derek Hale/Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski", "Series": "The Sheep Chronicles", "Collections": "For the Giggles", "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 }	John doesn’t know the first damn thing about cooking.When he and his son took that first step outside the city he’d lived in and protected nearly his whole life, just because he made the mistake of insisting on doing his job, he knew that things were going to change and that they’d have to adapt. He told Stiles, and meant it, that they’d figure it out, and never have to worry about being able to keep their heads up. They’d survive. Exile wasn’t going to take them down.Well, a couple years on and John’s not dead. As far as he knows—and he knows his son—Stiles isn’t dead either. But, he thinks, staring at the wagonload of rotting potatoes the village headman is trying to shove onto him, he might just be a little envious of his absent son right now. Because he’s tried and tried and he still doesn’t know anything about cooking, but even without knowing anything, he’s got a feeling he’s being screwed over.“This is what we owe,” the headman insists. He grabs a potato off the wagon and knocks it sharply against the edge of the wagon rail, then turns the new dent in it towards John. “See? Best quality, just out of the ground. Just like your boss wants.”“They have black spots,” John sighs.The headman laughs, tosses the potato back onto the wagon, and then swings around to drop his arm across John’s shoulders. “Because they’re black potatoes! Local specialty, very good fried. We’ve eaten them for generations and look at how strong and healthy we are!”Like any sensible place hosting a deputation from the local garrison, the village has been completely emptied out of any reasonably-young, capable-looking men or women. A couple old men are minding the oxen, while one middle-aged man with a twisted leg mans the local brewery. He limps up just then and offers a round of undrinkably sour beer, which John nevertheless has to drink as the headman goes on to talk about the rough times they’ve been having lately, about how hard it’s been just to keep themselves fed, and oh, yes, about how they’ve still been dutiful subjects despite the fact that the garrison’s about three months behind on paying them for supplies.John winces into his beer at the last part, since one thing he has managed to get to know, much against his personal inclination, is the quartermaster. “Well, I will report that as soon as I get back,” he says, handing over a receipt for the current wagonload. He and the headman smile at each other and he just catches a flicker of contempt in the other man’s eyes. “Speaking of, these times you sent for help…”“Oh. Oh, never mind, let’s get you another beer!” the headman says, waving at the other villager. “To the garrison!”“Right,” John says, and surreptitiously sloshes out half of what he’s still got while the headman’s got his back to him. “But listen, more than one village has said they’ve been attacked by walking corpses. That wouldn’t happen to be your problem too, would it?”“Walking dead?” the headman repeats. He slews around and sizes John up, and for a second John thinks that he might have just gotten through. But then that oily smile breaks out over the man’s face again. “I don’t know what they were drinking, sir, but right here we do our burials like the law tells us. No, no trouble here, we were just mistaken about it anyway. We don’t want to stir anything up.”This is going to be a dead end, and on top of that, John’s going to have to take these shitty potatoes and then explain to his idiot-to-willfully-incompetent superiors why they can’t eat non-rotten food, let alone food like back in the capital. Still, he swallows his sigh and sets his shoulders, and tries a last time. “Look, I’ve seen the walking corpses. I know what they do.”“…then you need two beers,” the headman says, looking him over. A slap to John’s back that gives him an excuse to spill his remaining drink, and then the headman hoists him roughly straight with a hand under the arm. “Trust me, that’ll straighten that eyesight of yours right now. How long you been out here? Different, right? None of your fancy magic here.”“Yeah,” John says. A potato falls off the wagon and rolls to right in front of them, so soft with rot that the skin splits and the insides are nearly the same color as the smelly, peat-laden mud they’re standing on. “Yeah, it’s different.”* * An hour later, when they finally get out of the village, John gets up onto the wagon seat with the one guard he’s allowed to take with him on these supply-gathering trips. Jordan’s a local. He’s also smart, and somehow, he hasn’t let that embitter him or draw him into corruption, which is probably why he’s the one stuck guarding the exiled asshole. “So I asked around,” Jordan says, his shrug already telling John that it hasn’t done any good. “Wild animal attacks. Also they’ve got a big bonfire circle out back with a couple layers of fresh ashes. And the crops aren’t doing great, but they’re making enough off timber to be paying out-of-towners to come in and do their hunting for them.”John grimaces, and then again as the wagon rattles over a dip in the road. A potato rolls down onto the seat with him and he grabs it before it falls off, then tosses it to head off the left-hand ox, who’s getting too interested in some of the overgrowth spilling into the road. The ox shies away from the damn thing with such a revolted rush that it nearly bumbles into the right-hand ox.“Maybe they’re putting all the good potatoes towards that, too,” Jordan says, eyeing John a little. He picks one off the load and starts to lift it towards his face like he means to take a sniff, only before it gets there, his thumb goes right into a rotten spot. Yelping, he hurriedly stuffs the potato back onto the pile and then wipes his hand. “Hiring mercs, that’s not going to go over well with the good commander, but if you’re desperate…can’t blame them.”“I don’t think Rafael’s going to give a damn,” John mutters. The wagon bumps again and from the sound of it, they lose some more potatoes, but he can’t bring himself to look back. He’s slipping, he’s known that for a while; sheer professional pride does have its limits, as it turns out. “Besides, potatoes and timber aren’t going to buy them that much out here. Be better off clubbing together to send somebody to one of the great libraries and just do some reading.”Jordan makes a curious noise. “Oh? So how much does a good merc cost, anyway?”That’s why he’s so willing to go out on the spindly, ever-sinking limb John’s on, John assumes—he’s got some sort of exit plan of his own and it involves extracting as much knowledge as he can out of John. “Depends on what you’re hiring them for.”A flicker of exasperation crosses Jordan’s face, but he mostly plays along, which is one reason why John doesn’t mind being exploited for information. “All right, then, hunting so-old-they’re-legendary undead creatures,” he prompts.The other main reason’s that he’s willing to actually talk about revenants, when most of the locals would rather cut off a limb than even acknowledge they know what that term means. Why, John still hasn’t been able to find out, even though he’s made it clear enough that unlike the rest of the garrison leadership, he does in fact believe the things exist, but it’s incredibly frustrating. “Well, that’s kind of a specialist area. So either you’re paying for somebody with that kind of rare knowledge, or you’re paying for somebody who doesn’t know a damn thing but who’s willing to just go after anything,” he tells Jordan.Jordan nods thoughtfully. “So you’re selling out the village or you’re getting rid of your local idiot on the cheap.”“Pretty much.” John spots a pothole coming up and drags at the reins, trying to steer the wagon around it, but the oxen stubbornly plod along without minding him.The resulting jolt sends enough potatoes falling out of the back that, rotten or not, the quartermaster and the head cook, John’s direct superior, are both going to make something of the loss. John weighs things up, then sighs and hands the reins over to Jordan and climbs on down to pick them up. Once he’s done that, he stays walking behind the wagon, keeping an eye on the load.A growing part of him honestly and sincerely wonders whether resigning and disappearing into the backcountry would be a better idea, seeing as he doubts anyone would object to his resignation. But, he reminds himself, this is where Stiles knows to find him, and when his son comes back from whatever he’s up to, John wants him to have a father waiting for him. Can’t have both of them running around wild.“What I’m supposed to be saying to him, not to me,” John mutters to himself, eyeing the potatoes. He watches a teetering bunch of them, then takes off his coat and moves around the wagon to use it to catch the ones that fall at the next pothole.And he thinks he hears something, buried in all the oxen’s grunting, the creak of the badly-oiled wagon, Jordan’s annoyingly jaunty whistling. John frowns and takes a step back, absently bouncing the potatoes in his coat. He walks alongside the wagon for a few more yards, listening, and then snags some more falling tubers. Then he slings them back into the wagon.“Getting ahead on your mash?” Jordan calls over one shoulder, hearing the squishing.“About all they’re good for,” John says, and then he notices the wet spots the damn things have left on his coat. He bundles up the fabric and sniffs at one damp patch, then makes a face. Then sighs and throws his coat over the side of the wagon-rail, and just silently gives thanks that the weather is at least decent.Despite the shitty roads, the dry, firm ground means that they get back to the garrison in good time. Still not early enough for John’s boss, who chews him out for intentionally missing the dinner hustle and then makes him unload all of the potatoes by himself instead of joining the rest of the cooks for staff meal; Jordan gets ordered, unfairly, to report to the walls for the night shift, even though he’s been working the whole day with John.“Come down after shift and tell you all about the other things I saw, poking around?” Jordan mutters on his way out. “You still going to be around?”John looks at the potatoes. “Yeah, I’ll be up.”Looking sympathetic, if also so young a double shift’s barely going to dent his cocky stride, Jordan hisses that he’ll bring something from the guardsmen’s unauthorized still and then heads off. He’s just in time, since John’s boss has come back to announce that since John was such a blind idiot as to accept obviously-spoiled goods, he can also get a head start on cutting out the good parts and setting those aside.“You know as well as I do that the commander’s picky about his gratin,” Lahey sneers. He stalks around the wagon, kicking over one of the empty bushel-baskets John’s setting out, and then reaches out to grab a potato. Then, as if it’s any kind of show of strength to crush a rotten tuber with one hand, he does that so the juices and bits drop onto John’s shoe. “Next run’s not for a week, so you’d better get something from these.”“I’ll work on it,” John says. He’d be angry, except he’s noticed that the flask Lahey keeps tucked into his trousers must have sprung a leak because there’s a wet patch spreading down the back of the man’s leg. Or Lahey’s so far into the bottle he doesn’t know when he’s pissing himself anymore.Either way, it’s enough to keep John nodding and smiling politely till the son of a bitch finally waltzes himself out to go scheme with the other cooks on how to skim off the good stuff from the guardsmen’s rations. John watches the man go with a long, disgusted sigh, kicking dirt over the mashed potato, and then finishes setting up his baskets.Then he goes over and closes the door so nobody else can get into the courtyard behind the kitchens. He rolls up his sleeves, makes sure his coat’s not anywhere it’s going to get more dirt on it, and takes up a long metal pole they use for stirring up the vats.“So, do I need to poke you out, or are you coming quietly?” John asks the potatoes.Nothing. He counts to five and there’s still nothing, and he’s just hefted the pole to shoulder height when there’s a high-pitched, muffled exclamation, followed rapidly by grunts and potatoes rattling off and a small upheaval going on near the end of the wagon. John winces at the splats, thinking too late that he should’ve moved the baskets closer so they’d catch some of those, and then a man and a young girl climb out of the potatoes.The girl is around Stiles’ age, and clutching a knife with an expression like she both knows how to use it and wants to and is afraid to, while the man’s…probably John’s age, give or take a few years. He’s covered in dirt from the potatoes, but what shows under it is the kind of weatherbeaten leanness that wipes out youth fast but holds old age at bay for a good long while. They’re obviously father and daughter.“Let us go and we won’t hurt you,” says the girl.The man hisses at her. It’s not made up of words, but there’s an undulation to the sound that makes John think it’s an understood signal between the two of them. She minds it, but doesn’t necessarily agree, says her expression. And most of the disagreement’s down to worry for her father, says the nervous little tuck of her head when he pushes her behind him. He doesn’t have anything in his hands but he’s got one or two things strapped to his leg, half-hidden in the folds of his baggy pants.“We just want to cross the pass,” he says quietly. “No trouble, not staying here.”“Why?” John says. He lowers the metal pole, but angles it so he can use it to block a blow or swing at anything they might throw at him. “I mean, what are you crossing it for?”The girl frowns, then tightens her grip on the knife. The man’s confused too, but warier, and John’s more than half-sure he’s not going to answer the question when his eyes suddenly flick around them.The courtyard walls are too high to scale easily, and built of thick stone. Back when the garrison was better-kept, they raised livestock within the walls rather than always going out to get them from the surrounding villages, and this was part of that area. So it’s not easy to get from here back out of the garrison and anybody with any sense would immediately see that.“Doesn’t suit us out here,” the man abruptly says, returning his gaze to John. His daughter sounds local, but he’s got a faint accent. Not outlands or capital—maybe one of the temples. “And we don’t have the money for the toll. Or for a bribe.”“Kind of sounds like you’re threatening to kill me to get out,” John notes. He’s a little surprised to see them start, but they harden up into defensive positions fast enough. He keeps a good grip on the pole but starts to back up, watching them watch him. Especially when he steps out of the way of the one doorway. “Well, I’m a cook, tolls are the guard’s job. Though you know it’s a hell of a time to be heading back in, right?”The girl had wanted to make right for the door, but he’s got the man’s curiosity. “What?” he says. “Why? What happened?”“Well, Ashe is prime minister now, and he’s got no interest in the provinces. Pulled out all the soldiers all along the roads, so between here and the capital, you’re either taking a bodyguard with you or taking your life in your hands,” John says. He takes another step back, then glances at the knife in the girl’s hands. “But I guess you look like you’re used to that.”Surprisingly enough, both the girl and the man look upset at the news. “What?” she says. “But—but he can’t do that. What—what about all the—but then who’s going to watch out for—what about—the temples at least—”“They’re pretty much watching their own lands and that’s it, since Ashe ordered all their tithes go to the capital instead,” John tells them. So they’re not just running from some village trouble—they thought they were running towards something. They don’t look like any of the noble lines, or the major priesthoods, and he might be in exile but he doesn’t think his knowledge there has gotten too dated. “Were you going to see somebody? Look, I’m not going to help you if I don’t like it, but if you want to tell me who, then maybe I can tell you whether they’re still—”“But this is all that’s guarding the pass?” the girl cries. She’s starting to get loud and her father takes her by the shoulders, though still with his eyes on John. The knife drops and she grabs at her father’s arm. “But then they could overrun it any time! There’s not enough people here to catch them all.”John…doesn’t think she could be talking about what he thinks she is. It’s too far of a stretch, given all the more normal explanations, like robbers and wild animals. No real nobility out here, at least no one recognized by the capital, but beyond the pass there are communities like the werewolves who effectively are the same thing, and it’s much more likely she’s talking about someone like that. “You mean revenants?” he says anyway.The man had been about to say something comforting to her, but at that the two of them snap around and stare at John, and what do you know, the three of them all were thinking about the same thing. Which, since even if she’s got the right accent, she’s no villager, means John’s thoughts about who and what they are just got simplified. “You with a temple?” he guesses. “Which one? The—”And she’s going to throw the damn knife at him. John cuts off with a half-bitten swear and hikes up the pole, just as the man winces and grabs for his daughter, and then…Lahey’s come back and rattling his key-ring. “Stilinski! Stilinski, I hear voices and if your goddamn little bastard of a son’s back, I want to—”There’s no time. There’s no place either, unless they dive back into the potatoes, and that’s not going to work, they knocked out so many potatoes they won’t have enough to pull over them again. The man makes an aborted jerk towards the wagon anyway, but he’s barely moved his feet when Lahey just barges in. “Stilinski, I…” Lahey stops mid-rant, blinking hard. The first one he sees is the girl, who obviously isn’t Stiles. He steps back, pulling out his flask, and takes a swig from it, and he’s so off-guard that he doesn’t notice nothing’s swishing around in it. “Huh. What the hell is this?”The man had smartly jerked the girl’s arm down so the knife is hidden behind them, seeing as it’s not just Lahey they’d have to deal with; more voices are coming into this part of the kitchen. But that’s not pure fear in the man’s eyes—there’s a grim determination John recognizes from the days he actually led men, and…John hates himself a little, but he doesn’t want to be party to a slaughter. Lahey might not weigh too much on his conscience, but the other cooks aren’t hostile so much as easily led.“Replacement dishwashers,” John says. He hears a small noise from the girl, but she mostly keeps it off her face, and the man just looks completely neutral. “Since my son left us short. They were beggars and were following us, and I figured we could use the bodies.”Lahey lets out that nasty, abrasive laugh of his, but he doesn’t look alarmed anymore. His eyes are shifting around in that way that means he’s calculating whether this is going to affect his skim, and if so, in which direction. “Thinking you can get out of the pig work, huh.”“Well, it’d leave me more time to go around and try and get better provisions out of people. And Thomas is worried about that on top of the commander’s taste buds,” John points out.“Isn’t going to get you Parrish to plot behind our backs with any more than you’ve already got him,” Lahey says, but he’s off-handed about it. He honestly doesn’t care who’s in charge so long as they don’t come peeking at his inventory too often, and Quartermaster Thomas has been doing that more as the food quality’s been going down. “I hope you don’t think you’re getting an extra ration out of this. You and your son got your allotments when they booted your high-and-mighty asses down here, and you’ll be damn lucky just to get his back. Picking up a pair of beggars isn’t that big of an accomplishment, city-boy.”Every time Lahey mentions Stiles, John would like to punch the bottle straight back into the man’s face. But he swallows that down and just shrugs. The man and girl, at least, are playing it completely wooden, so it’s only his temper he has to worry about. “It still means when I’m here, you don’t have to have Cornish help, and when I’m out, that frees him and Long up.”“True. True. And I appreciate you trying out thinking of the rest of us for once,” Lahey says. He folds his arms across his chest, then glances down at his flask. Rattles it, realizes it’s empty, and the mean look starts coming back into his face. “Well, I won’t report you but this isn’t sticking my neck out for you either. You can have your beggars till somebody notices, and then you’ll be on the carpet all by your lonesome.”“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” John says dryly.“Well, I’m expecting something in the morning, once Parrish has helped you to some of that liquor those guard bastards won’t give to me,” Lahey adds. He looks at John, takes a half-step around and then looks again, like that rheumy stare’s so much more effective over one shoulder, and then walks back into the kitchen.John waits a few seconds, then goes up to the door and peeks inside. Lahey’s down at the other end, talking to two of the cooks, but after a second they all move out of the kitchen. The man probably figures he’s got John blackmailed for at least a month of tipple from the guardsmen still; John’s going to have a hell of a time getting out of that, but it does put things off for a while.“All right, don’t stab me,” John says, turning around. “My rooms are a couple minutes away. You come over, get washed and changed, and get some rest. A trade caravan should come through any day and they should be willing enough to hire hunters, even excommunicated or whatever’s got you running.”The man and girl stare at him. He stares back for a couple seconds, and then taps the doorway with the pole.“Or try your own luck and get caught. Just make up your mind because I still need to peel and slice up all those damn potatoes,” John says, letting some of his irritation finally come through.“We’ll—” the girl starts and then glances at her father, who nods slightly “—try your rooms. Thank—thank you.”“Yeah, sure, not like they like me anyway,” John sighs. He glances into the kitchen again, then jerks his head. “Come on, then.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- At this hour, it’s relatively quiet in the garrison. People are attending to their chores after the evening meal and haven’t yet broken out for what passes for entertainment in this godforsaken dump, so John’s able to sneak the man and girl to his rooms with relative ease. He can’t let them into the bath-house, but he gets two buckets of hot water from the always-simmering vats in the laundry and leaves that with them, along with soap, bread and jerky, and some spare clothes.“I’ve just got boys’ clothes, but you’re not too far off my son’s height,” John says, handing a set to the girl.“Thank you,” she says quietly. Her eyes roam the room and then stop on the constellation models Stiles chipped into the plaster; John packed up what little Stiles left so the greedy asses who run the garrison couldn’t take it from him, but he’s just never gotten around to replastering over those, though when someone notices, they’ll dock it from his pay. “Is this…”“Yeah. Yeah, but he’s…traveling. I know the bed here’s not that roomy, but you can probably use my bed for the night,” John says, turning towards the man. And then sighs, thinking of all those damn potatoes. “I know that’s not any bigger, but I’m not going to need it.”The man nods and also thanks John. Then the two of them get down to the business of tending to themselves, without any further delay, or even a glance over as John heads out of the room. He’s probably not even going to have to let them out in the morning; if a caravan comes through, they’ll hire themselves out to it and be gone before he has to worry about somebody spotting them who he can’t bribe with contraband liquor. * The potatoes are a pile of hell.“I wish I could help, but I’ve got four hours to sleep before they’ve got me up again,” Jordan says, when he stops in to check on John and drop off the moonshine.“You’re on watch again?” John says. Then he grimaces. “Did Lahey come by?”Jordan nods, but then puts up his hand. “Yeah, and whatever he’s so smug about having over you, I don’t want to know. You know I’m a better liar when I honestly don’t know what’s going on.”“I’m not doing anything,” John says after a second.“I don’t want to know,” Jordan repeats, with a hopeful lift to his teasing that both makes John feel too damn old and too damn much of a failure. The kid keeps thinking John’s some kind of fighter. “Anyway, sounds like maybe we should hold off on the recon debrief, now that Lahey’s got Haigh on my back? I don’t think any of it was…well, any worse than the other things we’ve heard.”Since whether something is urgent and whether it gets prioritized around here are two completely unrelated things, John hears and agrees. “Get out of here and figure out why your sergeant hates you so much he’s listening to Lahey now,” he says. “But thanks for the—”“This isn’t me doing anything either,” Jordan says, pointing at the bottle of moonshine, and then he slips away.John tucks the bottle away between two bushels of cut-up potatoes, and then sits down on an upturned basket. He reaches for a potato, then sits back with a groan. Because he has three more bushels to go through, and because his back hurts and his hands cramped up hours ago and if he didn’t have half-dried starchy juices all over them, he’d know how many cuts the knife’s given him. If the damn things have rot in them, he hopes it’s at least the hallucinatory kind, he catches himself thinking.He looks up and the man’s standing there, cleaned up and dressed in a spare set of John’s clothes, with a paring knife in one hand and a towel in the other. “That roof over there goes straight to the side your west window opens onto, and the guards aren’t spaced closely enough to spot anyone going over it,” is what the man opens with, as he turns over another basket and then sits down on it. “Doesn’t help with getting out of the garrison, but would cover getting back, not that anyone in the kitchen dorms are sober enough to come looking.”“And did you stop in to look at them on your way over?” John says, sitting back and looking at the man.Who shrugs and peels a potato. He’s a lot better at it than John, using quick little flicks of his wrist to send each peeling onto the towel, which he’s laid in front of him. In no time at all, he’s got a neat heap of peelings, compared to the wild scatter around John.“My name is Chris, and my daughter’s name is Allison,” the man says, picking up another potato. “There was a John Stilinski who was named captain of the palace guard a good—”“Yeah, that’s me, so I know how long ago that was,” John says.He sounds cranky, and he regrets it for more reasons besides just not wanting to let a stranger know every sore spot he’s got, but Chris just gives him a brief glance and starts on a third potato. “Why do you know about revenants?” Chris asks. “That’s not part of palace duty. Unless things are worse up there than I thought.”“Well, you were headed that way till I mentioned Ashe pulling everybody back to the capital,” John says after a second.Chris slows up on the potatoes for a damn second. Though…it’s not so much because he’s eyeing John, as because he needs to pull over a half-filled bushel so he can start cutting up what he’s peeled into good and rotten pieces. “It’s been generations since anybody cared much about this mountain range, but I didn’t think they were just going to throw away everybody outside the capital. How are they planning to eat? They need the farmland.”“If I knew that, I don’t think I’d be out here trying to make these edible,” John says, nodding at the potatoes.“True,” Chris says. He’s still sizing John up—John didn’t miss the hinted menace in him pointing out that he can get into John’s rooms whenever he wants—but he’s starting to look sympathetic about it. He also doesn’t talk too much, or push his point when he can just sit there, working through three potatoes to John’s one, and put it on John to make the next move. Not a temple-trained man, although that accent’s still pulling at John’s mind. Former temple forces always wander off into whichever doctrine their old house was pushing about how to balance good and evil, or scour the earth of undesirables, or thwart fate or whatever they cared about.“So why do you know about revenants?” John asks.Chris doesn’t pause in peeling. “Because they’re working the trade roads around here.”John stops peeling and starts to take a breath, and Chris’ eyes flick up to him. “You know,” John starts, and then changes his mind at the last minute. He’s rusty, but he still doesn’t prefer threatening people straight off. “All right, who told you they were called revenants?”For a moment Chris looks at him, steady and unblinking. Two potatoes go through Chris’ hands and drop as chunks into the basket, and John catches himself twice from glancing down to at least see whether Chris is nicking himself, or whether it’s really going as smoothly as the regular, soft snick snick sounds are making out.“If we talk about this,” Chris finally says. “Talk about them, what’s going to happen?”John sucks his breath again, grimacing.“Anything?” Chris says, his skeptical tone taking its cues from John’s expression. “If they’re not doing anything on the other side of the pass, then…”“They, meaning the people who live around here,” John says slowly. “They’re lucky there’s even still a garrison up. And look, I believe in revenants, but I’m a cook, and that should tell you something.”Chris presses his lips together and stops with the potatoes. He doesn’t look happy about what he’s hearing, though if he’s not temple-affiliated…a true merc wouldn’t give a damn about the overall picture as long as someone was still around to pay him, and your average crusading newcomer wouldn’t be so self-possessed. Which doesn’t leave too many possibilities for someone John’s never run across before. Then again, John reminds himself, figuring out who people really are is not his job anymore, and neither is trying to protect them from themselves. Honestly, the only thing he should care about is making sure he’s still around when Stiles comes back, and once that happens, making sure he’s prepared to take Stiles and just walk out.Sure. That’s what he should care about. “Look, just tell me you weren’t going to make things worse,” John sighs, shaking the peelings off his current tuber.He puts the knife back to the potato and it slips on the slime of the just-peeled portion and slides right into the ball of his thumb. Cursing, John drops the potato. Then curses again and fishes it out of the basket for the good bits, and gives the basket contents a once-over for any blood. And then the basket gets taken away.“I’m not entirely sure how I could do that anyway, but I wasn’t planning on it,” Chris says, as he moves the basket. “Allison and I aren’t here to mix things up with the guard either.”“Yeah, well, they’re mixed-up as it is,” John mutters. He sticks his knife in the ground and then presses at the cut on his thumb, forcing blood out till he figures he’s either gotten out any potato slime or he’s got that so deep in his body he’d have to bleed all the way out to get rid of it. He digs out a scrap of cloth and ties up his thumb, and then reaches for the basket.Chris holds onto it. He looks puzzled as to why John’s even reaching for it, and while John still has his hand out, the man shoves the basket between his knees and then grabs a potato.“What are you doing?” John asks.“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Chris says. He gets halfway done with the potato and then is so puzzled by John that he stops and gives John a helpless little shrug, as if John’s the one who should be changing what he’s doing. “You should pull your knife in towards you, not away. That’s just basic peeling.”“Well, I said I was a cook. Didn’t say I was any good at it,” John mutters, resisting the urge to rub the embarrassment off his face. He shifts his elbows on his knees, then sighs and leans out for the basket.Chris shuffles it back between his legs. “I can do this faster than you.”“Sure,” John says. He looks carefully over Chris’ face, then glances at the potato expertly falling apart in Chris’ hands. “But you’re not supposed to be doing this.”“You told the head cook I was,” Chris says, tilting his head. Then he checks John. “That was who he was.”“Yeah. Yeah, and he doesn’t have the authority to give me a couple servants any more than I do. That’s quartermaster level at least,” John points out, even though he’s sure Chris already knew that. Seeing as Chris had nodded in the direction of Lahey’s rooms, even though those are not directly on the way between John’s rooms and here.Chris does that little shrug again. “So you should watch out for either of them,” he says, and then he twists around on his seat so that he doesn’t have to reach so far to get the remaining potatoes.He’s also putting his shoulder to John, and sure, it’s not the man’s back, but it’s enough of a statement. And John…finds it strangely amusing for some reason. Considering he’s been taking orders left and right from men he wouldn’t have trusted to empty his waste bucket, and wakes up every day thinking today’s the day he’s just going to punch someone, it’s not really how he’d figure he’d react to some penniless man he’s rescued for no reason but more trouble on his head commandeering his duties.Tired, John thinks. That’s what he is. He’s been up nearly a full day at this point, and he’s too old to be doing that, and somewhere in the world the one thing in his life he had to get right is running around trying to save them both.“I’m going to deal with this,” John says. He stays sitting for one more second, then shakes his head and gets to his feet.“You should wash it out with brine,” Chris says without looking up. “Or vinegar, if you—”“We have salt,” John mutters, rolling his eyes, because fine, he’s…going to just let the potatoes go, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely dead.Chris pauses. Doesn’t look up, but for a moment he looks like he might. Then he nods and rocks the basket between his knees, resettling what’s in there so he’s got more room. “Yeah, you do around here.”John looks sharply at him. Almost asks and then…hell with it, he’s tired but he still knows this conversation isn’t really going anywhere.He goes into the kitchen and tugs off the rag from his thumb, which restarts the bleeding. Swishes it through some saltwater, gritting his teeth against the sting, and then he hunts around for a clean cloth to wrap it in. Finding one takes…well, he doesn’t think it’s that long, but when he goes back out, Chris is done. In fact, Chris is busy toting the baskets of discards over to the waste barrel.“I didn’t miss anything, and you don’t have pigs in here you could feed this to,” Chris says to John.“If that’s supposed to be a question, or you’re just criticizing, or…look, could you just get back to the room?” John says. “Morning shift’s in less than an hour.”Chris looks over, while dumping a basket. Then he takes the empty basket and carries it over to one of the courtyard walls, the one he’d need to scale to take that path over the roofs he pointed out to John’s window, and at that point John grabs one of the two remaining baskets.When John straightens up with it, Chris has vanished. Now, if John really wanted to search the roofs, knowing what he knows, and also having a reasonable idea of how a man like Chris apparently is would move…which John doesn’t want to. Not really.John’s tired. He dumps the last of the peelings, tidies up a little, and then trudges back through the halls the normal way. When he gets into his room, dawn sun irritatingly bright as it leaks around his shutters—which are shut and locked—there’s a dark, Chris-shaped lump scrunched up against the far wall. He eyes what’s left of the bed, then his floor. Then Chris.He thinks he can fit. He does sit down on the edge of the bed first, just to give Chris warning, and when the other man doesn’t move, John shrugs and rolls into bed and is falling asleep before he even registers that he’s pressed up against a body on one side. * The potatoes aside, Chris and Allison both keep a low profile for the next few days. John isn’t sure that they’re staying in his rooms, but then, he’s not checking, and nobody is yelling at him for them.Anyway, they stay out of sight, waiting for a trade caravan, and he brings back what he can spare of his meals to feed them. Lahey does at least give him what used to be Stiles’ share, not that that’s much, and John manages to supplement that with leftovers and rejects from the guards’ mess. There are more rejects than usual, what with the officers complaining that they can tell their meals are made from poor-quality ingredients. The commander especially still thinks that he should rate the kind of cooking he used to get in the capital.“Fucking silver-spoon son of a bitch, then he should’ve brought his chef with him,” Lahey storms after a gratin comes back with orders that the cooks go on half-rations till they get it right. He throws a couple pans, kicks a cook, and then spins and points at John. “Stilinski! You’re the last one who was in the capital, you know what they eat there. You do it, and you better make it right or I’m sending your head up with it as a garnish.”John can’t say anything to that so he doesn’t say anything at all. The rest of the cooks, relieved that they aren’t on the spot—and obviously not going to lend a hand—file out with only a couple throwaway jeers, so eager are they to get away before they get pressed into it. And then John’s in the kitchen by himself with a counter full of rejected gratins.For a few seconds, he contemplates murder. Then he rolls his sleeves up and grabs the nearest pan and scoops out its contents onto a plate so that, if he doesn’t end up getting killed for assaulting the commander, he can take that away with him. Technically Lahey and all the cooks senior to him have first dibs on leftovers, but to hell with that.He has a couple bites while he’s washing the pan out to use and he really can’t see what the commander’s complaining about. “Tastes okay to me,” he mutters.Somebody clears their throat. John picks up a cleaver before he turns around, but it’s just Allison. “Sorry, I know I’m not supposed to be down here, but we overheard the guards calling about a caravan,” she says, gesturing awkwardly. “It just came in, just for the night.”John’s been in the damn kitchen all day, but she’s got no reason to lie and every reason to tell the truth. “Yeah, well, if you needed something to take along, you can have that,” he says, pointing to the discarded gratin.He puts the cleaver down and reaches for the pan again, but then he hears his name being called from the hallway. It’s Lahey, and John has to force himself to not reach for the cleaver again.“Go out the back,” he hisses to Allison, and then he steps into the hallway.Lahey’s somehow oiled himself with at least half a bottle of wine in the meantime, or at least that’s what his breath smells like, and the booze has given him the bright idea to make John stand there while he goes through all the things the commander didn’t like about the previous gratins, why the commander’s wrong about them, and why even though the commander has a precious princess tongue, John had better not do the same thing. He keeps John out there for nearly an hour.John points that out to him occasionally, and Lahey ignores him till the very end, when the man gives John a rotten snake of a smug smile and a contemptuous hand-wave. “Well, let’s not keep the princess waiting,” Lahey says. “He’s at the end of his rope, he keeps saying. Can’t accept this anymore, he says. Going to draw a line in the sand, and make us see the consequences of his actions. Wouldn’t want that, would we?”Again, John doesn’t answer. It does occur to John, as Lahey’s walking off and he’s turning back into the kitchen, that he’s unnaturally calm and this isn’t a good thing and he should fix it before it gets out of hand. He’s got things he needs to do here, for good reasons. He really should keep that all in mind.The gratin’s gone.John looks at the spot for a few seconds without realizing why it doesn’t look right to him, and then he remembers he’s not interested in enforcing the kitchen hierarchy. So he turns to the pan…but that’s gone too. And then he realizes that the kitchen actually smells pretty good, and that’s because something’s baking in the oven.He looks there, and finds the pan, filled with what appears to be some kind of potato dish. It doesn’t look like the gratins they’ve served up before, but it smells delicious and it’s not like John has any time to make another one. Besides, he reasons, Chris and Allison will be out with the caravan in the morning, and once they’re gone, John doesn’t have to worry about keeping his place in the garrison. And he can probably talk Jordan into hiding Stiles’ things for him.Anyway, John sends up the gratin once it’s done. The commander thinks it’s delicious.In fact, the commander comes down to personally meet the cook who finally got it right, and then informs Lahey in front of the whole kitchen staff that from now on, John was going to exclusively cook for the officers. And dresses Lahey down for wasting John on common guard mess, and half a dozen other things that’d be trouble if John didn’t already know that succeeding alone would blow fire up the man’s ass.Lahey’s a cruel, bitter drunk, but he’s the kind of drunk who’s clawed his way over the top of plenty of bodies, and he can bide his time when he wants to. To the commander’s face, he’s deferential, apologetic. Slapping John on the back and smiling and talking about how it’s going to be a new kitchen from now on, with John front and center. Sure.He even keeps it up once the commander’s gone, firing compliment after compliment at John, asking what John’s secret is, asking whether John can tell him what he’s been doing wrong for so many years. The barbs are starting to come through, but they’re still sheathed enough that the other cooks all sit down for the last meal of the night. They don’t seem that enthusiastic about echoing Lahey’s new conversational approach, but they still want to eat more than they want to leave.Once the meal’s over, that’s a different story. John has to stay behind since, Lahey says, as the new and exclusive officers’ cook, he’ll want to be shown around the good stuff he was never allowed to touch before. “I still saw where it all is,” John says, following Lahey down into the storage cellar. “This isn’t a big place.”“You arrogant little shit,” is how Lahey responds, spinning to aim a punch at John.He’s not exactly quick with it, or that accurate, and it doesn’t come anywhere near to connecting, but it’s still a punch, and dealing with punches is something John actually does know how to handle. To the point that, frankly, he doesn’t even think about it. He steps back and his knuckles are a little sore and Lahey’s on his ass on the ground, holding his jaw and moaning like a stunned cow.John has just hit his direct superior. His drunken, abusive superior, but still. This is the man who can put John outside the garrison walls—or have him brought up on false charges of stealing or something like that, which probably would get John executed or thrown in chains, depending on how attached the commander really is to that damn potato dish. And that’s all pretty damn serious, and John should take it seriously, and—hell, he should at least care what happens to himself. Things are bad but he’s never been the depressed type.“You son of bitch,” Lahey says in a wondering, almost lilting tone. “You hit me.”“Yep,” John says. The thing is, he thinks, he does care what happens to him. He’s not planning on dying any time soon. But on the other hand, he’s cared less and less about what happens to all the things and people around him, and that’s…that’s not a good thing either. Caring about people he doesn’t have to care about is the only thing standing between him and the soulless bastards who sent him out here.Lahey says some other things to him, but John admits he’s not listening. He hears the cadence of it and that alone is enough to tell him that Lahey’s back to his usual raving. He nods absently a few times, just out of habit, but he’s more preoccupied with looking around this moldy shithole under a bigger shithole and asking himself how the hell he let things slide so far, and whether he should just walk out the gates now and save them all the trouble, and……and he misses his goddamn kid. John actually isn’t mad at Stiles for leaving, not really—his son’s far better than this, and when Stiles saw something that was broken and John didn’t fix it, he did what John would hope he’d do and stepped up. John knows his son is more than good enough to survive out there on his own, and whatever Stiles is up to, it’s almost certainly better. No part of John wants Stiles dragged back to this. But…okay, maybe a small part of him is a selfish bastard and wishes he had company.Anyway, he’s thinking all of that and then out of nowhere, Lahey swings at him with an empty bottle that’d been rolling around on the floor between the vats. John assumes, anyway—he didn’t see where it came from, just sees it coming at his head.He ducks and dodges back, and Lahey overextends himself and rushes nearly up to a wine barrel that’s been opened up for scrubbing out. The man staggers, pulling up, and then lurches around and something catches him just under the knees. Lahey yelps and drops the bottle and does a strange twirl and somehow pitches himself head-first into the barrel.John starts forward as soon as he realizes where the man’s headed, but the wet crunch noise brings him up short. He stops and goes up on his toes instead, trying to peer into the barrel without getting any closer to Lahey’s ominously still legs, and that’s when he spots Chris.“What—why are—” John falls back, winces as he steps on bits of the shattered bottle, and then sees the long pole Chris has in one hand.Chris sees that he sees and drops it at the same time that John swerves out of his direct line of sight. “Wait, wait, I just saw him going after you,” Chris says, slipping out from between the vats. “I didn’t think he’d fall like that.”“Aren’t you supposed to be out of here with that caravan?” John snaps. His foot slips on some more glass and he steadies himself against one vat. Then he swears and looks back at Lahey.The man still isn’t moving. Chris doesn’t look like he’s about to attack John, so John pushes by him and goes up to the barrel and looks inside. Then he takes Lahey by the waist and pulls him up till John can see the top of his head. It…looks bad enough that John doesn’t really need to feel at Lahey’s throat for a pulse or breathing, but John checks anyway.“We should fill it up,” Chris says.John looks at him. Then sets Lahey’s body back over the rim of the barrel, and looks at Chris again.“If anyone was going to fall into a wine barrel and crack open his head, it’d be him,” Chris goes on, looking and sounding mildly confused as to why John doesn’t understand what he means. “Fill it up and let somebody else find him, and it’s all explained.”“I was the last person to see him, all the other cooks know that,” John says. Then grimaces. “Anyway, what the hell am I talking about, that’s not—”“So just get one of them back into the kitchen when you go up, and I’ll stay here and make noises and you can say he stayed downstairs to do something. Then you both leave,” Chris suggests.John looks at him again, and when Chris’ expression continues to…to not register that there is a corpse here, John can’t help an annoyed exhale. “Are you saying I should cover this up?”“Well, if you don’t, do you think they’ll go light on you?” Chris says. He is starting to look a little wary now, and John catches him shifting slightly so that he can better clear John if he’s got to make a break for the ladder. “And even if you haul me out too, they’ll still accuse you of letting me in.”“If I can haul you out. I’m pretty sure that’s not easy, kind of person who doesn’t laugh at the idea of revenants,” John says. He glances at Lahey again, then sighs and rakes one hand back through his hair. Maybe he’s just imagining things, but his head’s starting to tighten up the way it used to right after Stiles came clean about something, and right before the actual headache started. “Look—why are you even down here? The caravan—”“Yeah,” Chris says, and then he hesitates. He absently rubs his hand against his hip, leaving dark streaks from the black scum that covers the vats, and John realizes that the man must have been down here for a good while. “Yeah, we missed it. We…Allison came back and told me about the whole problem with the potatoes, and…you did help us. We don’t have anything to pay you with, but I thought I’d go check.”John raises his brows. “The potatoes came out all right,” he says. “You know, the ones your daughter made and left for me. Commander liked them.”“Good.” Chris pauses again, but this time he looks faintly embarrassed. “Old family recipe. Usually people like it.”“He’s from the west country, originally,” John notes. “Same?”A flicker of something that’s maybe respect, maybe irritation, goes through Chris’ eyes. He makes a noise that could be yes or no or anything in between, and then steps back to the barrel with a slightly forced briskness. “Listen, we know it was an accident, but nobody’s going to believe us, and if we don’t deal with it fast, we’re not going to have a choice in how people look at it. You’re the kind who hides people in your room, you’re not the kind who’d want them caught.”“Well, you weren’t supposed to be here anymore.” But John can already feel his temper sputtering out. He rubs at the side of his head again, then looks at Lahey.Does he like killing people, even when it’s justified? No. But honestly, is he going to take the fall over this? No.“How far up do you think we need to fill it?” John mutters, cutting off Chris in the middle of more persuading. “Can’t swipe that much wine without it coming up later, it’s not like we’ve got so much people don’t keep track of where it goes.”Chris is relieved, and then he’s thinking. “He had plenty from the sound of it, so I don’t think much. Maybe just enough so it’ll look like he was trying to scoop out some, and lost his balance.”“From the sound of it?” John says. When Chris looks over, he shrugs but goes and starts hunting around for something they can use to carry the wine. “You said you just saw him going after me.”“Yeah.” Chris walks off towards the corner, then comes back with a pitcher, which he hands to John, and a broom, which he uses to push the glass shards closer around the barrel so it’ll look like the bottle fell closer to it. “That’s what I saw.”John goes over to a tapped barrel of the cheap stuff the common guards get and starts to draw it into the pitcher. “Do you have to make me—fine. Just how back did you hear?”He doesn’t actually think Chris is going to answer, and Chris is silent all through rearranging the broken glass, and then, when that’s done, fiddling with Lahey’s corpse: he nudges at how it’s draped over the barrel and moves the arms and even reaches into the barrel to do something. By then John’s dumped in three pitchers and Lahey’s up to his ears in wine, and that seems like good enough.“Allison was worried,” Chris suddenly says, as John’s straightening up from pouring in the last pitcher. He’s hunched over the barrel too, so when he catches John, their heads are just short of each other. John looks at him and the expression on his face says he’d prefer to just keep his mouth shut, but he’s talking because he thinks John would prefer it. “You stuck your neck out for us, and I know we haven’t given you anything for it.”“I didn’t ask,” John says after a moment.Chris doesn’t smile, but his expression warms slightly. “Yeah, we noticed that too. Anyway, like you said, if they aren’t going to care about what’s going on here on the other side of the mountains, there’s no real rush for us to cross.”It’s on the tip of John’s tongue to remind him that staying put isn’t exactly a safe option either. Which is probably why Chris abruptly hustles John back into the kitchen, taking the pitcher as he does, and tells him to knock his heel against the trapdoor twice when he needs Chris to pretend to be Lahey. And John…Well, he goes with it. Finds a cook with the excuse that Lahey wants to go over tomorrow’s shifts and walks them back, and then they listen to the fumbling and coughing noises in the cellar and agree that Lahey probably drank himself into forgetting all about it, like usual. Then John walks the man back out, grunting whenever he’s asked about that stupid gratin. Of course, when he returns for his third damn trip to the kitchen, Chris is no longer in the cellar.John stands there for a few seconds. Then he shuts the trapdoor, grabs a hunk of bread and some cheese for his dinner, and heads out for the night. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When he gets back to his rooms, Chris and Allison are both there waiting for him, and Allison offers him gratin leftovers. “It’s really not bad, I don’t see why he sent it back,” she says. “Anyway, I figured if they were giving you that much of a hard time, they probably wouldn’t give you time to eat.”She smiles at him and it’s sincere, but behind the helpfulness is that strained, anxious stiffness of somebody who’s afraid of how she’ll be received, and who’s afraid because she’s had bad reactions in the past. It reminds John a lot of Stiles every time he tries to warn somebody, and that’s probably why he takes the leftovers even though the bread and cheese—which was outside of his allotted ration—has already filled him up.“That recipe of yours,” he says, eyeing both of them. “The commander said he wants it once a week now, and I’m supposed to make it.”“Oh! Oh, well, I can show you if we can just get a half-hour in the kitchen,” Allison says. “It’s not complicated, and once you get it in the oven, there’s really nothing to do but sit and wait…or I could sneak down there the night before and make it for you. It warms up just as tasty and—”“Allison,” Chris says quietly. He does a good job of hiding his sudden alarm, but the skin around his eyes and mouth still twitches.They glance at each other and then Allison excuses herself to go to bed, telling John to just let her know about the recipe. She’s barely in Stiles’ old room before Chris sighs and sits down on the bed he and John have been sharing.“I know the longer we’re here, the riskier it is for you,” Chris starts.“So why are you here?” John asks.Chris’ mouth stays open but nothing comes out. His hand fidgets where it’s lying on his knee, and then he sighs again, ducking his head so he can rub at the back of it. “Well, honestly, I think you could use the help.”It’s John’s turn to not know what to do with that. “I could ask you,” he finally starts, only to cut himself off with an annoyed grunt. He jiggles the plate of leftovers, thinking, and then remembers why he’s holding it in the first place. Takes a mouthful, because he suspects that Allison probably will notice if he doesn’t, and then puts the plate off to the side and starts pulling his boots off. “Well, but then I’d have to make up my mind what to ask first, and whether it’s really in my best interests to know, and…”For a couple minutes Chris watches him. Doesn’t move except to shift his elbows a little forward on his lap, so he’s leaning slightly towards John. “You don’t know how to cook.”“Are you really going to say that’s what’s keeping you here?” John snaps. He jerks halfway back up and nearly stumbles over his own foot, misjudging how easily it’ll come out of the unlaced boot. After catching himself against the wall, he yanks that boot the rest of the way off and pitches both under the bed. “A job?”“I need money,” Chris says, his shoulders moving in a small shrug.John rests one hand on his knee and looks at the other man.The side of Chris’ mouth twitches. It could be a nervous tic, but that doesn’t really match up with the level way he’s looking back. “And you’re down a man,” he adds.“Yeah.” Grimacing, John straightens back up. His back protests like a mudlogged cow and when he puts his hand to it, the muscles in his neck and shoulders start to pull on him. “Sure. Right. There’s an opening.”“I’m a decent cook,” Chris says. He glances at the door to the other room. “Taught her how to do it.”“Look, just—” John thinks he wants to ask one thing and then his exasperation boils over, just from the way the man just sits there, and something else comes out “—is this funny to you? Just tell me that, would you?”“I’m not,” Chris says, his hand coming out, his voice rising, a genuine look of dismay on his face. A slight noise in the other room stops him before he gets fully off the bed; he doesn’t look over, but he holds himself a few inches off the bed for the space of a breath. Then he sits back down. He’s kneading at the edge of the bed a little. “It’s a real offer. Allison and I, we’re not here to live off of charity.”John wasn’t actually looking to spook the man, he just…he’s been short-tempered lately. Well, that and he just covered up a dead body and he really doesn’t feel that terrible about it and suddenly, a small part of him wonders whether it’s better to have Stiles away just because his son doesn’t need to see John be a hypocrite.“Fine,” John sighs. He’s tired. He should get some sleep, and not just because he may be turning into a coldblooded son of a bitch, but because if he doesn’t sleep soon, he may just forgo the coldblooded part of that. After all, he’s still got to get the commander that damn gratin every day now. “Can you move over?”Chris looks surprised, but he scoots towards one end of the bed. Then he starts as John steps towards the bed, as if he didn’t realize that’s why John needed the room—John stops, his hands halfway through undoing his belt, and the man shrugs and pulls up his legs and moves towards the wall. Still kind of flustered—which is just a couple awkward shuffles, but with the precise way he moves otherwise, that stands out—but John stops himself from feeling too guilty about that when he remembers the corpse in the cellar.John hangs his belt over the foot of the bed and tugs at the waistband of his trousers, but the night’s on the chilly side and he doesn’t have a hearth in his room, so he keeps them on. He pulls loose the neck of his shirt while he’s getting under the blankets, then turns on his side. Then starts to push up, remembering there’s a lantern hanging over him, and then lies back down. One, he’s tired, and two, he doesn’t know that Chris and Allison—who has to go back through his room to get to the washroom down the hall—are turning in now, and three, he’s tired.He closes his eyes. Chris is squeezed up against the wall, but he’s still sitting up and John can just sense the warmth of the man’s feet up by John’s back. That and how the toes flex, rucking up the sheet some.“You know they’re spreading down the road towards this pass, right?” Chris suddenly says. “Revenants?”Halfway to sleep, John’s unpleasantly dragged back by that lingering habit of trying to get things done, even when there’s nothing worth doing. For a second he contemplates rolling over and kicking Chris out of bed. Then he sighs. “Yeah.”Chris is silent for a second. “You go out on those supply runs often?”“Why, did you want to crawl back in?” John mutters. “You know they go out empty, right?”“I assumed that’s why they were shipping you bad potatoes,” Chris says dryly. He still shifts around like he’s uneasy, though he stops when he starts talking again. “No, I was just…considering. Must make you the most likely to run into one. The guard doesn’t get sent out, so I hear.”“Yeah, that’s right.” Then John rolls over. “I haven’t actually seen one up close. I try to get in before night falls, so mostly I’ve seen where they’ve been, what they’ve done.”“That’s not something you should be regretting, not having a run-in,” Chris says, his voice dropping slightly, a shadow passing over his face. Then he sees something in John’s expression and he frowns, tilting his head. “Look, I’m not going to steal the wagon or anything. I was just thinking, since you’ve got the potato obligation now, you might not have a lot of time for all the other things you need to get done.”“And you need a job,” John says. He rolls back over, then lets his breath slowly out into his pillow. This is a bad idea. On the other hand, he knew that right when he heard them moving around under the potatoes, and he walked right next to them for hours and he literally has no one around to kid. He’s doing this. “Fine, just I’d appreciate it if you actually told me first, the next time you do something?”Chris makes a noncommittal noise. Which he may or may not follow up with something more meaningful, but he leaves such a long pause in between that John just refuses to slide out of sleep to figure out what it is.John’s an asshole, just in case the dead body wasn’t obvious enough. He’ll deal with it in the morning. * In the morning, they find Lahey.Actually, the quartermaster finds Lahey, because for some reason Thomas needs to check how much of the Falernian that hasn’t gone vinegary they have left, and then screams so loudly that he wakes half the cooks. The other half wake up when the quartermaster declares that since that drunk’s gone and potentially spoiled half their wine just by being dead and nearby and they just can’t afford that, there’s no way the guards can go without their alcoholic rations unless somebody wants mutiny and if it’s mutiny then he’ll have them all in front of the commander…they’re going to spend the day cleaning out the cellar and rotating all the barrels.Also, John gets a promotion.“Because nobody wants Lahey’s job,” John tells a far-too-enthused Jordan. “Why are you excited?”“Well, for one, now I know for sure when I spend the night perched over a latrine and emptying out my guts, it’s completely pure incompetence in the kitchen and not maliciousness,” Jordan says, still grinning like a loon. “Two, don’t tell me you haven’t been itching to whip these people into shape. Come on. I might have spent my whole life on the border, but I can peg a career officer when I see one.”“Look, you can either shut up and get me more moonshine from that still you’re not supposed to have, or you can help scrape off mold,” John says.Jordan chooses to disappear. John goes back down into the cellar and within the hour, the biggest of the cooks left decides to square up to him over an order to go over a spot the man hadn’t cleaned properly. Look, it’s a thankless and pointless job, because the real problem is that the cellar’s drainage hasn’t been maintained and until that’s cleared out, it’ll stay so damp downstairs that they can practically watch the mold grow back over lunch. But if you’re not going to walk off, you’d better do the damn job, has always been John’s philosophy. Trying to puff around like a fighting cock so somebody will say the shit job you did is fine doesn’t count as doing the job.Anyway, even though he’s sober, the man doesn’t know how to aim a punch any better than Lahey. John gives him a bloody—but unbroken—nose and a sore jaw, points out to the rest of them that they want to start something, fine, but then one of them will have to step into John’s shoes, and after that they quiet down.Meal service that day goes all right, John supposes. Lahey usually spent those in an incoherent rage, lashing out with a bottle or his foot, and John never could actually understand what the man was yelling. Or what the man was looking at, since he spent most of his time in one corner of the kitchen, about as far from the actual cooking as he could be and still be in the same room.So when John’s up, he just tells the men to do their jobs and then stands where he can see all of them with one glance. They’re still pretty subdued, but it doesn’t have that crackling tension of people plotting something, and the few times the line breaks down, it’s because somebody took their eye off the hearth and burnt something, or somebody’s trying to hide that they’re bleeding into the potato mash, or things like that. Which aren’t too far off from guards trying to sneak past morning inspection with hangovers and stained clothes, and that, John can handle just fine.Things are going well enough by the evening meal that he tells Chris to slip down to a backroom to show him how to put together the gratin for the commander. It’s a dogleg off the main kitchen and while it’s got a window onto the back courtyard, the window’s small with rusty shutters that squeal whenever the wind rattles them. So it’s risky, but on the other hand, the other cooks seem genuinely intent on doing their jobs, and anyway, the dogleg’s on the opposite side of all the other storage rooms, so there’s no reason for them to be poking into this part of the hallway.“It’s how you cut them,” Chris explains, holding up a potato and a knife. He angles the knife a couple ways over the potato, pursing his lips, and then makes a swift series of slices that turn it into a kind of accordion-looking thing thin slices held together just by a strip of skin. “Normally you’d make all the cuts parallel and it’d look prettier, but the key is getting the slices the same thickness so they’ll cook evenly.”“Can’t really do that with something as mangled as this,” John says. He flicks another potato, right at where they’d had to carve out the rotten pieces, and an amused look goes over Chris’ face. “Think I get what you mean. So like this?”Chris watches John try to cut up a potato the same way. The amusement fades out of the man’s eyes and he starts sucking his breath between his teeth, especially whenever John tugs the knife free of the potato, which is getting slippery with leaked juices and honestly feels as if it’s holding in the blade at times. His hands twitch up once like he’s going to grab at John’s wrists and John stops and Chris opens his mouth. Pauses, then looks at the basket of potatoes.“You know, I could probably cut these up while you grate the cheese,” Chris says. He looks like it’s physically painful for him to not say anything else.“I don’t think it looks that bad,” John says.Chris whistles his breath between his teeth again, this time less because he’s worried than because he clearly thinks John is a blind idiot. He lifts his hand, hesitates, and then silently puts his potato next to John’s.“The whole trick is getting the right thickness,” Chris says. “Too thin and they’ll burn, too thick and they don’t get that nice crispy top.”“So you’re saying I don’t know how to use a knife,” John says.Chris looks at him. Then at the potatoes.“If I didn’t pull you and your daughter out over Lahey, why the hell would I do it over a couple potatoes?” John mutters. And he means it, but he sounds irritated and that’s because he is irritated because he’s not a cook, never has been, and…fine, Chris has a good point, even if he’s suddenly beating around the bush about it. “All right, have the potatoes, I’ll take the cheese.”“Knife-handling when it comes to vegetables is nothing like any other kind of knife-handling,” Chris says. He takes the basket of potatoes and starts in on them, but he keeps giving John these quick glances, like he’s not sure that John picking up the grater and the cheese wedge is a great idea, either. “I’ve hunted with men who can dress a stag in twenty minutes but who can’t even remember to take the tops off of carrots.”He’s trying to soothe John’s pride, and if it weren’t for this damn job, John wouldn’t even have to care about knowing how to cook a potato, and…the annoyance flushes out of John, leaving him just shaking his head at himself. “Yeah. Yeah, so I’ve learned. My son said something like that whenever I tried to cut up some of his herbs…he was studying to be an herbalist, and sometimes I’d get home late and need something to slap on a bruise but I didn’t want to wake him. But he’d get so worked up about my ‘hack job,’ it wasn’t really worth…”Graters shouldn’t be that hard. You put one end of something against it, push, and move your hand up and down. But this grater has a hinge on it and the two halves flip this way and that, and John is trying to remember how to tell which is the grating surface when he senses movement.He looks up and Chris stops, hand halfway across the table. Then leans over a few more inches and carefully does something with his fingers and the grater makes a clicking sound and locks into position. “Your son’s gone back to the capital?” Chris asks.“Did it sound like that’s where he was?” John says. He stares at the grater, half-thinking he should remember this for next time, and then he sighs and puts it down and just starts grating. He’s not going to remember, he knows that, and he’ll just…well, he’s been promoted, maybe he can make another cook handle that for him. He’ll still do his share of the grating, it’s not an abuse of power so much as delegating it. “You heard Lahey.”“No, but I didn’t want to just guess from that. I’ve got a kid too, I know…” Chris bends down to the potatoes and whips through three of them, then glances up again. At first he’s looking at the curls of cheese coming out of the grater, but then his eyes drift up. “Is he in the guard?”“If he was, he’d be shut up in here and I’d at least know where he is,” John mutters. Then catches himself, and is in the middle of wondering whether he should be telling even that much to an almost-stranger when he hooks the back of his thumb on the grater hole. “Shit.”“Here.” Chris flips a clean rag at him and almost in the same movement, scoops back most of the cheese before the blood can hit it. Then the man comes around the table and takes the grater to wash it off and wipe it. He does that as quick as he does anything else, sets it back on the table, and then steps away.Doesn’t go back around the table. John’s thumb is still bleeding when he checks under the rag, so he ties that off and picks up the cheese again. Then sighs. “You going to just say maybe I should do something else till I’m just holding the pan for you?”“You’re supposed to be the head cook now, shouldn’t you be out there directing anyway?” Chris says. He does some odd, strained things with his expression and voice, and it takes John a few seconds to realize the man is trying to joke. Takes Chris just about as long to see it’s not coming off well—he winces and then retreats back around the table. “Look, I’ll finish this and I know we’re pushing it, and I don’t want to get caught either so—”“I’m a goddamn soldier. My father was a soldier, and his father, and the most a soldier needs to know how to make is boiled coffee and flapjacks and bacon,” John mutters. He jiggles the cheese in his hand. “Anybody who thinks I’m ever going to be a cook should end up head-down in a wine barrel.”Sensibly, Chris doesn’t say anything to that. He just goes back to the potatoes, and after a second, John starts grating cheese again. Watching his thumb a little more closely.“That’s good,” Chris says suddenly. When John looks up, he nods at the little heap by the grater. “That’s saltier, so you don’t want as much. More like three-two, instead of one-one.”John nods and switches to the second block of cheese. It’s also harder than the first one, so he’s still working on it when Chris runs out of potatoes. The other man looks around, finds the basket where John put the salt and spices, and starts pulling out things.“Stiles isn’t here,” John finds himself saying. Maybe it’s how Chris stops and sticks a finger into the dried herbs, sniffing at them and then sighing, and how it reminds John of how much of a stickler his son is about too-old ingredients. “He’s not in…he’s just not here. Terms of our exile, long as we’re not coming back over the pass or trying to get another official position, they don’t really care what we do.”Chris gives John a thoughtful look, though he semi-hides it in the bustle of mixing up stuff in a bowl. When John does get the cheese done, Chris adds that and then stirs it in with one hand, while with the other he reaches for the potatoes. “Is the pan greased already?”“No,” John says, checking. “No, but I got it.”“Well, I don’t have the hands,” Chris says dryly. His unflappability still seems like a warning flag to John, but he has to admit, he’s kind of seeing the social advantages of it. “So…you could join him?”John stops with his hand in the pan. He watches his fingers clench around the greasy rag, butter oozing up around his fingernails. On the other side of the table Chris makes a low, hissing noise. Regretful, John thinks, and he tilts his head and goes back to rubbing the rag around. It’s probably just the hangover from covering up Lahey’s death, but the last thing he wants in his mind right now is more regrets. “Yeah, but I stick around here because it’s one thing for him to run off, and it’s another for a former captain of the palace guard to be loose in the wilderness. And I guess I figure if things get so bad we’ve all got to go back over the pass, I want to make sure someone’s around to see he gets in. I’m all he has.”“It’s the same for Allison and me,” Chris says. He makes it sound like that might be all John gets, and he does spend the next few minutes showing John how to lay the potatoes in the pan to make sure they cook through right. But then he inhales a little sharply, making John look up—he’s looking down, poking the last slice into place. “You probably guessed already, but we’re from one of the hunting guilds.”“The old ones? No temple?” John says immediately.Too fast, he thinks, he should’ve slowed that down and not pushed right off the mark. But Chris just gives him a tight nod. “Yeah. Well, was. Guild’s just us now.”“What fam—” John starts to ask, only for them to both freeze as they hear John’s name being called from the main kitchen.It’s too close to the doorway, so John goes out and pulls the door after him—he makes sure not to yank it all the way shut, because with how thick it is, Chris won’t be able to hear what’s going on and he thinks the man will be better at improvising if he’s not in the dark. “Yeah?”“Stilinski,” says Quartermaster Thomas, perspiring and a little harried and twitchy, as usual. “We need to talk.”“I’m in the middle of the commander’s gratin,” John says.Thomas blinks hard, then groans as things connect for him. Normally that’d take care of it, since the bane of his life—and one of the few times John ever feels sympathetic towards him—is trying to stretch their limited resources for the commander’s stupid whims, but today Thomas is standing his ground. Standing it with a quiver in the hand he pokes at John, but he’s standing it.“I don’t know what you’re up to with the guards, Stilinski, but now is neither the time nor the place,” Thomas hisses. “Payroll is a week late and the commander’s having a hell of a time keeping things calm, and if you’re as smart as you seem, you’ll step up now that Lahey’s gone and keep everybody fed and quiet till we figure out where that wagon’s gotten to. All right?”“Should you be telling me that?” John says, blinking. Then he remembers he’s still just a cook, even if he’s now head cook. “Sir.”“Do you have to be—” Thomas steps back and glances around, looking a little bit like a hunted mouse. He wipes some sweat off his brow and then glares at John again. “Listen. Nobody misses Lahey, so nobody really cares how he ended up down there. But I’m trying to keep this place from falling apart and I thought you were a reasonable type, and—”John raises his brows. He’s not so stupid as to actually interrupt the man, but Thomas has never struck him as the sharpest knife in the…well, the kitchen, even if the man’s meticulous to a fault about keeping his accounts.“Oh, look, I don’t want to know. Lahey was the kind of drunk, he was going to stick around till somebody took him out back and shot him, but drunks, you never do know, do you?” Thomas says, with a nervous eye-roll. He wipes at his face again. “I just want things running smoothly, and that means no secret night trips to do who knows what, all right? At least have the decency to pretend you’re going out for more supplies, or something that’s deniable. Got that?”“I heard you, sir,” John says, in as noncommittal a tone as he can manage.“Good,” Thomas says. He takes a deep breath and resets his shoulders, and then looks up in a more friendly way at John. “Well, at least you’ve got that gratin going, that should keep the commander happy for one more night.”“If I can get back to it now, sir?” John says. He takes a step towards the door and then puts his hand on it, which casually blocks Thomas from following him. He doesn’t say anything about having to keep it a secret, or not exposing it to hallway air or the kind of excuse his son would come up with; he just stands there, passively uncooperative.It works. Thomas mutters something about just keep up his end of the bargain, and there might even be a bump in wine rations in it for John, and then wanders back through the kitchen. John hears the cooks sniggering at the man and goes in for a few minutes to make sure order is restored, and also ends up seeing that Thomas does, in fact, leave.When he gets back to the room, the gratin is fully assembled and Chris is no longer in the room. The shutters on the window don’t look as if they’ve been touched. John picks up the pan, then puts it down. Then picks it back up.“Thomas is an officer,” John says to nobody in particular, seeing as the room is empty. “Officers get noticed. It’s a small garrison, and I…fine, that’s enough, and I’ll say the same thing when I’m back tonight.”Nothing answers him when he walks out with the pan. * The gratin works just as well as it did last night, and at staff meal, a couple of the cooks cautiously toast to John’s health. He thanks them, but he’s not so dumb as to think they’ve been won over for good. He’s also not as much of a hoarder as Lahey—and why the man did that, John will never know now, since Lahey couldn’t taste anything but alcohol—which automatically doubles everybody’s portion size and makes them happy enough to not care he’s the first to leave. Or that he’s taking a tripled serving of food with him.But he doesn’t go straight back to his rooms. No, thanks to Thomas, he has to track Jordan down in the barracks and then drag him out to behind the stable. “What the hell are you doing?”“Doing?” Jordan says, looking blank.“Thomas just warned me off the guards because someone is sneaking into the woods at night,” John snaps. “So don’t give me that look.”To his credit, Jordan immediately deflates the innocent act. On the other hand, he decides to replace it with mulishness. “Well, it’s not like we’d have any idea what’s going on otherwise, and you’re the one who noticed that the reports are getting closer to the garrison. So maybe me and a couple other people who don’t want to stick our heads in the sand are doing the recon we’re trained to do.”“So maybe you should get better at it, if Thomas of all people’s caught on,” John says. Then he stops and rubs at the side of his face, because…honestly, that hadn’t been where he’d been planning to go. Jordan’s surprised too, and to the point that he has to open and close his mouth a few times before getting around to the grin. “Sure, okay, we can do that. You just got promoted, we all, from the bottoms of our stomachs, want that to last.”“And why does Thomas think I’m involved with this, exactly?” John snaps.“Oh, well…I’m not positive, I’ll have to look into it, but if I had to guess…because I told people our standard excuse was we’re foraging for salt because that’s something they’re shorting us on that we can’t make in a still,” Jordan says, looking a little embarrassed. And a little proud, and if he ever knew part of why John puts up with him is because of the ways he echoes Stiles, he’d abuse the hell out of that.John sighs and considers telling the man to stop before it gets up to the commander, and save them all some trouble. But realistically, the window for that’s passed, and that has nothing to do with whether or not he still wants a friendly relationship with Jordan. And anyway, he should have seen this coming, what with not being able to help asking about revenants whenever he got to go out of the fort, and telling Jordan everything he knows about them, and…Thomas is right. He is involved, and he’s just been pretending he hasn’t been. He’s not just waiting around for his son.“Hey…listen, we were—I wasn’t trying to get you into the shit,” Jordan adds. He gets his arm back and tugs at the hair at the back of his head, looking uncomfortable, but determined. “But with everything we’ve been finding out, we couldn’t just sit here. Look, aside from what’s going to happen to everybody outside, if we just keep our eyes closed, then when they get here we’re going to go down in flames for being unprepared. So I was just—”“Did you actually get any salt?” John asks. Because that is a problem. Way, way back, this area used to be rich in salt mines, but once they built the roads, cheaper salt from the coast flooded in and closed all the mines.Of course, that only works so long as the roads are open to trade, and since that’s dying out, salt’s in short supply too. And it’s been so long that almost nobody around here remembers the mines. It’s only outsiders like John who have learned the history, and when he’s tried to bring it up, they think it’s as much of a fantasy as revenants.“A little, but not a lot,” Jordan admits. “On the other hand, we’re getting some villagers to actually talk to us. But it’s hard going. They’re afraid.”“Well, yeah, if I had to choose between revenants and a garrison that insists on a tithe without doing anything—”“No, not that. Well, there’s that, but also there’s some other…there’s this rumor some of the revenants act like they’re smart, targeting certain people,” Jordan interrupts. He tells John slowly, clearly having his doubts, but just as clearly not able to just dismiss it out of hand. “I don’t know about that, but maybe some of the villages have been suffering so long they’ve started to get a little crazy. You know, try and act like these things can be bargained with.”John gets cold, hearing that. His old job hadn’t involved hiding as many bodies as people think when they hear it was in the palace, but it’d still had more to do about making compromises—and bad ones—than John had ever liked. And on top of that, knowing his history means John knows how dark things got the last time revenants were active. When people don’t think they have anyone to protect them, they can make some horrible decisions.“What kind of bargains?” John asks.“Leaving out something for them to eat. Animals. I think.” Jordan doesn’t sound very confident in that. “It’s why I was taking the risk to go out. Something like that, I want to know.”“They don’t eat,” John mutters after a moment. He starts to say he needs to check on something, but cuts that off when he remembers Stiles took all the books with him. His damn memory’s not as good as it used to be either, and…well, he just needs to make it work. “They’re dead. They’re not animals, when they want to take your life, it’s not that that will fill them up and they’ll stop.”“Yeah, you said that,” Jordan says, looking more and more worried. “So—”John presses his hand over his face and makes himself think. Then he takes it down and looks at Jordan. “How many of you are there?”“Not a lot. Most people still don’t want to—they just want to get out of here, they don’t care what’s going on,” Jordan says. “I think more of them will come around if we can just show them, but it’s just me and four, five others.”“Stay in,” John says, and then holds up his hand. “No, listen. Thomas knows something, so you need to cool it off till he isn’t suspicious. I’m head cook now so I can ask him for a bigger supply detail. We’ll still go out, but in the day and when we’re expected to. Or I’m not telling you anything anymore.”“Got it,” Jordan says immediately, no fussing, not even a hint of protest. In fact, he’s gone back to looking delighted. “Finally. I can’t believe you waited so long to handle Lahey.”John pauses. Then, very carefully, looking Jordan straight in the eye: “Lahey had an accident.”“Yep, yeah, and I don’t usually speak ill of the dead, but let’s just say the timing could be a lot worse, right?” Jordan says, grinning. “So when are we going out?”“I’ll tell you when it’s cleared. So sit tight.” A second after John steps back, he looks over his shoulder. Jordan’s still grinning. “Parrish?”“Sitting.” As he plops down onto the nearest stack of saddles. He slaps his hands on his knees and then folds his arms over his lap and keeps grinning. “Sat. Seated.”John is going to regret this. He already has the headache. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Oh, this is nice,” Allison says, unwrapping the food John’s brought her and Chris. She goes into the other room and then comes back with some kind of folding table they’ve made out of a side of a crate and a couple cut-down spear handles, as well as cutlery and napkins that John does not remember having.“They were going to throw them out,” Chris explains, seeing where John’s looking. “We didn’t want to keep asking you to steal things, so we’ve been a little creative, but we’re not taking anything people still want.”Allison smiles a little anxiously, shifting around the table to stand beside her father. “And we have the time on our hands to fix them up. I wanted to fix your things too, but Dad said I shouldn’t just touch them without—”“Fix my what?” John asks, momentarily distracted. He’d thought he’d kept things up pretty well. Sure, he’s been slowly losing both his morals and his mind, but he hasn’t let himself get slipshod.“Oh, well, your—I noticed your shirts had some burns and holes, and I could sew those up, and your shoes are almost worn out, they need to be resoled, and…anything I could help with, anyway,” Allison says, while Chris looks as if he wishes they’d just eat. “Dad told me about your promotion so I’m guessing you’ll be busier, and if you need anything, just let me know.”“Thanks,” John says, since unless he wants to be rude, he can’t really say anything else.She smiles at him, and then starts dividing up the food. Equal portions, even though John tells them he gets to eat at the staff meal. Chris mutters that he left early and Allison just says whatever isn’t eaten, she’ll wrap up for later.It’s…a nice meal. John does eat some, since talking with Jordan went on longer than he figured and the kitchen was empty—including leftovers—when he checked in afterward. Nobody talks much, although occasionally Allison tries to make polite conversation, asking how the gratin went, whether things around the garrison are calm. Whenever John asks something back, she deflects or Chris jumps in, but John does learn a few things about them.Chris’ wife and Allison’s mother is probably dead, and she’s been gone long enough that neither of them look like mentioning her stings, though Allison drops her voice slightly whenever she comes up. Allison knows where the armory is, and likely has been inside it, which means if John sweeps through Stiles’ old room now, he’d probably turn up some pilfered weapons. Allison seems to know as much as her father does about revenants, and doesn’t like being called a hunter, to the point that she talks over her father when he tries to change the subject to ask John not to do that.John apologizes and she says, with a darted look at her father’s stony face, that she’d prefer to be called a tracker. Then they talk about cooking. She’s been in the stores at some point, too, and wants John to know that Chris has some really good recipes for all the beets they’ve been stockpiling because nobody knows how to make them edible.“We’re hunters, she just…wasn’t raised into it, and she doesn’t like a lot of the traditions. I don’t—we’ve both fallen away from most of them, so she doesn’t think it’s the right name,” Chris explains later. Out of the blue, when he and John are getting into bed.Well, he’s already in bed, and John is perched at the edge and trying to shave using a mirror and a bowl of water balanced on his knees. “Okay,” John mutters, working his blade along his jaw.“We don’t just find things or people to kill them. It’s only if they’re causing too much damage, and there’s no way to reason with them,” Chris goes on.He sounds as if Allison isn’t the only one who’s been having struggles with the term ‘hunter’ and it’s probably the most revealing he’s been so far, and John still almost asks whether Chris could’ve picked a time when John wasn’t scraping a blade down his neck arteries. Then John sighs and swishes the soap off the razor. “So you’re going to tell me revenants actually can talk and we can ask them nicely to stop?” he says.“What? No, they’re one of the few things out there you can’t afford to leave alone, ever, no matter the circumstances,” Chris says, sounding outraged John would even suggest that.John looks over his shoulder at the other man and Chris subsides with a slightly embarrassed look, apparently remembering that John honestly has no idea who he is. He’s quiet as John finishes up shaving, but then holds out a towel when John reaches for that.“I’m not sure what you’ve heard about the old guilds, the ones who didn’t find a temple, but what I know, they don’t have a good name in the capital,” Chris says. Then he releases the towel.“Yeah, that’s true.” Halfway through wiping off his cheek, John realizes he missed a whole strip near his ear. He curses and drops the towel, and then scrapes some foam from where it’s floating in the bowl, dabs it on, and shaves it off. “Then again, from the point of view up there, it’s not really the guilds so much as being something that doesn’t run through the capital, so they can’t be controlled from there.”Chris scoops the towel up, folding it so the unused side is up, and then offers it to John again. “Well, nothing left of ours to control, anyway.”“You never got around to saying which one that was,” John says. He takes the towel but watches the way Chris’ face tightens and then smooths out. “Or if that’s part of why you’re running and hiding…look, as long as you’re not one of the Chastels.”“If I was a Chastel, you’d be days dead and this place would be a smoking ruin,” Chris says, offended again. Then he eases his back against the wall, pulling up one knee so he can rest his chin on it. He looks a lot less haggard than when he’d first arrived, with a spare handsomeness that must be hard to keep inconspicuous, but he still looks around John’s age. Doesn’t bend like it, John notes with no little envy. “That really is a legendary name at this point. The rest of us banded together and flushed out the ones the army didn’t catch—what they did was beyond the pale for all of us.”“Good to know.” John wipes his face off and then gets up to dump the bowl. “Well, if I ever have the chance to send back word, the record-keepers will be happy to put that one into the archives.”Chris shifts as if he means to rise, too, but he just moves to the edge of the bed. “If I…if you could, would you go back?” he asks. “Are you looking to?”Why would he be interested, is the first thing John thinks to say. But then he sees how rigid Chris is, as if this is more important than just curiosity, and he thinks back over their conversation, and…he’d said that about sending word back because that’s habit again, thinking about cleaning up things in the capital. Habits and habits and with Lahey breathing down his neck, he’s never really had the time or space or temper to really think about why he still has those. Or if he should.He’s just getting the time and space now, and it’s going to take a while. But he’s already sure about a few things. He knows that from how they just jump into his head when he stops for a second. “No, I’m not,” John says with a shrug. “I wanted to do my job and that’s what got me sent here. I don’t think getting called back would mean I’d get to do what I wanted to do in the first place. It’d just mean that they ran out of bodies back there—and the problem’s here, not in the capital. The one I still care about fixing, anyway.”John turns to the door and he’s got his hand on it when Chris clears his throat. “We’re Argents,” he says.“That name’s had its ups and downs,” John says after a moment.Chris is grimacing, his tone alone tells John. “Yeah.”After a second, John opens the door. He makes a quick trip down the hall to the toilet to empty out the bowl, then comes back. Chris has crawled to his side and has slid his legs under the blankets, but he’s still sitting up, waiting for John.“Don’t do anything to Thomas,” John suddenly remembers to tell him.“Your quartermaster?” Chris says, raising his brows. His eyes say he knows exactly why John is bringing that up.“He’s just nervous, he’s not deliberately trying to screw people like Lahey,” John mutters. He gets into bed and fluffs up his pillow, and then burrows in for some time where he doesn’t have to keep track of all the things he’s apparently supposed to be scheming about. “Besides, he goes, I’ll have the commander personally oversee—no, wait, he’s got Haigh, probably put him on it. Who’d be even worse.”“I’m not trying to make things hard for you,” Chris says. He gets up and climbs over John to blow out the lantern, and then climbs back in. Drops down before he goes on, so his voice ends up closer and quieter, coming off more sincerely. “I’d like to make them easier.”John sighs and presses his face into his pillow. “Just keep it quiet, that’s all I want right now.”Chris shifts under the sheets. He’s not pressing himself so tightly against the wall these days. Still respectful of John’s space, but not to the point that he’s contorting himself. “Quiet,” he says. “I can do that.” * Two weeks of successful potato gratin later, John goes to Thomas with a rind off a ham. “We’re short on meat and due for a run anyway,” he tells the quartermaster. “If you give me a couple guards, then if the village doesn’t have anything, we can hunt up some game.”Thomas is relieved because the payroll wagon finally made it through—though all it had was half as much pay as it should and a little wine for the officers, and none of the other supplies that are supposed to ship with it—and authorizes the trip without any more questions, and just one nag to get things the commander will want to eat. John nods and then heads off to give Jordan the good news, only to find him and Allison talking.“He came up to your room and he and Dad nearly killed each other and then he said he helped you on the kind of trips where we came in,” Allison explains, looking a little annoyed with Parrish. “So we assumed you’d told him about us. He acted like it.”Jordan smiles sheepishly at John. “Well, you usually do. Anyway, she wanted something for cleaning some of your blades, and she let me see them and that is a nice sword to let get rusty and why don’t I just send her back with that now?”“Yeah,” John says. He lets Allison get a step towards the door. “And put that back exactly where you found it.”Allison nods and then makes herself vanish. Jordan stops looking so ashamed and starts looking more defensive. “You kept your sword? Don’t they confiscate that when you lose your—”“They just take the ceremonial one. That’s the one I actually used, and why the hell were you breaking into my rooms?” John snaps. Then he shakes his head. “No, if you caught him off-guard, you had a key so why do you have a key to my rooms?”“Stiles,” Jordan says. He looks a little rattled by how angry John is, but still draws himself up. “Look, I didn’t know he was going to run off, or I would’ve told you, I swear, but—he left me a note. And basically, it said please watch out for my dad and here’s my key in case you need to hit him over the head and drag him out because he’s too honorable to go.”That…sounds like Stiles, and all of a sudden John’s anger is gone and in its place is a deep hollow. He thinks he’s used to not having his son underfoot, and he thinks he really believes—well, he does really believe Stiles is better off outside the garrison than in. But he thinks he’s gotten used to missing Stiles and then he realizes he’s not really that good.“Anyway, I wasn’t up there just for the hell of it. I saw Chris sneaking in your window and got worried—I knew you weren’t in there, but I didn’t know what the hell was going on, and speaking of that, why didn’t you tell me we were sneaking in hunters?” Jordan goes on, moving from apologetic to offended. “Honestly, am I not the most likely person in this entire garrison to be happy we’re getting expert help?”So Chris or Allison, or both, admitted to Jordan that they’re hunters, when it took John days to get that out of Chris. It’s annoying. But…telling Jordan that would get him automatically on their side, and he clearly thinks that this was all part of John’s plan because he thinks John is some kind of mastermind and John suddenly realizes that Chris and Allison have to have been spying on him and Jordan.“Yeah. Yeah, well, look, Haigh was on you and I had to deal with Lahey, so I didn’t have the time,” John says. He has more excuses ready, but Jordan’s face is already clearing up and the man obviously just wanted to know that John wasn’t going to leave him out of it forever. “But I still can’t ask Thomas to let them stay as…as…”“Your servants?” Jordan suggests. “You could at least use a valet, looking at that sword.”John glowers at him. And fine, makes a note to himself to check whether that hollow he made in the wall’s getting seepage from the roof, but he needs Jordan to be practical, damn it. “I am a cook. Even if it’s head cook, that’s not enough for servants. That’s barely enough to get Thomas to okay a supply run with more guards than just you—”“Oh. Oh, okay, I will leave the contraband hunters to you, and get right on organizing that,” Jordan says, lighting up.“Wait a second, wait,” John sighs, grabbing the man by the arm and hauling him back. He’s semi-forgotten how much leading soldiers can be like minding kids, although it’s all coming back now. “Yeah. So I want to know more about these revenant reports as much as you do. But—”“Potatoes, got it,” Jordan says.John stares at him till the man stops pulling against his grip and settles down for an actual listen. Then gives him a good shake, just for emphasis, before letting go. “First, it’s meat this time. Preferably something we can make bacon out of.”“Well, for that we also need salt,” Jordan says. Then he ducks his head and gives John an apologetic look. “Of course, you already knew that, being head cook of the kitchen and all…”Salt and meat being the two ingredients for salted meat—yeah, John knew that, kind of. Anyway, it’s just another distraction and John waves it off. “Whatever we need to get to fill up the spaces where the hams used to be,” he mutters. “The second, and more important point, is if anybody’s trying something with the revenants like what you were saying, we have to keep them from thinking we’re onto them. Or even that we’re not onto them, but we’re going out in bigger groups for other reasons. Because the last thing we need is to get attacked by revenants before anybody in here knows what to do about them.”That finally sobers Jordan up, and he takes the seconds he should be taking to think that over and absorb it before he finally nods. “How many are you taking with you?”“Well, for that exact reason, I don’t think I should have more than one more guard on top of you,” John says. “They’re used to seeing me and you, let’s not change that too fast. But we might be able to squeeze in more trips, so see if you can get people ready for rotations. Is Haigh going to make trouble over that?”Jordan makes a face. He wants to deny it, but thankfully, his professionalism’s been engaged now, so he’s not just going to make wild promises to John. “Let me get back to you on that. He’s been all over the place lately. One second he’s shaking us down for extra pints of moonshine, next he’s asking whether we want in on the officer’s cuts. Not sure what’s eating him, but something is. But he doesn’t know we’ve been in and out, I’ll swear to that.”“Well, keep it that way,” John says, and goes off to arrange his end at the kitchen. * “I think saying we almost killed each other is exaggerating it some,” Chris says.Allison makes a face at her father. “Well, with all the flailing around, I didn’t get a good look. Were you trying to throw him on the bed or out the window?”John opens his mouth, shuts it, and then opens it again, because he needs to do that in order to eat, and right now, the food’s about all that’s making sense to him. “That’s what you’re going to say?”The pair of them look at each other, and then Chris clears his throat and attempts to look less pride-pricked. “Look, I got sloppy,” he says. “I’ll admit that. But we knew you and Parrish were—”“Where the hell are you going when you’re not in here?” John asks, putting his spoon down. He thinks he sees a mulish expression start coming over Allison’s face, just like how Stiles looks when he thinks John’s going to stop him from doing the right thing just because rules, Dad, and can’t help an aggravated noise. “Listen. I know I said I didn’t want to know. And I know I haven’t been asking, and that’s on me, but if you’re crawling all over the place and spying on things and you’re going to use it to—”“We aren’t going to use it to get you in trouble, and anyway, if you did, what else could they do? You’re already all the way out here,” Allison says sharply.Her father hisses under her breath and nudges her under the table, or something like that, because she’s starting to shoot him a dirty look when John speaks. “Well, yeah, so what’s left is they could execute me.”Allison looks back right away, her eyes wide with disbelief. “What, but—you need a trial first, and we’d speak up if it wasn’t you.”“This is a border garrison, Allison,” Chris says, quietly but firmly. He catches John’s eye and shifts uncomfortably in place before dropping his gaze to his bowl. “Commanders have a lot more leeway to drop requirements like trials if they think it’s an emergency.”At least he realizes the stakes at hand, John thinks, and then something about how Chris is avoiding looking him in the face keeps John from fully relaxing. It’s just how methodical it is as if Chris is less ashamed and more…adjusting some plans. And John just got done straightening Jordan out and sometimes, John swears, his life is just stopping one stupid idea after another.“Anyway, the bigger concern is, since we’re so isolated that the commander’s got the power to do that, everybody’s always on edge here. People already feel as if they’ve been abandoned and nobody up in the capital gives a damn about what happens to them, and that’s a bad state of mind if you ever want to work with them later.” John tears off a fresh piece of bread from the loaf he brought and then offers it around as an excuse to get both of them to raise their chins and look him in the eye. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but if you had to sneak into here under a bunch of rotten potatoes, I’m not seeing how it could possibly be something you can do on your own. And if you need help, it’s a lot better to not scare it before you ask.”Allison’s still a little defiant, but that’s young pride for you, not used to swallowing down for the greater good. That said, it’s fading from her face a lot quicker than John would’ve guessed, given how old she is, and she does seem to be listening, even if she still looks like she wants to argue it a bit. On the other hand, Chris doesn’t look surprised in the least by what John’s saying, and while he’s old enough to know better, his calmness also keeps making John think he’s already figured all of this into his ideas.“We’re here for the revenants,” Allison says suddenly. Her eyes widen again and she glances at Chris, but he gives her a little tip of the head and she takes a deep breath and goes on. “We heard about them, and Dad said he’d told you…anyway, our family’s always known they were real, and when we came and saw it was true, they really were back—we know how important it is to stop them. We were going to go to the capital, but when you said it wouldn’t do any good, we decided we should stay where we do have a chance to make a difference.”“We were keeping an ear out to see how things were, but we aren’t going out to meddle on purpose,” Chris adds. Once he’s got his piece, he takes the remaining bread from John and sets it down on the table. He keeps his eyes on John for all of that. “Just trying to figure out who’s who. Didn’t want to make you more enemies, or lose you any friends.”“Thanks, appreciate it,” John mutters.They eat in silence for a little longer. It’s awkward. Once or twice Allison inhales like she’d like to say something, but she’s too nervous to do it, and it’s such a change from the friendliness John’s gotten used to that he starts to feel guilty about it. He does understand why they’re doing what they’re doing; the part that keeps him nervous is why they keep seeming to do it around him.“Keeping you under wraps in here isn’t going to work that much longer, but I just need some more time to build up enough credit to get you in publicly,” John finally says, wiping his mouth on a napkin. “Thomas is a lot easier to bring around than Lahey, but you have to catch him when he isn’t pulling his hair out.”Allison perks up dramatically. “Oh, are we going to be your servants for real?”She sounds excited enough that John can’t help giving her a strange look, seeing as even people without a hunter background don’t normally get so enthusiastic over that sort of thing. Sure, a job is a job, with all the usual potential benefits, but it’s no fun adventure.“What you were telling Lahey,” Chris breaks in, looking as if he’s thinking the same thing. “It would be an easy explanation. You’re short a cook, you found one, and—”“That’s a spare cook, not a servant, because head cooks in this size garrison don’t get their own household,” John points out. “And seeing as we’re getting in less and less food, it’s hard to say we need more cooks. I said that because that’s all I could think of right then, but I need to come up with something better.”“And we’ll be even more careful till you do,” Allison says, looking solemnly at him. She starts to get up and clear the plates, but pauses as she takes his. “We’re not here to ruin you. I can give you my word on that.”She’s off with the dishes before John can reply to her. He starts to reach out and then puts his arm on the table, realizing he’s too slow for that too. It still feels strange to have somebody looking after him; he and Stiles divided things up more or less equally, just varying it depending on who was likely to be home when a chore needed to get done.Well, except for the cooking. Stiles handled all of that. Wasn’t that fancy a cook himself, but he took to it better than John ever did or has. And admittedly was probably supplementing by stealing from the kitchen and John’s at the point where remembering that means when Chris clears his throat, it catches John in the middle of a nostalgic smile.He tries to wipe that off his face as the other man waits on him, realizing that’s not going to look right when he’s gazing after the man’s daughter. “Something else?”“You’re going out for supplies,” Chris says. He doesn’t look offended. If anything, he still looks as if he’s worried about John going off on him and Allison. “You mentioned it earlier.”“Oh. Yeah. I got permission to take Jordan and another guard who Jordan says is at least open to the idea of revenants. It sounds like the reports are getting closer so it’s a good opportunity to kill two birds with one stone,” John says. Since the dishes are all gone, he folds up the table and pushes that against the wall with the stools, and then gets the water pitcher to wash off his face and hands before he gets ready for bed. “Tricky part is, we’re going to be gone the whole day.”Chris nods. “The reports he’s heard, any of them talk about villagers trying to lure revenants?”John stops where he is. “What?”He’s loud. Allison’s washing the dishes in the next room—she’ll put out the waste-water for John to dump so she doesn’t have to risk running to the toilet—and her scrubbing slows down. Chris doesn’t exactly flinch, but he’s pretty deliberately slow as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed.“Look, the reason Allison and me were in that wagon,” he starts. He pushes the heels of his hands against his knees, then slouches to drop his elbows onto his lap. He’s uncomfortable remembering it, and the discomfort’s tinged with fear. Quiet fear, but fear nonetheless. “Not everybody out here minds the revenants the way you’d expect. The traders, sure, they don’t want it—but the people who never liked being ruled from the other side of the mountain anyway, and there’s still more of them around than you’d think.”“I think I’ve been out here longer than you think, saying that,” John says dryly, but he gestures for Chris to go on. “I heard you can’t control them just by tying animals out in the woods for them.”Chris grimaces. “No, you can’t, but that doesn’t stop idiots. Anyway, we were going around trying to find the root of it all—nobody’s even paying us, it’s just that we know what happens if you let things go. We know how bad it could get.”“And you found a village that didn’t like you doing that,” John guesses. “The one you were—well, no, they put you in the wagon, didn’t they?”“They’re on the main road, they’ve got more to lose if the traders stop, so no, they were helping us,” Chris says, confirming it. He rubs his elbows up and down his thighs, looking up at John. “It’s not like anybody here is that well-armed. One good show of force would cow them.”John raises his brows. “Except where are you going to get that show?”Chris lets out a little sigh and dips his shoulder and flips one hand, acknowledging it for the daydream it is. “Anyway, why I’m bringing it up…if you’re going out, take Allison with you. She can poke around where you can’t, and she also knows what’s a good or a bad vegetable.”“I thought you were going to suggest yourself,” John says after a second.“Yeah, well, if you’re out for a full day, who’s watching the kitchen? You’ve had your promotion for less than a month,” Chris says. He’s using a mild tone like they’re just discussing it, but the way he holds John’s stare isn’t remotely retiring. And neither is how he shrugs and raises one hand to run through his hair, even if he’s dropping his eyes then. “I’m not saying anything should be done, just saying I think somebody should be keeping an ear out. And if there’s a slip-up like with Parrish, I can handle it easier than Allison.”“I hope when you say ‘easier,’ you mean you can come up with excuses that don’t end in another body in a wine-barrel,” John says slowly.Chris looks startled. Then starts to smooth out his face, but he realizes John’s already noticed. “That your only condition?”“I’m not thrilled, but I can see the sense in it. Besides, I’m already talking about going behind the officers’ backs, so there’s no point in doing a half-assed job of it,” John says. Which is all true, and the only part that’s missing is that he also thinks if he says no, they’re going to do an end-run around him anyway. But he knows from his son that there’s really no point in calling that out beforehand; he’s not even going to feel that great about predicting it, with the mess he always ends up cleaning up afterward. “All right, but she’s coming out with us the way I want to do it. If I know about it, then I’m going to be the one directing things.”“Fair enough,” Chris says. “I’ll talk to her, and then just let us know how we’re doing it.”John nods and then, feeling a greasy film on his forearms, he puts the pitcher down and decides to make the trip to the washroom for a full shower. One of the few perks the garrison has was being built on top of a strong mountain spring, and whoever was its engineer, they did a proper job with the plumbing. The heating system’s broken down so the water is always cold, but it’s clean and plentiful, and anyway, sometimes what knotted-up muscles need is a good, long, chilly blast.Sometimes that’s what John’s mind needs too. In the middle of rinsing the suds out of his hair, he stops and leans one hand against the wall, and thinks that he’s basically leading the start of a mutiny in the garrison. Never mind Lahey, it’s going to end up beyond the kitchen at some point, and that’s just the best-case scenario for making sure all the people who’ve gone out of their way to help him don’t suffer for it.This wasn’t ever part of his career plans. On the other hand, he thinks, people feeding revenants. And he knows the commander well enough, he knows exactly how much help he’ll get from that corner.In all honesty, he thinks as he finishes up his shower, what he’s most worried about isn’t getting executed. It’s how he’s going to explain all of this to Stiles.When John gets back to his rooms, Chris isn’t there, but he can hear the man talking with Allison in the other room. And a few minutes later, Chris steps back in, only to pull up short with his hand going back to the door.“Can you get this damn thing open?” John asks, struggling with a tin of burn salve. “My hands are too wet—”And he loses it as he turns towards Chris, the tin just squirting through his hands. Chris still looks startled but he snags it out of the air like a cat swatting down a fly. He turns it absently in his hand, looking at John. Then shakes himself, gives it a wipe on his shirt and easily pops it open.“Thanks.” John leans over and gets a dollop, and then smears it over the raw pink stripe running across his waist. He’d leaned against a hot griddle without thinking, and while it’s not a bad enough burn to bandage over, it is annoyingly positioned where his waistband keeps rubbing up over it.Chris nods without saying anything. He stands there for another second, looking at the burn. Then he puts the tin down on the windowsill where John can get at it and moves over. At first John thinks the man’s going to bed, but then Chris drops to his knees and reaches under the bed, and gets out a fresh set of clothes for John.“So you know where everything is now?” John can’t help asking.The back of Chris’ neck goes a little pink. John can see his clothes being fluffed, and then Chris swivels around without getting off his knees, raising yet another jealous twinge at how ageless the man’s joints seem to be. “It’s not exactly a big place, and we are actually in here most of the time,” he says, looking up at John. Somehow he’s keeping the blush out of his face. “We tried.”“Yeah, look, I get you’re human and all. Just…if you’re going to fix things, stick to the clothes,” John sighs.“I talked to Allison about your sword,” Chris says, wincing. He glances at John, then gets up and sits on the bed. He still has John’s clothes, and holds them out one garment at a time so John can dress. “I’m sorry about that. She meant well, but she should know on sight—that kind of thing. I taught her—I thought I taught her better.”John drops his towel in the laundry bag and then pulls on his clothes. It gives him a moment to collect his thoughts, so when he finally looks at Chris again, he genuinely isn’t upset. “I’m not supposed to still have that. Jordan’s a friend, but…anyway, just keep it to him.”Chris nods. For a second John thinks that contemplative look goes over his face, but he’s also rolling out of the way as John gets on the bed, so maybe it’s just the way the light moves over him. Anyway, he doesn’t say anything else before John blows out the lantern. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When they go out on a supply run, the wagon doesn’t have much in it besides empty baskets and crates. And since no matter how trustworthy Jordan thinks his fellow guardsmen are, John wants to keep the number of people who know about Chris and Allison down, they have to hide Allison in such a way that they don’t have to let the other guard in on it. So figuring out how to do it is tricky.John ends up putting what he claims is a barrel of salt on the wagon, just in case they get so much meat they have to start salting it right away. He’s betting that they won’t, since the game’s been getting sparser and sparser in the region, and salt’s too precious for the guard to think of randomly playing around with it. Or at least that they’ll be able to let Allison out at the village before they pick up meat or more salt.He’s right, but that doesn’t mean it’s not nerve-wracking. Jordan at least does a good job of keeping his fellow guard moving off the wagon, with the two of them circling into the woods on either side of the road for any unusual signs, and later when they get to the village, going around and trying to chat up people. Still, when John gets the lid off and pulls Allison out, he’s not ashamed to let out a huge sigh of relief.“You’re not really putting salt in here, are you?” she asks once she’s dusted herself off. “It’s leaky, I can see daylight through the staves. All the salt would wash out.”“Well, I guess that’s why we don’t have any in there to begin with,” John mutters. He glances around the corner, where the headman’s talking to some underlings, then points the headman out when they aren’t looking his and Allison’s way. “He says he’s got cabbage and a little corn, and we’re arguing over pork.”Allison frowns. “It’s a little late for cabbage now, are you sure it hasn’t all gone to flow—never mind, I’ll check it out. When do I need to be back?”John glances at the sky. “To be on the safe side, two hours,” he says, indicating the angle where the sun should be then. “This isn’t our only stop.”She doesn’t think that’s enough time, that’s clear, but she just sighs and slips off, hugging the building shadows. The headman’s coming back over and John braces himself to argue some more about prices and starving villagers versus starving garrison. They’ll go back and forth about who has it worse and agree to something just so that the headman doesn’t have to deal with the commander face-to-face, and John will feel slightly less guilty about strong-arming villagers when he knows they have valid complaints.It goes relatively smoothly, for all that John’s got more people to worry about this time. Jordan minds his friend and Allison gets back when she’s supposed to, and then they move onto the next village and that’s when it all goes wrong.Not because of the villagers, who according to Jordan are scared to death of having a run-in with the monsters they’ve been hearing about, but because Jordan’s sergeant randomly rides into town to join them.“I have no idea,” is all Jordan manages to say, before Haigh dismounts and comes over to them, wearing a suspiciously broad smile. Then he has to snap to attention. “Sir! Orders?”“No, you’re still on kitchen detail with Stilinski here,” Haigh says dismissively, just looking at John. “Just go back to whatever trash work he had you doing.”“Something from the commander, sir?” John asks. “If it’s the potatoes, I left a batch for the kitchen to warm up for him. Won’t be quite as good as fresh, but I ran it by the quartermaster and he said that that’d be fine.”Haigh shakes his head and keeps on walking towards the one tavern in the place. He’s clearly expecting John to follow him, even though John hasn’t closed negotiations with the headman. When John looks over, Jordan shrugs helplessly, while his fellow guard nervously chews his lip.“Carry out what’s there, and if any of it doesn’t look good to you, don’t put it on the wagon,” John says to Jordan. He raises his hand over the headman’s protests. “I’ll be right back out to talk over that, so just put it to the side till I can get to it. Oh, and Jordan—the salt.”“Yeah?” Jordan says, going alert. “You want me to roll it over and scoop myself, make sure we’re not shorted?”“That…that sounds fine,” John says. In a hurry, because Haigh’s stopped in the doorway and is looking impatiently back at him. “Wait for me, don’t make any calls.”The tavern’s emptied out, and when John ducks inside, Haigh is banging his fist on a table and hollering for somebody to bring him a mug. He keeps at it till a maid shows up, curtsies in acknowledgement, and then runs right back out. Then he turns around.“Sorry, if I’d heard you, would’ve ordered for you too,” Haigh says.“I’m all right,” John says warily. “So what can I do for you?”Haigh grins. “Good, this isn’t going to be messy. First off, you can keep from even trying to pass off the horseshit Lahey was selling as any good. Second, you can wipe that look off your face like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I know all you cooks are in on it.”John shuts his mouth, and then rearranges his face to look as neutral as possible while he retroactively erases any remaining guilt he feels over Lahey’s demise. “There a third?”“Yeah. Stop holding back and start distributing again, and I won’t tell the commander that you’re keeping a whore in your room,” Haigh says. He shoves his face into John’s face, chin and bad breath first. Then laughs and turns around and drops onto the nearest stool. “Young one, too, I never would’ve pegged somebody with the size stick up your ass for that, but if you can get it, why not?”It takes several seconds just for John to wrap his head around what Haigh even means. In hindsight—disgusting as the man is, John can see how things would add up that way, without too much of a stretch. But it’s just—not—what John does. Who he is. Even with what he’s doing now.“Oh, come on, Stilinski. Everybody knows your kid was keeping house for you, and then he ran off, but now you’re showing up with your shirts mended and somebody’s hanging your laundry out when I know you’re cooking up the good commander’s potatoes,” Haigh says conversationally.The barmaid comes back with a brimming mug of beer and a wooden board containing some bread and a crock of butter. She starts upon seeing John, apologizing and saying she’ll be right back with more, and then flees before John can decline.“He’s not a whore,” John says. He sits down across from Haigh, pretending he doesn’t notice the other man’s suddenly gap-mouthed expression. “Not sure about your eyesight there, but he’s definitely not young either. He’s just some beggar who wouldn’t stop following me on my last run, and he does chores for me for scraps. If he offends you that much, well, I’ll just go back and throw him out again.”Haigh stares at him for nearly a minute. Then snorts and picks up his mug. Downs a good quarter of the beer, slopping it down his chin and onto the table, and then bangs the mug down and reaches for the bread. The man doesn’t bother with the butter, just greedily crams it into his mouth as fast as he can.“Nice try,” he mumbles through the bread. “But when I started getting suspicious, I figured keeping an eye on Parrish would give me a clue, and yep, I saw her with him. You know, if you didn’t waste your goods on a cocky young shit like him and paid attention to his betters, maybe we wouldn’t even have had to have this talk. You know?”John presses his lips together and looks at the wooden serving board. Then at the mug. Then at the board again, judging how thick and sturdy it is. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”“Well, good. Then you’re not going to make any trouble,” Haigh says. He stuffs the last of the bread into his mouth, then starts to get up with bits still poking out of his lips. He takes his mug with him and he’s got it half-raised to his mouth when his eyes suddenly widen.At the same time, John hears a woman’s scream rise from the back of the building, where the maid had gone. John grabs the board and spins around—Haigh’s stumbling back, banging the table forward as he goes so it hits John and almost pitches him into the next table over. The man’s making garbled, gibbering, fearful noises and between that distraction and nearly falling, John almost misses the dark figure looming up in the corner of the room.It’s a revenant. Manlike except for its ash-gray color and huge size, so tall it’s doubled over under the rafters, though that doesn’t seem to hamper the swing of its powerful-looking arms. No face, and even though John was expecting that, it’s a different thing to see what that actually means in the flesh. It’s so unnerving that for a moment he’s frozen.Then the revenant moves and John snaps out of it. He hurls the board at the revenant’s head and then dives for the side of the room. The board’s not salted and he knows it won’t kill it, but he’s hoping the blow will stun or distract the revenant for long enough that he can run past it into the kitchen, where he’ll be able to find salt or fire.He makes it, but barely—his coat’s torn half-off him and he feels a glancing icy touch down his back. Then he’s in the kitchen, and looking at Allison. She’s got the terrified maid and another woman behind her in a corner, hissing at them; she looks up at John, then flings her arm out to point at the hearth.John twists around so he’ll be facing the revenant if it comes in, then grabs a poker from the wall and a rag from the counter. The revenant is coming after him, and as its shoulders barge through the doorway, he yanks the rag into a knot around the end of the poker. Then shoves that into the fire to catch, and just as the revenant wrenches itself through the doorway, he heaves up the poker and thrusts it straight into the thing’s head.It…it just seems to fold up, like a fallen shirt. It’s so fast that the rag burns through and the pieces slide down the poker, so John has to drop it before he gets scorched, and by the time the poker hits the floor, the thing is a headless lump right next to it.“Oh. Oh, good, that was—that was perfect,” Allison gasps. She tells the women to just wait and then comes over to look at the…the corpse. “Good, but we need to build a pyre and burn it up, just to be safe—”“I thought they don’t come out during the day,” John hisses. “What is it doing here?”“It’s the new moon, they’re strongest now,” Allison tells him. Then she looks from him to the women. “Listen, I’ll—I was talking to them anyway, I’ll get them started on the pyre, but I think you should go get Jordan and what’s his name, and when we get back Dad and I can tell you more. But we need to clean this up.”“Clean—” John suddenly remembers Haigh “—shit. I mean yes, stay back here, do not come near me unless—tell you what, I’ll send Jordan to get you. But don’t come otherwise, got it?”Now it’s Allison’s turn to look strangely at him. But she doesn’t press now, just nods shortly and goes back to the women. John grabs up the poker again and edges around the dead revenant as quick as he can, then runs back into the other room.“I think he’s dead!” says the headman.John slows down. The headman’s kneeling by something on the floor, but John can’t see what it is because of the tables in the way. He’s still getting around them when Jordan blows into the room from the village square, gasping for breath, and when Jordan sees what it is, his eyes widen and he takes a step back. Then straightens up, one hand to the side of his head.“Damn,” he says. He tilts his head. “What’s in his mouth?”“Bread?” the headman says doubtfully.“Did he choke?” Jordan says, and then he looks up at John.Who shrugs. “I was in the kitchen,” John says, completely truthfully.Jordan scratches the side of his head again. “Well, I don’t think we can do anything for him now,” he says, as John finally gets around and sees the headman shaking what seems like an endless amount of half-chewed bread out of Haigh’s mouth. “I guess we…actually, do we have to take him back with us? Won’t that spoil all the food?”Haigh’s dead. Pop-eyed, face brutally flushed and still twisted up in terror, and limp as a ragdoll when the headman finally drops him. “Well, we’re not keeping him,” the headman snaps. “For all we know, that’s what brought that thing here! Maybe you all are what they’re after.”“And I just killed it?” John says irritably. The headman looks up, surprised, and John sighs and points towards the kitchen with the poker. “Go look for yourself. And then come back, and let’s discuss the food and this and also, how to protect yourselves, all right?”The headman blinks a few times, then gets up and does as John says. His fit of temper aside, he seems like he might be reasonable. John hopes, anyway. If they can keep the village from rising up against them out of sheer panic, he’ll consider it a good day.“Wow,” Jordan says, looking down at Haigh. “Well, that’s…not how I thought he’d go. Bread. Huh. So what were you two talking about?”“Shit,” John sighs. Never mind, there is no way this is going to be a good day. * “We have to burn it here, and as soon as possible,” Allison explains patiently. Hiding her from the other guard is more of a hassle than a help at this point, so John has her working with Jordan and his friend as he wraps up with the headman. “I know you want proof to show the others, but the thing is, they’re going to keep up soaking the life out of things. They’re not moving around anymore, but you leave them lying around and you’ll kill anything growing in that spot. And any living thing that touches it could get hurt.”“Okay, but can’t we even take a bone? One of those nails? Something?” Jordan asks. “Just something to prove we aren’t making this all up.”“I can’t take you back to the garrison with me without the commander’s permission,” John tells the headman. “I’m sorry, I would if I could, but if I show up with you, he’ll throw you out. No, worse than that, he’ll probably confiscate your belongings and then throw you out, and you’ll be worse off than if you stayed here and fought.”Allison sighs. “They all drain life, so no. The only way—we could cover a piece in salt. But I don’t think we have enough. You really have to pack it thick to make sure it’ll be powerless.”Jordan and the guard look at each other. “Let’s…just get back to you on that,” Jordan says. “Just, till we do, can you hold back a hand or something? Go ahead and burn the rest, I’ll throw it on myself, but just give me a chance, all right?”The headman is being surprisingly reasonable about everything, though from the way he settles into his disgusted look, it’s not because he understands so much as because he’s gotten used to not expecting better. “Fight, right. We’re villagers. And on top of not doing anything, you people are keeping half the salt that comes through the passes for yourself, so where are we supposed to get enough to draw a fence around us?”“If we had the salt, I’d give you some, but we honestly don’t. I’ve been in the storage rooms and I’m not lying to you,” John says.“Well, you were telling the truth about that thing,” the headman says after a moment. He looks amused at John’s surprise. “And word spreads, you’ve been asking about them for months, and that’s longer than I’ve been putting any stock in the rumors…still, I have to take care of my people.”John presses his hand over his face. “I know. I know…look, they don’t come in the daytime most of the month. It’s just the…”He looks over at Allison, who’s wandered over now that she doesn’t have to deal with the two guards. “The new moon and the two days afterward,” she supplies. “So it’s just the rest of today.”“It’s getting late anyway,” John says. He glances over at the bonfire the villagers are building up, then looks at the headman again. “We’ll stay the night. Help you keep watch, and we’ll do what we can to train you for now. I’m sorry, but that’s all I can do right now.”“That’s pretty pathetic,” the headman says, but he sounds resigned. “All right, fine. One night and then we’ll let you run back to your fort.”“Thanks,” John says. He means it sincerely. Still, he doesn’t feel like that much less of a parasite, watching the headman walk off to brief the villagers. * No more revenants show up, but they’re too busy all that night for John to get any time alone with Jordan or Allison, and the long trudge home the next morning is spent getting the four of them to nail down the details of their explanation for their delay and a dead sergeant. Part of why it takes so long is that Jordan actually did talk the villagers into giving up enough salt to pack two of the revenant’s fingers, so he wants to tell the commander about revenants right off the bat.“We have the evidence!” he insists. “He can’t ignore actual body parts!”Interestingly, Allison is very vocally opposed. “And when he asks you how you know, what are you going to do, try them out on him? As if that’s not going to get us all thrown in jail.”“You’re not coming up anyway,” John reminds her. “As soon as we get close enough, you’re getting out of sight, and then going back to your father.” Allison’s eyes narrow a little, but then she gives John a smile and climbs back in with the rest of the provisions. Not that there’s much, seeing as the headman’s taken the stance that if they have to fight off revenants without the garrison’s help, he needs more food reserves, but there’s enough that John can claim with a straight face that they’re not coming back empty-handed.“Still think we could’ve buried Haigh back there,” Jordan says, climbing onto the driver’s seat with John. “I know what you’re going to say, then we wouldn’t be able to prove anything we tell them. But think about it for a second. Does anybody even know Haigh came out after us?”“He’s been gone overnight now, I think they would’ve realized nobody was kicking people out of bed,” says the other guard.“Yeah, but so he went out. So what’s to say he went out in the same direction as us? He could’ve gone a bunch of other ways, and we just told the only other people who’ve seen him to not come anywhere near the garrison,” Jordan says, turning and making a face at the other man. He drums his fingers against the wagon and then snaps them. “So he ran off, and there aren’t any signs of him. And in the meantime, we’ve run into a real revenant and we brought back proof—”John sighs. “You brought back two fingers. Correct me if I’m wrong, Allison, but that’s not enough to do anything to anybody fast enough that it’ll seem dangerous.”“That’s what I said, and now you can’t use that salt for cooking, and that is a lot of salt,” Allison says.“Well, so don’t tell me you’re just going to march up and confess that Haigh choked to death while you were busy killing a thing that’s not even supposed to exist,” Jordan scoffs. He glances at John, then drops his face into his hand. “Listen, I know you have standards, and it’s good to—I’m not saying we should turn into—”“It killed Haigh, that’s what I’m going to say,” John snaps, just fed up with all of the cross-talk. Try all he can to lay down the groundwork, go over the details, carefully build it out so that nobody catches them in the contradictions that always lead to things unraveling, and they just keep insisting on tangents. Sometimes he wants to tell people he avoids lying not because he’s really that big on morals, but because it’s just a lot easier to not fuck up when you stick to the truth.It’s quiet in the wagon for a good few minutes. John takes a few deep breaths, maneuvers the oxen around a rock in the road, and then looks up to find the other three eyeing him a little oddly. They’re not…wary, except maybe for Allison, but even with her, that’s tempered with…interest? Curiosity? It’s not quite that innocent.“He doesn’t look like what a revenant does to a person,” Allison says after a moment. “And if a revenant had really killed him, we wouldn’t be able to bring the body back.”“Yeah, I know. And you know, but the commander doesn’t know,” John says. “And look, normally I’d say getting people confused about how revenants work is a bad way to start, but right now the more important point is getting the commander to believe this is dangerous to us.”“Also, getting rid of questions about what happened to Haigh. I hate to say this, but legendary undead creature probably is better than he freaked out at exactly the right time to get a chunk of bread stuck in his throat,” Jordan says in a musing tone. He drums his fingers against the wagon again, then frowns. “But about what he was doing out here in the first place—”John shrugs. “Oh, I don’t know, didn’t trust me to do as good a job as Lahey, figured he’d see if the cooks were withholding food, because he hates your guts…I don’t think the commander’s really going to care which.”“True.” Jordan lifts his hand, pauses, and then lowers it. “No, that’s covered with the…okay. Okay. I think we got it.”“Yeah. Just stick to it, and if you don’t know, you don’t know because you weren’t there,” John tells them. “Do me a favor and let me do the talking, all right?”“Absolutely, sir,” Jordan says, smartass that he is.John lets it go because they’re getting near the point where Allison has to hide again. In the back of his mind, he is idly wondering who’s going to get promoted up to fill Haigh’s spot, but he doesn’t really think it’s a priority. That’s on the guard side of things, not staff, and he’s been told enough times that that side is no longer his problem, he’s not questioning it. * “So these revenants, you called them,” the commander says, staring at Haigh’s body. He keeps swallowing roughly and then hardening his expression, as if that convinces anybody that he isn’t rattled. “They come out of nowhere, and you have no idea what’s attracting them.”“Well, no, we know they’re following the road. That’s what the villagers are saying, sir,” John says. He gestures towards the jar holding the severed fingers and the commander grimaces, then waves for John to cap it and put it away. “We don’t know how far up they’ve gotten, but I think if we go up and down the road and ask each village, it won’t take that long to map it—”The commander suddenly whirls on his heel, bearing down on John with a furious expression. At least, it’s probably intended to look furious, but with how pale he is, he looks sick more than anything. “And how are we supposed to do that? With as few men as we have, which means I already don’t have anybody I can spare?”“Or we send word that villagers who’ve seen revenants come up here, and when they come in, we can ask them what they’ve seen,” John says. “Seeing as they have more food than we do, it’s also a way to save us a few supply runs.”“Well, and then what do we do with them once they’re here?” the commander demands. He spins around again and then sweeps out his arm towards a spot on the wall where the plaster’s fallen away. “Does this dump look like it’s equipped to be a refugee camp? We’re barely surviving on what we get when the capital remembers we’re here!”John resists the urge to point out that maybe, if the garrison had acted like it remembered where it was a little earlier, they’d have better relations with the surrounding villages and wouldn’t have to rely on erratic handouts from the other side of the pass. “We need to protect the pass, sir,” he limits himself to saying. “If we’re attacked and driven out, we can’t do that.”“Yes, I did know that.” The commander stalks around the table on which Haigh’s body is lying, raking at his hair and mumbling to himself. Then he lashes out and kicks the table leg, and then glowers as Haigh’s hand bounces with the jiggling till it falls off the edge. “And this moron just had to go out without leave, as if the men need more bad influences. Didn’t even say why, no, he just waltzed through the gates like personal business can just be conducted whenever he wants…he’s just as bad as that drunk who had your job before.”The commander snaps his fingers, looks expectantly at John, and then snaps them again. At that point John realizes the man is waiting for him serve up a prompt. “His name was Lahey, sir.”“Right. Useless excuse for a cook…and now I’ve got another cook telling me how to run my garrison,” the commander mutters.He gives John a vicious enough look that John reconsiders taking on the explaining instead of having Jordan do it—but then again, Jordan would insist on focusing on the revenant and probably would’ve lost patience with where the conversation’s going now, and just lost his temper. Which would be the right reaction, since the commander’s troubles are, frankly, his job, and he’s just whining when there is an actual problem to be solved, but even when he was captain of the palace guard, John didn’t make the mistake of thinking that telling superiors they needed a better attitude was going to work.John just prepares to wait out the commander’s ranting and then slip in his recommendations, like he’d do with any other semi-to-fully incompetent senior officer. And while that doesn’t land him in chains and on short rations like a yelling Jordan certainly would’ve gotten, it does mean he’s maybe a little slow to pick up on the commander’s segue to thoughtful.“Must feel a little more like home for you now?” the commander suddenly says. When John looks at him, he smiles and shakes his head. “The military side. You weren’t trained as a cook, after all.”And even with John’s experience and battle-hardened temper, it stings. “No, sir.”“Well, we’re short-handed, and you seem to want this problem. So it’s yours. I’ll tell Thomas to start sending all his requests to you, including whatever we need to bury Haigh here,” the commander snaps. He starts towards the door, then stops. Half-turns and holds up his hand. “Oh, and I’ll still be expecting my gratin, Stilinski. Everybody’s taking on extra loads and you’re not going to be an exception just because of your prior record. Which got you out here, anyway.”“Sir,” John says, just barely keeping himself from hissing it. He’s actually glad he has to bend his head, since then he doesn’t have to try to look serene about it. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- John might be getting screwed over, but he doesn’t dwell on it. He also has more leeway now, and he’s damn well going to use it. So when Thomas comes bumbling through the doorway, still shell-shocked, he thumps the man on the back to knock him out of the dry heaves he gets upon seeing Haigh’s corpse and then steers him into the hallway.“We know there’s no traffic coming down from the capital so I’m cutting patrols on that side of the wall. The men can shift over to going out on supply runs, which I’m doubling. And if we don’t have the money to buy food, we can do some light work for the villages and get it in kind. Dig ditches, build fences,” John says, continuing to walk Thomas down the hall. Every time the man tries to speak up, he gives Thomas a squeeze and then talks louder. He doesn’t feel great about it, but on the other hand, he really doesn’t need to go into the accounting right now; he knows it’s not going to be in their favor. It hasn’t been in their favor since any of them got staffed out here. “Payroll’s not for another few months, if it comes at all next time. So we need to keep the men happy, just like you said, and we do that by feeding them better and wearing them out so they don’t have time to think about being discontented. All right?”They get to the end of the hall. John stops but loosens his grip so that Thomas almost walks out of it, and then he grabs the man’s arm to spin him back so they’re facing each other. Thomas blinks up at him, mouth slightly open, a squeamish look on his face.“He promoted you,” Thomas says. He grimaces and pulls out a handkerchief and mops at his forehead, and then sighs. “And you’re not wasting time about it, are you?”At least John doesn’t have to remind the man they’re equally ranked now. Thomas is caving, that’s written into the slump of his shoulders and the defeated squint on his face. “No, but look, I’m a lot more reasonable than Haigh. Let me take care of the guards and I’ll let you take care of the accounts. I won’t pester you about them.”“Well, the commander still will,” Thomas mutters, his eyes shifting to either side of John. “As if anybody’s going to audit them…all right, fine, you front-liners never want to listen anyway. Anything else?”“Oh, yeah. I’m hiring a cook,” John says. He frowns and thinks for a second. “And a housekeeper. They’re cheap, the housekeeper’s the cook’s daughter, but I need them because if the commander wants that potato dish—”Thomas rolls his eyes. “Fine, whatever, I don’t care so long as we don’t get killed. Have your cook and your housekeeper, just keep whatever did that to Haigh out. Understand?”“I think we’re on the same page, yeah,” John says, and goes off to let Chris and Allison know.He finds them both in his rooms, along with Jordan. Allison’s more than happy to take the revenant fingers off John’s hands and over to the barracks to teach the guards proper disposal, and she in turn drags Jordan out of there before he can do more than look gleefully at John. Jordan clearly thinks that all of their problems have been solved by John’s latest promotion, and John makes a note to himself to head over later and disabuse Jordan of that idea before he does something stupid, like announce to the whole guard that they’re going on a campaign against the revenants.But first, John’s got something to run by Chris. “I need you to look at something for me.”“I was just going to head back to the kitchen,” Chris says. He’s turned around and pulling out something from under the bed: a handful of sheets that have obviously been scavenged from around the garrison, with how much they vary in size and shape. “Things were pretty quiet while you were out, just a lot of speculation about why you’re so stupid about going out now that you can stay in and loaf around and not get exposed to—oh.”John finishes pulling his shirt over his head, and just catches Chris wiping an odd look off his face. The man’s startled but there’s something else to it, an interest in being startled that is swiftly followed by an expression so blank it looks like it hurts.“On my back,” John says, turning and gesturing. “I think it might’ve touched me, and it’s felt a little numb ever—”“Oh,” Chris says, and his face comes back alive with concern. He stoops down and braces one hand on his knee, peering at John’s back as John awkwardly tries to point where the spot is.It’s more of a line, running from just above his waist and near his spine up towards one of his shoulderblades, and from the way Chris grimaces, he hasn’t just been imagining it. “It’s not bleeding.”“No, but that’s not what they do,” Chris mutters. He reaches out but doesn’t actually touch John. Instead he just traces out the stripe, hand going up and then back down, the light heat coming off his fingertips a sharp contrast to the cool non-feeling where the revenant had grazed John. “Not that deep…did you show Allison?”John shakes his head. He almost asks why Chris would even ask that, and then realizes if it sounds that defensive in his head, then it’ll be even worse out of his mouth, and anyway he doesn’t have to defend—and Chris is probably just wondering why he wouldn’t consult with the other person who could help him. “It wasn’t bothering me that much and we were busy. I figured it’d go away, but it’s been almost a day now and I can still feel it.”Chris steps back, still stooped over and peering at John’s back. “Well, it’ll fade over time, but there’s a tisane that will speed it up.”“Do we have the stuff for that?” John says, turning around. “Herbs go into a tisane, right? And what, tea? I know we don’t have tea, and it’s been a couple days since I was in there, but I don’t think we’ve got anything but salt and pepper. Maybe a dried chili pepper somewhere.”“We’ve got a little bit more than that. Not much, but I can see what we can do with it,” Chris says.John frowns and starts shuffling his shirt back onto his arms, watching the other man straighten up. “Well, where did that come from? I wasn’t joking, the cupboards really are—”“Yeah, but I cleaned out Lahey’s rooms while you were out, and he had a pretty sizable stash of goodies,” Chris says. He pauses and cocks his head at John’s cut-off exclamation. “I only took what shouldn’t have been in there. Quartermaster hadn’t gotten around to it yet, so I figured somebody should.”“Right, somebody would get around to it,” John says, suddenly realizing what must have set off Haigh. No doubt he’d had the same idea, but had checked Lahey’s room after Chris had gone through it, and then assumed that John had beaten him there.Chris had been coming off almost amused at John, but John must sound strange because now the man backs up with a wary look on his face. He stops, waits for John to focus on him, and then goes slowly over to the door to Stiles’ room. He’s keeping both hands in sight and keeping his back away from John.“I’ve got it all in here. I would have put them back where they should’ve been instead of waiting for you, except I wasn’t sure…” he starts.“Yeah. Yeah, I mean, no, that was common sense. If you’d just refilled the storage rooms, the rest of them probably would have filched it before we could get it down on record,” John mutters. Then he shakes himself and waves Chris off before Chris goes through the trouble of opening the door. “We should go over it before we turn it over to Thomas too. He’s not as bad as the rest of them, but he takes his skim.”“Oh, I already did that,” Chris says. More relaxed, he just drops his back against the door and then shuffles through that bunch of papers he pulled from under the bed till he finds one he holds up for John to see. “Inventoried it all. Had to guess the weights, couldn’t sneak up the kitchen scale, but I guess if I’m public now, I can just redo that part. Shouldn’t take me more than an hour, and I’ve got to wait for the tisane to steep anyway.”“Do I need that?” John asks. He throws his shirt back on and pulls it down just till his head’s free, and then shifts to tugging the sleeves straight. “It’s not really bothering me, and if it’s going away on its own…”“It’d still help. It can flare up, if you’re under stress or you get hurt again—better to just clear it up as quick as you can,” Chris says. He cocks his head and looks John over, and suddenly he’s amused again. “It doesn’t taste awful, as tisanes go. You’re not going to have to dose it with rotgut or anything like that to get it down.”John makes a face as he flaps down the shirt over his belly. “Sure, that’s what they always say.”“I’ll go make a batch anyway. Stuff keeps, and with what you’re planning, we’ll want it on hand,” Chris says, and he’s outright smirking at John now. He drops it whenever John looks over, but John can catch it out of the corner of his eye. “It’s just about time to get them started on dinner, too.”“Wait, what, you mean the cooks?” John says, hastily tucking in his shirt. Then he snags Chris just as the other man’s going by him. “Hold on, I’ll go down with you.”Chris raises his brows. “Aren’t you supposed to be running a stealth campaign against revenants right now?”“It’s—we’re teaching people what to look for and what to do if they see it, we’re still not going out there hunting ourselves,” John says. “I can’t push it that far, I’m still not the commander, and speaking of, I’m also still the head cook.”“But you can’t cook,” Chris points out.John sighs. Then, feeling Chris’ arm shift in his grip, he tightens that. “Okay, no, but I’m supposed to supervise them and they don’t even know who you are.”“So I’ll introduce myself,” Chris says.“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to do that?” John says. He sounds defensive and a little whiny, and he’s not sure why, considering that one, he’s got a legitimate concern, and two, this is all supposed to be his call anyway, legitimate or not. “What if they don’t believe—and don’t say anything about wine barrels.”“I wasn’t going to, seeing as we’ve got better things to put in them,” Chris says, amused. He shakes off John’s grip but makes an effort to sober up. “Look, I’ve watched them, it’s not really what they believe in so much as what’ll save them the most trouble. You know that.”Honestly, John can’t dispute that. On the other hand, he’s also not just going to ignore it when the math doesn’t add up. “So how are you saving them trouble?”“Well, I cook a lot better than all of them, and if they listen to me, they’re going to get less complaints from the guards.” A little glint of humor is sneaking back into Chris’ eyes, though his mouth is still a thin, serious line. “I guess if they don’t, I’ll go call you, how about that?”“Fine. Try it out, but I’ll come over as soon as I’m done addressing the guards,” John says.“However you want it done,” Chris says agreeably. And then he stands there, holding his papers with one poked out a little like…John remembers what it is just as Chris jiggles it, a look of pretend-uncertainty on his face. “So did you want me to redo the inventory?”“Fine, do that too,” John says, giving up. Sure, that’s exactly what Chris wants, but picking your battles and this is the man who’s making up some nasty herbal remedy for John to drink and supposedly get better, and John’s already got enough future headaches lined up right now. If Chris wants to terrify the cooks—because them terrifying Chris is not on John’s mind—then they’re overdue for it anyway, and they’ll probably come out the better for it. “Just so long as nobody dies.”Chris starts to look offended. “You remember it wasn’t intentional last time.”“Yeah, well, that’s why I said nobody dies, and not don’t kill anybody,” John mutters, giving him a hard stare.John doesn’t exactly stare Chris down, but Chris shrugs an assent and that’s good enough for now. “All right, I need to go talk to the guards before Jordan gets them all worked up,” he tells Chris. “I’ll see you in the kitchen, and—oh, and thanks.”He’s on his way out the door when he says that and that’s blocking his view of Chris when the other man says…whatever he says, John can’t make it out, except that it sounds surprised. John ducks back around the door, but Chris just looks at him like he’s the one who should be explaining. So John sighs and then heads off to try and be a leader. * John is not fond of making speeches.He’s not fond of the leadership approach where you intimidate people into following you out of fear, either. Anyway, while letting an idiot pick a fight had worked with the cooks, that was less a matter of fear and more a matter of correcting their impression of him from months of silently swallowing Lahey’s bullshit. Once they’d figured out they were all on the same level, at the least, they settled down. Guards, on the other hand, can’t look at their officers as being equals—that’s just not how the chain of command works. But it’s stupid to give people trained to stab other people in the back a reason to test those skills out on you.What John ends up doing is telling them in plain terms what a revenant is and does, and that seeing as they can’t formally go out and take care of it, since the commander will never approve that, they’re going to informally spread the word so the locals can take care of it. And telling them that as long as they stick to a couple rules about it, he can explain what they’re doing to the commander. They’re not dumb, just cooped-up and bored and frustrated, and unlike John and the commander, they’ve all been recruited from the surrounding area so those are their home villages John’s talking about teaching.It goes over pretty well, John thinks. There were enough mutters and snorted asides about the commander that John will have to keep an ear to the ground, since all-out revolt isn’t something he wants to use to test just how disconnected they are from the capital now, but overall he thinks the activity will do more to settle the men than stir them up.The kitchen, on the other hand…the kitchen is quiet. Very quiet.“Redid the inventory, and we’re bottling the tisane and putting it up over there,” Chris says, pointing to a shelf behind his head. He’s elbow-deep in some kind of dough, while all around him, cooks move with a lack of bellyaching, arguing, sloppiness…just generally a lot more efficient, even compared to the few weeks John was directly managing them. Especially compared to that. “I’m making enough, just every guard going out should be able to take a flask with them. Then we’ll run out of ingredients, but if we’re sending out supply runs more often, I’ll make you a list of what to ask for—”“This is for the whole—for all of our supplies,” John says, looking at the sheet of paper lying on the counter next to Chris.Chris whacks down the lump of dough, grunting, and then molds it back into a ball. He dumps it in a bowl and drapes a damp towel over that, and then uses another damp towel to wipe off his hands. “Yeah, I started putting stuff away and thought I might as well get the totals fixed while I was at it. There isn’t much overall.”John makes a face as he carefully folds up the paper. The cooks are avidly listening in, he notices, although every time Chris starts to move one hand their way, they hurriedly return to what they’d been doing. Even if he doesn’t look over.“You know we have a whole officer just for inventory,” John mutters under his breath.“Yeah, but his records needed to be corrected too,” is Chris’ bland answer. At least he takes his cue from John and lowers his voice. “He came by. I introduced myself. Took a look. He did offer.”John opens his mouth. Then shuts it. Looks around for an excuse and sees the empty pan they use for the commander’s gratin. “You didn’t start this yet?” he says, picking up. Chris starts to say something about he’s got everything waiting in the backroom and John nods and puts his hand on Chris’ shoulder and steers them towards the hall. “Good, let’s have a look, make sure it’s all up to the commander’s standards.” Chris doesn’t resist, and when they’re safely behind the shut door, he goes and…starts slicing potatoes on the mandolin he’s dug up from somewhere; maybe Lahey was hoarding equipment as well as food. “Well, I do need to get it started while you’re saying whatever you need to,” he says, just as John’s getting over that flash of incredulity. “I guess we’re still pretending you make it?”“Yeah, that seems best,” John says. He works his mouth some, then catches himself rubbing at the side of his face. “Don’t you—”“Oh, forgot,” Chris says, and puts down a potato to pull out a small bottle. He pushes it across the table towards John. “Drink that now, and I’ll get you another one before you turn in, and that should clear it up. But you’re going to want a big bottle like the rest of them when you go out.”“I—right. Fine.” John takes the bottle, which isn’t much bigger than his hand, and uncorks it. Gives it a sniff and it’s…got that musty smell apothecaries always have, but it’s not already bringing the bile up in his throat. “Listen, about—that and this—and unless I’m getting something wrong, you’re acting like you’re just going to be running the kitchen here.”Chris looks up with an expression of muted surprise. “I’m your cook. Aren’t I? Allison’s got the skills too, but she doesn’t know so many recipes so it did seem to make more sense to have her be the housekeeper—”“I was just saying that!” John hisses. “I didn’t actually—I wasn’t actually planning on that. Honestly, are you thinking your daughter’s going to do my laundry now?”“Well, she was already doing that,” Chris says, blinking. He shrugs a little at John’s dropped jaw. “You don’t seem like you’ve got the time to check what the washers are doing with it, judging by the stains and scorches they were sending back. She got upset about how they were treating you and she didn’t have anything else to do. I figured it was good for us learning the basement layout.”“Right, but now we’re sending teams out and we’re going to run up against revenants again, sooner or later,” John says after a long pause, during which he tries to determine whether Chris is really that calm or whether the man’s possibly insane. “She’s more useful going out and helping the guards learn what to do.”Chris nods. “She’ll be happy with that, and she can handle herself around them, so that shouldn’t be a concern.”“I made it clear to everybody that mistreating her is going to come straight back up to me, and I will deal personally with one responsible,” John says. Haigh’s words come to mind, even though he’s expecting that and tries to grimace them before they can surface.He rubs at his face again, and then looks up to see Chris watching him closely. “I appreciate that, and so will she,” Chris says, slower, more sober. He shakes off a slice that’s stuck to the mandolin, then puts that down. Looks at it and then back up at John. “Like I said, she can take care of herself, but as her father, I do feel better when she doesn’t have to.”“Yeah,” John says. He’s never really gotten comfortable with this part of the job, dealing with the families, and he fiddles with the bottle. Almost tips it over, and when he curses and grabs it up, he’s so flustered that he just downs the contents without thinking.It tastes…so it’s not the worst. He’s still not going to be looking forward to that nighttime dose, he thinks, and looks up just as Chris smiles at him, more sympathetic than amused.Chris startles a little upon being caught out, and then has to make a visible effort to compose himself. John watches all of that curiously, then remembers he actually had a point to make. “Well, so wouldn’t you be out with them too?” he says. “We need whatever we can put out there, out there.”“But you can’t cook,” Chris says.They stare at each other. Without looking down, Chris grabs a double handful of potato slices and dumps them into a bowl with the dressing.“Are you—are you actually saying you think it’s more important for you to stay in the kitchen?” John eventually manages to squeeze out. Disbelief’s got him grunting it and he swallows to get some moisture in his throat, and gets an echo-taste of the herbal stuff. He makes a face and then gestures at Chris. “You’re gonna stay in and cook?”“Well, you didn’t say I was your beater or anything like that,” Chris says, mixing up potatoes with one hand. “You said I was your cook. And you need one since you—”“Can’t, yeah, I heard you the—actually, I knew that already, I never said it was something I was good at,” John says. He puts his hands against the edge of the table and pushes back on them, then looks up at Chris. “You’re making fun of me.”Chris’ brows twitch, the only giveaway in his otherwise neutral face. “Listen, if you’re out there not actually hunting revenants while in here, you’ve got a commander who didn’t actually tell you to do that—”“He said handle it,” John says.“He said it was your problem now, not that you can handle it and do whatever he wants and he’ll back you up on it,” Chris says. He uses his wrists to tilt the bowl and glances into it, then sticks his hands back into the potato mixture and keeps tossing. “The point is, who’s keeping an eye on things here?”Somehow, John thinks, he really should have seen that coming. And it all makes sense, and he can’t really fault Chris for bringing it up, but…he’s irked anyway. “An ex-hunter I don’t really know?”“We’ve been sharing a bed for how long now?” Chris says.John stares at him for a good minute, and in that whole time, Chris’ relaxed, faintly exasperated expression doesn’t slip once. The man is good.What irks John the most, he decides, is that he really doesn’t want to be irked at the man. And with all the other ridiculous things that he used to disapprove of, at the least, and that he’s now not only sanctioning but initiating, he just…he really isn’t who he used to be. Sure, that’s obvious but it just—he just didn’t quite think it straight out like that before.“Look,” Chris says, finally starting to show a little worry. “I’m just trying to make sure everything is covered, and the doors will be open when you come back. You’ve got Allison and as long as people listen to her, she should be able to run whatever teams you send out.”“Yeah,” John says. He scratches at the side of his face and wonders where he’s even going to find the time to deal with this, considering that revenants are out there. And then he wonders whether he has to even deal with it, and then he decides he just won’t. Which will probably blow up in his face later, but…later sounds pretty good right now. “Yeah, I know. And you’re making fun of me.”Chris pauses and looks a little more closely at John. His mouth twitches as if he’s amused, but a flash of irritation goes through his eyes, as if maybe he’s having a little bit of John’s problem where he can’t help himself, even though he knows that’s a risk he doesn’t have to and shouldn’t take.“I swear on the head of my daughter that I’m not going to depose the commander or otherwise take over this garrison, how’s that?” Chris finally says. He pulls his hands out of the potatoes and clamps the bowl between his wrists to scoot it towards the waiting pan. “I’ll also do my best to not get you promoted any further. I think that covers everything.”“Just…you know you’re not actually my cook, right?” John sighs. The argument was lost before he even started it, if he’s honest with himself. Situation’s too urgent, they’re too short-handed and he doesn’t have any other realistic choices. And…well, he does trust Chris, despite barely knowing him. If that gets John killed, he’ll accept it; he had his chances and he knows what he’s doing, not taking them.Chris looks up in surprise from where he’s started laying the potatoes in the pan. “Well, whatever you want to say,” he says, shrugging. “It’s your explanation.”“I still—” think you’re making fun of me, John almost says. He doesn’t because that’s just going to start the conversation in another circle and he needs to get out of the damn spiral he’s already in. He shakes his head, then heads for the door. “Right. Let me know when dinner’s ready.”“I’ll call you,” Chris agrees, continuing to lay potatoes. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- After that, things go reasonbly well. The commander retreats into his rooms to fire off a bunch of letters to the capital about how ill-supported they are and how neglectful the bureaucracy’s been, and only comes out for food and the odd rant at John about making sure the men aren’t getting sloppy with their uniforms. Seeing as nobody’s calling for parade any time soon, John just nods through it and lets Chris know the commander is going to need an extra helping of potatoes.Thomas is around a little bit more, but he actively avoids anything to do with revenants—out of fear he’ll be required to go out with them, it seems—and mostly hangs around the kitchen to inventory the new supplies they’re bringing in. Though that’s still a trickle, and Chris always hands him a revised inventory at the end of any day they receive something, whereupon, John’s been reliably told, he just produces a sickly little smile and throws away his list. Anyway, it keeps him out of John’s way and paper’s one thing they aren’t short on.“I think we actually are getting somewhere now, with these trips out,” Jordan says to John after the third one.He and John have taken to meeting at the end of each day in the barracks. They use Haigh’s old rooms, which were cleaned out of anything personal, but which don’t have to be turned over to anybody else. John could have switched over, he supposes; they’re twice as large as his current rooms. But they’re also farther from the kitchen and even if Chris is keeping the cooks quiet, John still thinks trouble’s more likely to come from there than the guards, who’ve all fallen into line now that they actually have something to work on.Lahey’s rooms are free too but John just…he feels weird taking anything from either dead man, even if he wasn’t a willing cause of their death. Call him superstitious, but then, he’s talking with Jordan precisely because some superstitions come true. “More sightings?” he asks.“Not only that, but they’re pretty sure they nailed one,” Jordan says, swinging his legs up onto a crate. “Didn’t find a body, but they did find this patch of…sorry, wasn’t sure how long you’d be down there.”Allison comes in, making a face at Jordan, and then hands John a cloth-wrapped plate. She’s got a hunk of bread in her other hand, and as outrage slowly spreads over Jordan’s face, she sits down on another crate and smiles sweetly at him. “Dad just wanted to make sure he ate,” she says, nodding at John. “We’re supposed to look after him.”“Anyway. As I was saying, before I was so crudely told to get my own stowaway household.” Jordan narrows his eyes at her, but he stays sprawled down as he was. And ignores John when John rolls his eyes and offers some of the steamed vegetables, so apparently, Jordan’s not that hungry. “They found this patch of black stuff that they said was the thing’s blood. Don’t worry, scooped up the dirt and tossed it on a fire and everything, but even if it didn’t take the revenant down for good, it’s been good for morale. Word’s spreading that you can hurt them.”“They’re all still asking why can’t the guards at least stay out in the villages, if we aren’t allowed to let people into the garrison,” Allison says, frowning. She doesn’t eat her bread, just squeezes it between her fingers. “I don’t think it’s going to boil over, but it’s hard to explain. We’re asking them to tell us what’s going on but we can’t promise we’ll come out to respond if they do.”“That’s not our call,” Jordan says, looking back towards John. “Overnights are commander-only decisions, unless it’s an emergency. We’re doing the best we can, which is a hell of a lot better than what we were doing before.”Allison looks irritated with him. “I’m not saying we aren’t trying. I’m just saying it’s hard for them to understand.”“Well, the guard gets it, anyway,” Jordan mutters, using his heels to rock his crate. When the crate unexpectedly drops with a loud thud, making Allison start, he smiles insincerely at her.He’s not stupid, he understands perfectly well what Allison is saying—he’s even said versions of the same himself to John in private. And John appreciates the public show of loyalty, but one, they’re not in public, the three of them have this regular meeting precisely so they can hash things out before John issues an order. Two, that was just juvenile, so John treats it like he would any idiot prank and kicks the crate out from under Jordan’s feet. Then he drops his plate on his lap and reaches over to thump Jordan straight when the man, yelping, almost teeters off his seat.“I know, but either we get the commander to come around or we figure out how to deal with the revenants during day trips,” John says.Jordan rights himself, giving both John and a smirking Allison betrayed looks. Then he shrugs off the annoyance and gets back to business. “We couldn’t switch to night-only runs, could we? It’s still the same amount of time, just out at dusk and in at dawn. Some of the guards are getting…anxious, let’s put it that way. It’s not that they don’t believe the revenants are out there but I think they could use a chance to see they can hurt these things too.”“You’re looking at me like you don’t already know the answer to that,” John says dryly. “Commander’s still the same, and I’m not sure why you think he listens to me more now than when I was just the cook who knew how to make his potatoes.”A dogged spark of hope goes through Jordan’s eyes, but his shoulders are slumping. “Well, just checking,” he mutters. “Lot of things have happened lately, like your promotion. You never said just what you said to him to get it, anyway.”“So about convincing him,” Allison breaks in, while aiming a surreptitious kick at Jordan’s ankle. “Dad and I were talking it over, and we were thinking it might help if he had the impression the revenants are blocking the way over the pass. Then he’d have no choice to go out and fight, if only so he can run later.”“But they’re not on that side of the mountains, they’re on this side,” John says, and then he looks sharply at her. “And I hope you’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.”Jordan rolls his eyes. “We don’t have enough salt to waste on packing a whole one, I know, I know, I heard you both before.”“And that doesn’t work when they’re alive anyway,” Allison says. She gives Jordan another annoyed look and he jerks his legs away, then realizes she hadn’t even made a move towards him. Looking pleased, Allison brushes crumbs off her knees. “No, we weren’t thinking about sneaking one around to the other side of the fort. We were thinking if he got a message that payroll wasn’t coming anymore, it’d force him to go out and see what’s going on.”“Oh,” Jordan says. He sits up and assumes a thoughtful face. Then he puts his hand out in front of him and silently ticks something off on his fingers. “Well, it’s not likely to come in suddenly and prove us wrong, I’m pretty sure about that.”“But that could upset other people, not just him—look, I’ll think about it, but I don’t want to jump too fast on this. It might look like we’re doing well, but some—a lot of that, that’s down to us getting lucky. You can’t count on that,” John says. He leans forward and stares at both of them till they give him reluctant nods—he has to come back to Allison because her first one comes too fast and too easily to be believable—and then settles with his plate. “Okay. So now that that’s out of the way, can we get back to my question? How do we deal with what’s just in front of us right now?”“Okay,” Allison says. She looks like she’s thinking it over, and not thinking over the whole commander issue, but there’s just a little bit of poise to how she’s doing it that makes John eye her. “I can go back to Dad and talk about whether maybe there’s a way to temporarily hold them, just long enough that we can kill one. We’ve been working on repelling them, but we could do a pit trap, something like that. It’ll just have to be really deep to keep them from climbing out.”Jordan shrugs. “Guess we’ll just have to flex those rusty siege skills of ours.”He also has calmed down way too quickly for John to completely buy it, but since he’s being constructive, John decides to let it go for now. Anyway, John figures, neither of them can do anything on their own, and by the time they get broader support for whatever they’re planning, John should have heard something. When he’s got more details, then he’ll deal with it. * “You at least get why I’m concerned, right?” John asks Chris later, when they’ve turned in for the night.He probably should have done this when the lantern was still burning, because now he’s just got to go on the tone of Chris’ voice. But Allison was in their room up almost till he and Chris crawled into bed, wanting to go over trapdoor plans with her father, and John didn’t want to go over things again in front of her. Besides, John supposes that having Chris’ face visible wouldn’t give him that many more clues to the man’s feelings.“Commander’s still the legitimate leader here, and it’s one thing to act beyond your authority because he’s not bothering to shut you down, while it’s another to outright overthrow him. Yeah, I get it,” Chris says, sounding understanding without giving away which way his sympathies might be leaning. “Whipping and demotion and jail versus hanging, if I remember right.”Then again, maybe John doesn’t need those extra clues if the man’s going to do him the dubious favor of mouthing off. He rolls over onto his side, facing Chris, and then grabs Chris’ shoulder as the other man starts to move like he’s getting up. “Versus a goddamn war if he gets away and runs back to the capital,” John hisses. “Listen, I took the demotion to come out here because I still wanted to make sure problems got taken care of, even if I had to figure out how to do it as a cook who don’t say it, I know. I didn’t come out here so I could stew over it and then go on some ego trip that’ll end up killing a bunch of people.”Chris’ shoulder shifts under his hand, then pulls back. He holds onto it, but it turns out that Chris is just turning onto his side too, and John ends up having his hand trapped under Chris’ ear. “And I gave you my word,” he says, tone edged with irritation. “We aren’t here to mess things up for you.”“Yeah, well, says who?” John mutters.“Chris Argent. I did tell you that,” Chris snaps back. They both breathe for a second, heavy and rough, and then Chris’ breathing slows into a sigh. His head rolls off of John’s hand. “You’re taking all the people who’d want to do anything with you when you go out. There’s nobody here to work with anyway.”“Which is why you always stay back.” That’s a good point, and John had half-forgotten about it, and anyway, he feels reasonably confident that Chris isn’t as quick off the trigger as his daughter might be. So now he feels a bit guilty for pressing the man, even if it was necessary.“I’d say why, but you just told me not to,” Chris says dryly. He doesn’t sound like he’s holding a grudge. He even snorts and gives John an absent pat when John, withdrawing, accidentally bangs his knee into Chris’ hip. “Just, if you can dig up any nutmeg, it’d be handy.”“Nutmeg,” John mutters. “Okay.”Chris gives him a few seconds and then pats him again. “Allison can tell you what it looks like.”John does his best to swallow the annoyed grumble that rises in his throat, because he is not a petty man, or one whose pride gets injured because he genuinely doesn’t know something and somebody’s trying to teach him. He tries hard, and then jams his face into his pillow to muffle the part that he can’t hold back on.“So you had a choice between here and there?” Chris asks.“What?” John says, lifting his head.A little silence passes before Chris explains himself, and it’s awkward enough that John half-thinks Chris might just drop it. “You said you took the demotion,” he finally says.“Oh, yeah. That.” The tight way Chris sounds now, he obviously thinks he’s treading on eggshells. John’s a little puzzled—not because he can’t understand why Chris would be so wary, because he does, but because he really doesn’t feel that mad about it anymore. Sure, there are some things he misses about the capital, and life here still isn’t ideal, and he has no idea what his son is up to…but he’s finally able to take action and that goes a long way. “I was getting exiled one way or the other, I pissed off too many people, but they did…Stiles was younger then, so they offered us both exile here, or I could keep him in the capital till he finished school if I agreed to go work on withdrawing the army.”“You two wanted to stay together,” Chris says.John nods into his pillow. “Yeah. Yeah, that, Stiles wouldn’t even—he hit the roof and stole a bunch of books from the palace lib—anyway. It’s riskier here and I wasn’t thrilled about that for him, but being the guy ordering out troops from all the places we swore we’d protect…places we razed to the ground just a couple generations ago so they’d take that offer…it wasn’t going to make him safer in the long run anyway. And at least I’d see for myself what was going on here.”“I didn’t really want to go to the capital to deal with the revenants either,” Chris says after a second. He shifts and from the way the bedsheets move, how his breath filters across to John’s face, John can tell they’re still facing each other. “More than not being sure they’d actually do anything—these things started out as weapons. The more people learn about them, the bigger the chance somebody will think about using them that way again, and that’s what my family—that’s not what I wanted to have happen. But it’s bad enough I just couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.”“Well, you’re not heading for the capital now,” John points out.“Yeah, well, no matter who’s running it, as long as this pass holds, I think there’s a chance,” Chris says. He seems about to go on, but then there’s just the sound of his teeth clicking against each other. Then his pillow rustles, and a second later, he tugs the bedsheets back up, apparently going to sleep.John waits for a few more minutes, then shrugs and closes his eyes, too. That’s handled, he hopes. * Two days later, just as John’s coming into the fort, he’s told that the commander wants to see him immediately. And not by one of the handful of guards who stays back, or by a cook, but by an unnerved-looking quartermaster.“What happened?” John says, climbing down from the wagon.“He wants to see you right now,” Thomas repeats. Sweaty, eyes darting back and forth between John and…Allison, who’s one wagon back, helping Jordan unload.John glances around the tops of the garrison walls, and the guards that he sees are paying more attention to the dead deer they managed to bag. He checks the obvious hiding places nearby and doesn’t see any tell-tale out-of-place shadows or anything like that, and his skin isn’t prickling like it would be if he had walked straight into an ambush.He only feels uneasy when he looks at Thomas. The man’s always on edge and it wouldn’t be the first time that the commander’s sent him into a nervous fit, but something about the way he’s fidgeting right now doesn’t sit right with John. “Yeah, all right,” John says, stepping back. “Allison, can you pass me my bag?”She looks up, frowning, since he’s going up against her wagon and not the one he’d just gotten off of. He catches her eye and then points to her bag, which has a couple knives and probably a scavenged crossbow, even if she hasn’t yet slipped up to let him actually see her with it. Her eyes slide over to Thomas, and then she nods and crosses the wagon-bed to get the bag for John. Steps on Jordan’s foot on the way, so he stops looking like he’s going to jump down and hit Thomas over the head with that cask he’s holding.Thomas doesn’t seem to notice any of the byplay, that’s how nervous he is, and when John has his bag and starts after him, he outright flees to the door to the officer’s quarters before stopping himself. Even then, he’s gripping the doorway with white knuckles and John has to clear his throat before the man, starting, will lead him on.“What’s the matter?” John asks as they walk down the hall.“I told you,” Thomas blurts out, accusing and plaintive at the same time. “I told you, didn’t I? I told you to keep it quiet, but you couldn’t—couldn’t you just hide them? Why did you have to—why would you—”The blood in John’s veins suddenly goes cold. For a moment he thinks about running back and getting Allison and—he gets hold of himself. Makes himself take a breath, remember Jordan’s there with her, and there’s no way the guards are siding against them.“Did somebody die?” he asks, as calmly as he can.“Don’t be so cocky,” Thomas hisses at him. “You think just because he let you run things for a while, you’re the high-flying officer you used to be? You’re still just stuck out here, just like the rest of us, except at least we have a chance of getting home when you’ll just have to stay—”They’re almost to the commander’s quarters. Rafael’s inside—there’s light coming out from under the door and occasionally a shadow sweeps across the crack, like somebody’s pacing in front of it. John’s slightly in front of Thomas so he gets to the door first, and tries the knob, but the commander always keeps it locked. He knows that; he just wants the rattle of the bolt.Then he steps back, making room for Thomas as rapid footsteps approach the door. Thomas keeps going on about how he’d warned John, and John nods and slides the bag off his shoulder, tugging open the strings and putting his hand inside. The crossbow’s there, as expected. It’s not loaded—Allison stowed it properly, with the bowstring off and probably tucked somewhere on her—so John just grabs the end, and as the door opens, he swings it out and into the side of Thomas’ head, knocking the man squarely through the doorway.Thomas’ arms come up and out, windmilling, and one of his hands smacks into the lintel. John curses and jerks forward, thinking that’ll keep the man from falling—but no, Thomas has lost his balance for good and he’s falling into the door hard enough to send it flinging wide open. A cry and a clatter from inside the room tells John the door’s caught somebody on that side.John ducks through the doorway and hops over Thomas’ legs, wheeling around the edge of the door, trying to see who he’s hit. His foot comes down on something that rolls slightly and he grabs for the door to stay upright, and his view skews so instead of taking in what’s behind the door, it sweeps across the room to Chris, dried blood streaking down one side of his face, kneeling on the floor with his hands lashed in front of him to a table-leg. Chris’ shirt is crumpled next to him, and there’s a bright red welt curling around his ribcage, and the thing John just stepped on is a leather belt.“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Stilinski?” snaps the commander.He’s still on the floor. Empty-handed, thankfully, and his eyes widen as John pivots back to him with the crossbow in hand. “Don’t know yet, to be honest,” John says. He steps over Thomas, who’s limp but groaning, not completely out, and gives the man a hard nudge in the ribs with his boot-heel, not trying to break any bones but just warning him what’ll happen if he gets up. Then he gets his toe under the belt, flips it up into the air, and after he’s caught it, he tosses it to the far end of the room. “What were you doing?”Rafael stares hard at him. For all that the man’s turned into a bullying, over-strung and and under-concerned asshole, he’s not without brains, and once he had been shrewd enough to make it up to commander level before getting the post out here. So he thinks it over before answering John.“That,” he says, slowly putting his arm out and pointing at Chris. “That is an Argent. And you—you—you’ve been harboring him this entire time and you think you’re going to fight the revenants? You idiot.”John comes sideways into the room, crossing towards Chris without turning away from Rafael or Thomas. He checks that Rafael doesn’t have anything near or on him that could pass for a weapon, and then glances at Chris’ back—only a couple welts, so they weren’t at it for that long. “Well, I’m an idiot, so explain that to me, would you? Why am I an idiot?”“This is mutiny,” Rafael says. He laughs sharply, but he’s sitting on the floor, not so much sprawled on it, clearly calming down. “I knew you were going to get there, nobody like you takes exile well, and of course you had to come down with a crusade in mind and you’re listening to one of them, and I really thought you had some kind of good intention at the bottom of this, but—”“My family fought the witch who made the first one,” Chris suddenly says. “That’s what he means. We fought her and we fought the revenants but we didn’t—we couldn’t get them all, so we had to seal them up and I didn’t say before because—”“Well, because he’s obviously planned this and he’s unleashing them on us now, and this is all your plan to get your old job back, isn’t it?” Rafael shouts. “Trick me outside and let me be eaten and then take all the guards and march on the capital and—”“Why the hell would I want to do that?” John says. “Honestly, if I just wanted the men, I could’ve just poisoned your damn gratin and done that weeks ago. I don’t want to go back there to those assholes. Maybe you do, but I don’t.”Cut off, Rafael just gapes at him, mouth twitching. Then the man suddenly bolts up onto his knees and John brings the crossbow around, but Rafael’s not trying to lunge. No, he’s jabbing his finger at something just beyond John’s current field of vision. He’s still speechless but he’s trying to talk, the odd scraping noise coming out of his open mouth, but something seems to be blocking him. His face is going red, he’s trying so hard—redder and redder and finally John starts to fear that the man’s choking.“What—” John says.“He’s—John, he’s—” Chris snaps, and John slips up and looks at him instead of Rafael.John immediately whips back around, but is only in time to see Rafael’s foot disappearing in the hall, while Thomas, kicked hard in passing, whimpers and curls up into a ball in the doorway. And—well, fine, so John’s damn well mutinying now on top of everything. He throws himself towards the doorway and grabs Thomas’ arm, dragging the other man up onto his feet and into the hall. By then Rafael’s nearly to the end, and Thomas is trying to snake himself loose, crying for John to leave him out of it. Which John would like nothing better, but he’s not leaving the man in the same room as Chris so he hauls Thomas a few yards down, then drops him. Backtracks and yanks the door to Rafael’s quarters shut, and then keeps going to the window at that end of the hall.Once the shutters are wrenched open, John climbs out onto the sill and peers down the side of the building. There will still be too many people at the front gates so he figures Rafael’s headed towards the back gate, and he’s proven right when he sees Rafael fleeing across the courtyard towards the kitchens.John sucks in a breath, then jumps down to the lower roof of the next building over. Protest aches spike through his knees but he forces himself on, scrambling to the other side and then down via a stack of crates. A trio of bewildered cooks spill out of the kitchen, one of them with a fresh splatter of sauce on his front, and when John calls out to them, they whirl away from the door.“He’s going to the back!” one cook calls back without prompting.They’re so confused they don’t know what they’re doing, but the fact that they’re going to help John out when they’re like that—John will think about it later, when he’s not skidding through a clump of dropped dough. He gets down the length of the kitchen before careening off into a counter, rattling a rack of hanging pots. Grabs a large pot lid off the pegs, then pushes himself off and runs into the hallway to the storage rooms.He'd gotten the lid out of blind instinct, just thinking he needed something in his other hand, never mind why he would, but the moment he comes around the corner, a carving knife comes whizzing at his head. John uses the lid to deflect it and ducks down, just glimpsing Rafael with a big butcher’s cleaver in one hand.Then the other man disappears into one of the rooms. It’s the biggest of them, but most of it is filled with floor-to-ceiling shelves that are bolted into place, so they just rattle when Rafael throws his shoulder into them. John’s not sure if Rafael’s trying to tip them over onto him, or is just panicking that much, but either way, all it does is give John a great idea of where Rafael is in the room.“I’m not trying to kill you!” John shouts as he races through the doorway. The room also has a back door, the only storage room that does, and if Rafael makes it there, he’ll only be a few yards from the back gate. “I don’t want to kill you. Damn it, I’m just trying to—you know the revenants are real, you know we can’t just leave them—”“To hell with revenants!” Rafael snarls. “If I was supposed to handle them, I should’ve been sent the tools to do it with. I don’t want any part of this, and rest assured, when I get up and tell people what you’ve been up to—”“Are they going to care? Really? Are they?” John slows down as he goes around the first bank of shelves. They’re empty enough that he can see part of Rafael’s head, but he can’t see the cleaver. “They aren’t even sending supplies anymore. And no official recall orders, and come to think of it, you’d be mutinying if you tried to go back without one. So look, all you have to do is sit up there and eat your damned potatoes, and we’ll just—”“They’re poisoned! I knew they tasted too good! Nothing from this place is any good, I knew it was a lie!” Rafael’s hysterical. He’s just not listening anymore, and in all honesty, John’s starting to think the man might have gone just a little bit insane. “I’m getting out! I’m not going to be part of this suicide mission of yours, I’m going! I’m going and you can’t stop me!”John sees a flash of metal and dodges back behind the shelf. Nothing comes flying out at him, but Rafael’s continuing to edge down the aisle, and in a few more steps, he’ll be at the end and there will be two shelves between him and John. “You can’t go on foot,” John says. “Sure, to hell with revenants when they’re going to kill you if you sleep outside at night on your own. Would you just—”“If you come one more step near me, I’ll take your head and bring it back with me!” Rafael screams. He bangs something against the shelf and glass shatters with that peculiar splat it makes when it’s filled with liquid. “I should’ve done that when I realized you had an Argent in here! I should’ve just killed him and handed your cook’s head to you when you walked in, in those drugged potatoes you’ve been feeding me this whole time!”“For—they’re not drugged!” John snaps, swinging himself around the end of the shelf.At the same time, a sharp thump comes from the back door to the storage room. John comes into Rafael’s aisle just in time to see the man start at the noise, slip on a slick of golden syrup pooling around his feet, and go over backwards. The cleaver whips out of Rafael’s hand, does a couple lazy pinwheels in the air, and then comes straight down on Rafael’s reddened, crazed-eyed, shouting face.The shouting stops. John stops where he is, just a yard away. Whoever’s come in the other door stops for a few seconds.Then they walk over, slow and hesitant, and Chris comes around the corner to look down at Rafael. He’s got rope burns on his wrists but no rope on him anywhere, and at some point he’s gotten hold of one of the guards’ swords.“Did he…did he just fall like that?” Chris says after some staring. He points absently at the streaks at the side of the puddle that Rafael’s feet had made.“Pretty much,” John says. He sighs and puts the pot lid down on a shelf, and then pinches the bridge of his nose. Takes a few deep breaths.“John,” Chris says. “I should—”“Clean this up, I need to find Thomas and then talk to the guards,” John says, turning on his heel.Chris starts to call after him. He pretends he didn’t hear it and keeps walking, and Chris doesn’t try again. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “I just want to leave,” Thomas says when John finds him, seated between two guards near the half-unloaded wagons and holding a cold compress to his forehead. “Whatever just—I don’t want to know. I don’t even want to know. I don’t want to know anything anymore, I don’t want to get involved. I just want out of here.”“Which way are you planning to head?” John asks.Behind him, Jordan stops in the middle of an eye-roll to look incredulously at John. Allison’s not around—probably went off to find her father—and so John has to do his own dirty work, stepping on Jordan’s foot as he goes around to the unloaded supplies and starts picking out this and that.Thomas twists around, looking just as disbelieving. His mouth works a little bit and then he answers John in a rush, as if he thinks the moment he stops talking, John will take it all back. “I don’t care what happens here, and I don’t even want to be in the army anymore. I want to go home. I’m not capital-born like you and the commander and I just—I want to go home and set up a shop like my father and stay there.”“Okay,” John says. He turns and looks Thomas over, the man shivering and biting his lip and trying not to break down into tears, and then he hands Thomas a piece of cheese. “Next caravan that comes through going that way, that’s fine. But I just need you to sign discharge papers and—”“Fine, fine, anything, whatever you want,” Thomas says, clutching the cheese to himself like it’s a baby.John sends him off to his rooms to start packing up, and then gathers around the guards to explain what’s happened and how things will be run going forward. He doesn’t make it elaborate, just says that the commander’s had a fatal accident and he’s in charge now, and he’ll draw up discharge papers for anyone who wants to leave like Thomas. He’s honest with them, telling them he has no idea when they can get the news to the capital and get orders back to finalize his latest promotion, and that the rank’s high enough that anything and everything he does is provisional until he’s confirmed.He also says that he’s planning to stay here and sort out the revenant problem, and that while he doesn’t have a solution yet, he’s not going to wait till he hears from the capital to find one. The men don’t say anything while he’s talking, just shuffle in place some and then start looking at each other. At the end, John says that he’ll be in the map room if any of them want to talk to him. A murmur of assent ripples around the group then, but none of them make to follow him as he turns and walks away.It’s not the most enthusiastic response, but then again, if they’d been cheering or anything like that, he’d wonder whether he and Allison and Jordan have been explaining what revenants are properly. If they’re thinking over everything seriously, and really considering their options, then John figures he’s done about all he can. * “Hey,” Jordan says, knocking on the doorway of the map room. When John looks over, he comes in and sets a plate of food and a filled mug on the edge of the table. “Nice speech.”“Thanks,” John mutters, going back to the map.Jordan watches for about a minute, then clears his throat. “So…they’re all sticking around. They want to keep helping.”John pauses. “Good,” he finally says, letting his shoulders sink in relief.“Allison wants to know when you’re done,” Jordan goes on. He scuffs his foot against the floor. “She wants to talk to you about something.”“She can come up now if she wants,” John says.“Well, sure, but she wants to know you ate something. It’s been a long time since lunch,” Jordan says. He’s trying too hard, and when John looks over again, he grimaces but manfully tries to meet John’s gaze. “Look, whatever happened…you still have to eat, right?”John presses his lips together. He starts to reach for the plate, then takes his hand back and puts it on the map. Then he reaches for it again, but jerks his hand back almost immediately. He’s annoyed as hell and he knows it’s making Jordan curious—answers whether Jordan’s gotten any of the details—and also, he knows he just…is not good enough of an actor to just toss back the food so Jordan will go away.“Did she and Chris talk yet?” John finally asks.“I have no idea.” Jordan considers and rejects several different ways of continuing that before he finally settles on an overly-cooperative smile and a step back into the hall. “Want me to go ask?”He takes John’s shrug as a yes and disappears. John straightens up too late to call the man back and then just…stands there and stares at the food. He’s not even hungry, John thinks, and right then his stomach pinches in on itself and growls and he sighs.So when Chris suddenly appears in the doorway, John’s got a mouthful of roasted beets. John starts, then hurriedly gulps some water as he starts to choke, while Chris freezes like he regrets coming up here.Then the man shakes it off and pushes into the room, with an expression like he’s got a knife to his own throat. “Listen, I was—Allison and I were planning to tell you. About our family, and knowing where these things came from, and…we trust you to really use that to wipe them out, and not to use it for anything else. It’s just…I thought it’d be better to wait till you were settled down into your new position. That was my call, not hers.”John swallows some more water and then puts his mug down. Chris flinches slightly and keeps on the other side of the table, even though his hands are empty and showing above the table-top. He hurried up here from somewhere, probably the kitchen—he’s got a shirt on again, but the sleeves are shoved up to his elbows and the neck’s flapping open nearly to his navel.“And the whole sealing—back then, they fought and fought and they came down to the last group of revenants but they were too tired, had lost too many people to take care of all of them, so what they did was they lured the things into an old salt mine and then collapsed it on them,” Chris goes on after a moment. He’s getting stiffer and stiffer, that easy composure of his flaking away with each word to show the anxiety underneath. “They always meant to go back, but it never happened and…and I think what happened was something must have opened up the mine again and let some of the revenants out, and then they made new ones.”“So we can’t be sure we’ll get all of them till this mine is cleared out,” John says.Chris flinches again, even though he seems relieved that John’s finally speaking. “Yeah,” he says, and he even starts fidgeting, scratching at the scabbed-over burns around his wrists. “Yeah, and I…have never been to this mine, but the directions were passed down in the family, and Allison and I were trying to find someone who could round up enough people for us to go there. It’s rough country even without the revenants—werewolves send their outcasts and youngsters who need to prove themselves over there. So…I’m—”“What the hell were you doing?” John suddenly blurts out. He doesn’t really mean it as harshly as he sounds; he just has been sitting on the question for hours now, trying to figure out how to ask it, and now Chris is standing there and he can’t hold it back any longer.“I’m sorry, I know, it’s been obvious for a while that you could be told, and I wasn’t trying to—to keep it secret just for secrecy’s sake,” Chris immediately says, looking pained. “We want to help peop—”John shakes his head and then drops the calipers he’s been using. “No, not—” he pauses as Chris twitches sharply, even though the sound of the calipers hitting the table is barely audible “—I meant how did he get you? What the hell were you doing up in—”“Oh. Oh.” For a second Chris looks relieved. Then puzzled, and then that plus embarrassed. He rubs one of his wrists back against his belly, leaving a faint pink dot where his scabs are opening up. “Yeah. That…he came down because I was late sending up the gratin this time and I thought…he didn’t act like he recognized me, but I guess he did know about the Argents. He asked me to bring the gratin up and honestly, caught me off-guard. I was still getting free when you showed up. Sorry about that.”“Getting…free,” John says.Chris moves his shoulders slightly back and forth, and it gradually dawns on John that this is what the man looks like when he’s squirming. “Yeah, well, I told you I wouldn’t go after him, so I figured the easiest thing to do would be to just let him get in the whipping and then escape when he got tired. He wasn’t that great at it anyway, terrible swing.”John opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it and lifts one hand, and then shakes his head and just puts that hand against the side of his head.“Look, John, I just want it to be clear, I think what you’re doing is the right thing to do, and I want to help y—” Chris starts.“Okay, come in,” John says.Chris blinks, hesitates, and then takes a step into the room. When John points to a free stool, he slowly shuffles around towards it, but doesn’t sit on it.“Stay put, I’ll be right back.” John gets halfway out of the door as Chris shoots another confused look at him, then stops and turns around. “Actually, eat some of that, would you? It’s getting cold.”The kitchen’s too far, but there’s a closet just a few yards off where the officers keep their stashes and when John checks, it’s got bandages and a bottle of antiseptic wash. He takes those, gets a bucket of water from the washroom, and then comes back to find Chris perched on the stool and leaning over the plate of food like he’s never seen that kind of food before when John would bet the garrison he cooked it all himself.Chris immediately straightens up, and then tries to get off the stool as John puts the bandages, bottle, and bucket down on the table. John pushes him back down by the shoulder, then keeps the hand there as he pulls up the back of Chris’ shirt and confirms that the man doesn’t appear to have dressed those injuries either. None of the welts have split, but they’ve bruised up and the skin stretched across the bruises looks so strained that it could break at the next touch.“What are you doing?” Chris says. He’s pretty calm about the manhandling, just grimacing over his shoulder as John flips his shirt forward over his head.“What do you think?” John mutters, reaching for the antiseptic wash. He douses a wad of gauze with it and then swipes it quickly over the bruising. “Listen, about this mine—great, we actually have a plan instead of this scattershot prevention we’ve been trying to do. And I get why you held that back, and appreciate that you’re trusting me now with that information. I’ll make sure it gets cleared out right this time.”Chris pushes the shirt down off his head and starts to reply, only to hiss and grab at the edge of the table as John swabs at him. He slides off the stool enough to get one foot down, then has to stop because the table’s rocking so much. “You’re…you’re welcome,” he says, still sounding confused.John steps back and looks over the welts, and decides he doesn’t want to bandage over them now. If they do bleed, he will, but they look so raw he’s not sure the bandages themselves wouldn’t rub them open. So he gets more wash on the gauze and then steps around Chris and grabs the nearest wrist to start cleaning it. “And Rafael—”“What are you doing?” Chris asks again, staring as John lifts his arm and starts working on it.“He actually got you when you weren’t looking?” John says.Chris blinks. Tilts his head, and then his eyes narrow slightly behind the wrist John’s now bandaging. “I had a gratin in my hands. It’s a big pan. I had to use both hands.”“Yeah, well, he wasn’t that light-footed,” John mutters. He finishes with that wrist and reaches for the other one, and has to tug some before Chris will let him pull it up to dress it. “And just because I said I didn’t want to get here over his dead bo—well, couldn’t you have just knocked him out? Were you honestly going to wait till he got done taking the skin off your back?”“Wait a minute,” Chris says. “Wait, all right, you said—you made such a big deal about us not coming in and turning this place upside-down, and I was just trying to—you don’t trust me and if I was going to trust you enough to tell you family secrets, I wanted you to feel like you could trust me the same and—”“I just didn’t want to mutiny for the hell of it!” John snaps. “But if other people are getting hurt and I could have stopped—I was exiled out here for getting in the way, couldn’t you figure out anything from that?”Chris is annoyed now and it’s flashing in his eyes, turning their light grey into chips of mica. His brows come down and he stares at John, and then abruptly pulls his half-wrapped wrist from John’s grip.“I’m supposed to read you,” he says, his voice rising with incredulity. “I’m supposed to read you. Are you kidding me?”And then, just as John’s about to get that wrist back, he grabs John’s face between his hands and lurches off the stool into John, and kisses till John slams back against the wall.John’s hands slap against the wall, then swing back around and find a…well, John’s not sure if ‘natural’ is the right word, but the way his fingers shape around Chris’ ass certainly is comfortable, and it’s even useful as Chris continues to press up against him, expertly working a tongue into his mouth. Lets John plant his elbows against the wall and use it for leverage, pushing up on Chris’ buttocks as the man straddles his thigh and then tries to hitch up it, as if he’s honestly going to climb John like the proverbial tree.Something keeps fluttering against John’s neck as they rub up against each other: the unraveling bandage on Chris’ wrist. John reluctantly pries one hand off to bat at it, only to have the strip tangle on his fingers. He yanks without thinking and Chris’ arm comes down, hand slapping at John’s shoulder. Then Chris clutches at it, groaning, as John’s other hand gets worked around by the motion of their bodies and its fingertips begin to wedge up in between Chris’ buttocks.“You asshole, I’ve been sleeping in the same bed as you for a couple months now and you’re—you just—we didn’t leave when we had the chance, didn’t that tell you something?” Chris gasps, peeling his head back.“Kind of, but—look, I know I helped you but I wasn’t doing it for that, this, I mean, you know what I mean,” John says, more than a little breathless himself. “And there are revenants and people desperate enough to think appeasing them’s the best way to go, because the garrison’s been so useless, and I just—I don’t have a lot of time to think about that sort of thing.”Chris stares at him, then suddenly grins. It’s broad and toothy and far more reckless than anything John’s seen on the man to date, and it’s so goddamn attractive that that alone makes John’s cock twitch.“Well, so don’t think about it,” Chris says, just before he plunges back into John’s mouth.At the same time, he hikes himself up so high that John thinks he might only have one foot on the ground. His arm swings around John’s neck for support and John grabs at him again—makes the mistake of touching his back. Chris jerks sharply, hissing into John’s mouth, but when John tries to pull away, see around him to see how bad the damage is, Chris grabs him by the jaw and pushes his head back into the kiss. Then takes that hand and takes it on a purposeful, pressing trip down John’s front, from shoulder to chest to belly and then worming into John’s trousers. Playing with the hairline, not getting down where John suddenly, badly, desperately needs the man’s hand. Just flirting with it, fingertips, and finally John shoves them off the wall and back towards the table.Just in time he remembers Chris’ back again. He pulls them up short and Chris—drops his goddamn trousers. He can hear his belt slapping against the floor. He growls in irritation and Chris chuckles and licks the roof of his mouth, casual as you please, and John grabs handfuls of Chris’ shirt and yanks that up again.Enough to get it over Chris’ head and trap his arms in it, and while he’s fighting to get free, John spins him around by the hips and bends him over the table so that by the time he’s out of the shirt, he’s grabbing onto the edge of the table and moaning as John runs his fingertips as lightly as possible along those welts.“I should just wrap you to the damn bed, you’re gonna be that much of a fool,” John finds himself rambling, as he’s stripping Chris of his trousers. “Take a bunch of bandages and tie you where you aren’t going to pull shit like that, and just—”“Fuck, fuck, sure, fine, just fuck me first, for fucking—” Chris gasps as John palms the man’s buttocks, squeezes them together and humps his erection up against their surprisingly generous give “—fucking wanted to just roll over for weeks now—”John doesn’t have the words for responding to that, so he just—looks for something. He’s not leaving the damn room again, and he’s still himself enough to think spit’s just—this man was going to take a whipping for him, still has the marks from it, and John both hates looking at those and feels so disgustingly, deeply possessive of them, like in some weird way, they’re Chris telling him things—he doesn’t have the thought to work through that either. He just really, incredibly, badly, wants and needs to get himself into the other man.Antiseptic will sting, ink will probably poison Chris even if it wasn’t watery and—butter. They sent a pat of butter up with the bread roll. He’ll take that.“Is that—are you—” Chris groans, even though he’s rolling himself against the table “—really?”“Well, you keep saying you’re my cook,” John grunts. His hands are so hot that the butter half-melts before he even touches Chris, and he’s hurrying to get the man worked open before it drips off his fingers. Chris is tight, and John can’t lean over him, kiss and suck the sweat off the back of that nape the way he wants to, not without putting pressure on Chris’ welts, so for a distraction he reaches around with his free hand and rubs up between Chris’ thighs.Chris moans low and long and shoves himself back onto John’s fingers, so hard that John has to back up to get them back out. John ends up digging his nails into Chris’ leg to get him to hold still. Then into both of the man’s buttocks, holding them spread as he hitches in his cock an inch at a time, watching the sweat run off in rivulets around Chris’ straining shoulder-blades. He leaves a quilt of red half-crescents behind, sensitive enough that when he palms them, Chris rocks so roughly that he makes John stumble, have to grab the table to steady himself.“Your cook, hell, I’d fucking scout for you, hunt for you, if you’d just…couldn’t fucking figure out what you were—were waiting for,” Chris pants. He’s already tired, just holding onto the table now instead of wrenching back against it, but every time John moves in him, his body rolls up into it like he’s being dragged back on a string. His breathing’s deep and hoarse but he makes begging noises if John slows down. “Didn’t know but hell with it, wasn’t—didn’t want—would wait—wait and see—what it was, I just—just wanted to be there—”“Hell if I know either, I was fed up with this place,” John mutters. He’s starting to lose control of himself, hunching over Chris, putting more of his weight on the other man than he should be—he jams down one elbow against the table and just keeps his head off Chris’ bruised back. “Just—I don’t know—Stiles was gone, maybe just—needed a—a—”Chris shudders and it’s the most gorgeous thing John has ever seen, the way need just ripples down the man, bunching up his muscles, drawing his head and ass up, his hands scrabbling against the maps. His head thumps down on one cheek and his slitted eye stares up at John, exhausted but still wanting it, pleading for it, and John remembers to reach around, wrap a buttery hand around Chris’ cock and Chris does the shudder again and John thinks it’s the sight of that that takes him over the edge. Not the way Chris seizes up around him, not the gravelly, obscene noises coming out of the man, but just watching.When John’s knees are steady enough, he pulls out. He doesn’t really want to, and Chris doesn’t want him to either, making protesting noises and hiking up to follow his cock, but his arms aren’t going to hold him up any longer and he really doesn’t want to break open Chris’ welts. At first he subsides to the side, but then, giving up, he just lowers himself to the floor and sits on his puddled trousers and leans his head against the table-leg.A couple minutes later, Chris shuffles off the table and joins John, crawling over on shaky arms. He pauses for a second, then, seeing how John twitches one leg out of the way, grins and pushes all the way in to drop his chin on John’s shoulder. John snorts and moves his arm so he’s cupping Chris’ buttock and Chris rolls his shoulders back into a long, satisfied stretch that firmly seats himself on John’s palm.“This mine, we need to figure out how to shut it down,” John says.Chris nods and his hand absently folds over John’s knee. “Yeah.”“You ever do something like that again and…and…and just don’t, would you?” John says.For a second Chris is still, and it’s not the slack stillness of someone who’s just enjoying himself. “Yeah, well, we’re talking more now, right?” he finally says.John moves his thumb in circles over the curve of Chris’ ass. “Looks like it.”“All right,” Chris says. He shifts his head on John’s shoulder. “So what about the potat—”“I hate potatoes,” John says. Then he sighs. “Okay, I don’t. But I am sick of that damn dish, and I don’t want to even see it, and just…there’s got to be something else you can cook, right? If you’re so great at it?”“Sure,” Chris says, laughing into John’s shoulder. “Sure, I’ll come up with something.” * “Dad, honestly, what really happened?” filters Allison’s voice through the door. “You looked better before he helped you bandage up.”John glares at Jordan, who’s collapsed against the wall in silent hysterics. At least Jordan waited till the Argents had gone into the room, but every time he starts to look up at John, he starts laughing again and drops another couple inches down the wall.“Do you want to do this in the morning?” John finally asks.Shaking his head, Jordan scrabbles at the wall with one hand till he’s mostly standing again. He bats at John with his other hand, then presses it against his chest as he coughs roughly. “No. No, we should—I’m okay. I’m okay. Okay. Sorry, sir.”“Don’t laugh in your commander’s face,” John sighs, just as a giggle threatens to spill out of Jordan’s mouth. He pauses, listening to himself, and then grimaces. “On second thought, never mind that, that just sounds—”“Well, but you are,” Jordan says, suddenly sobering up. He thumps his chest one last time, then straightens up. “Listen, sir, you’re giving orders and people are following them, and that’s a lot more than I could guarantee if somebody fresh from the capital came in right now and ordered us all to retreat back with them. So you’re the commander.” John presses his lips together, then runs his hand over the top of his head. “Thanks,” he finally says. “I mean, that’s good to hear.”“I know it’s awkward if you look back on how it happened, but one, I don’t think anybody here really cares that much, and two, I don’t think anybody not here is ever going to get around to asking,” Jordan goes on, earnest enough that John slowly realizes it’s coming out of fear. He thinks John’s going to back out of the job. “And even if they do, it’s going to be so far into the future, I’m sure we can come up with—”“No, I’m—yeah, you’re right, I’m the commander and I’m taking the responsibility on, I’m not denying that,” John says. He glances past Jordan just to make sure nobody’s coming down the hall, then steps forward and claps the man on the shoulder. “It’s just honestly not what was planning on, or hoping either, so I just—I’m going to have to get used to it, that’s all.”Jordan looks relieved. “Well, sir, I’m here to help. And I think that’s how most people feel. Even the cooks.”“Well, they don’t have to worry about the damn potatoes anymore,” John mutters, rubbing at his eye. It’s starting to burn and at first he assumes he’s got something in it, but then a yawn tries to sneak up on him and he realizes it’s more like he’s been up nearly all night at this point. “I need to tackle them, I know they’ll have heard by now but somebody should tell them straight out what their choices are—”“I can do that. That is, I’m offering to do that, sir, and if you want me to just draw up the next round of shifts and let you look it over tomorrow instead of us talking it out, I’m happy to do that too,” Jordan promptly says. “Also can get on clearing out the old commander’s things and freshening up the rooms for you.” John looks Jordan over. “You can’t be this damn chirpy at this hour,” he says. “And what do you mean, freshen them up?”“Well, I’m a morning person and it’s practically morning,” Jordan shrugs, and then he reaches over and taps the door. “And come on. Even if you don’t want those rooms, you need something bigger. Something that can fit in a double bed, at least.”“You know what, if you’re going to offer, I’ll take you up on that,” John says after a moment. “Congratulations, Jordan, I’m officially promoting you to sergeant. Figure out what the hell Haigh didn’t do and bring a list to breakfast with you.”“Yes, sir!” Jordan says, snapping off a salute.As he goes off, John rolls his eyes and pushes in the door. Jordan might be happy now, but sergeant is a working rank and John’s got every intention of making the man live up to it. In fact, he’s just running down what to start Jordan off on when he realizes the person sitting on the bed isn’t Chris.“Dad’s in there, borrowing my salve,” Allison says. She smiles sunnily up at John. “He’s still listening so I just wanted to say thank you for calling him out, I think he’s an idiot too when he tries to sacrifice himself like that, and I hope you keep calling him out on that or else you and I are going to talk. Well, I’m going to bed, so let me know when you’re all discussing how to clear out the mine!”And she hops off the bed just as a flustered Chris bangs out of the other room. He’s so abrupt about it that he stumbles and grabs at the door to right himself, and as he’s doing that, Allison slips past him into her room. Chris half-twists after her, pauses as she calls back something about changing for bed, and then makes a face and backs out. He shuts the door, makes another face at it, and then turns to look at John.“That went better than I figured,” John says, and then he has to make a face at himself. “Well, if I’d stopped to think about it, which I honestly haven’t really had the time to.”“I’ll…if she…I think we’ll talk about it later,” Chris says. He looks slightly less red-faced, but when he crosses the room, he’s clearly still rattled. “I’ll talk to her. I’ll…”“You do look kind of messed-up,” John says, glancing over Chris. He lifts one hand and flicks open the front of Chris’ shirt, and then runs his fingers along a faint pink splotch under Chris’ collarbone.It’s not quite raw enough to count as a scrape, but Chris twitches and then snaps his hand around John’s wrist. He meets John’s eyes for a second, composed now. Then looks down at himself. “Yeah, I guess,” he says. “Didn’t think about that. Maybe we should put a blanket down next time.”“Maybe we should just use a—fuck, I’m going to have to let Jordan move me,” John mutters, glancing at the bed. “Yeah, okay, this is too small now.”When he looks up, Chris is grinning, and a lot closer. And still holding his wrist, though the other man quickly drops that in favor of untucking John’s shirt and sliding his hands up under it. “Think I should get a bunk with the other cooks?” he says. “Don’t want me to get any more roughed up, then—”“Why don’t you just get on top?” John snorts, just before pulling him in. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- So John’s now leading the garrison, and they’re no longer following orders from the capital, which means that technically, they’re revolting. Or they would be if anybody even remembered they were out there, and that seems unlikely. Anyway, John figures he can finally turn all of his attention to the revenant problem, and then his son suddenly reappears.With werewolves. Werewolves who know Chris and Allison enough to result in stilted yet deeply meaningful conversation, and at least two of whom are following Stiles around everywhere in a way that strongly reminds John of baby ducklings. Or would, if John wasn’t trying to avoid all farm metaphors now that his son is apparently a skilled wizard with the ability to make people out of sheep.“Sheeple, Dad, sheeple,” Stiles corrects him in an exasperated tone. “Also, I told you, it was an accident.”“And we are happy,” says his newly-peopled friend Scott, who apparently leads the sheep. He’s starting to look distressed; he’s got a pretty good command of human language for somebody who only began speaking a month ago but he’s a bit shakier when it comes to understanding human relationships. He seems to think any time somebody disagrees, it’s a major issue. “We like Stiles. We like being sheeple.”“No, no, that’s…I’m not saying he should reverse it or anything, I’m just…okay, look, I wanted to talk about how to get to this mine,” John sighs, dropping his hand back to the map spread over the table. “Chris and Allison have been going over the maps we’ve got here, trying to match it up with the directions that their family has handed down…”He glances over, only to find Allison and the older of the two werewolves trailing after Stiles, Peter, having a staring contest. Talia, the pack leader, seems more amused than threatened by it, but she also seems to be timing her smirks and sighs so they make Chris twitch, so John’s not particularly convinced.“I think we have it narrowed down,” Chris says a beat late, pushing himself up in his seat. He flicks a glance towards John, who’s learned enough of the man’s expressions to take it as an apology for getting distracted. Then he leans over and circles his finger around a section of the neighboring pass. “But that still translates to a couple miles of mountainside to search.”“And that’ll take forever if we have to go cave-by-cave. I mean, I tried when I was over there, but even with remote beacons and that sort of thing, it was taking too long for me to try and search them thoroughly, and I think some of them are connected so you’d have to find all the entrances and block them just to make sure,” Stiles jumps in. He tips his chair onto the back two legs, waving his hands in the air like he does when he’s calculating something, and then makes a face and lets the chair drop when he sees how John is looking at him. “So, um, rough estimate, I’d say at least a hundred caves.”John grimaces. “Even with all of us, that would take too long. That guardhouse is three days from here—”“We could cover it in two, if we went ahead,” Chris offers.“Well, any werewolf in decent shape could do it in one,” Talia says. She smiles at Chris, who gives her a stiff, blank expression back.“Sure, but correct me if I’m wrong, because it’s been a while since I worked with a werewolf, but I thought you can’t carry that much when you’re shifted, and Stiles was saying all the game’s gone,” John says dryly. “What were you planning to eat once you got there?”Talia blinks. A chastened look briefly flashes over her face, but it doesn’t have time to settle in before Stiles jerks up and stabs an accusing finger at John.“Wait, wait, wait, what do you mean, worked with a werewolf?” Stiles says. “What does—do you—did you—so you know werewolves?”“I knew a werewolf. It was back before you were born, he worked in the guard,” John says, resisting the urge to feel guilty, as his son clearly thinks he should. “Why does that—”“And you never told me?” Stiles yelps, flailing his hands around. Off to the side, Peter and the other werewolf tagalong, Derek, look smug enough that John has a pretty good guess what’s bugging his kid. “Dad! But—but we had these werewolf books! I read them! I believed them! And they were all wrong!”John also resists the urge to roll his eyes, because sure, his son’s making a scene, but damn it, it’s his son, and no matter how much Stiles drives him up the wall, John’s not going to let other people think John’s embarrassed by him. Even when John is. “I never looked through them myself, I just asked Lawrence—”“Talbot?” Talia says, and when John nods, her brows rise slightly; she’s impressed.“Anyway, that’s not going to be a problem now, is it?” John sighs. “Given the present company?”“Well, I don’t know, given the present company, are we going to be truthful and accurate about werewolves?” Peter mutters, while shooting a challenging look at Allison.“My father and I haven’t concerned ourselves with werewolves for several years now,” Allison bites back, with just as much of a dare in her eyes. Chris tries to nudge her and she shakes him off, leaning forward over the table towards Peter. “But if you’re going to insist—”“We’re not,” Chris says sharply. It’s Allison’s turn to nudge him, but he ignores her wounded look. When she frowns and slouches back, the muscle of his cheek tenses but he keeps on looking at Talia. And then, once Talia’s inclined her head in the slightest nod, he glances towards Derek. “We’re not in that anymore. We were out of it before we even heard.”“Heard about what?” Stiles asks, at the same time that Derek suddenly gets up.Talia and Peter don’t seem surprised, though they’re varying degrees of upset by it—Peter makes a half-hearted attempt to grab at Derek’s wrist, and looks just as wounded as Allison when Derek jerks his hand away. Stiles glances around in confusion, then starts to get up as Derek flushes and hunches his shoulders and generally looks as if he wishes he’d slid under the table instead.“Um, so…yeah, I don’t think it’s a good idea to head out there without plenty of food,” Stiles says after a second, sitting back down but still watching Derek. He fidgets in place, groping his way through the change of subject, and then visibly sags in relief when Derek reluctantly drops back, muttering about just working out a cramp. “I mean, even for the sheep, it was pretty tough. There are so many revenants and they tear up the ground so it was hard to even get grazing near the end.”Scott makes a weird noise while looking sympathetically at Stiles. It’s kind of a cross between a burble and a whistle, and when he leans over and starts rubbing his cheek against Stiles’ shoulder, John suddenly realizes the man’s trying to nicker with human vocal cords.“Oh, um…um, thanks, but you’re human right now,” Stiles hisses at Scott, quickly wrapping his arm around the other man and turning it into a brotherly hug. Then he looks up and gives everybody an overly broad smile.“Finding the—” John starts to remind them.Scott blushes and then abruptly drops off the stool. A second later, there’s a loud ‘baa!’ and Stiles, who’d dove after him, comes back up and tells everybody it’s all fine, Scott just feels more comfortable as a ram right now. And then stops in the middle of that, frowning at Peter, who’s promptly slipped around to steal Scott’s seat; Peter smiles at him and gives Stiles’ stool an encouraging pat, clearly trying to get him back on it, while on the other side Derek looks even more like he wishes he was under the table.“Is he hungry or anything?” Allison asks. When Stiles looks over, she hesitates unusually long before going on, and when she finally does, she’s pointedly pretending she doesn’t see the odd look Chris is giving her. “Are sheeple like other shifters where they lose control when they’re stressed? I could go get him some hay.”“Uh. Well, yeah, that’s a…factor,” Stiles mutters, swaying erratically, like something might be frantically nudging his legs. “One of them. But I just think—”“The mine?” Jordan says loudly, and when everybody looks at him, he makes a dramatic gesture towards John.“I realize we have a lot to talk about, but before we all break for the day, I just want to know whether we can work together,” John says. Then he realizes what he’d said and he has to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from grimacing. He’d meant to say ‘how long’ they had to work together.Stiles blinks hard, then narrows his eyes. “Well, I’m in,” he says just as loudly as Jordan, in that strident tone he uses whenever he’s telling off an authority figure before John can do it. “I said I was going back there and finishing what I started, and even if we have to go through every cave and it takes years, the sheeple and me are in. Right, Scott?”“Baa!” drifts up from the floor.“We’re Commander Stilinski’s household staff,” Allison says. She checks with her father, who just raises his brows, and that’s obviously a good reaction to Allison, since the smile she turns on John is faintly triumphant. “We’re going to support him in whatever he’s doing.”Peter snorts at her, but he’s looking a little less hostile than before. He almost says something, then stops himself, looking first at Stiles—who hasn’t noticed, since he’s still staring at John—and then at Talia, who seems both surprised and bemused that Peter’s checking with her. She reaches around and puts her hand on Derek’s shoulder; Derek’s been waiting on Peter the whole time. Then she takes it off and draws herself up and looks John in the eye.“Well, I do claim the lands that this cave is on, so you’d need my permission to cross into them anyway. I understand the capital thinks differently—” Talia starts.Interestingly, Peter gives her a sharp look, though John’s not clear on whether that’s because he disagrees or because he simply doesn’t think she should be confronting John like this. Stiles disagrees too, but he’s apparently heard a variation on this since he just sighs and stoops to one side to rub at the sheep head poking up over the table’s edge. “I’m unofficially not paying attention to what they say,” John says. Talia arches her brow and he sighs and spreads his hands and wills her to just give him this one. “They ever get around to sending somebody to ask, I’ll tell them the same and make it official, but I don’t see the rush in letting them know. But the revenants on the other hand—”“No, no, I agree with you there,” Talia says, smiling as Peter and Derek both huff in relief, with varying degrees of annoyance at her. “On both counts. Your son’s done quite a thorough job of educating us as to the revenant problem, and even if I didn’t owe him a few favors for Peter and Derek, I recognize how serious it is. And we’ll welcome any assistance in rooting them out—it’s just once they’re gone…”“Well, look, I’m not a king, I don’t rule over the people who live around there,” John says. He holds her gaze for long enough to be sure she understands he’s not just speaking about any werewolves who are left. “The only goal I have is to make sure everybody’s as safe as we can make them. So can we agree on that for now?”Talia considers it for a couple minutes in silence. Her family gets a little edgy, while Stiles has a whispered conversation with Scott and then sighs and just hefts the ram up in his arms, turning back and forth at the waist—he’s helping Scott see all of them, John suddenly realizes, and has to cough to hide the laugh. But Talia just looks as relaxed in thought as she does when she’s staring people down.“Yes, we can,” she finally says. She glances at the map and then back at her family. “I also agree we need a plan quickly, but right now, perhaps we should each consult with our people about what we might bring to a cave search, then regroup. I think we’re tired—I am, at least—and we’re not really thinking best how to play to our respective strengths.”“Well, that’s fair,” John says. “Plan to meet again tomorrow?”“That would be fine with me,” Talia says.When she gets up, she takes Peter and Derek with her, but John overhears Derek hissing to Stiles that they’ll be right back, while Peter mutters an apology for his sister’s officiousness. Stiles blinks at the first and just responds with a confused shrug at the second, telling them sure, he’ll meet them in the stables where the sheeple are bedding down.“By the way, I got around and told everybody that the sheep are his and if even one scratch gets on them, we’re going to feed the person responsible to the werewolves,” Jordan casually tells John, looking on.“And that’s going to make them feel what about werewolves?” John says.Jordan thinks he did a good job, and he is clearly not going to let John dampen that opinion of himself. “Well, considering more than a couple of us have had werewolves marry into the family tree at some point, I think it might lead to some awkward family reunions, but those tend to be tricky anyway.”John looks sharply at the other man. “This wouldn’t happen to be why you all disliked Rafael and Haigh and Thomas.”“Besides them being assholes who treated us like we were lower than dirt, just because we’ve never been to this capital who probably doesn’t even remember we’re here?” Jordan snorts. And then he looks a little embarrassed. “Okay, if we’re being honest…a lot of us also figured you were probably…you had a little something. You’re just way too laidback about weird things.”“A little something?” John says. He’s only half paying attention because he’s signaling Chris, who had been making for the hall, to stay back. Chris pauses and then looks at Allison; John leaves it up to him to make that call, and Chris ultimately waves at her to go. She frowns but does so, and then catches up with Stiles to ask after Scott, who appears to be burying his head in Stiles’ shoulder.“Shifter seemed unlikely, but we were thinking witch blood, demonborn, maybe even satyr or dryad blood, seeing how you never minded getting sent out into the woods.” Jordan tilts his head. “I’m not really sure how sorcerous son with a gang of intelligent sheep shakes out the betting pool, but it does explain a lot.”“I hear people talking shit about me,” Stiles says, marching back up the hallway without Allison, but with Scott still in his arms. At some point he’s gained another sheep, who trots at his heels and peers curiously up at Jordan when he stops. “Sheeple, Parrish. Don’t make me sic them on you. You know I could do it, I know all about those roasts your family does on the harvest moon.”Scott baas in protest and Stiles immediately looks guilty for saying it. The other sheep, oddly, just keeps staring up at Jordan.“Okay, okay, enough. They’re sheeple, and we have other things I want to talk about,” John says, glaring at Jordan till he swallows whatever smart comeback he had. “Jordan, can you go see that the Hales are all set in their rooms? Stiles, Chris, I’d like a talk, so let’s head back to my room.”“All right, all right,” Jordan says. He takes a few steps back, bobbing out of Chris’ way, and then salutes Scott instead of John. “Till next time, sheeple.”“You knew making him a sergeant was just going to make him into me but taller, right?” Stiles says. “Also, I’m cuter. Just saying.”“Son, just.” John presses his hand over his face. “Room. Now.”“Yes, sir,” Stiles says, and when John looks up, his kid is holding Scott to attention as well as himself.Well, John’s got his son back, all right. * “I’m glad you took the chance to upgrade, Dad,” Stiles says, wandering into John’s current quarters. He spins slowly around, taking in everything, and then lets out an impressed whistle. “Not to mention found out what that asshole commander really was hoarding up here.”He’s lost the second sheep, but Scott is still trailing after him, looking just as curious. Scott’s shifted human, but he moves like his clothes are draped over him, rather than being worn by him, and when he wants to investigate something, sometimes he seems to forget that his hands have fingers that spread apart—he pokes at things with them pulled tightly together, as if they were still hooves.John really wanted to limit this to just his son, Chris, and at most, Allison, but before he can say anything, Chris pulls out seats for everyone including Scott. And doesn’t really meet John’s eyes when John tries to get his attention, and that’s on purpose, but…it’s probably Chris’ decision, no matter how much John would like to simplify away the obvious social undercurrents.“Okay,” John sighs. “What happened with you and them?”Stiles twists around, blinking hard, as if he thought they were going to talk about something completely different. Then he scrambles to take his seat, while Scott awkwardly drops into the chair next to him.“It…was my sister, actually, and if I’d known I wouldn’t have—but it was still our family, I won’t deny that,” Chris says. He does look John in the eye now, but he’s got one hand wrapped over the other in his lap, and the top hand is white-knuckled. “What I was told after it happened was she seduced Derek and attempted to trick him into letting her kill the rest of his family.”“Oh…oh, you’re that—” And then Stiles pauses, having gone from stunned recognition to anger to blank incredulity in the same second, and sometimes John wonders how his son does that without pulling any facial muscles. Stiles tilts his head. “Really? That was your sister? You’re not sure…she was adopted, or something like that?”Chris clearly doesn’t know whether he needs to defend himself or not. “She was a full blood relation, and raised as an Argent. We used to specialize in werewolves,” he finally says, looking warily back and forth between Stiles and John. “I was the one who left the family, my wife and I did, a little after Allison’s birth.”“Okay.” Stiles sits back on his hands and rocks against them, head bobbing slightly as he thinks that over. Then he draws a breath as if to comment, only to suddenly twist around towards John. “You two are doing it, right?”“What?” John says, while Chris’ eyes widen and a flush comes and goes in his face.“Dad. Um. Sure, he cooks for you and also, validates your alibis,” Stiles scoffs. “Also, I’m now friends with people with enhanced senses of smell.”John makes a face at Stiles and is about to point out a few things about Stiles’ so-called friends when he glimpses Chris’ face. Chris has gone rigid again, the way somebody does when bracing for bad news, and he’s clearly expecting John to deny it and John just…wishes his son would phrase things differently but he’s not that kind of person. “We’re sharing a bed, yeah,” he says to Stiles. “You?”“Um, what, you mean…Peter and Derek?” Stiles says, going from knowing to slightly worried. He scratches at the side of his head, then straightens up when Scott—using exaggerated care—reaches out and bumps his shoulder with one hand. “Well, so…yeah, they…show up in my bed…from time to time. Okay, a lot of the time. Okay, so we haven’t really talked about it so I don’t want to slap a label on it and overcommit them without their say but they gave up eating all sheep meat and not only that, talked Talia into making it a pack rule and sure, they have lots of other choices around here but I feel like we should recognize the magnitude of the—”“Son, I don’t actually need the details,” John sighs. “They’re good to you, right?”Stiles looks a little offended that John even has to ask. “Dad, trust me, if anybody was going to complain about stuff like that, it’d be…um. Anyway, no, we’re cool. We’re good. If we weren’t, I’m pretty sure Scott here would do something.”Scott nods earnestly.“Good,” John says. He steps back and knocks into the stool Chris got out for him, which he hasn’t even used. He swallows a curse and rights it, and starts to tell the rest that they can go back out and then sees Chris, who’s stretched out to grab the stool himself, and that jogs his memory. And then he swallows another curse, silently telling himself he needs to not drop things like that, no matter how stretched thin he is. “All right, so Chris, that—that explains a lot. But—well, Talia was still talking to you—”“Yeah, I know, I’m—sorry, I should have told you earlier,” Chris mutters. He presses his lips together and stares at his hands for a second, then looks up. “I’ll talk to her, but I think I can work out something. Talia prefers to be direct, so if she didn’t want anything to do with me, or want her pack to have anything to do with me, she would have let us all know by now.”“I could try and talk to Derek too,” Stiles says. “I mean, I can’t…I’m not going to talk him into being nice to you, but I could find out what makes him uncomfortable. Like maybe you and Allison just promise not to be in the same room as him.”Chris looks too startled by the offer to respond, so John does. “That’s a good thought, Stiles, but I’m not sure that helps. This is really between Chris and them, and while I have an interest in keeping it peaceful around here, I don’t want either of us to look like we’re pressing them just because of—of—”“Personal stuff? No, I get it.” Stiles is a little reluctant about it, he always hates having to step back when he thinks he could do something, but he’s quicker to agree than usual. More importantly, John still believes he’s being sincere.He hasn’t gotten a lot of time with Stiles since his son arrived with the Hales, but he can already tell Stiles has changed, and not just with who’s keeping him company at night. His son’s a little more thoughtful, a little more open to other people’s reactions. And for that matter, he’s much more open to having other people around; the Stiles who’d left had done it as much because he usually thought it was better to be on his own rather than have to accommodate someone else. But now Scott’s tagging along after him and he’s talking about giving Derek and Peter a say and asking if he can help out Chris.“I think it’d be better for Talia and me to work it out with each other,” Chris says, bringing the conversation back to him. He attempts a smile at them, maybe to thank them, but it comes off more stiff and nervous than anything. “Look, honestly, Allison’s not—she’s going to—I’ll speak to her but this isn’t her either, it’s really my and Talia’s generation, as far as families like ours work.”“Yeah, well, but Derek’s the whole center of this, right?” Stiles says. He’s a little sharp, and when that makes Chris wince, his brows rise. He didn’t think it’d be taken that seriously but he also doesn’t really regret it. That’s how John reads his expression, anyway. “Okay, look…okay. Just…I think I am going to just tell Derek and Peter you two are talking. I don’t think it’s fair that we all know and they don’t.”“Yeah, sure,” Chris says, shrugging. Then he winces again and glances at John.Who’s not clear on why, since it’s not like John really has any grounds to be forbidding anybody from talking about this even if he thought it was a good idea. Well, all right—John’s the garrison commander, he could make up something based on preventing any disputes while they’re all in the fort, but that’s the kind of head-in-the-sand nonsense that…kind of got the last commander killed. Kind of.John…is going to stop thinking about that. “I don’t think I’ve got anybody else to tell. I guess just let us know how it goes. And if you need a private room for the talking, tell Jordan, he’ll keep everybody away from around there.”Chris nods and gets up, and when John frowns, he gestures towards the door. “Better now than later, especially if we want to get a jump on planning for the cave,” he says, with a slight questioning lilt at the end.That’s true enough and John steps out of the man’s way. Though he does briefly put his hand on Chris’ shoulder as Chris passes him, and Chris slows his step for it.“Oh, hey, sorry, but could you walk Scott back to the rest of the flock while you’re at it?” Stiles suddenly asks. When Chris looks over, he pulls an apologetic face and then helps Scott move the stool aside so Scott can shift. Then bends over and picks up a stray shoe that didn’t shift with Scott; John’s not clear on all the details, but apparently, learning to shift the clothes along with you is a tricky skill to pick up. “Dad and I gotta go over one more thing, and I don’t want to make Scott late for feeding time.”Chris and Scott look at each other. Then Scott clops up next to Chris. He pauses and looks up again, and then baas inquisitively. A bemused expression flicks over Chris’ face and he shrugs and continues out the door.“Well, there, so long as Scott’s with him, nobody’s gonna attack him no matter how mad they get,” Stiles says, dusting his hands off on his hips, as soon as the door closes. Then he turns around, sees John’s expression, and rolls his eyes. “Dad, listen, I agree with you completely on not butting in and trying to force a resolution, but come on. I don’t want Derek and Peter to get blindsided, so I’m pretty sure you want Chris there to come back in one conveniently bed-sharable piece.”“I did not miss how you describe things,” John says after a moment.Stiles makes an outraged noise and John grins at him and walks across the room and then gets an arm around the kid, hugging him till he stops making that noise. A second later, Stiles sighs, and then he reaches around and pats at John’s back.“I did not miss how you pretend like you don’t really feel it when you don’t get to have the good things and that’s not totally a huge deal,” Stiles mumbles. He gives John a last pat, then suddenly squirms free and runs over to the window. From the way he rushes there, John’s expecting him to fling open the shutters, but he just cracks them, whispers something, and then shuts them and turns back around. “Okay, there, that’s Derek and Peter taken care of, so let’s talk about—”“They were eavesdropping?” John says.“Dad, you apparently worked with a werewolf enough to keep around fake werewolf books for a laugh. Of course they were,” Stiles snorts. He grabs a stool and plops himself back onto it, and then rests his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands. “So, real story. We’re alone now—I gotta do your room over properly, but I put on enough stuff I’m sure we’re eavesdrop-proof for this talk.”John looks at his son, then at the window. Thinks about crossing over and just peeking out, and then pushes it aside and takes a stool himself. “So, you’re some kind of sorcerer now.”“But I’m not a bad one. I mean, I made sheeple. That’s not really the kind of thing you do if you’re interested in world domination, is it?” Stiles protests. He keeps it up for a couple more seconds and then crumples a little bit, his hands fidgeting around the edge of the stool they’re gripping. “Okay, so look, I was…was mad about what they did to you. It really wasn’t fair, Dad. All you were doing was trying to make sure people stopped getting hurt.”“Yeah, I know,” John sighs as he sits next to Stiles. “Well, it’s water under the bridge now, but I’m just glad you didn’t get hurt. And—nobody else has, have they?”Stiles blinks a few times, then starts in place. “What? No, no…not really. I mean, Dad, I’m not—I’m really not trying to hide anything here, I’m just…so to your question, no, not as far as I know. The sheeple like being sheeple, and Derek and Peter…maybe got a little more roughed up than necessary, even if they wanted to eat my sheep peeps—”John opens his mouth.“—but they didn’t know they were sheeple at that point, they just thought they were plain sheep and we got all of that straightened out anyway. Derek even uses Scott as a pillow when we’re on the road,” Stiles explains with a hasty but dismissive hand-wave. Then he settles back and his expression slowly shifts to surprised with a side of wariness. “I guess I’m just…is that going to be it? About me and magic?”“What, did you want me to yell at you some for getting in over your head and playing with stuff that people warn again for good reasons?” John says. He snorts a little at Stiles’ dismayed expression, then leans over to put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Look, I probably won’t approve of everything you did while you were gone, but you came back in one piece and you’re still my kid. You screw up sometimes but I do think at the end of the day, you always do the right thing.”Stiles looks suspicious for a moment longer, and then that suddenly melts away as he gives John a relieved smile. “Thanks, Dad. I…when I was out, I really—and I was kind of worried that when I came—anyway, I’m glad I’m back.”“Good,” John says, smiling back.“Yep,” Stiles says, just before his smile goes a little cocky. “So, speaking of, what did you do? And listen, Dad, I am totally for you even without the details, and I’m gonna be for you after the details, but I just really, really, absolutely gotta have those details before I die. Really.”“Before you die,” John says, lifting his brow. “Seems like that’s a while yet.”Stiles isn’t having it. “Dad,” he moans, twisting on his seat. “Don’t make me call in the flock. They will stare you down, they even bully Peter around. C’mon. It’s just you and me, I promise.”“Yeah, no, you should…you should know.” John presses his lips together, then sighs. “And you’re going to be the only one who knows the whole story, too.”“Really? Even with Chris—”“Chris can come up with a good story without actually being around,” John says. He sounds more disapproving than he really is—than he should be, if he doesn’t want to be a hypocrite. “I’m not saying that he’s…anyway, he didn’t always see what happened.”Stiles shrugs and leans forward. “And that was…?”“Well…you remember the commander was obsessed with that one potato dish,” John says after a moment. When Stiles nods, John’s tempted to just leave it at that, and stick to the short, bare explanations Chris had offered for all the deaths in the chain of command, but—this is his son. And no matter what it makes Stiles think of him, John owes him the truth.So John goes through all of it. He starts with the load of rotten potatoes and goes through Lahey’s death, then Haigh’s, and he includes the threats both made against the Argents. When he explains about his revenant encounter and the rumors that villages are trying to harness the revenants for themselves, Stiles interrupts with a few questions. But they’re uncharacteristically simple and Stiles doesn’t do his usual lengthy follow-up interrogation, and instead looks expectantly for the rest of John’s story.“He did what?” Stiles says when John gets to Rafael. Then he rocks back on his seat. He starts to laugh, hastily stops himself and pulls an ashamed face, and then, upon looking more closely at John, he starts to snicker again. “Okay, I am the most knowledgeable one about the risks of mocking the dead in this garrison, probably, but…Dad, that was an earned death if I’ve ever heard of one. And besides, he was trying to whip Chris, seriously?”“I don’t think that was because of Chris’ family so much as me,” John says, though he allows himself a brief smile because Rafael knifed himself and yeah, that’d been a pretty fitting end. “He said that, but I’m pretty sure he had some paranoid ideas about me plotting with revenants behind his back, and thinking Chris was wrapped up in that.”Stiles is outright unrepentant now. “Funny how everyone was thinking you were working against them and you weren’t but they just tricked themselves into having it all come back on them anyway. Man, Dad, if you can do that, you don’t even need magic.”“I wasn’t trying,” John says.“Dad.” Then Stiles pauses. When he starts again, he’s softer and a little worried. “Hey, Dad, I know you weren’t. I know you. Even when people are assholes to you and don’t remotely deserve it, you still try to do right by them. You’re a good guy. I mean, I’m your son, if anybody could tell whether you’re going full villain, it’d be me, and you’re definitely not.”John stares at his son. Then he starts to smile, but halfway through his eyes sting a little and he ends up grimacing instead, trying to hide that. He puts his hand up and gives his face a quick rub, and then reaches out just as Stiles, looking concerned, hops off his stool.“Hey,” John says, catching Stiles by the arm. Stiles stops and waits for him, still looking worried. “Hey…thanks.”“You’re welcome, Dad,” Stiles says a little uncertainly. For all his newfound maturity, he’s still very much a young man, barely out of boyhood, with how he doesn’t quite believe his luck. Although…it’s only a second later when he grins and gives John’s shoulder a playful punch. “So I’m forgiven for the whole sheeple thing?”“That’s between you and them,” John mutters, getting up. “That said, if you could not do that to pigs, me and the guards would appreciate it. Chris cures a nice slab bacon and I’d like to at least have a decent breakfast if I have to run things around here.”“Sure, right, I bet he cures you a good, juicy strip every morning,” Stiles mutters back.John looks at him. He blinks hard and wiggles the smirk off his face, hastily getting out of John’s way, and then yelps and smacks John when John gives his hair a rough tousle.“No, son, you’re a grown man now, I think you can decide what and who you want to be responsible for,” John says, ushering Stiles out the door. “The sheeple and the werewolves are all yours.”“Dad, it’s not like I can’t totally see what you’re doing there,” Stiles complains.“Yeah, well, I’m running this place,” John says, smiling, and gives Stiles another tousle. “Now go make sure nobody’s eating anybody they’re not supposed to, would you? I have a garrison to run.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- John is committed to his job, and so even though Chris comes back in one piece—still trailing a polite ram escort who’s somehow managing to have a conversation with Allison—and says he and Talia worked something out, John takes it upon himself to locate the Hale alpha later on and confirm that. Which means that he walks in on his son sticking a hand down the front of Derek’s trousers, and then, when Stiles desperately tries to scuttle out of the room, ends up seeing a wolf he’s fairly sure is Peter slink halfway out a window before Stiles’ shirt, which is wrapped around his hindleg, catches him up.“I am sorry,” Talia tells him, with genuine feeling behind it, over the barking and scrambling and banging shutter. “My family is not normally this embarrassing.”“Neither is mine,” John mumbles into his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose. He waits till the noises stop and then peeks through his fingers, and only when he’s sure his son has departed does he take down his hand.With the supplies the Hales brought in with them, John would’ve been more than happy to move his people around and put the pack up in the officers’ wing. The garrison force is so shrunken in size that there are more than enough rooms for them all. But Talia had requested something near the stables where their wagons would be kept, and upon seeing the stables themselves—which also have plenty of empty stalls—had announced she and her pack would be quite content with just a few modifications to those.Said stables are just a hop and skip away from where Stiles’ sheeple are bedding down, but John doesn’t think the whole pack would settle for subpar lodgings just to make life easier for Derek and Peter. And he guesses he’s right, since the wolf ambling by with a sheep at its side, the wolf with a wineskin slung over its back, the sheep with a bag of what smells like fresh-baked sticky buns, isn’t either of them.“Out, out,” Talia says, shooing the wolf and the sheep along. She narrows her eyes and curls her upper lip a little at the wolf, who’d slowed and looked over, and the pair move on with obvious reluctance. Talia sighs and shakes her head. “Can’t even blame the sheeple for leading my daughters astray either…you try and try to raise decent-minded children and they just…well, anyway, I assume you’re here to check I won’t have the Argents killed in the middle of the night?”“Well, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t,” John says. Then he takes a deep breath and tries to ease himself out of the hard stance he’d started to fall into. “I understand by your vendetta custom—and look, if it’d happened to me and Stiles, I’d—”“Ah, so he did fill you in,” Talia interrupts. She considers John for a few seconds. She’s unusually tall for a woman in this area, but other than that she doesn’t immediately look menacing, with soft curves and delicate hands. What she does have, however, is an instant presence, even when she’s attempting to be friendly. Standing across from her gives John the feeling of standing across from a bonfire—warm, but if not watched, it could jump the firepit and lay waste to everything around it.“By his customs, he has some reason to consider it a feud as well,” Talia eventually goes on. She’s interested but not surprised when John starts. “We dealt with his sister, and when the rest of his family came after us for it, we dealt with them too. But we’ve agreed to let things cancel out, as it were. My son is quite happy at the moment and I don’t see any reason to ruin that for him. I suspect Chris has similar considerations on his mind.”John nods slowly. “Thanks. I just—I have a conflict of interest here, I know that, but I do my best to be as fair-minded as I can, so I wanted to make sure I heard you out, too.”“I recognize that, and appreciate it very much,” Talia says. She pauses and looks John over again, and then offers him a warm but not particularly intimate smile. “Of course, I do have my own conflict as well. I have a claim to nearby lands, which is just as well-founded as any claim the capital might make to it, if not more so, seeing as I plan to be an active administrator. So I—”“Look, like I said, if they start giving a damn about this side of the mountains again, I—well, I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon,” John says. Then he sighs, because yeah, he’s got to think about it anyway. “But if they do…from where I’m standing, they’ll have to start from scratch. Right now, as far as I’m concerned, they’ve forfeited their claims, and we don’t have any responsibility except to look after ourselves.”“Well, I see,” Talia says, in a surprised tone that’s also a little too pleased for John’s comfort. She smiles at John again, much more conspiratorially. “We should talk about this once the revenants are under control. Werewolves never officially agreed to the capital’s rule, and they never did tame us. I suspect you’ll be interested in the reasons why.”“Yeah. Yeah, I would, but one thing at a time,” John says. “Revenants first?”“Revenants first,” Talia agrees. * The second meeting to discuss how to find the cave goes a lot better, and credit to Stiles, it’s mostly because he apparently skipped sleeping in favor of interviewing everybody for everything they know about it. “Okay, so I took the area Chris marked off and cross-referenced it with all the old werewolf stories about the pass, and also, some of the soldiers had some old wives’ tales too, and—” Stiles pauses to yawn into his arm, while an assortment of haggard-looking werewolves nod off into the sheep patiently propping them up “—good news is, we can probably narrow it down more to a stretch that should only take a week or so to check out. Bad news is—”“A week with how many people?” John says. “These things are hard to track, unless you—”When he looks over at Talia, even she’s struggling to stay awake. She starts up, blinking rapidly, but Stiles is already jumping in. “Well, yeah, that’s a problem, they don’t even have a smell or a heartbeat, so the werewolves can’t really suss them out. And my alarm system was movement-based so if they’re not moving—”“Like they would be if they’re encased in salt,” Jordan points out. Then he frowns and twists around, looking at something on the…a sheep’s just passing behind his chair. It doesn’t seem to be doing anything else, so John’s not entirely sure why Jordan looks so suspicious, but he makes a note to follow up on it with the other man.“Yeah, so we kind of will have to take a bunch of people,” Stiles says. He’s obviously a little miffed to have some of his explanatory thunder stolen. “On the other hand…don’t we have to anyway? I mean, when we find them, we’re going to immediately destroy them, right? And I don’t know about you, but I personally would want as much back-up as possible for that.”Jordan shrugs and looks at John. “We’re close to skeleton staffing here already, but all the traffic is one-way and fair season’s almost over, so even that’ll stop in a week or two. I guess theoretically it’s a bad idea to leave the garrison unguarded, but given our choices…”“Yeah. Yeah, I know, but say we need to get back here in a hurry. You want somebody not just to open the door, but to make sure everything’s still in working order,” John points out. A garrison isn’t like a house, where if you lock it up and go away for a week, probably you’ll only need to dust when you come back. Armor and weapons need to be cared for; walls need to be inspected and patched. “Also there’s still the problem of where the people who do go out will stay. We’ll have to take nearly all we need with us, we can’t scavenge.”“We should time it to go out after the new moon anyway,” Peter pipes up, before looking at his sister. “There’s still game here, even if it’s not as thick as we’re used to. But we could build up enough supplies in a week.”Talia looks a little less confident about that. “We’ll do our best, but I agree with John, ‘enough’ depends on the size of the group that goes out.”“Okay, then…maybe we should plan on a smaller group so they can all fit in the guardhouse. And we can do supply runs up to them,” Stiles says, fiddling with the map. “It’ll make searching for the right cave take longer since we’ll have to just basically stumble around till we—”“Stiles?” Scott says. Quietly, but he still has such an odd way of pronouncing things that he immediately attracts everyone’s attention. He flushes and his shoulders hunch in a way that makes John think the poor boy might drop back into a ram, but then Allison reaches over and gives him a pat on the shoulder. Scott glances over and smiles awkwardly, and then looks briefly as if he’s not sure why he did that.“Yep?” Stiles says, also bumping Scott’s shoulder, from the other side. “Something we’re missing, buddy?”“Stiles, we—us sheeple,” Scott says.“We’s fine,” Allison whispers.Stiles gives her an odd look, but the comment seems to reassure Scott more than the shoulder-patting and bumping. “We sheeple,” Scott begins again. “We…can find…the revenants.”“Okay, I know, of course you guys are coming, I wouldn’t leave you behind,” Stiles starts, in the tone of somebody trying to cut off a longstanding argument. Scott looks frustrated, while one of his fellow sheep headbutts Stiles’ chair to cut off him off. While he’s batting her off, Scott clears his throat. “No, I mean—we will find them. We can—we can find them. They—they’re in salt? We can find salt. We know how. People-wolves—”“Werewolves, actually, but really?” Stiles says, looking fascinated. “I mean, I believe you, totally, it’s just Derek and Peter were saying even they can’t—”“But we’re sheeple,” Scott insists, and somehow doing it without coming off as rude. “Werewolves don’t—eat salt. We eat salt. We find salt.”“Well, we do eat it, but granted, it’s the people way if you’re civilized, and raw meat if you’re old-fashioned,” Peter says, also looking very interested. “But prey will zero in on salt licks miles and miles away. They do know how to find it when we wouldn’t.”And then he throws up his arms and falls off his suddenly-swaying chair, while two sheep standing right behind it look very pleased about his yelping. Derek sighs and gives Peter a hand up, muttering about agreeing to not call them prey. Peter mutters back about still being able to generalize and censorship and the two of them get into a side-argument that results in Talia rumbling irritably till they stop.“Okay, then. Awesome,” Stiles says, eyeing Derek and Peter. He doesn’t look too pleased either, and waits till they turn embarrassed looks on him. Then he brightens up and throws his arm around a startled Scott. “Awesome! Problem solved! Man, if I’d known—”“We would have told you,” Scott tells him earnestly. “But—”One of the sheep who’d knocked Peter off his chair comes around and then shifts into a small blonde girl. “We tell you, you be eaten,” she says. Her pronunciation is much closer to normal than Scott’s, but she’s clearly got less of a handle on the grammar. “You too stupid then. Still kind of stupid, but people-wolves and your dad, you live now.”Stiles makes a face at her. “Thanks, Erica. Real ringing endorsement of my skills.”She makes a face right back. “You stupid, and Scott have no hands yet. You fall in cave, how he getting you out? He want to show you, we talk about it, we tell him, stupid.”“Well, he’s got hands now,” Allison says.She’s strangely defensive. Chris leans over and whispers to her and she sighs, but she’s still eyeing Erica. Granted, Erica is completely naked, and completely unself-conscious about it—which John tends to think isn’t only because she used to be a sheep and never learned human ideas like modesty, given how deliberately she avoids Laura Hale’s half-hearted attempt to toss a blanket at her. Erica just tosses her blonde curls and then drops back down as a sheep, trotting back to where she’d been…oh, she’d been the one plopped by Jordan.“Right. So let’s move on from my theoretical, and really, honestly not grounded in reality, self-destructive impulses, and talk about our spiffy sheeple,” Stiles says, with a sidelong look at John. “So how fast do you think you can find the revenant cave?”That’s to Scott, who pulls a thoughtful face. Then he slides off the stool and shifts into a ram—he’s getting better at remembering to shift all his clothes, too—and hurries to the back of the room, where he and the rest of the sheep huddle together.“I think they need a couple minutes to talk it over,” Stiles says. “Anyway, in the meantime…so who’d go? Dad?”“Yeah, and you, and don’t get excited, Stiles,” John says, even as Stiles starts grinning and bouncing on his stool. “You’re not the only one with revenant knowledge now.”“He probably has more firsthand experience than Allison or me,” Chris suddenly volunteers.Allison’s caught off-guard by it. She doesn’t seem to want to disagree with her father, but she does look a little wary that he spoke up. “We were tracking them before we got here,” she eventually goes on, when it’s clear that Chris isn’t planning to. “But we only killed two that we’re sure about. Those are the only two I’ve ever fought, and Dad—”“Not for a good twenty years,” Chris says reluctantly. “Just once, when I was just starting out.”“We had some problems with the villages closer to the pass,” Allison says to Stiles, who’d begun to ask a question. “Some of them, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but they’re getting—they seem to be thinking that if you try and feed the revenants, that will keep them off.”“I didn’t notice that, but I guess that’d explain why the villages started emptying out so quickly,” Stiles says, looking sober. “I didn’t really get a chance to check it out, I’d just—I’d hear when a skinner came by, that another village had shut up.”Talia looks pretty grim herself. “I had hoped those rumors weren’t true,” she mutters. “What fools.”“Well, anyway, between Dad and me and you, I think we can straighten that one out,” Stiles says. He’s doing his best to pep people back up, and Scott comes back and shifts human just in time to grab Stiles by the back of the shirt and keep him from flailing off the seat. “So…um, so that leaves Chris and Allison and Jordan to run the garrison?”Jordan straightens up; Allison doesn’t look too pleased either, but at least she manages to not look as if she might break her stool protesting. “Hey, wai—I mean. Sir.” He ducks his head barely enough to qualify as a salute. “I’m not sure we discussed…did we discuss it? Shouldn’t we? Because it is truly, really truly an honor to be trusted like that, but in light of certain recent events, I—”“We’ll discuss it. We’ll—I need to have some talks about that. Later.” John looks at Talia and wills her to not make a big deal out of the obvious lack of consensus in his chain of command. “I’ll get back to you on that. Anyway, I think Scott—”“A couple days?” Scott says, a little doubtfully. He squares his shoulders but then holds up his hands with a bit of an embarrassed air. “We will go faster if…not all the sheeple have…”“Oh. Yeah, so, they’re not mountain sheep, you know?” Stiles says, catching on. “So the whole spelunking thing. Hard on the hooves, and not all of them wanted to shift human yet, which kind of makes tying a knot tough. So I think we should do small teams, like one sheep, a werewolf, and maybe a couple guards? Anyway, we got a week before we leave, we can work all those tiny details out. But overall, I think we have a plan.” * “I think we’re planning on you not saving the day and then getting locked out, which is why you should send me. I’m expendable, nobody minds if I’m eaten by a revenant,” Jordan says earnestly.Then he and John both pause. Jordan frowns and turns half-around, zeroing in on an overflowing basket of dirty linens. He puts his hand up as John starts to ask what’s going on, then leans over and stoops so that he can just snag the basket handle with his free hand. And then he whips it out of the way to reveal…a very puzzled-looking sheep.“Baa?” the sheep says.“You—you!” Jordan says, jabbing his finger at the sheep. “You—you look exactly like the one who was under my bed this morning. Don’t give me that face, I know—”Another sheep wanders out from behind the simmering vats of soapy water. “Baa,” it—she—John’s reasonably sure Scott is the only male—says, nodding her head at the first sheep.“They do kind of look alike,” John says, as the pair of them trot off towards the stairs, as if nothing about any of that was remotely suspicious. “Stiles swears he can tell them apart, but he did have six months to learn how to do that.”“Yeah, well, I swear, they’re…anyway, we’re getting off the point,” Jordan says, swerving back around. “And the point is, you can’t leave me behind. Come on. I know it’s important to have a competent rearguard and that’s why you should—”John sighs. “Jordan, you’re going.”“—remember that I’m way too hot-headed and young to be trusted if something…er, what?” Jordan says, blinking. “Oh. Okay. Well, then…who’s staying? You can’t just leave the cooks to watch over things. I know Chris has them terrified but that only goes so far.”“Well, that was why I was figuring he’d stay,” John says.Jordan considers that for a little bit. He folds his arms over his chest and frowns down at the floor, and then finally nods. “Makes sense. I guess the biggest risk is if somebody from the capital shows up and wants to know where the hell we all are, and why there’s an outsider in charge. But if that happens, he can just sneak out and he’s not supposed to be here in the first place, so it’s not like he’d be the one facing mutiny charges.”“Just impersonation and fraud ones,” John mutters under his breath. Then he shakes himself, ignoring the way Jordan looks at him right then. He goes around the other man and pulls out the load of freshly-washed sheets they’d used as an excuse to come down, then plops it into the other man’s arms. “I want enough guards to stay back to be able to manage both the front and back gates. They’ll have to keep up wall patrols too—not expecting them to cover everything, but just to keep an eye out for travelers.”“That shouldn’t be a problem. Not everybody’s that eager to go.” Then Jordan grimaces. “That came out wrong. They’re committed, all right, no issues there. It’s just it…kind of is one thing to fight revenants with the fort to retreat to, and another to go marching off to the next pass.”“Pick people who won’t give Chris a hard time, either,” John says. He grabs an armful himself and then starts walking them back towards the stairs. “If I need to talk to any of them first—”“Yeah, I’ll let you know. I’m not just in this for the revenants—I really do want to do this job right. I’m taking the sergeant job seriously,” Jordan says. He’s earnest enough that John looks over again, thinking his face must have been inadvertently disapproving. But no, Jordan’s not doing it out of fear; he genuinely means it, to the point that he’s a little flushed with all that sincerity. “I’ll make sure you don’t regret making me one. Sir.”John nods and then lets Jordan get ahead of him so the other man can elbow open the door and hold it for him. “Well, figure out who’s going and staying, and then come back and we’ll talk it over. But keep it quiet for now—I want this straightened out before we go back to Talia again.”“Yeah. Yeah, I know, I’m sorry about that. I’ll do better in the future,” Jordan promises.They’ll have to, if John’s reading Talia right. She doesn’t strike him as somebody who’s necessarily an expansionist just for the sake of power, but on the other hand, she also doesn’t strike him as somebody who’ll miss potential cleaving lines, even in allies.This whole situation’s just been one frantic, jury-rigged rush from one emergency to another, John thinks. And sure, he’s done well out of that so far, but that’s partly because he hasn’t had to go up against anybody with a decent organized force behind them. Now that he’s got a chance to get his house in order and prepare, he really needs to take it.Well, got a chance once the revenants are under control. If John’s honest, he still sometimes thinks he’ll turn around and some other thing will pop up that he’ll have to deal with before he ever actually makes it out to take those on. What that could be, he doesn’t know—he’s being paranoid. “Not like I have any promotions left,” he mutters, pushing at the door to his new quarters.“Here,” Chris says, appearing out of nowhere. And then saving all the sheets when a startled John drops them. He grunts and hefts them, wincing as one damp corner slaps his thigh, and then twists around to dangle the keys at John. “Did they run out of washline?”“Huh?” John says, keys in hand. Then he makes a face at himself. “Oh. No, I just—I got distracted and forgot to stop off over there. I’ll—”“No, I have it.” Allison swoops in and takes the sheets, cheerfully ignoring the way she’s surprised her father just as badly as he did John a second ago. Then she humps them up in her arms and smiles down at…for some reason ram-Scott was trailing behind Chris. “They’re on the way back to the stables so I can take Scott back at the same time and return the favor.”John raises a brow at Chris, who keeps his face perfectly blank till Allison and Scott have gone off—Allison contently chatting while Scott throws in the occasional meaningful bleat—and he and John have gotten inside. Then Chris rubs his hand over his face and sighs.“I think your son told Scott to follow me around as some kind of…way to keep any trouble from happening,” Chris says, giving John a sidelong glance as he looks up again. He stops and looks at John again, and then lets out an incredulous, but thankfully not offended, laugh. “Really?”“I’ll talk to Stiles,” John mutters. He drops the keys on a shelf and then gives his shirt, now damp from the sheets, an absent stroke down the front. “I don’t think he meant for Scott to escort you everywhere, but still…”“Yeah, he’s been busy running around storage, talking about what we should pack and generally making his case for quartermaster,” Chris says, still amused. He chuckles again, seeing John’s face, and then somehow manages to move himself to stand just a couple inches from John without seeming to put out any effort. He starts fluffing the wet spots on John’s shirt. “It was a nice thought.”John looks at him. “What, Scott?”“The Hales do seem to respect him an awful lot. And funny thing, I don’t think that’s just because of Stiles.” Chris’ hand tangles briefly in the front of John’s shirt, and when he’s getting it free, his fingers slip into the neck and brush at John’s skin. John takes hold of his wrist and traps it there, and he just closes the remaining space to settle against John. “Makes me kind of curious what they got up to on the way here, seeing as he’s a sheep.”“He turns into a person now,” John points out. “I know they’re werewolves, but werewolves aren’t cannibals and…if I think too much about this, I’m going to get a headache, aren’t I?”“Well, just seeing what usually gives you headaches, yeah,” Chris agrees. He doesn’t pull his hand out of John’s grip, but instead switches to his free one, pulling John’s shirt up out of John’s trousers. Then unbuckling John’s belt as John reaches around and starts tugging Chris’ trousers down, starting at the back and working them past Chris’ buttocks.Chris does…some kind of hip-hitch, with that annoyingly young limberness of his, and suddenly John’s got a nice handful of ass. And a warm mouth on his own, and after some absentminded shuffling back and forth, some bare feet teasingly lapping over his toes as he stumbles back through the boots he’s just wormed out of, towards the nearest horizontal surface.He pushes back, sucking on Chris’ tongue enough to distract the man and let John swing them around, so it’s Chris who ends up pushed up against the table edge. Chris puffs a hoarse grunt into John’s mouth, bending slightly backwards so his cock drags up the inside of John’s still-clothed thigh. Then he shivers and grips hard at John’s shoulder, and frots himself into John’s leg again, head dropping slightly so that his stubble scratches up across John’s own unshaven chin.“Fuck,” Chris groans, his hand twisting up in the front of John’s shirt.“I think you gotta be quartermaster,” John says.That was…not how he was planning to do it, but if he didn’t get it out right then, he was going to have to end up doing it balls-deep in Chris and he just…he just thinks he shouldn’t screw up that with business. Which is why he’s screwing it up now instead.Chris doesn’t exactly go stiff, but he’s no longer as pliant as just a second ago. He hangs off the hand he has on John’s shoulder, gasping a bit, and then his breathing steadies. He tilts his head back to look John in the eye. “Quartermaster?”“Listen, you could make the greatest potatoes in the world but I can’t put a cook in charge of the garrison when I’m away,” John says. Then he winces. “Fuck. This is coming out wrong—I need to go and so does Jordan, he’s closer to the other guards than I’ve been, and I think at least one of you or Allison should go too, but I—well, even if I thought it was a good idea, I can’t ask Talia to let me borrow a family member—”“I was assuming I’d stay,” Chris says, blinking. He pauses and shifts and his cock’s half-worked between John’s legs so that’s…that’s distracting, and Chris looks a little regretful, like he really wasn’t trying for that effect. Then he rolls his ass up to perch on the edge of the table, sighing and putting one hand to his back. “Honestly, thought I’d have to argue you into it.”John cocks his head. “Do I have any other choice?”“Well, no.” But then a little flicker of something uncertain goes across Chris’ face. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean you’d want to take that risk.”“Risk? What—we’re actually sleeping together now. My son got you a bodyguard,” John says. “Sure, it’s a little fluffy one, but it’s still a—anyway, honestly, do you think I don’t trust you now?”Chris looks as if he’s torn between being amused and being cynical. In the end, he settles for an expression that’s probably trying to be sensible and is coming out more wistful, with the way his hands keep sliding down John’s chest to John’s waist, and then jerking back up to John’s shoulders.“You don’t really talk that much more,” Chris finally says.“Well, look, I do all this—” And then John stops himself. Takes a couple deep breaths. Then sighs out the last one and leans forward to press his forehead against Chris’; Chris hesitates, then moves his hands around to the small of John’s back. “Okay. Yeah, I do, and would you like to be quartermaster and make sure things go all right while we’re out finding that cave?”“Not really,” Chris says, and then he kisses John hard, cutting off John’s exclamation. Holds that tight for a second before dropping back. “But of course I’ll do it. Just bring yourself and Allison back in one piece.”John can’t help smiling. “I wasn’t really planning on the alternative.”“I wasn’t really planning on staying your cook,” Chris says, just tart enough to make John try and kiss him again. He ducks it and then sort of gives John a reprimanding bump on the cheekbone with his head. “Kind of like it more than I thought I would, I’ll admit. But you need a quartermaster. And no offense, but your son—”“Oh, hell, Stiles doesn’t want it, he just likes telling everybody what to do. He can set up a sheepfold with that pair of werewolves and study up on his magic and be chief apothecary or engineer or something like that,” John says. Slipping his hands onto Chris’ thighs, running his thumbs up the insides as Chris lets out a low, wanting noise. “I love my kid, but you’ll do a better job.”Chris breathes in sharply. His fingers tighten on John’s back and John raises his head and Chris ducks under it. Presses his lips to John’s neck, right over the pulse. Then starts moving down, mouthing over John’s collarbone, as he finally gets John’s trousers loosened enough for them to fall down John’s hips on their own.“Yeah, I’ll do a good job,” he mutters. Then he swings his arm up around John’s neck, pulling himself up by that as John presses them together. “Okay, can we get to the bed so you can fuck me already?”“What’s wrong with the table?” John says.Chris sucks his breath again, but this time it’s in annoyance. “My back’s not as young as it used to be, you know.”“I couldn’t actually tel—” John says, or starts to say, when Chris suddenly hauls himself forward and up, wrapping his legs around John’s waist.Which proves John’s point, and it’s not like John’s back is as young as it used to be for things like carrying a grown man around, and…they do eventually go to bed. Eventually. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- One and a half weeks later, when the trading caravans stop running for the year, they head out of the garrison and over to the other pass.John’s efforts to educate the surrounding villages seem to have temporarily halted the revenants’ advance, since the rumor about people feeding revenants has died down, and the line where the villages stop and the unpopulated part of the old pass road starts hasn’t moved too much since Stiles retreated down it with his flock, Derek and Peter.On the other hand, the revenants are obviously getting more plentiful on the ground, seeing as nobody’s bothering to come back in the day and clean up what’s left after they’ve been through a village.“Well, this was the one they were saying was threatening to feed people to them,” Jordan says, half-heartedly trying to cheer John up.“I remember this knife,” Allison says, picking up something from the ground. She shows it to a frowning Scott and a standoffish but reluctantly interested Laura Hale. “This was the man who sprang Dad’s and my traps, and almost got us killed by the revenant who got loose.”“I think this used to be somebody,” Stiles says from a few yards over, looking a little ill as he pokes at a darkish, sticky-looking patch on the ground. Beside him, Derek leans over, sniffs, and then nods. “I guess…the upside is I don’t think there’s enough left here to worry about it turning into a new revenant?”John looks around at the guards he’s brought with him, assesses their expressions as disgusted tending towards alarmed, and orders them to start building a bonfire. Based on what he’s seen so far, he doubts that they’re going to need a fire that big, but they need something to settle them down and the werewolves, who look a little steadier about the potential for carnage, should be able to sweep the village for any survivors faster.None turn up, though whatever happened, happened recently enough that they’re at least able to recover a fair amount of food and other useful items. The buildings also seem sound enough, with only one suffering noticeable damage, but…John suggests to Talia, and she agrees, that they push on and camp somewhere else for the night.With the size of their group and the amount of supplies they’re taking with them, they won’t be able to make it to the guardhouse Stiles used for at least another day, and possibly two, depending on how much the wagons bog down. If they try to get as far forward as they can, they can probably cut down the next day’s travel distance, but then they’ll have to sleep out in the open. Since most of them are yet to take on a revenant themselves, John ends up settling for two more days of travel so he can use the remains of the next closest village for shelter.The werewolves are surprisingly okay with that plan. Not that John was expecting them to prefer the outdoors simply because they’re werewolves—his old colleague had always been the first to head indoors in bad weather—but he’d figured they would want to keep going, seeing as Talia’s so insistent this is her pack’s territory.“Derek and Peter clued them in,” Stiles explains, popping into the house John’s taken after dinner. “They got caught by a couple revenants right before we, um, before I…invited them over, let’s say, and were hurt pretty badly—well, Derek was, since he bit it before I could tell him why you shouldn’t do it, and Peter had to watch, and I think between the two of them, they’ve convinced the rest of the pack to not take these things too lightly.”“That’s good to hear,” John says. The lone chair left in the place has uneven legs, so to stop himself from rocking constantly, he props his feet up on a bit of timber sticking out of the wall.The door’s hanging off one hinge and he’s debating whether he should nail a temporary bar over it for the night, or just take it down entirely and wedge it horizontally across the doorway as more of a barricade against any revenants. Most people have turned in for the night, aside from the first watch, but through the doorway he can see Jordan talking to a somewhat-bemused Peter. John’s seen enough of how Peter follows Stiles around to believe that Peter isn’t going to intentionally do anything to harm Stiles, but…he’s also seen enough of Peter lurking around to not be so sure about everybody else.“Oh, he’s just interested in the fact that Jordan knows how to distill stuff,” Stiles says, catching onto where John’s looking. He makes a dismissive gesture with one hand and then leans up against the doorway. “He really isn’t going to secretly trick Jordan into giving up all the moonshine master knowledge and then murder him. That’s just Peter’s face.”“You’re really not reassuring me,” John says, and then nods towards the miffed expression Peter’s making, which Peter then has to try to explain that to a puzzled Jordan. “Or him.”“Well, I told him if Talia wants to know what the guard’s up to, he should ask me to ask you, and not go poking around Parrish,” Stiles says. He shoots his own miffed expression at Peter, who hastily turns his face into an apologetic one. Stiles rolls his eyes and Peter abandons all efforts at pretending to keep up his talk with Jordan and just drops into wolf form and comes over to poke his muzzle at Stiles’ hip. “Oh, don’t you—listen, just because the sheep do it doesn’t mean you get to—I’m not forgiving people based on how fuzzy and big-eyed they are!”Peter whines and wags his tail in a suspiciously dog-like manner, and then, when Stiles sighs, plops his butt down and hopefully lifts his ears. Stiles makes a face but his hand still comes out and starts rubbing at Peter’s head.“I am pretty sure that Talia and I agreed to table things till we found the cave, but generally speaking, we’re going to have a revenant problem for a while even after that’s taken care of,” John says, looking at Peter. He’ll admit, the werewolf does a nice line in limpid innocence. “Seems like maintaining some sort of co-working relationship’s in all of our interests. And it’d make it a hell of a lot easier when it comes time to decide where to spend the winter holidays.”“Dad,” Stiles says, blushing furiously, as if that isn’t another wolf-head peeking around the corner. “Okay, listen, I am all for strong parent-child communication channels but let’s just slow that one down—”Derek—John does have an easier time telling the werewolves apart—slinks over and then swerves as Peter abruptly flops down where he’d been about to step. He snaps his teeth and Peter huffs and tosses his head, then rolls over, one foreleg curled invitingly in the air. Blinking, Derek looks around at everyone and then back at Peter, who snorts and pokes him with that lifted paw. So Derek irritably hunches down and Peter, tongue hanging out of a big grin, rolls into him, throwing the foreleg over Derek’s shoulders and then nuzzling at Derek’s ears till Derek’s distinctive scowl—which carries over faithfully from his human form—softens.John looks at them. “Stiles.”“Oh, okay, fine, I kind of was counting on at least a couple doggie beds by the fireplace,” Stiles says. He’s still narrowing his eyes at the two wolves, but his face says it’s a losing battle. “Though no promises that you won’t walk—”“Kid, you are getting your own bedroom. Even if you hadn’t earned it by bringing in the Hales, you’d get one just for my own sanity,” John snorts. He ignores the way both werewolves prick up and then looks up at Jordan, who’s given into his curiosity and come over too. “We can find something near the stables, right?”“Yeah. I think we should knock down some walls in the barracks anyway, with how many people we’ve got, it’s a problem that they’re all so far apart, but we should be able to do something to get you enough room for everybody,” Jordan says pleasantly enough. But then he gives Stiles kind of a shifty look. “And if I do that, the sheep are going to stop bugging me, right?”Stiles blinks. “What?”“They’re stalking me. Come on, don’t tell me you don’t know, you had Scott walking Chris everywhere,” Jordan says, his shiftiness turning into outright outrage. “Every time I turn around, there’s a sheep. When I’m running laps, when I’m doing inventory in the armory—I found one under my bed and another one in my laundry. And I thought we were friends.”“I—well, yeah, we are and I…wasn’t mad at you that I can remember, unless you did something the sheep didn’t tell me about yet,” Stiles says, but he’s obviously groping for an explanation. He frowns and stops patting Peter. “Um. I’ll…I’ll look into that. I’ll…you know what, I gotta find Scott anyway, I’ll go ask right now.”“I think he was over with Allison, last I saw them,” Jordan says.Stiles is not surprised about that. “Yeah, of course,” he mutters, just before shooting John a somewhat nervous look. “Well, I should talk to her too, so I’ll just…be right back.”Jordan raises an eyebrow at John, who decides he’s going to ignore that one for now. John hasn’t missed the little signs between Scott and Allison but on the Scott side, he figures Stiles is better-equipped for figuring out…whether Scott actually understands what’s going on and if so, how that works for a sheeple. As for Allison, Chris seems to be taking the wait-and-see approach and it’s not really John’s place to second-guess him.Anyway, John’s more immediately interested in the two werewolves who are just now getting to their feet, and instead of running off after his son, shifting human and sitting down with the apparent expectation that they’re going to talk. Well, at least with Peter—Derek looks like he’d rather run off but Peter’s got a firm grip on his shoulder.“Could we have a word?” Peter says.“Is it about my son?” John says.Peter nods and then smiles pointedly at Jordan, who raises his brows right back. John resists the urge to drop his face into his hand and clears his throat, and when Jordan looks over, he jerks his head, signaling for the other man to leave.“But I committed to dragging you out if things went south,” Jordan says, a little offended. “Doesn’t that get me a vested interest?”“Well, yeah, but I think that’s in me, not him,” John says.“But you’re not actually going to let me join in on warning Chris,” Jordan protests. “Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if you managed it so Stiles is always running off with his sheeple—”John gives up and puts his face in his hand. “Parrish, did they finish clearing the brush back to the treeline?”Jordan opens and closes his mouth a few times. Then he backs out of the doorway, but he’s got a mulish expression on his face that says John’s only going to get a few minutes with Peter and Derek before Stiles suddenly discovers he needs to come back over. “Yes, sir, I’ll go confirm that they finished doing the thing we can see from here without getting up. Right away, sir.”“Great, thank you,” John mutters. He keeps his hand over his face till Jordan’s footsteps fade, and then he sighs and rolls back his shoulders and looks up.“Rather insubordinate, isn’t he?” Peter offers, with a slightly sympathetic tone, in a very wink-nudge conspiratorial way.John looks levelly at him. They haven’t had much chance to interact, and there’s been even less chance for John to see how Peter acts and what he’s capable of, although Talia seems to consult him as much as she does her eldest child and presumptive heir, Laura. She doesn’t seem the type to tolerate fools, and that combined with how much Stiles likes him says he’s intelligent. That said, he’s really still very young, and certainly doesn’t seem to have had the time to learn when he can be familiar and when he might want to just stick with being polite.“You going to offer to bite Stiles?” John asks.Peter’s face blanks out with shock. He looks even younger with his eyes rounded like that. Next to him, Derek straightens up so abruptly that he loses his balance and lurches forward. Then catches himself so Peter, grabbing at him, gets him on the way back up and almost knocks him off his feet again. Derek’s not really done anything except look as if he really would rather not be in public, so it’s a little bit of a surprise when he manages to speak before Peter does.“We’re not alphas!” Derek hisses, as if John’s proposing something completely insane.“Well, I didn’t mean you, I meant Talia—” John starts. Then stops because they look even more alarmed.“Oh, no, no, no. No, we’re—I’m not sure how you got that impression but let me know who it was and I’ll make sure Talia and I speak to them and—no, of course not,” Peter jumps in, in the hurried tone of somebody desperately trying to correct a fatal error. “No, we—”“We like him. We like him a lot, and we—” Derek looks urgently at Peter and then barrels on anyway, over what Peter’s trying to say “—we’re serious about him, and why would we do that?”“I think we might be talking about different things here,” John says after a moment. He’d like to look out and see whether Stiles is coming back yet, but he can’t do that without pushing towards Derek and Peter and they’re so agitated he’s afraid they might take it the wrong way. “Look, it’s been a while for me and maybe I’m remembering wrong, but I thought when werewolves want a long-term relationship with a non-werewolf, they offer—”Peter’s calming down a little bit, though he still looks as if he’s regretting not waiting till, say, when he could have Talia do this. “Oh, yes, but that’s when the non-werewolf is joining the pack,” he says. He’s absently, and quite vigorously, patting at Derek’s shoulder. “Not when it’s the other way around.”“Oh, you mean with the sheeple?” John says.A little exasperated twitch goes through Derek. For all that Stiles claims Derek actually loves the sheeple, from what John’s seen, Derek tolerates them while they seem to think he’s very funny. “Well, they come with Stiles and we know that, but you’re the alpha,” he says.“What Derek means is that we want to be respectful of the, ah, the parties’ relative positions, in terms of resources, and authority, and we do recognize you as the proper person to address,” Peter explains, with a lot of strained, hopeful smiling.John starts to ask whether they’re still talking about the wrong thing, because this is sounding a lot more like potential treaty negotiations and less like the kind of talk a father’s expected to have with his kid’s suitors, and then it clicks for him. He waits another moment, just to see if it will stop clicking, because it’s just…well, okay, to be honest it’s not too weird against everything that’s happened in the past few months. Actually, he probably should start getting used to this. Probably.“Is this a lead-in into some kind of…courtship price?” John finally says.“Well, I realize you have a number of discussions pending with my sister, but she agrees this one is better handled by Derek and myself, and we can put forward some very attractive offers without bringing the whole pack into it,” Peter promptly spouts, recovering his confidence as he gets back onto firmer ground.Interestingly, Derek seems a little less eager to jump back into it. “Did you…think we were going to ask you for something?” he says warily.“I. Okay. I…look, I don’t need—you don’t need to bring a dowry over or anything like that,” John says, shaking his head. “Stiles wouldn’t—he doesn’t think about that kind of thing, and we shouldn’t need it, and just don’t mess him up and I think you and I will be fine. All right?”Derek nods and sags back, looking relieved. Peter’s a little bit slower, gesturing a little limply and then tilting his head. “You’re sure?” he says. “You don’t…want to negotiate for anything at all?”“Well, do we need to? Is it not a real relationship in werewolf terms if you don’t give me something?” John asks. “Can you just give me a rabbit and we’ll call it even?”Peter and Derek look at each other. Derek scuffs his foot forward and pokes at Peter’s ankle, and then makes meaningful motions with his shoulders and eyebrows, while Peter’s expression passes from annoyed to resigned and finally, to cautiously pleased.“I think we can arrange something,” Peter says to John. “We’ll…regroup and then come back to you?”John suppresses a sigh, because really, he’ll go through the motions of negotiating if it ends up getting Stiles what makes him happy and sometimes John just wonders if other fathers end up in these kinds of situations. Maybe he should ask Chris—actually, he really should, if only to make sure there’s not some odd hunter-guild custom he should be aware of. Though Chris had said they’d dropped most of his family’s traditions. So that should be okay. Maybe.“Yeah, sure,” John finally says. “Let me know whenever you work it out.”“Thank you,” Derek says, without the perpetual scowl. When he’s earnest like that…he’s younger than Peter so he’s probably younger than Stiles, but John makes a note to ask his son just how young that is, since maybe John’s the one who should be giving Stiles a stern talk.“Yes, thank you,” Peter says, just as earnestly. It’s awkward on him, but not in the insincere sense; he’s genuine about it, and obviously not used to acting that way with people he doesn’t know well. “And for the time being, I assure you, Derek and I, at least, are fully committed to eradicating the revenants, whoever we have to work with.”Peter’s tone goes a little funny at the end, and then he winces and his head ticks towards Derek without him actually looking over. As for Derek, he looks as if he wishes Peter hadn’t said that, but then he pushes back his shoulders and raises his chin.“Listen, I’m not going to make any trouble about Chris and Allison. I never met them before this and they weren’t—weren’t part of the Argents who came after us before,” Derek says. “But I’m not making any promises about other Argents.”“Neither of us are,” Peter says, and then almost-smiles when Derek shoots him a startled look.“Well, fine by me,” John says, standing up because he hears somebody coming over. “And for the record, I’m not expecting either of you to be friends with either of them. Just if you can all stick to whatever rules Chris and Talia laid down—and I do mean all, not just you two.”“Okay,” Derek says, blinking. He and Peter both look surprised, though Peter immediately wipes it out of his face and just nods and starts tugging Derek back. “Okay, well, we’re…we’ll…”“We’ll get back to you about the gift,” Peter says, just before pulling Derek fully out of the house.As it turns out, it’s not Stiles coming back yet—it’s Jordan. “Sheep in my bedroll,” he says. “Not on. In. I think it thought I might mistake it for a pillow.”“You don’t take a pillow with you,” John points out.Jordan looks a little wild. “I know. John, listen, we gotta—”“Okay, okay, we’ll get to the bottom of it,” John sighs, as he puts his arm over the other man’s shoulders. “We will. But for now, let’s just get through the night.” * Even with the threat of revenants and without the security of the garrison walls, it feels surprisingly peaceful in the abandoned village. Probably the lack of noise—John can hear the tread of the people on watch and there are the low grunts and scuffles from the werewolves and sheeple—the sheeple still seem to prefer sleeping as sheep, outside, while about half the werewolves are shifted out and snuggling among them—that occasionally drift in through the doorway and windows. But to a man who’s used to the early-to-rise, late-to-bed racket of the kitchens, the quiet is downright unnerving.John turns over on his bedroll and then starts, his head lifting, as his arm comes down farther than expected. Usually…usually there’s another body in the way. Even before he and Chris had begun sleeping together, with that narrow bed John had just gotten used to crooking his body around, so now all the extra space is—weird.He lies there for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling, and then he sighs and figures he might as well take a shift at watch after all, and gets up. * They deal with a couple revenants that night, and one more in the early morning, just after setting out. The next night’s camp, the revenants are twice as thick, but they handle them well, too. It’s pretty brisk, no-nonsense work, and so far all the training John and Jordan worked on with the guards seems to be holding up. Not being able to actively help villagers had been incredibly frustrating, but the upside is that having to spend all that time explaining things has drilled exactly what to do into the guards’ heads.“The werewolves are the ones who seem to be playing catch-up,” Jordan observes with no little surprise, once they’ve made it to the old guardhouse and start to set it up for renewed occupation. “Don’t get me wrong, they’re enthusiastic and it’s not like they’re doing it wrong, but it just looks…awkward.”“Yeah, well, they’re used to just biting and ripping into things, and now they have to get used to range weapons,” Stiles says, coming up from where he’s been taking down his protective spells so people can get into the guardhouse. “They’ve got to totally rework their attack instincts, so cut them a little slack, Parrish.”Jordan holds up his hands. “I wasn’t criticizing, just observing. You know, the way your sheeple are doing to me.”At that Stiles winces so hard that John automatically checks who’s in hearing distance, since he knows whatever Stiles is about to say next, it’s going to be…they’ll be lucky if it’s just embarrassing. “Yeah,” Stiles says, looking at his feet and scratching at the back of his head. “So. About that. I asked and…I figured out why they’re doing that.”Nearly a minute later, Jordan sighs. “And?”Stiles’ head snaps up and he’s got that slightly crazed look he normally gets after spending all night reading things he probably shouldn’t be. “And so listen, keep in mind they’re only newly introduced to the human world and they’re sheeple, not shifters, they didn’t start from a human base and go sheep, they’re sheep who are learning how to be human, and sheep things don’t necessarily translate to human things and—”Jordan rolls his eyes. “Stilinski, I’ve got black dog in the family tree somewhere, so I know about animal instincts and all that—”“—and they’re curious about men ‘cause remember Scott’s the only ram and Scott’s a sheeple so they were saying that they don’t know if he’s different from men-men and they want to know and they’ve seen me but they pointed out I’m just one example and the werewolves keep turning into, well, wolves, so they can’t really see for long enough and they just really want to know another human male for comparison and you’re kind of accessible,” Stiles rattles off. Then his eyes bulge and he leans over and grabs his knees and wheezes.“I’m what?” Jordan says a moment later.“Accessible,” Stiles repeats. He winces. “I…told them to be nice to Dad, so they went with the next highest in the, ah, the ‘flock’ hierarchy—” he makes quotation marks with his fingers “—and that’s you.”Jordan absorbs this. “Why isn’t it Chris?”“Wait,” John says.Both Stiles and Jordan ignore him. “Well, I think because they’re still trying to figure out how human mating works? I mean, sheep don’t normally go in pairs, right?” Stiles says. “Scott understands that part about people so far, believe me, he and I and Allison sat down and had a long talk about what it means to learn human relationships and not rushing things and making sure you really understand what you’re learning first and, um, anyway, what’s relevant to here is the other sheeple are still kind of catching up there.”“So…what, did they think when people have sex, it’s like a lamb and mom thing?” Jordan says. “That’s the way they do pair up, but that’d be really—”“No, they’re not dumb, you jerk, they know our stuff isn’t straight comparable with sheep stuff, and they’re actually doing the smart, reasonable thing and reserving judgment till they can understand things the way we see them,” Stiles says, smacking Jordan on the arm. “Unlike actual people, who are way too quick to jump to faulty analogies.”John…really doesn’t need any part of this discussion, either with respect to participation or to learning anything from it. “Listen, can you just stop having them follow Jordan around?” he sighs. “I need him for other things. When we’re less busy, maybe we can ask for volunteers but—”“Well, actually, if that was why, I guess I don’t mind that much,” Jordan says, stepping back and looking contemplatively at the nearest sheeple. “It’s a little weird but if they just want to have a look for comparative purposes, that’s okay.”“I…would like to say thank you on their behalf, but I have this sneaking suspicion that I’d be unable to do that without grossly and undeservedly inflating your ego,” Stiles says, his eyes narrowing at Jordan.“Excuse me,” John says, before the two of them can start up again. Then he points at the mountain range. “Can we just start searching for the cave? Is this going to help us with that in any way?”Jordan and Stiles shut their mouths, blink, and then look penitent. “Yeah, yeah, of course,” Stiles says, shuffling around in his cloak for a second. Then he pulls out and unfolds a map and a second piece of paper. “Okay. Well, so I have the stretch divided up into twelve sectors, and we have four teams so that’s three sectors per team. I did my best to make the sectors equal but till we stare getting into the caves, we don’t really know what we’re dealing with.”“We’ll handle that as we go. This looks good, son,” John says, peering over Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles ducks his head, looking pleased, and John hides his own amusement as he gives Stiles a light pat on the back. “Well, let’s get inside and get a good night’s sleep and then get started on this first thing tomorrow morning.” “Should I start sleeping over with the sheep?” Jordan asks. When Stiles and John look over, he attempts to look nonchalant. “You know, just get that over with and let them satisfy their curiosity and all. I think it might help them keep their mind on the job.”“Oh, for…I should’ve just let you wonder what was going on,” Stiles says, indignantly snapping shut the map. “I knew you were just going to take it—”John puts his hand over his face. “Inside. Sleep. Now.” * The guardhouse is a little bit of a tight fit, even with the night patrol taking up posts outside since Stiles decided the salt lines he’d dug around the building had degraded too much to rely only on them, and in the morning they’re all relieved to get out and stretch their limbs and actually get to work. And then the teams assemble.John and Talia and Scott—with Stiles helping him figure out when to be insistent—had done their best to put together groups who’d complement each other, but they’d had to account for certain non-negotiable rules. Derek might not want to press any kind of vendetta with the Argents, but he wasn’t going to go in any group that also had Allison. And according to Talia, who had a very carefully composed expression on her face at the time, while Peter wouldn’t mind being placed with her, it just didn’t seem wise.In fact, the only werewolf willing to accompany Allison is Talia herself, which meant John couldn’t put just anyone else in that group. Sure, he took Talia at her word that she wouldn’t pursue a fight either, but being captain of the palace guard had taught him that a fair gap still existed between not fighting and making peace. So since any group Stiles went into would inevitably pick up Derek and Peter, and Jordan wasn’t quite experienced enough to deal with a werewolf of Talia’s stature, that left…“Scott.” Stiles shrugs. “He’d want to go with Allison anyway. He wouldn’t ever ask, but…look, do you really want to get looped in on that one right now, Dad?”“Honestly, not really,” John sighs. “On the other hand, I want your friend to be okay, too.”Stiles blinks, then laughs as if John wasn’t completely serious about that. “Dad, listen, Scott single-handedly took out revenants even before he got hands. We were on the way here and he charged one coming up behind Talia, and then sat down and chewed cud till we were done burning the body. I think he’ll be okay with her.”“All right, well, then that puts you, Derek, Peter and Erica together with Marcus and Jacob,” John says, consulting his list. “Jordan’s going with the Hale sisters, Boyd, and…and…”“I promise I won’t tell Lydia you forgot her name,” Stiles says. Then he frowns as if he can’t understand why him being dead sincere about that comes off as odd. “Anyway, yep, so that leaves you with David Hale and Heather, and then the rest stay back at the guardhouse. So that’s first rotation, anyway. Anything else?”“Be careful,” John says.Stiles starts to make a face and then looks again at John. He still looks a little exasperated, but his expression softens as he reaches over and gives John a half-hearted poke with his knuckles. “You too,” he says. “I mean, come on, Dad. I only just got home.”“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” John resists another second, then gives in and hugs his son. Ignores the squirming, and tops it off with a ruffle at Stiles’ hair before he goes off to his team.Except for Peter and Talia, none of the Hales seem to be particularly talkative with outsiders. David is polite enough, but the moment he can, he shifts into a wolf and lopes up to just behind Heather, who’s one of the sheeple who hasn’t yet taken the step to gain the ability to shift human.John figures that’s just as well, since the terrain is rough and he’s got to spend most of his time watching his step, and that’s even before they start descending into their allotted caves. Doing that and making sure that Heather doesn’t get too far ahead is just about all John has the attention for.Heather almost immediately makes beelines through the caves, directing them towards the biggest salt deposits. Finding them and checking for encased revenants is easy enough, but the deposits are so plentiful that they don’t make a hell of a lot of progress before their shift is up. And by then all of them, even the werewolf, are so worn out with worming in and out of caves and tunnels that they really do need to be relieved, so John lays down a marker to show where they stopped, and then they head back to the guardhouse to rest up.Everybody works hard, but it’s basically the same for them, too. For the first two days, shifts go out and in, but with nothing to show for it but an awful lot of rock salt.And then, on the third day, Scott finds a sinkhole.Well, to be accurate, he finds a flooded sinkhole and sets up beside it and won’t budge, so Allison starts clearing out a campsite near it and Talia sends up a summoning howl to bring the rest of them over. The other sheep immediately congregate around the opening, acting edgy and headbutting at anybody who wants to look down into it till Stiles gets there.“That’s the cave,” Stiles announces after conferring with Scott. “I mean, down under the water.”Jordan looks dubiously at the opening. It’s only a few yards wide and from farther off, looks like a harmless spring, but when you get close, the water’s so dark that you can’t make out the bottom. The effect’s made even more menacing by the dissolved salt in the water, which washes up the sides of the sinkhole and leaves them crusted with dirty white rings.“But shouldn’t the brine keep them from moving around, too?” Jordan asks. “Don’t tell me they’re crawling out of that place.”“No, but some idiot crawled in at some point,” Peter says. He’s standing a few feet from the sinkhole, frowning at something on the rock slabs that surround the sinkhole. Talia goes over and the two of them exchange gestures till a curious Stiles joins them, dropping down and tugging at something embedded in the rock. Stiles grunts and braces himself against his foot, and then whatever it is comes free, sending him flying backwards. Peter lunges and grabs him by the arm just as Derek, pivoting from the other direction, shoves the nearest sheep behind him as some kind of makeshift barrier to keep John’s son from falling dangerously near the sinkhole edge.“Pulley,” Stiles announces, oblivious to his rescuer werewolves. He’s slightly more attentive to the annoyed sheep—Lydia? John’s starting to see some slight differences in how they ‘maa’ at people—and gives her a pat as he stands up, holding out the rusty metal bit. “Okay. So somebody went spelunking in there, maybe salt-mining or something?”“I think the sinkhole’s natural,” Allison says, looking back at the opening. Scott’s shifted human and is hovering at her elbow, looking anxious, but he’s letting her go right up to the edge. “Probably the water leached down and ate the salt away till the top fell in. But the water level varies a lot, you can tell by how wide the salt crusts are spread out. I bet the cave drains out in the fall when the streams start freezing up.”“But those are werewolf signs,” Derek mutters, talking to his mother and pointing at the spot she and Peter had been examining. “Since when do we check out salt caves?”Talia frowns and scuffs her foot over something, and when John finally goes over, he can just make out some worn-down scratches under the lichen and moss overgrowth she’s scrubbing away. The symbols don’t include spirals or any of the commonly-known werewolf signs, but John remembers enough of what his old colleague had taught him to recognize that some are werewolf pack brands, even if he can’t recognize which packs they belong to.“I suppose for any number of reasons at first,” she eventually says. “Perhaps some prey fell in and they wanted to recover the meat. The deer and so forth would come for the salt, of course, so I imagine this was a popular stalking ground for the omegas who used to roam here.”Peter’s taken the pulley bit from Stiles and has squatted down to use it to pick at the hole from which Stiles had pulled it out. “Or they went in thinking they’d find an advantage or two,” he muses. “If that hole dries up from time to time, and they went down and were mauled, but not so badly they couldn’t get back before they died, and then of course they’d turn into revenants up here…hmm. Broken claws here.”He pulls one out of the ground and then hands it over to an immediately-interested Talia. She flips it around and is starting to pick out the dirt from the broad end when John clears his throat.“Listen, I guess it’s…it’d be useful to know exactly what happened with the first one, but for now, as far as stopping them goes—we’re sure this is the right cave?” he says.“Yes,” Scott says. Then he makes an awkward gesture that involves pointing to his tongue and looking uncertainly at Stiles.“Um, yeah, the sheeple are sure,” Stiles says. “Revenants have this weird…um, taste to them, and even with all that water it’s coming through. So there are definitely revenant bodies steeping in there. But I don’t know how we’re supposed to get them out—I don’t think we want to dive in there, even if the saltwater will stop them from moving…”“But this thing dries out once in a while,” Jordan says, looking from Allison to Stiles and then to John. “Right? So it’s got to have drainage somewhere. We could just find the holes, make it bigger, and then send down a team.”It’s not a bad idea, but the garrison force is too depleted to even have a full-time engineer anymore, and while John’s seen a lot of creative jerry-rigging from the guards, for a project of that size, you really want a bit more expertise than that. “Still going to take a while to set all of that up properly,” he notes. “In the meantime, somebody’s going to have to sit here and make sure nobody else falls in.”“Well, I can set up some beacons and things like that so they’re not literally sitting here,” Stiles says contemplatively. “The guardhouse is getting spiffed up again and now that we know where to go, it’s not a bad hike from there.”“I imagine we’ll need a while simply to comb through the mountainsides and find all of the existing revenants as well,” Talia says. Her tone’s a little dry and when John looks at her, she offers him a smile that’s about as conciliatory as it is challenging. She’s going to keep it friendly but she’s not going to roll over and show her belly, is how John reads it. “This is a good central supply location for that too, for both of us. Particularly as you’ll maintain an interest in alternatives to your pass across the range, I expect.”John sees Stiles frown out of the corner of his eye, while Peter’s looking a little wary of his sister. But when Stiles gets up—Scott and Allison both step towards him—John holds up his hand. Stiles hesitates, then reluctantly stands back.“That sounds an awful lot like a treaty,” John says to Talia.“Or a trade deal. Or an alliance for mutual protection. I suppose it all depends on your perspective,” Talia says, still smiling. “I do understand you’re a little bit reluctant to stand on your authority, but—”“Yeah, well—look, if I’m close enough to that for you.” Then John pauses and lets her take it from there. Her eyes narrow a little but mostly he thinks she’s amused. And a little respectful, when she finally nods at him. “Then I guess you and I might as well do it. No point in waiting till something else happens.”“Indeed,” Talia says. “At the rate I hear you’ve been going, I’ll likely be talking to the cook next time.” John opens his mouth. Then shuts it. Then he just tries not to look too much like he has a headache, even if he’s starting to. Because, well, she’s kind of got a point, and every time so far that John’s stopped to consider that kind of point, something’s happened to him and he’d just rather not end up accidentally leading a reverse coup against the capital. He’s finally gotten to a place where he thinks he can both do what he thinks needs to be done, without sneaking around people’s backs, and can be content with it. So he’d rather not tempt fate again.“So, why don’t we talk about those sweeps?” he suggests, ignoring how Talia smirks at him. * *“She should be fair,” Chris says, several days after, when they’ve returned to the garrison to find it not only peaceful but scrupulously clean, with several major repairs to the plumbing underway. “Talia’s an alpha, they’re always going to test how far they can push you, but she’s not known for the kind of posturing for the sake of posturing that other alphas are.”“Sure, but still, makes me glad that Stiles is interested in taking up the guardhouse post again,” John mutters, sitting down to the evening meal. He lets Chris serve him two of the three steaming, delicious-smelling dishes on the table and then rolls his eyes and catches Chris’ arm and holds onto it till Chris abandons the silly serving spoon and just sits down with him. “Call me a bad parent for putting my son out there, but he seems to handle the werewolves better, and when he can’t, his sheeple can scare them. I’m okay just going out to visit with the weekly supply run.”Chris laughs and picks up his silverware, but manages to do it slowly enough that John still ends up taking the first bite. Which is so good that John half-forgets about being annoyed with Chris and just chews and tastes and…realizes he’s moaning a little right when Chris hides a chuckle with his mug.“This isn’t potato,” John mumbles through his mouthful.“It is potato,” Chris says, taking another swig that does nothing to hide his smirk. “I know you said you were sick of them, but we still have too many. But it’s not that recipe, anyway, and you seem like you like them.”“Yeah.” John stuffs more into his mouth and this time, manages to not moan. Barely. “Yeah. They’re good. They’re…”“Shoestring fries,” Chris says. He watches John eat, the smugness slowly melting into a less self-interested kind of satisfaction. “The trick is cook them twice and use duck fat.”John’s still eating the fries, but a tiny, stubborn piece of his mind is still trying to listen to Chris, because the rest of his mind is so distracted because of the man and what he’s done while John was out with the rest at the revenant cave and all of that was great and John really does appreciate it. And appreciate Chris. And damn, but these potato shoestring things are good. “Duck fat? Where did you get ducks? Did you send down a hunting party while we were gone? They don’t usually fly this high up the mountain.”And suddenly Chris is frowning. “You didn’t send it?” he says.“The duck fat?” John says, which pretty much answers Chris, from the expression on the other man’s face. “Well, no…not that I know of, but why…”“When they were unpacking the new supplies for the larder, Jordan handed me a jar of duck fat and said it was for you,” Chris says, still frowning. “For you, not from you…and he was in one of the Hale wagons at the time, come to think of it…”John goes still. Then he picks up a fry and looks at it. “Chris, you used to know about werewolves, right?”“Well, I still do, I just don’t really use it,” Chris says, looking a little wary. “Why do you ask?”“Because I’m rusty and anyway, Talbot never got into his pack much so…anyway, say that duck fat’s actually from Derek and Peter, and they got it to you via Jordan because they figured you’d cook something for me with it,” John says. He holds onto the fry for another second, then puts it down when he realizes he’s moving towards his mouth in spite of himself. Then he picks it back up again, because damn it, but they are just too tasty to leave. “And they did that because of how they’re interested in Stiles, and I didn’t just marry my kid to them, did I?”“Oh.” Chris momentarily looks relieved, and then he settles back and starts eating. “No, they don’t work like that. If they were gifting to you, Stiles still gets a say and all, they’re just…hoping you’ll be nice about things.”John lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and then…nibbles the fry. “Okay. Good. That’s fine. That’s…well, guess this is better than the rabbit I suggested, anyway.”“Glad to hear it,” Chris says, looking up. “Wasn’t sure the recipe would work out, it’s been handed down in the family but I never bothered trying till now.”And sure, he looks pleased…and pleased, and maybe he and John don’t chat the way that some people go on, but John’s getting pretty decent about reading the man now and there’s just something extra in how satisfied Chris looks. Something that makes John put the fry down again. “So what’s it mean that you’re digging up every recipe in the family cookbook for me?”Chris looks up again and his expression is far too bland. “We don’t have a cookbook,” he says after a second. “It’s all memorized. Lot more portable that way.”“That’s not what I mean,” John says, poking at his food. Then he pushes back some from the table, hard enough to make Chris start a bit. “Look, I like it—I like the food, and even if I don’t need the—the service, I—I appreciate the effort, but it’s just—I thought you said you didn’t think you’d be staying my cook.”“I said I wasn’t planning on it, but I don’t mind it, turns out,” Chris says, shrugging. He puts down his knife and fork. “And I’m good at it, aren’t I?”“Did you think I was going to fire you?” John says.A flicker of exasperation goes through Chris’ face. Then another flicker, a slower-burning but ultimately hotter one, as John hooks one foot around the leg of Chris’ chair and jerks that around so when they stand up, John can just step forward and walk right up against Chris.“No, but I wasn’t sure if you were thinking I had better things to do, when like I said, I like it and I don’t mind it,” Chris says, in between kisses. His hands find their way to John’s hips, and then one slides further around to clutch in the back of John’s shirt as they start running into the table, rattling plates and mugs. “And if you’re not going to say, guess I have to and hell if anybody else is going to do it for you, not if you’re going to make me your back-up and—”“Oh,” John mutters around Chris’ lower lip, which he’s sucking. “Yeah. All right, sounds fine to me.”Chris hits him once on the shoulder. And complains about the wasted food a couple hours later, when they make it back from the bedroom and find the plates still sitting there, grease congealed into unappealing whitish streaks across the remaining portions. John reminds him that they’ve still got plenty of potatoes to work through and Chris hits him again and…Anyway. John’s a shit cook but he is a great eater. So it works out.
10342959	Flowers For Dummies	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Robbie Rotten, Sportacus (LazyTown), Stephanie Meanswell, Trixie (LazyTown), Pixel (LazyTown), Stingy (LazyTown), Ziggy (LazyTown), Original Female Character(s)", "Fandom": "LazyTown", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by voidofthestars", "chapters": "1/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-17T00:00:00", "words": "3,650", "Additional Tags": "Romance, Flowers, Mutual Pining, not that they know it, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Elf Sportacus (LazyTown), sport try to not be a mess for all of ten minutes please, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Soft Robbie, both of the are useless suckers", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Robbie Rotten/Sportacus, Stephanie Meanswell & Sportacus, Robbie Rotten & Sportacus, Stephanie Meanswell & Robbie Rotten & Sportacus", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	In all honesty, it wasn't his fault. In hindsight he probably could have done this better but, 20/20 and all that. Granted hindsight never helped anyone stuck in a pit trap but well what could he do about it now. He really shouldn't have been quite so enthusiastic about the flowers but how could he have thought that he'd end up here? ------- It really all started with the sight of Stephanie walking around with a small bouquet of flowers.Sportacus cartwheeled his way over to her from where he had been doing handstand pushups on a bench. "Hello, Stephanie! What do you have there?""Hi, Sportacus! These are for my uncle. They're called bellflowers. In school, we're learning about flowers and their meanings and these mean unwavering love! So I figured I should get them for him! But I wanted to show Ms. Clarisse before I gave them to him." She said cheerfully, holding them out to the sports elf for him to see."Ah, they're very pretty! He'll love them." He said with a big smile."I'm glad. The florist was super nice and had all kinds of flowers!" Holding the flowers in one hand, she dug through her bag with her other hand, pulling out a gray book."My book said that you can use flowers to send secret messages or even to tell someone how much you love them. It's super neat!" She added an overblown wink at the last part, wide grin splitting her face.Sportacus couldn't help the slow flush that spread over the part of his ears that showed and down the back of his neck. He still didn't know exactly how she had managed to convince him to spill his incredibly embarrassing secret to her. That he, 'slightly-above-average hero' had a massive crush on one Robbie Rotten, Villian Number One and Master of Disguise.Even thinking about the other man had a tingling building in his fingers, and a nervous energy fill him, making him want to move more than usual, not to mention the way his heart raced."Stephanie, please." He sighed heavily. He had told her before he wasn't interested in doing anything with his 'little' crush. Her smile faded a little but she still handed him the book."Well, either way, it's really neat! Here, you should flip through it! Remember, you gotta exercise your brain and your body." As he took it from her, she shrugged a little and readjusted the plant in her hands."I'm gonna go meet up with Trixie to walk to school and help her come up with flowers to give to someone. Bye bye, Sportacus!" And with that, she went skipping off towards the school.He couldn't help but chuckle at her antics, as he looked down at the book in his hands. "All Encompassing Language of Flowers, huh. Well, learning all you can is important."His crystal hadn't gone off, what with the kids working on their projects and in school, and it was a lovely day, so he didn't see any issue with taking a bit of time to maybe read a few pages while exercising.The book was actually really neat. It talked about obviously various flowers but also where the flowers and plants first were discovered, uses in non-traditional ways, and even some extinct species.By the time he had gotten the A's and halfway into the B's, he had switched from crunches to push-ups, absently counting out loud when a shadow fell over him."Wow, Sportanerd I didn't know you could read. Looks like you do have more going for you than just big muscles and a nice face." A scathing voice said from above him.Instantly he dropped flat in order to hide both the book and his red face. Robbie. Of course, it was him and of course, he'd show up when Sportacus was doing something silly and unimpressive like reading a book on flowers. (completely disregarding the fact he was doing push ups using only one hand and one foot).He flipped up onto his feet, tucking the book out of sight. He nervously tugged on his bracers and smiled up at the tall man who stood slouching next to him, unfairly nice eyebrows arched and a haughty look on his face, arms crossed."Ah, and um, what are you doing out and about, Robbie?" And he immediately regrets opening his stupid useless mouth, because wow does it sound like he didn't want to see him or that he was suspicious of him being out in the middle of the day.Sure enough, the expression on his face slipped into a more neutral one. "Well I was going to the store for something but apparently I'm not even allowed to do that, all because I'm too much of a villain." He sneered, turning on his heel to leave."Ah no that's not what I meant! It's nice to see you out in the middle of the day is all." Sportacus rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, scrambling for something to say without sounding like a complete idiot. "Do you have any schemes for today?"Robbie snorted, a sound that normally Sportacus couldn't stand but his crush made it sound so.... elegant. "Like I would ever reveal my plans to you just because you asked. That wouldn't be very dastardly of me know would it?"And with that Robbie stalked off, leaving Sportacus to drop his head into his hands and groan, because yet again he screwed up a simple conversation. 'If only Móðir could see me now.' He thought despairingly, sitting back down on the ground, trying to resist the urge to whack himself in the head with the darn book."He said I had a nice face." He said quietly to himself after a few moments, a wide smile starting to overtake said nice face as he pressed the book to his forehead, hiding behind it. After a moment he opened his eyes and stared at the cover, taking in the pale pink roses on the front."Maybe Steph has the right idea. What could it hurt to leave him flowers? It's not like he would know who it was if I just left it on his doorstep." He reasoned with himself, ignoring just how ridiculous it was.With this, admittedly not well thought out, plan in mind he shoved the book into his bag and flipped to his feet.Doing a few stretches he began doing cartwheels and flips in towards the center of town, a plan slowly sliding together in his head. -- He landed in front of the florist with a light humph, not used to carrying around books in his backpack and the unusual weight was throwing him off a bit.The storefront was actually rather new, one of the first buildings to be occupied since he had arrived in town about a year and a half ago.The pale green door stood out against the bright yellow of the siding and the white sign declaring "Lani's Lovelies" in purple with various flowers around it."How cute!" He said with a smile as he pushed open the door.There was a little tinkling sound from the bells above the door as it opened, but Sportacus was more distracted by the immense amount of flowers.Everywhere he looked, flowers grew from pots or sat in water along the walls. Bright pinks and deep reds and purples filled the room as the various scents flooded his senses making him blink."Ello! Welcome to Lani's! What can I get for you?" A peppy voice came from behind a large wall of flowers near the back."Um yes please." He answered, slowly making his way back towards the voice, doing his best not to trip over any plants on the floor.He rounded the corner to see a short dark skinned woman with blue and purple hair piled on top of her head and wearing a pair of dark jeans and a ratty green shirt come out carrying a large bouquet of flowers. "Just a tick love and I'll be right there!"She bustled over to a counter and made some room for the plants to rest. Wiping her hands on her apron, she turned and smiled at him."Now then that's taken care of, let me introduce myself. I'm Lani and I run this little store. And what can I do for you, sweetheart?" She asked, seemingly ignoring the fact she had the local hero in her shop when no one needed saving.Here Sportacus flushed lightly and fiddled with his hat, tugging it lightly down over his ears farther."I uh, just need some flowers? For someone important. But I need it to be kind of quiet about it." He said, regretting his reckless decision to come down here without changing out of his uniform. He does have normal clothes, just saving people is easier in his gear."Ah. a special secret someone is it? That's fine dearest, very few people actually come in here. Too new of a store for the interest to be high." She laughed lightly. "And don't you worry I don't even need to know who it is so you can keep your special someone to yourself."She walked over to the counter and leaned up against it, pushing some of the hair that had escaped from her bun out of her face. Sportacus followed her, still with the faintest hint of red on his face."There's no need to be embarrassed about it. Flowers are a good way to tell someone you care about them. Also, who doesn't like getting flowers, right?" Lani, as her name was, planted her hands on her hips and stretched backward, then cracked her knuckles. "Also don't feel like you have to stand in place for too long. I know there's not a lot of room but you can go ahead and do what you need to."Sportacus flinched at the sound then shrugged. "Very true." Here he paused before starting to jog in place, hoping to take his now nervous mind off of the idea that he was going to actually go through with his plan of giving into his ridiculous crush and giving Robbie flowers like an elfling."Okay, well...he doesn't exactly know I like him. I'm pretty sure he hates me or at the very least dislikes me. I have a stupid crush on him and everything he does is cute and adorable even when it shouldn't be either of those and I just need to tell him without actually telling him and Stephanie said she had gotten flowers from you for her uncle and so here I am." He said in all one breath, sighing at the end before breathing deeply and slouching all while still jogging in place.Lani blinked before nodding once, sharp and quick. "Now that does sound like a serious dilemma. Now let me see what kinda flowers I have for a situation like that." She turned on her heel to inspect a book that was propped up on a stand.She flipped through the book for a minute, stopping occasionally to hum lightly."Ah yes perfect: Gardenias, daffodils, and honeysuckle, and maybe a few purple lilacs as well." She said, disappearing into the back for a moment before coming back out with various flowers in hand.After about ten minutes of fiddling with the flowers and various other things Sportacus wasn't entirely sure what exactly they were, she was finished and had tied a pale pink ribbon around it.Lani handed him the bundle, pointing to various ones as she explained. "Gardenias for secret love and joy, daffodils say new beginnings and 'return my affections'. Honeysuckle says devoted affection while purple lilacs are for first love."In a what was quickly becoming an unfortunate pattern of his day, Sportacus felt a blush start up again as he took the flowers in hand. "Ah thank you very much! How much do I owe you for this?" Regardless of how embarrassed he was, his mother did manage to beat some form of manners into his head.Lani shook her head and smiled. "Nothing at all sweetheart! Consider me a sucker for romance and first crushes and all that. Not to mention, but Number Nine saved me once. I figured I owe her."He blinked at the casual mention of his mother but smiled back anyway, cradling the flowers in his hands. "Well, thank you again, Miss Lani I really appreciate this.""Ah, don't you worry about it! I hope you get the guy!" She said, waving as he left the building, still smiling. --- Now that he had the flowers, Sportacus had only one problem. (well he had more than one problem, but this was the most important and most current one he had to deal with in relation to his whole crush thing)But the current issue was how to give Robbie the flowers. He hung upside down from a tree branch, bouquet safely stored in his bag down on the ground, doing hanging sit-ups as he thought.It wasn't like he could just walk up and hand Robbie the flowers without risking looking like a dork. He could barely handle talking to Robbie, Gods only knew how bad he'd screw it up if he actually attempted something like asking him out."Best case scenario, Robbie says that he's not interested and isn't into me that way and things are awkward for a while." He spoke aloud, the pace increasing as he went. "And of course the worst case is he laughs and thinks I'm disgusting and he'll never speak to me again and then I'll definitely have to leave town."He laughed nervously before back flipping off the branch and landing in a handstand next to the bag then cartwheeled over to the wall to begin hand-walking across it."Maybe I could just leave them on his doorstep? No that's stupid it wouldn't work." He muttered, turning from cartwheels to handstands to flips as he thought about his next step."What if he doesn't even know what they mean? Then again maybe that wouldn't matter?" Between the flower shop and all the thinking and exercise, he must have lost track of time, because apparently, he had missed school letting out.Hi, Sportacus!! What are you doing?" Caught in a handstand, Sportacus jerked a little before doing a handspring off the way to landed near the kids. Sticking the landing, he waved at Ziggy who had called out to him."I'm just doing some thinking. Anyway! How was school guys?" He asked, jogging over to his backpack, scooping it up and putting it on while he walked with the kids.They all began talking at once, Stingy and Trixie as always competing, talking over each other, Pixel with one hand on his game system and the other holding Ziggy's hand as the younger boy sucked on what was hopefully only his second or even better, the first lollipop of the day.Meanwhile, Stephanie skipped along, humming one of her songs as she went. She was the only one that wasn't trying to talk to him over the others but instead she seemed to be simply enjoying the day."I'm glad everyone had a good day! It sounds like you all had loads of fun!" He smiled and laughed, arms thrown open wide while he spun in a circle, delighting in the sounds of their giggles.While they walked over to the park, Ziggy left Pixel's side to come up and hold onto Sportacus's hand instead. "What did you do today, Sportacus?" The little boy asked, a sticky grin on his face."My usual, Ziggy! I did my exercises, and read a good book!" He answered, only for Trixie to speak up from the back where she'd been bickering with Stingy."So what are we gonna play today Sportacus?" She asked, setting the rest of the kids into another round of chatting and giggling."I don't know, but I know you guys need to do your homework before any playing happens okay? So we'll go into the center and do it there okay?" He said, scooping up Ziggy and setting him on his shoulder, laughing to himself when Stingy immediately tried to scramble up on the other side."Well, what are you gonna doing then?" Stephanie asked a mildly concerning look in her eye like she knew what exactly he had to do. Not that he would put it past her, she was a brilliant girl, not to mention she had a terrible habit of reading him."Just one last lap around the town to make sure everything is okay and then I'll come back to help with homework okay? But you guys need to make an attempt at whatever you can amongst yourselves." He said as they finally reached the town center near Robbie's old ice cream stand. Thankfully he wasn't there today so Sportacus didn't have to worry about looking like an even bigger idiot than usual.The kids all groaned and made protesting noises even as Stingy and Ziggy dismounted with help. However, they did all find places to sit with their bags and at least make an attempt on starting their homework."Alright! I'll be back in a jiffy!" With that, he posed and flipped away. Trixie and Stephanie shared a look and giggled amongst themselves much to the confusion of Pixel and Stingy, while Ziggy shrugged and continued to fill in his worksheet.Meanwhile, Sportacus made his way across town towards Robbie's house that he had been given. He had thought he had caught a glimpse of Robbie's lanky figure lying across a bench so he figured he had a good chance of not being spotted when he dropped these off on his porch.Robbie had been given the house about a year ago when the kids all banded together to protest the fact that Robbie only lived in the bunker instead of an actual house. Robbie, despite him snapping and growl about how he didn't need charity, had looked touched and thankful for their kind words and had smiled wide and thanked them anyway. Now that he thought about it, that may have been Sportacus's first step of falling in love with the so-called villain.Either way, love or not he was on a mission. it was rather simple due to the fact he had, well not given up but more redirected his efforts towards not chickening out of simply leaving the darn things on Robbie's doorstep.Finally making it to the purple mailbox marking the house, Sportacus stood on the porch and heaved a deep breath before pulling his pack off his shoulders in order to reach inside it.Pulling out the small bouquet of white flowers with the lilacs being the only spot of color in the center, he took the chance to press his face in close and inhaled the gentle smell before placing them on the doorstep.It was surprisingly easy to set the flowers down but it was much harder to walk away and not pick them back up in a weak attempt to save face. He just had to remind himself that no one would actually know it was him who left the flowers. Also to stop looking back towards the things to check that they were still there.He forced himself to jog away, going into cartwheels to handsprings and other such things as he went. 'It's too late to do anything about it now. I'll just have to deal with it.' He thought, forcing himself to not look back and to keep heading into the center to help the kids like he promised.Hopefully, that would distract him from what he had done and stop him from fretting. ---- Meanwhile, after Sportacus had finally dragged himself away and the children had made enough progress on their homework to be granted a break that was spent running and laughing, Robbie wandered back to what he had begun to consider his home even more so than his lair.He had been woken up, yet again may he point out, by those brats and he figured the best option was to just go work on one of his inventions or maybe even make a new disguise or outfit, anything to keep himself awake.He finally managed to make it onto his own porch, shaking the beginnings of a headache away, only to stop at the glimpse of color he saw.Someone had left a bundle of flowers in front his door. He blinked for a moment unmoving before he bent over and scooped them up, clutching them to his chest.Two kinds of white flowers, one of which was daffodils and the other one he couldn't name, purple lilacs intermixed in those, all surrounded and wrapped with honeysuckles.Lifting the flowers to his face, he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he let the scent filled his senses. Pulling the bouquet away from his face he smiled and sighed."Well, I'll be damned. He actually did it." He said quietly just standing there in full view of the town like a dopey empty headed fool.Shaking himself he tucked the flowers into one arm and unlocked his door and went inside. Just before he closed the door he turned to look up over the town to eye the bull airship floating in the air, watching over the little town.Gaze dropping once more back to his flowers, smile still firmly affixed to his face. "Let's see what else you can come up with. And to see just exactly what these mean to you." He said, spinning on his heel to march inside to find a vase and eagerly await his next gift.
10328537	suns first light	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers, Hank Henshaw \| J'onn J'onzz, Cat Grant, Jimmy Olsen, Winn Schott Jr., Krypto", "Fandom": "Supergirl (TV 2015)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "4/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-16T00:00:00", "words": "7,295", "Additional Tags": "Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Superfamily", "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 }	He’s small.That’s the first thing that runs through her mind when she sees the small- oh, he’s so small- bundle in Alex’s arms.He’s so tiny. Kara makes sure to keep her hands open wide, steps slow as she follows Alex to the medical room. She gives her sister a wide berth as she walks around the room.“We’re just gonna run a few tests. Okay?” Kara stares down at the small, small dog on the too big table. “Kara,” hands settle on her shoulders, and oh, Alex’s eyes are soft and concerned, “okay?” “Yep. Good, great I mean. Thank you.”Alex studies her for a second before her hands fall away with a last squeeze. “Is he from Krypton?”“Yes,” Kara answers immediately. The heat of the pod still burning away at her fingertips, her family’s crest etched into its side. She clears her throat, “He is.”“It doesn’t look like he has any powers right now.”Kara sighs, chin skimming over her chest when she bows her head. That’s what she was, is afraid of. She could tell immediately from the way he had stumbled around, the earth not caving under fumbling paws.(Her chest ached.Her fingers itched with the need to hold him, to have this last part of Krypton in her palms, but she couldn’t. Things tear and snap and break in her hands. She couldn’t bear to see that happen again to another piece of Krypton.)“What’s wrong?” Alex scratches under his chin, bright blue eyes blinking slowly up at them. “Do you recognize him?”“No, no.” Kara tilts her head and squints her eyes, trying to push past the fuzzy memories. “Well, I don’t- I know Jor-El was trying-” Kara shakes her head. “He wanted to send something that could help me protect Kal-El, but he’s, he’s a puppy.”“Sometimes things don’t go according to plan though.”(Kara thinks of hurried footsteps and hands urging her out of her bed. Hushed whispers of you must leave. Of silence and darkness and nothingness for twenty four years.She thinks of herself, looks at the puppy- too young, too late- and agrees.)Alex smiles. “We always wanted a dog.” A sob burns at her lungs, wiggles through her chest and up her throat, because she’s scared and worried but Alex said we and she’s here. Their shoulders brush as Alex shifts closer. “Come here.”“He’s so small Alex.”“I know, I know. Hands on mine, remember?” Kara forces out a strained breath, easing her hand over Alex’s as she pets him, adjusts the pressure she applies until Alex nods and moves away.Kara runs a finger over his head, nails scratching lightly behind a flopped ear. “He’s so cute,” she breathes.He looks so out of place amidst the cold and sharp lines of the DEO. She knows what it’s like to be poked and prodded when it doesn’t feel like the right place, the right time.She gently scoops him up. “Gosh, he’s light too.” His nose is featherlight against the crook of her elbow, snuffing against her arm. “That tickles little guy,” she coos, smoothing a thumb down his head.There’s a knock against the glass, J'onn stepping in with a curious look. “Report.”“Well, he’s definitely from Krypton. No powers as of yet.”J'onn crosses his arms, but oh, there’s a softness to his movements before he relents and lays a careful hand on his head. “Do we have any idea how long it could be until they show up?”“None.” Alex shrugs. “Right now he’s just a regular puppy.”“And his name?”They both turn to her. It’s on the tip of her tongue, a murmur in the halls between her father and Jor-El. Eyes bluer than her mother’s hologram, bluer than the ice in the Fortress of Solitude stare at her. “Krypto.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “No.”All heads turn towards her, and Kara almost takes a step back. Almost.“Supergirl, I recommend he stay here.”“No,” she repeats again. Krypto’s heartbeat is a tiny patter against her hands. His fur shifting under her fingers as he breathes. “He’s Superman’s. Not the DEO’s.”“Who is currently off world at the moment.”Kara tilts up her head and hopes she looks as commanding as she usually does. Probably not. There’s the whole puppy in her arms thing, but- yeah, no. Probably not. She tips up her head, clenches her jaw. “Then he’s in my care for the time being.”“Supergirl,” J'onn starts again, shoulders rising but then they fall, a breath carried with them.“We don’t lock up people just for being aliens,” she insists.(That’s not quite true.J'onn may have turned things around from when the real Hank Henshaw was in charge, but that doesn’t mean that all the aliens he captured are free.Presumed to be dangerous, that’s what J'onn had said. Just for reacting when people came at them with guns and grenades and yelling.She goes down to different cells as often as she can, knowing more languages than even J'onn. To get their stories. To maybe set some down the path towards freedom. To separate the aliens who spit acid at her on sight from those who say they were frightened and alone with no place to go.She can understand that.)“First sign of powers, you bring him here for an update.”It’s not a question, but Kara’s still tempted to treat it like one. Fingers wrap around her elbow, just shy of brushing Krypto’s head. Alex shakes her head when she looks to the side. “Okay.” “Anything else sir?” She’s glad for Alex at her side, for taking over, because right now, her eyes are focused on oh, Krypto as he yawns against her arm.(He’s a puppy and tiny and fragile.As much as it frightens her though, it also feels like a breath of fresh air, before Krypton’s skies became so polluted.When it was still crisp and clean and whole.It feels like beginnings and new life all wrapped up in crystal clear, blue eyes.)J'onn sighs. “Just get some rest.” They both nod, steps falling into place at the same time until he stops them. “I mean it.” His chest is warm and solid under her ear when he pulls them close, rumbling when tells them, “promise me.”(She feels like she hasn’t stopped. Hasn’t stopped since Alex pulled her back, coldness nipping at her heels and creeping up on her in the middle of the night. Since she stood in Cat’s office and declared she wanted to be a reporter.Since they finally got the pod open to reveal a small, small dog that curls into her arms without a hint of fear.)“Only if you do the same.” J’onn rolls his eyes, Kara’s lips quirking upward at the sight. “You’re not in the position for commands Ms.Danvers.” He nods all the same, jerking his head to gesture down the hall. “Go.”Alex’s fingers tighten where they’ve wrapped around her arm and start pulling her. “Alex,” Kara holds up her arms, Krypto wiggling around for a moment before settling back again, “I don’t want to fly with him yet. Can you-”“Of course.” Kara traces the tip of Krypto’s nose. She blinks. “Oh.”“What? What’s wrong?” “We’re going to need so much food.” She doesn’t realize she was even tired until Alex’s hand shakes her awake. Krypto’s a light weight in her lap, warm against her legs. Alex frowns when she turns to her, but oh, it’s the affectionate one when Alex really isn’t all that mad. Kara loves that one, it’s soft and barely there as if Alex doesn’t even know she’s doing it. “I just cleaned those, jerk.” She points at the window where there’s a smear, blurred fingerprints against the side.“Sorry.” Alex mutters no, you’re not, and Kara grins. She looks around, sees the familiar rise of buildings and flickering streetlight. “Wait, wait, we didn’t get the stuff.” “Way to go for that vocabulary,” Kara brushes her knuckles against Alex’s shoulders just enough to nudge her, “don’t hit the driver!” Kara laughs, easing back into the seat. “I got it taken care of anyway, don’t worry about it.” “How do you know what a dog needs?” “Well I would have if someone pulled off the pout like she said she would-”“It’s been eight years. Let it go. I tried, but Eliza, she just- she knows.” “-besides, I called in reinforcements.” Kara freezes as Alex puts the car in park. “Out. I’ve got to get back to work.” Alex holds her for a moment, stilling her so she can pet Krypto. “Welcome to the family little guy.” Her sister smiles, warm and tender, and oh, Kara’s hand scrambles over Alex’s shoulder to pull her into a hug. “I love you.” “Love you too.” Alex shoves at her. “Call me if you need me, okay?” Kara promises and slips from the car, bundling Krypto up in her jacket. She waits until she’s walking up the flight of stairs to her apartment to call Alex.“Kara? Is everything-” “Everything’s fine. Sorry, I didn’t mean to- I just wanted,” Kara sucks in a breath, “thank you.” (Alex hadn’t even flinched when they realized it was a pod from Krypton. But she had taken her hand and clasped it between her own. Had quietly assured her everything was fine, and they’d handle it. Together.Just like she always has.)Alex doesn’t reply, but Kara can still hear her heartbeat, too fast from her initial worry. She always picks through Kara’s words, finding meanings Kara didn’t even intend, and-“Always.” “About time Kara. I’m pretty sure your neighbor thought we broke in.” Winn shifts with his hand on the doorknob, her doorknob. “Which we did. Do I need to invite you in or” Kara sidesteps him, shouldering him out of the way. Her steps falter when she sees bag after bag taking over her kitchen. James pauses from unloading them, giving her a quick wave.“You’re the reinforcements?” “Don’t look so surprised.” James tilts his head and points to Winn. “Well, actually. Yeah, you can at him. He knew absolutely nothing.” “Not everyone had a happy family dog Olsen.” Winn squints down at Krypto. “You’re lucky I was there, because someone didn’t research the best options for food.” Kara looks over all the supplies, at James and Winn bickering and blinks up at the ceiling. She’s tired, oh, she’s so, so tired, and here they are.(When she had first seen her crest on the pod, she had thought that maybe, maybe it was-Her mother’s face flashed through her mind. Astra’s. Her father’s.-someone she had known, had loved.She still hasn’t quite managed to get a full breath of air since her finger traced over that crest.)James’ hand skims over her arm. “So you got a dog?” He looks to Winn, both of them shrugging. “That’s different?”Kara stares. “What did Alex tell you?”“Um, to get everything you’d need for a dog?” Winn pulls at the cuffs on his shirt. “I didn’t ask anything else, because well, it’s Alex, and she gets that,” Winn traces a frown on his face, “that look, you know the one. Even over the phone-” “He’s from Krypton.” Kara places him on the floor, opens up her palms wide and waves. “Meet Krypto.” Krypto totters around, claws clicking against her floor. Winn looks, Kara drops her head to the side, he looks a little like a fish out of water. “That’s- he’s an,” Winn leans far too close to her to whisper, “an alien dog?”“I guess that’s one way of putting it.” “Okay, cool. Cool. Just an alien.” Winn blanches. “Well you’re an alien, so an alien and her alien dog. I think I watched a sci-fi like that once.” “Winn,” James holds up his hand, “breathe dude.” He bends down slowly to kneel beside Krypto, smiling when Krypto makes his way slowly to him. “Hey there, Krypto.” James scrunches up his face, and oh, she can see him working through the details as if he’s studying one of his pictures. “Wait, he’s from- are you okay?” “Fine. I’m- it’s fine.” She gets the same look of disbelief from them both. “Show me what all you got.”Accepting her deflection for now, Winn steps clumsily over Krypto. “Okay, first we have the essentials. Leash to take him out. Collar and tags with your info.” Kara nods when he points to Krypto. “Oh, okay, you’re just gonna,” Krypto pushes his head into Winn’s hands as he snaps on the collar, “wow, you’re soft.”(She doesn’t point out that he’s going to go with Clark. That all of this will. They’re trying to be helpful, are being helpful and loving.Really, she doesn’t say it for them as much as she doesn’t for herself.)They forget what they’re doing, bags left unattended as they all crowd on the floor. A ball is rolled between them, Krypto stumbling after it. She closes her eyes, letting their laughter drown out the sounds of the city, of harsh, cutting noises. Their heartbeats a steady beat in her ears. She opens up her eyes when a warmth presses against her foot, Krypto blinking up at her before curling up. “Again? You sleep so much.”“Puppies do that.” James tugs Winn up before offering her a hand. She has to make sure her pressure is gentle to not send him through the floor, but she appreciates the gesture. “We’ll get out of here then.” “Thank you guys.” She pulls them both into a hug, squeezing as tight as she dares. “Really.” They leave after accepting her offer to pay for lunch- dinner’s too much Kara, we just got a few things- and then Kara’s left with a sleepy Krypto.“Okay,” she says, shifting Krypto to one arm as she grabs the small bed. “I guess we’ll just put this beside the bed. What do you think?” Her only answer is a huff against her arm. “Yeah, I don’t like it either. One night really couldn’t hurt.” James had said not to let him sleep in the bed or she’d never get him out of it, but really, it’s one night. One night where she just wants to curl up with Krypto who is almost looking annoyed as he peers down at the dog bed. “Our secret, okay?”Krypto fumbles across the blankets, spinning in place before Kara smooths a hand down his back. Spins once more before settling by her stomach.Kara drifts off with one hand on Krypto, little breaths coaxing the palm of her hand.Krypto’s not beside her.Kara wants to scramble, wants to jump up from the bed, but she doesn’t know where he is or if she would hurt him by moving, and oh, she should’ve listened to James. She moves slowly and listens in the apartment for- there it is. She finds Krypto sniffing around the couch before plopping down in front of the windows, moonlight pouring in.“What woke you up?” She listens again, and oh, there’s the- it’s not quite familiar, and doesn’t that make her stomach twist? but not unheard of either- heartbeat. Kara hums, scooping Krypto in her lap. “You don’t have superhearing yet” She tips up Krypto’s head with a gentle finger. “You know he’s here though, don’t you?” Kara leans back on her palms. “Did you ever play with him when he was a baby too? He would’ve liked a dog, I think.”(She thinks of hiding behind her hands and smiling as Kal-El’s giggles. Of trying to take care of him, to help until she fell asleep with him, barely hearing her mother’s chuckles at the scene, but oh, she always felt her hand sliding through her hair.Krypto would’ve been a welcomed addition.)The heartbeat’s closer now, along with a sound she knows better than breathing, of wind shifting and moving with them as they fly through the air. Blue and red appearing at the edge of her vision instantly.“Don’t just stand there creepily on my fire escape please.” “I was trying to sneak up.” Kara snorts at that. He was so loud. “You’re no better at that than when you were young.” Kal-El, Clark- Clark, she reminds herself as she stares up at their crest, meets eyes that are so, so much like Lara’s- winces. “I was a baby.”“I know.” She flashes a smile at him, “Hi.” “Hey.” She’s pulled under his arm, surprise crossing his features as Krypto shifts until he’s over both of them. “You’re the one causing so much fuss, huh?” “He’s really sweet and soft.” Kara turns and points to her kitchen. “There’s food and shampoo and- okay, I haven’t really looked, but a lot is there.” Clark is studying her, forehead creasing in a way that makes her wonder if it’s a family trait. “He sleeps a lot though. James said that’s normal. I googled it after he left just to make sure.” Clark ducks his head. “You think I’m here to take him.”Is that- is that a question or a statement? She knocks their shoulders together. “Well, yeah. Of course.”Clark rubs at his jaw, and oh, she wonders how many people have seen this, Superman stumbling and unsure. Lois for sure. Others though? Even she has only seen it a few times.(She always forgets that he’s infallible. That the great Superman can fall. That he needs help. He always turns it away, insisting and proving he should and can do it alone.It’s those times that she realizes Clark doesn’t know el mayarah so much as she wasn’t there to teach him.)“I can’t take him.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Krypto’s breaths are heavy against her hand. Warm and slow, she thinks he’s probably fallen asleep again. The street is quiet below. Too late- or early?- for people to be out and about.The lights are faded out when she looks outside. The city as close to silent as it can get to her.(She knows loud.Knows it’s Eliza’s hands that tugged down a blanket over her head, pressed headphones over her ears every day those first few weeks, and then at least once a week after. Jeremiah’s chest warm and solid under her cheek, heart thumping too fast, too fast, but they were trying to help.Always trying to help.)It’s quiet, but she still- she has to ask again, because she couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”Clark’s eyes are so, so blue even in the dark, and oh, they’re so similar to Lara’s. He grabs her hand, thumb smoothing down the back of hers to bring her attention back to him. It’s too late to be seeing ghosts in his eyes, in his movements tonight. “I can’t take him.”Krypto’s paw jumps against her leg, kicks out. She clears her throat, folds a hand over his head until he stills. “You can’t,” her jaw shuts tight. Too tight, too hard, too tense. She forces a breath out, pulling her hand away from Krypto just in case. “Why?”“I would like to.” He looks down at Krypto, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips. “Trust me.” (She wonders what he sees when he looks at Krypto.A chance to buildup the image of Krypton he has? Thoughts and ideas founded upon the robots and archives he searches through. The Krypton presented to him is cold and advanced. To him, to humans, Krypton is alien.Does he think the same of Krypto? Of her?)He leans back, frame too large for the place they’ve taken on the floor between the table and couch. She almost laughs at the picture of Superman hunched over on the floor, puppy curled near his side. “I’m off world so much. Or even when I am here, I’m protecting the city. I can’t-” He rubs at his jaw. “And if he develops powers? What then?”“We’ll deal with that when the time comes.” Clark shakes his head, sighs out Kara. “Clark, where else can he go?” (She almost says that he can’t go anywhere else.That there’s no one prepared to take on a super powered dog. No one who wants that burden. Other than them- or maybe just her.Then again, she wouldn’t have thought anyone would have wanted her either though, but there the Danvers were.)“The DEO. They’d be able to take care of him, and he’d be safe.” “He can’t live there Clark.” She thinks of cold tables and grey walls and barely lit corners. Of aliens locked up floor after floor. The sun only filtering in through the entrance and nowhere else. She squares her shoulders. “If you can’t take him, then he’s staying with me.” “Kara,” Clark’s voice is soft, almost pleading in a way and she thinks they’re just talking at each other. “You don’t have to,” he stresses. “It’s not an obligation.” She runs a finger down Krypto’s nose, smiles when it crinkles. He huffs a little at her fingertips, wriggles away. “He’s family.” “I looked to see if there was any information on him in the Fortress.” Clark smiles, and oh, that? That is Martha’s smile, friendly and content tucked away in the corners. “I can’t translate it completely,” Clark seems irritated by that, but for her, it strikes, cold and sharp, right at her heart, “but I think they had just started training him. Whatever he knows, you’ll probably only find out by speaking Kryptonian.” “I will.” She leans against Clark. “Thank you.” “No problem.” Clark pushes off the floor. “Okay.” He takes a step out to the escape, glances over his shoulder. “I’m here if you need me. You know that, right?”(He means it. His voice earnest and eyes gentle. But looking at him, halfway in her apartment as he steps out, she can’t help but think it’s a good depiction of them.Almost there in time. Almost raising him. Almost living with him, learning with him, teaching him. Almost.Almost but not quite.)“I know,” she murmurs back. “I’ll call you if I need you,” even though her hands itch for Alex’s presence beside her, unwavering faith in her where Clark is unsure. “Lois used to have a dog.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll see if she has any tips.” “I’ll call her up when he starts flying then.” He laughs, shoulders shaking in turn more for her than actually feeling the laugh. “I’m not sure what use we’ll be with that.”“Goodnight Clark.” “Night.” And then he’s gone, slipping off and into the air.Heart heavy- she presses a hand against her chest just to make sure it’s still there, because it feels like it’s dragging down- she scoops Krypto up and walks back to her bed.“Just one night,” she reminds him as he stumbles to the pillow she isn’t using and pads around before dropping down. (She texts Alex before she pulls the covers over her head.)The knocks on her door sound one hour later.Alex is muttering outside her door. Hands on her hips and foot tapping. “Hey, maybe next time don’t send me a text in mixed languages and then not reply.”Kara grimaces, glancing over to her phone to see it lighting up faintly. Kicking back the covers, she decides to float up rather than disturb Krypto. She just barely keeps her hand from slipping through his fur, looking incredibly fuzzy from where he’s sprawled out. She rummages through her drawers for Alex’s clothes, ignoring the tapping that’s steadily getting louder in her ears. Taking her time getting to the door, Alex is pacing by the time she opens it. “I fell asleep.”Alex makes an agreeing noise that really doesn’t? It doesn’t sound like she’s agreeing, more like she’s just humoring her. The narrowed eyes she gets cements that. Boxes are pressed into her hand as Alex takes the clothes from her hands. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only reason that pizza place is open 24 hours a day now.” She opens the box, breathing in the smell and sighs. “Did you know you’re my favorite sister?”“Yeah, yeah.” Alex takes one box and puts it in the fridge, waving off her grabbing hands. “No, it’s like four. One is enough. Save this one for breakfast.” “Fine.” She makes a point to grab the pizza Alex is reaching for, staring at her sister as she bites down. “Did you just get off work?” “Yes. And we,” Alex says pointing between the two of them, “are going to eat and talk and then I swear if you don’t go to sleep, I’m knocking you out.” “We can just go to sleep.” Alex’s movements are ranging from slow to jerky, blinking more than normal. “You’re tired.” “I’m also worried.” Her hand settles on the box and shuts it. “What happened?” “Nothing.” Alex shifts beside of her, hand grabbing hers and squeezing. She shuts her eyes, feels Alex breathing steadily beside her, hand warm in hers. “Clark came.” Alex’s face falls. “Okay,” she says slowly.(There’s always a hint of steel in Alex’s voice whenever they discuss Clark. She’s friendly enough but still reserved when it comes to them interacting. A boundary between the two that Kara isn’t sure can ever be mended.Alex’s hugs are always tighter after those visits.)Kara shoves the pizza away from her, nose crinkling at the scent. It was nice at first, familiar and comforting, but now, it’s too much. Alex’s breaths holding in her lungs longer than normal as her sister watches her warily. Krypto’s nails scratching against her sheets. It’s all pressing in on itself, and she just- she just wants to go to sleep. “Can we go lie down first?” “You okay?” Alex reaches out a hand, keeps it just shy from touching her arm until Kara leans into it. She nods, but it must be too jerky, too fast, because Alex’s frown twists deeper. “Come on.” She doesn’t think to use her speed. It’s dark and Alex is stumbling around and she follows clumsily after her. Sleeping feels odd now, a weird mix of wanting and needing it so desperately while avoid it at all costs.(She only remembers the chill. The cold biting at her fingertips until it spread and then- then it stopped, the numbness seeping into in its wake. There was warmth too though. Of being so close to Rao’s light, of knowing her family would be okay as her last glance was of the stars and the home she had made.She’s as conflicted now of it all as she was then. Waking up to wires and Alex’s face hovering over her and I got you, it’s okay. Waking up and knowing that she was happy there despite it all.)Alex’s boots scuff across her floor, harsh when she comes to a stop at her bed. “Krypto’s here.”Kara drops her chin to her chest. “I know, I know. James said not to let him sleep in the bed, but you try saying no to,” she throws up her hands and settles on pointing at Krypto, because oh, how does she describe him?“No, I mean,” Alex turns to her, brown eyes searching even though Kara’s half pressed to believe she can’t really see with the lack of light. “You said Clark came.” Alex’s heartbeat picks up, and oh, wow, that’s going to give her a headache. “Oh, Kara.” It’s said with so much sympathy that tears start welling up in her eyes before she can think to stop them. “It’s fine.” Alex presses her lips into a fine line, tilting her head. “I just- I’m glad he’s here. I just thought that maybe Clark would- or that we’d do it together.”Alex sighs, “I know.” She takes quiet steps towards Krypto and stares down. Doesn’t say anything for so long that Kara starts rocking on her heels, and it probably hasn’t been that long, but gosh, it feels like it. “So we don’t have to share him on weekends. I can work with this.”That startles a laugh from her. One she silences quickly when Krypto’s ears perk up. Alex takes her hand and pats at her knuckles once, twice. When Kara grins and shakes her hand, Alex rolls her eyes, pats it one last time. “We can do this. Me and you.” She looks to the ceiling. “And James and Winn. J’onn was definitely swooning at how cute Krypto is, don’t let him tell you different.”It’s as comforting as the hug Alex pulls her into. Tight and with so much love that she buries her face into Alex’s shoulder to brush away tears. “I love you.”“Love you.” Alex turns back to her bed, clicks her tongue. “He’s in my spot.” “He’s barely taking any room up, just share.” “Easy for you to say when it’s not your pillow he’s commandeered.” Kara shoves Alex down- keeps her hands open and fingers splayed, just enough pressure to tilt her sister forward- and pulls the covers over them both. “Don’t be a baby.”“I’m not.” “Well,” Kara starts coolly, “you could always just take it from him.” Knows her sister acts tough, but oh, every glance she directs towards Krypto softens immediately, her fingers stretching out as if to pet him. Alex freezes beside her. “I could if I wanted to,” she snaps, pinches at Kara’s side when she laughs, “but I’m not.”She coos, “You can’t take it from the cute little puppy.” Kara flops onto her back and throws a hand to her forehead. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” “Go to sleep Kara.” Kara waits for it, but when it doesn’t come, she pokes her finger into Alex’s side. “Goodnight, Alex.” “Goodnight.” Alex slaps her hand away and groans. “Now go to sleep. Please.” (She remembers it being the first routine the Danvers insisted on. While learning the time meals were- even though it changed so often it was more frustrating than securing- and that the popcorn wasn’t going to explode the microwave, goodnights were said every night.Even when they were all tired or busy. Especially on the nights there were fights. It was familiar and constant, and oh, it reminded her every night that she had a family again.Even when Jeremiah wasn’t there to say it as he pressed a kiss against her head like usual, they said it.)“Goodnight Krypto.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Krypto is right at her face.She wakes up to blue, blue eyes and a tongue slowly dragged across her cheek. It takes her a few, conflicting seconds to decide whether it’s gross or not before the pure adorableness of it gives way.“Hey Krypto.” She slides her fingers behind his ears to ease him closer, presses her nose into white fuzz. Laughs at the tiny tail thumping against her chest. “Good morning.”Alex’s hand slaps clumsily at her shoulder. “Stop being so loud.” Kara grins, reaches over to ruffle a hand through Alex’s hair until her wrist is caught. “Stop.”Krypto, oh, he’s so excited, stumbles over the sheets, nipping at one when a sheet tangles around one paw. Kara slips it free, and he bolts forward, stepping over every inch of Alex’s back as she tries to wriggle away from his cold nose. “Okay, okay.” Alex rolls over, holds Krypto up, “Hello to you too.” Her eyebrows jump when Krypto slides closer, finding a spot under her chin. “I guess this makes up for being woken up early. Not like I wanted to sleep in after work.”Kara freezes. “Oh, oh no.” She throws back the covers, barely remembering to turn around and stop Krypto from leaping off the bed. He squirms in her hands, jumps out as soon as he’s close to the ground. “I’ve got to get to work. Snapper doesn’t seem like the type to allow tardies.”“You’re not in middle school, Kara.”She snatches her pillow and throws it at Alex. “Late. Whatever.” Krypto’s paws press against her leg. She scoops him up gently, holds him close to her chest, receives another lick for her troubles. “Are you,” Krypto huffs against her neck when she stops scratching his ear, “are you okay here with him?”Alex holds out an arm, taking Krypto when she offers him and placing him back on the bed but then she tugs Kara closer, hugs her tight. “We’re fine. Go show Snapper who he’s messing with.”“Okay, but there’s- there’s food in the kitchen and,” she knots her fingers together, twists. “There’s toys if he gets bored- he will- and his leash is hanging by the door.”“Kara,” now Alex’s hands are pushing her away, “we’re fine. Go.”“I’m going, I’m going.”Kara presses a quick kiss against Krypto’s head and then Alex’s, nudging Krypto away from the edge. “I’ll come home when I get a break.”Krypto scrambles after her when she steps away, and oh, she shouldn’t be wasting so much time but is it really a waste when he’s looking at her like that? “I’ll be back Krypto.” She smooths a hand down his back, “I promise.”(She ignores Alex’s concerned look and shrugs on her jacket.)Krypto stares at her once Kara leaves.She tugs the covers over her head, but she can still tell he’s there and she bets he’s staring.“You’re weird.” Krypto nips at her hand, rolls over as he? wrestles with her hand. She’s not really sure. “Cute,” she amends quietly. She jabs a finger in his direction, “Don’t tell anyone that.” It only earns her a tilted head, one ear flopping just so at the tip, and oh, the jerk her heart makes should not happen.Krypto flops around on the bed, jumps on her foot when she moves it under the covers. “Okay,” she starts, scooping him up and placing him on the floor. “I’m going to sleep, and you,” she lightly taps at his nose, bites her lip to stop the smile from slipping onto her face when he looks down his nose, “you are going to be good, right?”She gets two minutes before she hears a scraping. “Krypto,” she calls. It stops. She breathes a relieved sigh, shrugs back under the covers and-It sounds again.“Come on.” She rolls out of the bed, eyes squinting when Krypto comes scrambling around the couch. “What are you doing?” He blinks up at her, tail wagging. “Don’t give me that look.”She- she is a trained agent, and a literal puppy look isn’t going to break her. Even though she’s tempted to just run her hand through his fur, she’s not. She’s not.She’s lived through Kara’s blue eyes blinking innocently at her and found her fridge empty afterwards. She knows this game. She acts like she’s walking back to the bed, looks over her shoulder once she hears Krypto start padding back around the couch.Stepping quietly, she peers over the couch as Krypto trots happily over to the coffee table. He walks around it once, twice- bites it. She waits a moment to see if he’ll realize that maybe it’s not the best idea, but nope, he just keeps gnawing on it.“Why-” Alex picks him up, “Why would you even? It’s wood dude. Don’t do that.”He squiggles between her hands, darts forward to lick her nose. “That either.” He does it again. She grins despite herself, rubs her face against his stomach and laughs when he puffs against her hair.(He’s so small.Kara had moved so slowly around him. Fingers splayed wide whenever she pets him, and arms loose whenever she holds him.He’s so small and her sister is so worried, and oh does she realize she even speaks quieter around him?)She wakes up on the couch. She goes to pet Krypto, her hand landing on her own stomach. “Krypto?” She’s fairly sure she fell asleep with a dog on her and now, he’s nowhere. (Her throat itches, fear pricking up through her chest, makes her hands clench.He can get hurt. The sun not yet filling the spaces in between his cells, strengthening them. And if he gets hurt- she thinks of Kara, and oh, they both are making a habit of causing her blood pressure to raise.)“Krypto,” she calls again, tries to make it stern enough to get an answer but not enough to scare him. “Where are you?” She looks around the room, gets on her knees to look under the table, under the couch.Krypto barks.From above her.She slowly looks up and her jaw drops. Krypto’s paws scramble furiously in the air, barely making headway as he drifts around. He falls a few feet, Alex getting her feet under her to jump in place, but then he’s swooping back up.“Okay, okay. Just,” she holds out her hand, and oh, no one else has to worry whether or not their superpowered dog is superpowered enough yet to be okay if he falls. She jams her hand into her pocket and fishes out her cellphone, hitting Kara’s number.“Hey!”“Kara,” she starts slowly, tries to breathe evenly to slow her racing heart, because if Kara hears it, she’ll worry and won’t think before flying halfway across the city. “Don’t panic-”“What happened?” Kara sounds the exact opposite of what she asked.“We’re all fine,” she hurries. “It’s just- can you stop by anytime soon?”“One sec.”There are times when she’s still so shocked by Kara and her powers, and when she can tell her sister actually means one second, it’s one of those times. There’s a shift in the air, and then Kara’s in front of her, one arm reaching back to keep her in place. “What’s wrong?” She looks around, “Where’s Krypto?”Alex reaches around and tips up Kara’s jaw, watching as Kara’s arms go slack to her sides. “He’s-”“Yeah.”“Alright then.” Kara’s voice a mixture of concern, but oh, there’s excitement there. Kara floats up and wraps her arms around him, murmuring to him. (It had taken year after year of practice before she could even make a fraction of the right sounds that flowed from Kara so easily.But after so long, she had finally thought she was comfortable with Kryptonian. Hearing Kara speak to Krypto though, fast but still smooth, she realizes that maybe Kara had finally just started to accept that it was the best she would hear. Alex’s slow and hesitant speech.Maybe Kara had accepted that she would be the last true speaker.)“You fly so well,” Kara coos to him, finger rubbing his belly. Krypto is limp in her grip, tail wagging as he receives all of Kara’s attention, and Alex rolls her eyes. Kara’s grinning brightly, and oh, it settles firmly at her heart.She clears her throat. “We need to take him to the DEO.” Kara holds him tight to her chest, taking a step back. “Just to make sure everything is okay. J’onn will want an update.”“It shouldn’t matter to them.”Alex runs a hand through her hair, tries not to get frustrated. “I know, but they- we,” she stresses, “keep tabs on aliens. If you want him to be here without any trouble, we just need to follow protocol.”Kara sighs, her shoulders dropping with the force of it. “I know.” She shrugs. “I still don’t like it though.”“Do you want me to take him?” Kara raises an eyebrow in question. “So you can go back to work,” she clarifies.“I’m done for the day. I’ve got to write up an interview I did,” Kara mumbles as she places Krypto down to spin back into her regular clothes. “You got an interview already?” Kara nods, a shy smile that betrays the cool voice she’s trying to keep. “Kara, that’s great.” Pride warms her chest, flows outward as she throws an arm around Kara’s shoulders. “How’d it go?”“Mm,” Kara fidgets for a moment, stamps her foot down, “good? I think. We’ll talk about it later.” Alex squints at that, eyes the flush crawling up Kara’s throat until Kara clamps her hands over it. She clears her throat. “Let’s just get Krypto taken care of first.” They try getting Krypto into the carrier, but after one too many bites that don’t hurt- the whines Krypto lets out look like it’s physically hurting Kara- Kara decides just to let him sit at her feet.Which immediately becomes her lap when he jumps at her knees until she picks him up. Kara rolls down the window, and oh, it must be a universal given that dogs stick their heads out, because Krypto does it instantly.It’s such a ridiculous image, Krypto’s little legs stretched out so he can look out the window with Kara smiling right behind him.Alex loves it.J’onn stares down at Krypto in her hands. “He flew?”“Sorta?” She looks to Alex, sees her nod. “It looked more just floating, but he was definitely getting the hang of it.”“Great,” J’onn replies. She tilts her head, because his tone suggest that it maybe it isn’t so great. “Can he do it by choice or?”“He stopped when I asked him to come down.” They both glance over their shoulders to her as they walk to the lab. “What? He did.”She hops up on the table with Krypto in her lap. He’s too small by himself on the table, it feels too sterile. The way he leans into her makes her think he likes it better than when he was shrinking away from the table by himself. “It’s okay,” she soothes as Alex places wires around them. “Oh.” She reaches into her jacket and pulls out her bagel. Unwrapping it, she breaks off a piece and holds it to Krypto.J’onn grunts, “I read that they shouldn’t have have certain foods.”She lets a foolish grin grow, lips curling upwards. “You looked up things for him?” Alex snorts behind her computer until Kara aims a kick at her. “That’s so sweet J’onn.”He crosses his arms, shifts his weight to the side. “You’re missing the point.”“He’s got powers now. What can some food hurt?”“I could have two things after my food now,” Alex quips. Kara kicks her again before she can lean away. Smiles sweetly when J’onn steps between them.“Girls.”“Thank you, J’onn.” Before he can go further with his disapproving look, she presses forward. “For looking out for him.” She racks her brain, wondering if she’s doing it right as she presses a fist over her chest. For us, she mouths, tapping her chest.J’onn’s hand is heavy, but oh, it’s nice at her knee as he pats it. “Zhindif.” He scratches at his jaw, makes a point of looking around the room to avoid her- she’s sure- watery eyes. “What’s the report Danvers?”“He’s perfectly healthy.” Alex tips her head to the side. “Just he can fly now, at least. He’ll probably start eating more.”“A plan needs to be made for when you’re at work. As Supergirl or,” J’onn falters, looks to her. “Reporter,” she supplies.“Oh.” He nods to himself and then her, “It suits you.”(Zhindif.There’s a warmth that slips down her shoulders, leaves her fingertips buzzing at their acceptance, their support. A hand at her shoulder, on her knee. Both of them at her side, she knows she can count on their presences. A laugh and a small smile that’s constantly trying to be hidden away but oh, when she sees it, she feels so, so lucky.Always.)
10366161	Palatka dlia zhalob-2	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "John Silver, Captain Flint (Black Sails), \"Calico\" Jack Rackham, Miranda Barlow, Madi (Black Sails), Anne Bonny", "Fandom": "Black Sails", "Language": "Русский", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by rose_rose (Escargot)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-19T00:00:00", "words": "1,207", "Additional Tags": "Post-Season/Series 03, Alternate Universe - Crack, Pirate Problems, Crack and Angst", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Captain Flint/John Silver, Anne Bonny & \"Calico\" Jack Rackham", "Series": "Палатки", "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 }	Первые три дня после боя за испанское золото — для боя, как и для острова маронов, на котором они находятся, хорошо бы придумать названия получше, — Сильвер проводит следующим образом: военный совет — одна штука; запутанные внутренние монологи, сплошь о Флинте, с использованием непривычного количества метафор из греческой и библейской мифологии — не меньше ста штук; секс, вопреки предостережениям и тревожным знакам отовсюду, — больше, чем можно было себе вообразить. Тоже с Флинтом.На четвертый день к ним в палатку — хм… к Флинту в палатку — без приглашения является Джек Рэкхем. Он усаживается между ними на импровизированное ложе и заявляет: — Джентльмены, нам абсолютно необходима палатка для траха.(Военный совет, кстати, проходил так: несколько мгновений они стояли вокруг стола в неловком молчании, пока Сильвер наконец не спросил: «Кто будет говорить первым? Ты… или я?»)— Под палаткой для траха я подразумеваю палатку, где будет с кем потрахаться матросам, — продолжает Джек, делая вид, что не замечает, как Флинт вертит в руках пистолет, — а не палатку, где трахаетесь вы, джентльмены.— Что, Энн не дает? — Джек кидает на Флинта недовольный взгляд, и тот тянется за рубашкой. — Есть предложения?Различные люди — некоторые из них весьма раздосадованные — уже довели до их сведения, что остров маронов несколько отличается от Нью-Провиденса. Иными словами, горячие красотки не выстраиваются в очередь, чтобы осчастливить моряков, — и вряд ли выстроятся в обозримом будущем, и почему-то многих это удивляет. Содомия наступает. Ха-ха, прямо в рифму.— Шлюхами занимается Тич, — в конце концов заявляет Флинт, решив, по всей видимости, что нет смысла убивать того, кто и так вот-вот провалит затею с палаткой для траха: это будет милосердием, а не наказанием.— Занимался… до сегодняшнего утра. Теперь он вновь свалил это на меня, — вздыхает Джек. — Я скучаю по Макс. Она умела все организовывать. Только не говорите Энн, что я это сказал.— Я нем, как моя совесть, — обещает Сильвер.Флинт кидает на него заинтересованный взгляд: — А что, у тебя есть совесть?— Она как вторая «н» в слове «агония» — о ней мало кто знает.— В слове «агония» нет второй «н».— Черт. Тогда в слове «Angustia».— Там тоже нет.Джек откашливается.— Как вы, возможно, помните — или не помните — есть только одна вещь, которая лучше палатки для траха, и это…— …палатка для жалоб, — договаривает Флинт. — А теперь хватит трахать мне мозг, не то жаловаться начну я.— Ага! Значит, я могу позаимствовать твое чучело Англии для нашего нового предприятия!— Ни хрена подобного!Сильвер делает Джеку знак, что потом покажет, где оно находится.Теперь, когда нет Макс, они решают обойтись без лопаты. Всё будет проще: бьешь чучело по своему выбору, жалуешься (впрочем, порядок действий неважен) и уходишь, чтобы мозолить глаза кому-нибудь другому, а не Сильверу или Джеку. И все это за совершенно символическую плату.— Без денег совсем не то, — говорит Сильверу Джек. — Поверь мне.— Да мне бы и в голову не пришло пускать людей бесплатно!— Так держать!Рядом с Англией они водружают губернатора Роджерса. Мисс Гатри на этот раз нет — потому что нужно держать какую-то планку. И еще — возможно — потому, что Джек практически разорвал ее чучело в клочки.Сперва все идет достаточно гладко. Джек и Сильвер договорились, что будут нести вахты по четыре часа, как на корабле. Первым заступает Джек. Время от времени заходит Энн, лупит исключительно Роджерса и жалуется, что нет чучела Джека. Флинт следит за палаткой, как ястреб, — или, точнее сказать, как курица-наседка.— Обещаю, мы его вернем, — мило улыбается ему Сильвер. — Я даже зашью, где порвалось.— Ты умеешь шить?— Нет, но ты ведь умеешь — так что я попрошу, чтобы ты мне показал на своем чучеле Англии.— Может, мне лучше зашить тебе рот?— Это скандинавский миф, а мы здесь не занимаемся скандинавской мифологией — только греческой и римской.Но тут Флинт вспоминает про Филомелу.— Понял.Под конец вахты Джека приходит Мади.— …он говорил о темных глубинах, — слышит Сильвер обрывок их беседы. — Говорил, что люди оттуда не возвращаются. И что потом?— Что? — спрашивает заинтересованный Джек.— Пошел и нырнул! — Хм. — И у него лопнули барабанные перепонки! Бедный Абимбола: тяжело, когда у тебя сын — ныряльщик.— Как бы то ни было, он, похоже, необыкновенный человек. Жаль, что мне в свое время такие не встретились. Это всё?— Ха! Конечно, нет! Знаешь настоящую причину, почему моя мама убивала всех этих белых?— Эм.Мади понижает голос до зловещего шепота: — Колдун предсказал ей, что я выйду замуж за белого и стану хозяйкой таверны, как Элинор.— Господи.Мади смеется: — Я пошутила!Сильвер мудро решает ретироваться.Флинт жалуется в основном на волосы — точнее, на волосы Сильвера и его вопиющую бестактность в том, что касается прически.Когда на вахту заступает Сильвер, первым посетителем становится Джек.— Я был бы превосходным губернатором! — стенает он. — Положим, кабинет у меня и вправду был в некотором беспорядке, но у меня отличный вкус в том, что касается картин и книг! Я старался — никто не может меня упрекнуть!— Никто тебя и не упрекает.К Сильверу стекается поток посетителей — всех размеров, видов и мастей. У каждого из них проблема — включая молочную козу, которая жалобно блеет, глядя на него. Вероятно, она тоже хочет своей доли в добыче — как и все остальные. Или, может быть, подать на Сильвера в суд. Или, возможно, она на самом деле — воплощение Сатаны.— Следующий!Доббс смущенно протискивается в палатку. Выглядит он неважно — настолько, что Сильвера начинает подташнивать.— Ты мертв, — спокойно сообщает он Доббсу. Некоторым приходится буквально разжевывать простейшие вещи.— Ты убил меня! — парирует Доббс.— Я сделал так, что мы выиграли бой. Следующий!— Вор. — Сильвер прослеживает глазами, куда направлен нож Рэндалла — на его деревянную ногу. — Вор!О, твою ж мать.— Хватит, Рэндалл, ты прекрасно знаешь, каковы были шансы. В твоей смерти я не виноват.— Вор! — занудно повторяет Рэндалл.— Да, да, я вор, я украл твою жизнь, смирись с этим. — Несчастный придурок. Теперь Сильвер чувствует, что по-настоящему по нему соскучился.Третий призрак — миссис Барлоу, такая, какой он видел ее в последний раз при ее жизни.Сильвер хмурится: — Я полагал, что вы резвитесь на лугах Элизиума.— Я, скажем так, нашла лазейку, — очень сухо говорит она.— На что же вы жалуетесь?— На тебя. — Она пригвождает его к месту разгневанным взглядом. — Ты потакаешь ему — еще хуже, чем та девчонка!Сильвер приподнимает брови.— Ах, простите — неужели это идет вразрез с вашей предсмертной волей? Потому что мне рассказывали другое.— Но не ценой же души Джеймса!— Нельзя быть злодеем наполовину, как нельзя быть наполовину беременной. Можете качать головой, но разве не вы со своим мужем первыми толкнули его на эту дорожку? «Стыда не ведай» — и что же тогда остается, как не заделаться законченным злодеем? Только стыд удерживает человека от того, чтобы дать волю желаниям.— Нет, Джон!Он улыбается.— Позвольте с вами не согласиться, мэм. — Какого черта его спящая совесть выглядит как миссис Барлоу?Когда он видит перед собой Тича, первая мысль: «Прекрасно, старый ублюдок сыграл в ящик, не успев сделать ничего по-настоящему стоящего». Но затем он понимает, что, похоже, снова настал черед живых.Тич сверлит его взглядом, который мог бы внушить нешуточный страх, не имей Сильвер только что дела с разгневанной миссис Барлоу.— У меня был сын! — сокрушается Тич. — Прекрасный сын! И кого я получил взамен? Рэкхема!— Попробуй побеседовать с ним о женском вероломстве. За кружкой рома. — Этого им должно хватить. — И не забудьте обсудить, как деньги вечно исчезают неизвестно куда.К концу дня единственная жалоба самого Сильвера: «Понятия не имею, какого черта я здесь делаю». По крайней мере, он не занят молочной козой. И практически уверен, что не сбивает с пути истинного милого невинного Джеймса — не более, чем тот сбивает его…— Теперь ты нас понимаешь, — хором говорят Роджерс и Англия.
10364598	How it Came About that	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Severus Snape, Remus Lupin", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "中文-普通话國語", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by lzqsk", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2011-01-11T00:00:00", "words": "4,775", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Remus Lupin/Severus Snape", "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 }	Severus Snape 究竟为啥会被听见在Hogwarts 礼堂中自言自语 Title: How it Came About that Severus Snape was Heard Humming to Himself in the Halls of HogwartsAuthor: islandsmoke （http://islandsmoke.livejournal.com/ ）Translator：水藍色的魚 @ 披着灯籠的人皮Fandom：Harry PotterPairing: Snape/LupinRating: PG Summary: The prompt I chose was: Epistolary POA-era narrative told through the letters and notes they exchange, & maybe also through newspaper clippings, marked student papers, minutes from staff meetings etc. I hope you enjoy! Notes: Thanks to my wonderful betas Hogwarts Honey and busaikko, and Brit-picker Aunty Marion! Any lingering mistakes are, of course, mine. 原文地址： http://snupinsanta.annex-files.com/viewstory.php?sid=445 授权： Hi Doris!Yes, you may continue to translate my fics if you like. Just keep me informed. :)I'm glad you liked the story!~smoke 摘要：我选的情节是：书信体POA时期，用书信、交换纸条，&可能外加剪报，学生论文作业，教师会议上的碎碎念等形式讲故事。希望你喜欢！ === Severus Snape究竟为啥会被听见在Hogwarts礼堂中自言自语 === 1993 年11 月11 日 Filius，你今天早上看见Severus了么？ Pomona ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Pomona，没看见，怎么了？出什么事情了吗？ Filius ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Filius，我也不知道；他居然冲我微笑来着！ PS ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Pomona，没准儿那其实是消化不良？ FF ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Filius，不，他已经吃过药了。而且我敢发誓，他一个人在大厅里自言自语呐。 PS ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Pomona，如此看来，确实很不寻常。你确定你自己没出问题？ Filius [注]Filius Flitwick，魔咒学教授，Ravenclaw学院院长Pomona Sprout，草药学教授，Hufflepuff学院院长 1993 年8 月23 日我亲爱的Remus，对于你能同意接受黑魔法防御术（Defense Against the Dark Arts）教授这一职位，我深感荣幸。毋庸置疑你非常合适，而且我相信，你本身便有一种能带给学生良好教导的天赋。至于你每个月的缺席，其他同僚们都向我保证，他们非常愿意帮你代课，另外我知道Severus也很期待酿制狼毒剂（Wolfsbane）这种顶级高深的魔药。他日常的教学工作——甚至是帮医务室补充供给——远远不能挑战他作为魔药大师（Master Brewer）的天分。我们都十分盼望你能在开学的时候过来一起工作。你忠实的，Albus Dumbledore ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 亲爱的Remus，真高兴你今年会和我们一起工作。我个人也非常期待你能回到Hogwarts，尽管由于满月，你无法在开学前就过来，这真是遗憾。不过我很清楚，你肯定能很快安顿下来，准备好接手班级的课程。代理女校长，Minerva McGonagall ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 亲爱的Remus，听到你能来我真是太高兴了！假如你有任何需要，请一定要来找我。Severus一直以来都保证了我们有最好的供给，而且我肯定他会很高兴帮你酿制任何魔药。爱你的，Madam Pomfrey 1993 年8 月26 日 Lupin，你不能在开学前过来真的非常不方便，但我明白那是由于满月。假如你还有口气活下来，又真的能找到来学校场地的路，那么我需要最迟在第一个周日见到你，以便讨论你对于狼毒剂的特别需要。 Snape ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，能看到你的信真好啊！我向你保证标准的狼毒剂就可以了。我之前服用过，大体上非常满意。所以不用麻烦你额外为我调配，尽管真的非常感谢你的好意。 Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lupin，我向你保证，好意和我提出的要求没有任何关系。我所酿制的任何药剂都远远不是标准所能形容的。狼毒剂太过复杂，我也根本没期待你能明白，而且我同样不指望你懂得“满意”这种等级的效果绝不是我酿制任何药剂所要达到的。周日下午三点半过来就可以了。 Snape ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，下午茶！你能用这种方式欢迎我可真是太棒了。但抱歉，那个时间我刚巧与Minerva还有Filius约好了一起喝茶。不过我想我周六大概有空去找你。 Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lupin，这绝非什么社交邀请。我最大的愿望就是根本不见你。然而，Albus已经决定我应当为你酿制狼毒剂，所以我会去做的。周六我已经有预约了。鉴于我需要时间来为你量身定做特别的药剂，请一定要合作一点。那么开学的时候我会再联系你。 Snape 1993 年9 月2 日 Lupin，从你的面相我完全能了解所谓的“标准”狼毒剂确实相当“令人满意”。你看上去和死了似的。本周五早上十点，必须到我的办公室来。 Snape ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，你真是变得相当蛮横，对不？我敢肯定你唬住了所有的姑娘——还有大部分的小伙子们！——让高年级的学生心惊胆战。抱歉，我没办法赴约。真的，标准配方——特别是你酿制的——就足够了。 Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lupin，既然如此，也罢。任何由此产生的问题都是因为你拒绝合作，我敢肯定校长先生绝不会高兴听到的。既然要做“标准”药剂，那么我建议你在满月前一周每天都要服用。我会准备好的。 Snape ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，假如你坚持的话。学生的安全自然极为重要，但你确定你这样做，不是因为明知道那东西尝起来糟糕透顶么？倒不是我在指责你卑鄙或者怎样。 Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lupin，我？卑鄙？这居然出自一个拒绝见我的人之口？ Snape 1993 年9 月10 日 L— 你怎么敢！你竟敢嘲笑我，还当着所有学生的面？我看你一点儿都没变，还是从前的懦夫一个。 S ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，我可不是那个吓坏了学生的人。我只不过在教学过程中善加利用而已，根本没有故意找机会用某些画面冒犯你让你尊严扫地。既然这可能算是个不幸的玩笑，我不得不说，我觉得你带那顶大帽子确实相当华丽。 Remus 1993 年9 月22 日 L— 今天晚上我会给你送狼毒剂过去，接下来直到满月，晚餐之后，每晚如此。鉴于我根本不相信你，所以我会看着你喝光为止。建议你少吃几口。 S ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，非常感谢你对于细节的关注，还有对于我的关心。很期待今天晚上在我房间和你见面。 Remus 1993 年10 月2 日昨天你为什么没有去上课，还有今天早上也没有出现在礼堂（Great Hall）？你究竟怎么了？ S ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 滚蛋。 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，请尽快过来。Remus病得很严重。我想大概是对狼毒剂里的什么成分过敏。 Poppy ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 魔药大师（Master Brewer）魔法部药剂实验室Dolgellau, Wales（北威尔士地名）您好：最近我在为一个曾经服用过几次贵方狼毒剂，没有产生任何副作用的狼人配制这副魔药。他目前病得相当严重。鉴于我是严格按照Damocles Belby亲自提出的步骤进行操作，发生这种情况显然是由于您改变了原始的配方。我请求您能让我详细了解究竟您在酿制的步骤以及配料上都做了哪些改变。还望您能尽快回复。您真诚的，（Yr eiddoch yn ddiffuant，威尔士语）Severus Snape药剂师（Potions Master）魔药学教授Hogwarts魔法学校为了您的方便，随信附上Belby的指南一份。 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Poppy，把这副药剂立刻给那头狼人灌下去，一定要看着他全部喝掉。估计明天他就能回来上课了。 Severus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，你真是天才！Remus现在睡得很安慰，我希望他醒来的时候能有食欲。另外我很想和你仔细探讨一下整件事情。晚上喝一杯，如何？ Poppy ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Poppy，非常荣幸。 S 1993 年10 月3 日 Severus，我明白自己应当对你救了我的命说谢谢，尽管其实是你的药剂差点杀了我。所以……非常感谢。另外趁你还没发火之前，没错，你说得对，我应当按你的要求去见你，并且诚实回答你现在可能想要提出的任何问题。谁会猜到魔法部的药剂师在偷懒的同时，居然还舍弃了额外的配料以及精确的成分配比，最终导致我的过敏反应呢？似乎我还欠你一些对不起。首先，我以为你是为了以前的事泄愤才故意让我生病。用不着教训我了，因为现在我的耳朵还被Poppy的愤怒震得隐隐作痛，当时我私下里和她提过这个想法。于是她也是对的。你永远不会为了那些微不足道的报复去亵渎你身为魔药大师的尊严。第二个抱歉，呃，真对不起我吐在你靴子上了。 Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ L— 你永远也不能停止侮辱我，对不？动动脑子吧，哪怕就这么一回，我居然会玷污自己作为魔药大师的名誉，就为了报复某些幼稚的恶作剧，这简直应该天打雷劈。看来你狂妄自大到尾巴翘上天了，你以为你真的值得么。另外，聪明点的话，用餐的时候就别坐在我旁边。我相信我们明天午餐后都有时间。在我办公室见面，我会收集一些必要的资料，以便帮你正确地准备下一次的狼毒剂。 S P.S. 谁会用“猜”的？没人，你个蠢货，但是我早就知道应该让你先回答我的问题。 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 就听你的，Severus。 R 1993 年10 月4 日 Severus，我必须说，这真是我有史以来……经历过的……最……全面的问诊。当然所有那些问题，包括我的性取向，性经历以及最近的性生活，对于酿制狼毒剂其实并非严格需要的？ Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lupin，随信附上资料，认真看你就会发现很多已经标注出来的参考书以及学术期刊，涉及到特定的性行为——会对特定的配料还有成分配比——产生影响——或者完全不会。要是你看了之后还不相信，我会给你更多证据。我向你保证，我对深入研究你的性生活没有任何其他的兴趣。 Snape ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，我还在研读。尽管我承认那些文章和书籍中大部分内容我都看不太懂，但是我明白你的意思了。而且我必须讲，Thaddeus Hornsby那篇登载于1947年12月号药剂师月刊上（58页-76页）的“性唤起对于内含乌头（Aconitum），彭科植物酸模(Rumex acetosa)以及铜元素的药剂所产生的影响（只包括其中两种的情况）”，这篇文章对我催眠之用简直太合适了。 Remus 1993 年11 月7 日 Severus，我明白你怀疑我当初和Sirius Black一伙，也在想这是不是上周你在我班级上讲那些的……呃……原因之一。我知道任何我说自己是无辜的辩白都会石沉大海，但拜托，Severus，为了我俩，请千万要小心。你是我认识的最聪明的人；请一定不要让旧日的不公正蒙蔽了你的理智。说点儿高兴的，我发觉你真是天才！你为我准备的那药剂——哪怕是尝起来更恶心——效果简直出乎意料的好。我的头脑更清醒了，而且比之前更加渴望自由。我要怎样感谢你？ Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lupin，你能给得起的任何东西都不够支付那些开销。你甚至都付不起配料的费用，更别提补偿我用来准备药剂的宝贵时间。我已经告诉Dumbledore几百遍了你根本不值得。 Snape ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，我打赌我能想到些什么。 Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 我根本不知道你在讲什么。 S ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 唔。我发现真的很难相信，你居然会用那样严格的自律禁欲，彻底抛弃所有过去的回忆，忘掉我们俩在一起整夜厮混，热情奔涌的美好时光。 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lupin，好吧。要是你坚持想用某种方式来补偿你应尽的义务，那么我希望能试验一些对于狼毒剂配方的修正。我相信确实可以做出改进。 Snape ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，我难道说了我觉得自己负有义务？其实我是想表示感激而已。但是，不。我很抱歉，我必须拒绝这个要求。 Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lupin，我真不明白。你提出和我上床，却不能允许对于狼毒剂的实验。你的优势在哪里？我还以为你很关心你的同类（your people）。 Snape ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，我提出和你上床了？我以为我提出的是好好来一场高布石游戏（Gobstones）[注]。另外，我的同类？虽然也有一些麻瓜狼人，但绝大多数其实都是巫师，因此也是你的同类。但我明白你的兴趣在于和你一样享有声望地位的人，而不是帮助那些你觉得远远低贱于你的人们。 Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lupin，假如药剂能得到改进，这两者又有什么区别？ Snape ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 我绝不会做什么小白鼠。 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 当然不，你比那个大了点儿，不是么？ [注] 高布石游戏（Gobstones）：类似弹子球的魔法游戏，石头会喷出很臭的液体溅到输者脸上。 1993 年11 月9 日 Lupin，你为什么不能和我一起工作？ Snape ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，你是想要一个解释，还是在试着劝我？ Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ L— 后者。但是倘若事实证明那根本行不通——而且我似乎想起来了你可以顽固不化到无可理喻的地步——那么就是前者。 S ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，这么坦率可真不像你！但千万别试着告诉我其实你真的在乎。 Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ L— 我发现Gryffindor的聪明已经不复往昔了。而且当然，我不在乎。我只是好奇而已。 S ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 你的意思是要开始八卦管闲事了？ ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 只要能给我个答案。 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 啊，现在你是在试着诱惑我了！ ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 白痴。 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 你这个甜言蜜语的小蜜糖！在我们把可怜的家养小精灵（house elf）用传纸条累死之前，我要说晚安了，而且我会考虑你的要求。那个希望得到答案的，就是这样。睡个好觉。Remus 1993 年11 月10 日 Severus，你对Belby的研究了解多少？关于他实际上是如何弄出狼毒剂的。 Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Remus，其实，一无所知。 Snape ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，我可不这样想。就像你了解的一样，大部分狼人都觉得十分压抑，没有任何尊严和权利——事实上也是如此——他们的存在是非法的，野蛮的。Belby付钱让人们给他捕猎狼人，好的时候他将他们关押起来，不好的时候就一直锁在笼子里。他恐吓他们，强迫将药剂灌下他们的喉咙，然后观察结果。他从来不会问狼人任何问题，关于药效之类，更别提问问他们是否愿意这样被当作实验对象。他对待狼人根本就像是对待动物，大批狼人在他完善狼毒剂之前便被残害致死了。可事到如今，他竟然被认为是个伟大的楷模。 Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Remus，我懂了。而且我相信你明白，我不是他，你也不是那些不幸的狼人。 Severus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，你正在这样做。努力试着改变我的想法。虽然我不觉得你是Belby那样的怪物，我也知道对狼人的同情不适用在你身上。我承认，想不出什么好的理由了。但正因为如此，因为我身为一个在曾经对你有过威胁的狼人，你也会体谅我，拒绝参加任何试验。 Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lupin，当然我会体谅。另外非常感谢你没有将我归于残暴的行列。你正在强迫我承认，我其实是在劝你，因为你对我来说是特别的，我才希望进行试验。在你还没有生气之前，我想说，你其实是我见过或者听说过的狼人中，最正派，最有教养，脑子还有希望的一个。你对于药剂改变所产生的任何细微反应，对我来讲都是无价的。当然，对于改善药剂也一样。 Snape ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，所以，现在你在怪我太自私？啊，Severus，我发现自己——不是第一次了——在苦苦挣扎于，究竟是完全信任你，还是根本不相信你。 Remus ~~~~~~~~~~~~ L— 我确实记得，你曾经这样讲过。 S ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 就在我第一次给你口交的时候，对不？ ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 胡扯什么，Lupin！还有家养小精灵呢。 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 他们在看了——或者让别人看——任何委托他们转达的信件之前，就死定了。 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ L— 我确实承认，自己不情愿看你变形。 S ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 我决不允许你在场！抱歉，请让我解释清楚。当狼人变形的时候，那真的……极为痛苦，非常非常疼。我们——我——疯了一样打滚，尖叫哀嚎，我的每根骨头都断裂重组，我的皮肤被拉长，撕裂，重新生长，我的肌肉也是如此。很多次我几乎要昏过去——而且我其实一直希望真的能不醒人事。我很怕，每次都是，唯恐这是最后一次；想着我可能活不过去了。当一切结束，我缩成一个球蜷在地上，呜咽，痛哭，抖个不停，试着积攒起支离破碎的勇气，撑起身子，继续生活。这是我最脆弱的时候，身心俱疲，而这和狼人一贯凶悍的印象是完全不合的。除了我的母亲，我不愿意允许任何人看着我变形，而那，也仅仅在我还是个吓坏了的孩子的时候才有。 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 我懂了。好吧。我同样承认，你狼形时在你身边，哪怕你有自己的意识——没准儿特别是你保有自己的意识——都绝不是我有兴趣去做的。但是，你能不能不要再回答我的问题了？我或许能缓解那种疼痛。 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 你当真会那样做么，Severus？请原谅我听上去愤世嫉俗，不过好像也还没有那么明显。 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 经历变形，听上去好像有点儿和忍受钻心咒（Cruciatus）类似；我说得对么？ ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 没错，我想确实很像。 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ 那么假如我能减轻那种疼痛，是的，我会去做。 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Severus，你是否介意上来我房间，深入讨论一下？ ~~~~~~~~ end ~~~~**~~~~ END BY 水蓝色的鱼2011/1/11
10363185	Xiao Duan Zi	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Star Trek RPF", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by mogana", "chapters": "7/7", "completed": "2017-04-23", "published": "2017-03-19T00:00:00", "words": "550", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto", "Character": "Chris Pine", "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 }	克里斯每年的12月08日都会一个人偷偷回到这家酒店的1208号房间。他总是傍晚夕阳下山的时候入住，第二天中午离开。那个晚上他会叫一瓶好年份的红酒，喝干，第二套天退房的时候却丝毫不见酗酒过度的痕迹。去年他提前一个月在网上预定那个房间的时候发现已经被别人预定掉了。克里斯有点生自己的气，为什么不早点预定，但是又急需这个晚上，只好退而求其次，预订了1210号房间。在12月08日的晚上，他入住了1210号房间，喝完红酒，觉得哪里哪里都不对，床没有隔壁宽敞，沙发没有隔壁舒服，就连窗口景观也没有隔壁那么毫无障碍。借着酒意，他决定去看看隔壁到底是谁这么不长眼抢掉了他的房间。敲门敲了一阵，隔壁住客似乎想假装自己不在。克里斯坚持不懈的敲了一会，身后传来惊讶的声音：“克里斯！你怎么在这里？”克里斯身体僵硬，恨不能杀死十分钟前好奇心过旺的自己。他挤出招牌式的微笑回头：“嗨，扎克瑞，晚上好。”他还掩饰尴尬似的挥了挥手，“好巧，你一个人？”“迈尔斯在楼下，我上来换件衣服。”扎克瑞发现对面的人一身酒气，“你是刚从酒吧回来？”说着打开房门，手势邀请克里斯进去。克里斯站在门口，手紧紧扶住门框，眼睛不敢往里看，保持微笑：“是阿，年纪大了扛不住，才喝了几杯就有点醉了，房间都搞错了。”正说着扎克瑞已经换上了一件羊皮小夹克走出来，他邀请克里斯和他们一起再去喝一杯，“不不不，你看我都已经醉了，而且我去打扰你们二人世界也不合适。”克里斯用力摇头，“我这就回房间了，你们好好玩。”他走到1210号房间打开门，假装自言自语“哦，原来是这里。”然后头也不回的走了进去关上门。第二天早上扎克瑞和迈尔斯去餐厅喝咖啡的时候想起克里斯也在，于是电话他想约一起早餐，被告知他昨晚临时有事已经飞回了洛杉矶。“当年我们星际迷航庆功会就是在这里举办的”扎克瑞边吃边和迈尔斯闲聊，“好像也是12月份，人太多房间不够，我和克里斯挤了同一张床，他睡相比你还差。”克里斯意兴阑珊的回到家，删除了手机日历里所有的“预定1208”，之后他再也没有去过那个酒店。 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- 克里斯接了个电影，要演一个自强型盲人小帅哥，于是找扎克瑞对戏。扎克瑞正穿着一身松垮的家居服躺在沙发上敷克里斯永远无法理解的海藻面膜。“我有个好主意，你就把眼睛敷上面膜，那就不得不做瞎子了。” 扎克瑞灵机一动的说。“额，有点恶心，”克里斯很排斥，“找根领带扎上就好。”于是扎着领带的克里斯和洗掉了面膜的扎克瑞做到了餐桌两端，假装是一对男女在约会。“你平时喜欢干嘛？”克里斯按照剧本问。“人家平时喜欢逛街，shopping，做头发什么的。”扎克瑞嗲声嗲气的说。克里斯听得忍俊不禁，“喂，按照剧本来好不好？”“我又没有和女人约会过，不懂她们会怎么回答。另外你剧本上的台词太虚伪了我才不读。”“那你就假装是第一次和我约会呗？”“你确定？”扎克瑞的声音变得低沉而危险，“第一次约会？在你眼睛上扎着领带的情况下？”克里斯感觉到对面气息的变化，“不是，就当是我们第一次见面吃饭的时候啊，你就当我眼睛上没有领带嘛。”不自觉口气变得软了下来。然后，突然之间，他感觉有一双强有力的臂膀把他拦腰扛起。“你要干什么？放我下来！”克里斯惊慌的想要扯掉领带，可是手臂被扎克瑞紧紧的箍着动弹不得。他能感觉到被扛进了卧室，扔在柔软的大床上，然后被用力的压住结结实实的吻了一通。等一切结束，扎克瑞扯下他的领带，撑起脑袋侧身注视着他，“亲爱的，以后不要随便在我面前露出秀色可餐的样子，我可是大魔王啊。”克里斯翻了个白眼，“闭嘴，你这只行走的泰迪。” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Zachary决定要结婚了，Miles的最后通牒，不结婚就分手。请帖发到LA的时候Chris喝光了酒柜里的藏酒昏天黑地的一个人醉死在家里。第二天傍晚被一阵执拗不歇的电话声吵醒，Zach正式邀请他做伴郎。去他妈的伴郎，去他妈的Zachary Quinto，去他妈的结婚，头痛欲裂的Pine先生借着未醒的酒意狠狠摔了电话。过了两天Chris情绪稳定了一些，打电话给老朋友诉苦，说是好朋友约好一起不结婚的，莫名就抛弃了自己跑去结婚了。老朋友听完沉默半响，问他到底是因为好朋友结婚难过，还是因为被抛下了难过？“有区别么？”“当然啦，如果是前者，说明你爱着这个好朋友，如果是后者，说明你只是怕寂寞。”一道霹雳闪过，上帝阿，Chris醍醐灌顶，原来我难过的是好朋友结婚了，新郎不是我！回到家他回电话给Zachary，约他见面，说伴郎这种事电话沟通太没有诚意了，刚好他有个活动在纽约，到时候他们可以约酒吧面聊。于是那天他像第一次约心上人一样梳妆打扮飞到了纽约，早早的到了约定地点等，Zachary打了两次电话推迟见面时间，说是在陪Miles试礼服。Chris让他保证晚上只有他一个人过来，可以提前帮他开单独的单身派对。两个人终于见面了，Zach肥成了一头猪，Chris忍不住嘲讽他是好事将近心宽体胖。“真的。”结束惯例的寒暄之后Zach安静下来认真说话，“我一直排斥结婚，可是真的定下来婚礼之后真的感觉完全不一样，和他在一起就好像有家的感觉，也不用担心自己身材走样被嫌弃了了，很安定的感觉，自然就胖了。”他看了一眼Chris，“你身材保持得这么好，还不是因为要泡万千美女，我这种有主的和你不能比了。”Chris端着威士忌猛喝了一口，“我还以为你是不婚主义。” “我曾经是，可是和Miles相处久了，感情深了，他想结婚，我何必不给他这个安全感。”Zachary说得坦坦荡荡，一副顾家好男人的架势。他们像所有久别重逢的好朋友一样喝着酒听着爵士聊天聊地，最后礼貌的告别，就好像他飞越一整个国度真的就是为了来陪他过一个纯粹的单身之夜似的。那些酝酿了一整个晚上的告白，永远的停留在了LA他家的客厅里。-------------------------------“和我结婚吧，我可以搬来纽约，带上小黑和你家狗娃一起，我们一起买个大房子，带花园那种，在花园里帮他们搭个小城堡。我可以修建草坪，刷篱笆，打扫卫生，你可以遛狗，煮咖啡，帮我搭配服装。我们会成为曼哈顿最幸福的一对。” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chris和Zachary是相交多年的朋友。用记者的话来说，是私交甚密的老朋友，但是没有人想到有这么好。那一天本来是很开心的日子，Zachary和Miles参加完婚礼，Chris送他们去机场回纽约，路上发生连环车祸，司机Chris被弹出的气垫撞晕，坐在副驾驶位子的Zachary被从侧面的大巴撞得血流不止无法动弹。救护车资源不足，最后Miles陪着他们到达医院的时候Zacahry几乎已经伤重不治。Chris醒过来的时候发现Zachary的律师在病房，他瑟缩了一下，眼神恐慌，强撑着问：“发生了什么？”，根本不敢提Zach的名字。律师叹了口气，拿出一份文件，“Pine先生，我恐怕有几份文件需要你签署。”“不，没有见到Quinto我什么都不会签的。”Chris想歇斯底里的大叫，但是说出来的声音微小的让人觉得下一口气就要呼不出来了。这时候Miles推门进来，怒气冲冲的对着Chris质问：“你们俩他妈的是把我当傻瓜么？为什么Zach的呼吸机能不能拔是由你来做决定？”Chris眼前一黑，宁愿自己还没醒过来，看着Miles生气的脸虚弱的问，“Zach？为什么你们需要讨论拔呼吸机的问题”，拔呼吸机几个字几无可闻，好像不说出口就不是真的似的。这时候有医生推门进来，看了眼站着的两位，严肃的说：“我恐怕Pine先生需要安静的休息环境。没事最好不要长时间逗留。” Chris无力的躺着，看上去虚弱的几乎没有办法组织语言，但是又不得不鼓起全部的勇气来说话：“医生，和我同车的Quinto先生怎么样了？”“大量失血，大脑严重缺氧，目前还在ICU。”医生看了眼听着他的话嘴唇迅速苍白下去的病人，补充了一句：“不过目前看应该已经没有生命危险，再观察24小时就能挪到普通病房了。” 床上刚苏醒没多久的病人再一次昏了过去。之后慢慢的大家都恢复过来了，Miles还是Zach的小男朋友，Chris和Zach还是那对隔段时间就通通电话的老朋友，记者们会说，他们是曾经同生共死的好朋友。很多年前Chris和Zach曾经在拉斯维加斯喝醉酒，不小心签署了一份具有法律效应的文件。酒醒之后似乎没有人把它当真。文件一式两份，Zachary回去之后把文件交给了他的律师，Chris的那份后来被他埋在了保险箱深处。Chris对外宣称，就像偶像乔治克鲁尼，自己也要做黄金单身汉。Zachary则对外宣传，虽然不排斥一夫一妻制，但自己不会考虑婚姻。 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chris家里有一只红色漆皮的小烤箱。那是一只很小的烤箱，大概只能平躺着放下两片吐司的那种迷你型。很多年前，那时候大家都还是二字头青年。那是可以和朋友并肩走在街上喝咖啡遛狗不用担心狗仔跟拍的年纪。有一天这位一起遛狗的朋友决定留宿在Chris家，早上起来发现早餐没有烤吐司。第二天这只小烤箱就来到了派宅。朋友早起准备早餐，切下吐司片涂上芝士放进烤箱，煎了两个荷包蛋，现磨两杯咖啡。Chris睡眼惺忪邋邋遢遢的被拉起吃早餐，听朋友边喝咖啡边说，Chris，你要活得更细致点，早餐好好吃，不要只吃微波热剩披萨。朦朦胧胧的感觉被人关怀着，Chris很幸福。那之后很多次，早上Chris总是被朋友从被窝里拉起来吃早餐，以至于一听到烤箱发出的呜呜转的声响就会自然醒，然后闭着眼睛等着一双温暖的手来捏自己的脸蛋。后来，一部系列电影就像原子爆发一般无法控制的带来了所有的一切，好的，坏的。Chris现在是好莱坞A线男星，走出门买份报纸都能上People头条。他那个会帮他做早餐的朋友已经离开他所在的城市去了纽约定居。朋友走的那天Chris笑着去送他，祝他前程似锦，约定下次一定去纽约看他的舞台剧。这只红色的小烤箱被搁置了很多年。因为Chris一看到它，就会伤心的没办法吃下东西。 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Zach陪Miles来LA参加活动，晚上和几位老朋友在Chris家小聚。酒过三巡，只留下要开车的Miles和主人Chris还清醒着。“Zach平时不怎么提到你，我都不知道你们关系真的这么好。”Miles看着醉倒在沙发上的男朋友看似随意的说。别，Chris心里在呐喊，别和我聊你们的二人世界。“不会吧，你们刚交往那会他可是天天打电话骚扰我，Miles这个Miles那个的，你知道，本质来说他是个爱炫耀的人。” 坚持住Christopher，不就是聊天么，就像个成年人一样，随便扯点什么。Miles神色变幻，似乎是做了许久思想斗争才鼓足了勇气，“Chris，你知道Zach在LA以前有过什么爱的人么？”“没有。为什么这么问？”Chris端起酒杯掩饰，我。“因为每次我让他陪我来LA他总是各种推脱，就好像这里有什么让他不想面对的东西一样。”因为当年我们大吵了一架他才去的NYC，小朋友，你不知道你在挖掘什么。“我倒是没听说，不过那个时候他还在柜子里。”记住，做个成年人。沙发上的Zach迷迷糊糊的醒来，看到脚边的Chris，嗓音沙哑，“你好啊舰长，要给你的大副一个早安吻么？” 蠢货，Chris打断他，“这是不和逻辑的，大副。另外你的伴侣Miles已经等了你很久。”“Miles。”，Zach停顿了好一会好像才从什么梦里彻底清醒，“我们是不是该走啦。”是啊蠢货，毁了一切然后离开吧，“Miles，以前我和他无聊经常角色扮演网上恶搞的星际迷航配对小说，不代表什么的，不要介意。”“当然。毕竟我才是他交往了多年的男朋友。”男朋友几个字咬牙切齿的，“那我们就先告辞了。”Chris把喝醉了的前男友和他气呼呼的小男朋友一起送上了车，回到客厅看到装醉的几个老友都又各自倒上酒喝起来，“特意给你们留出空间以为能看场好戏，没想到剧情这么短。”是啊，我也以为会上演八点档，Chris给自己倒上酒，“嘿，我们可是成年人。”成年人不翻旧账。 ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- 扎克瑞和克里斯分手之后搬去了纽约。三个月都没到就找了个新男朋友迈尔斯，年轻貌美的模特小鲜肉。克里斯在LA听说了，暗自生气，他觉得他们分手只是谈恋爱过程中必然要发生作天作地作宇宙的然而最后肯定还是要痛哭着你爱我我爱你复合的，没想到扎克瑞这么快就找了新欢，输人不输阵，于是克里斯也迅速找了个新女朋友多米尼加，一样是年轻貌美的模特小鲜肉。这一天扎克瑞带着迈尔斯回LA参加活动，有一个晚上的空档，于是克里斯和扎克瑞决定决定来个双人约会。是的，哪怕他们分手了也是会经常聚一聚的。约会的地点定在了克里斯家，两个人都太红了，家里安全，并且可以比较随意。不过四个人还是盛装出席了。克里斯打开门看到扎克瑞和迈尔斯情侣装的时候心里哼了一声，庸俗，他愤愤的想，一边回头亲密的招呼女朋友：“亲爱的，他们到啦，你可以把酒醒上了”一边把情侣装让进了玄关。一顿饭吃得刀光剑影，克里斯和扎克瑞两个人就像在比拼情侣活动。什么“我和迈尔斯曾经偷偷去看午夜档电影，好刺激”“我和多米尼加喜欢一大早去海边冲浪”之类的，迈尔斯和多米尼加听得不断在旁边翻白眼。最后他们俩放下了喝醉了在pk的两人去院子里抽烟。“这样放着他们没问题么？”多米尼加问。“我猜这正是他们想要的吧，老朋友一起喝喝酒秀秀肌肉”迈尔斯用一种很看得开的口气说。回到客厅发现刚刚还在吵架的两个人已经在沙发滚成了一团热吻，多米尼加表示没眼看于是迅速离开了，迈尔斯叹气着敲了敲高脚杯，惊醒了吻得难分难解的两人。“哦，迈尔斯，听我解释”扎克瑞有点清醒，一把推开克里斯。克里斯浑浑噩噩的被一下子推到了沙发下面，迈尔斯看了眼靠着沙发清醒过来也洗耳恭听着扎克瑞说法的克里斯表情模糊的说，“好，我听你解释。”大眼瞪小眼，解释不清。“是不是你和我睡的时候想的是克里斯？”迈尔斯冷静的问。“当然不是”扎克瑞急了，“你为什么要这么想，这个吻不代表什么，就是旧情人喝醉了，吻一吻也很正常啊。我现在爱的人是你！”“哦？”克里斯说话了，“是么？那刚刚是谁急不可耐的推倒我的？”“那是喝醉了，你闭嘴”扎克瑞急吼吼的。“你们俩都闭嘴。”迈尔斯看上去生着气，“扎克瑞，你半夜做梦会喊克里斯以为我听不到？克里斯，你老是大半夜发消息骚扰扎克瑞以为我看不到？”沙发上两个人都噤若寒蝉。“你们俩要继续在一起是不可能的。”迈尔斯继续演讲，“克里斯要保持直男形象，扎克瑞你又耐不住寂寞。我不就是你们打发时间的一个小工具么？”“当然不是，你为什么这么想？”扎克瑞站起来想要拥抱迈尔斯。“因为你们哪怕分手了住在相隔5000公里的两个城市里也每天晚上要是视频一个小时？”哦，原来如此。克里斯心里那口气平息了。“你想要什么？”克里斯直视迈尔斯的眼睛，“肯定不是为了来特意告诉我我们还相爱着吧？”“我不会离开扎克瑞的，你想得美。”迈尔斯对他摇了摇手指，“我会一直和他恩爱下去，参加所有的时尚派对，上所有的杂志，成为所有人眼中同志爱情的道德标杆。”他瞟了他一眼，“而你，注定只能做那个阴暗的偷偷喜欢他的好莱坞直男。也许你现在豁出一切来告诉全世界你爱他，还可以挽救一下你们的爱情。不过我猜，你没有那个勇气。”“够了！”扎克瑞拥住迈尔斯，“够了，不要再说了。我们马上回纽约。”“怎么，怕伤害他？”迈尔斯挣开他的怀抱，“还是怕他真的豁出一切？”“呵呵”克里斯坐在地上笑起来，“我和他才是真正的相爱的人，你算老几？我和他一见钟情二见倾心，他跑去纽约也不过是怕我真的为了他豁出事业，我只要说一句让他回来，他还不是乖乖的抛弃你回来洛杉矶？”“克里斯！”扎克瑞也生气了，“不要这么说，现在迈尔斯才是我的恋人。我当然也不是你召之即来呼之即去的小狗。”“哦？所以如果我现在向全世界出柜，说和你相恋多年，你也不会回来？”克里斯很认真的表情。扎克瑞简直要崩溃了，他跪在克里斯身边扶住他的脸，直视他的蓝眼睛，“不，你不会。你的事业就是你的生命，你不会因为我而放弃。答应我。”“这谁知道，也许我就是突然想要做温莎公爵了。”克里斯似笑非笑。“好一出宿命恋人的大戏。”迈尔斯呵呵的笑起来，“我有个解决方案，一三五归你二四六归我，周日三人行，怎么样？”“WTF”扎克瑞的表情简直能吞下鸡蛋，“你脑子里都在想什么？？！！”“成交！”
10391913	you give love a bad name	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by fairydrarry", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-21T00:00:00", "words": "815", "Additional Tags": "yeah boiii, bon jovi hell yea", "Relationship": "Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter", "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 }	Draco was having a lovely Thursday evening, spending the time reading books on new Quidditch techniques and scribbling down any potion ideas that came to mind. Of course, Draco could be more productive.Wait. No, he actually couldn’t.Because Harry was playing unnecessary, loud, cantankerous garbage. Usually, Draco can drown it out and chalk it up to Harry going through a ‘hardcore’ phase.But it’s been over a year.His so-called “music” booming from underneath Draco’s room was trembling the floorboards, shaking the windows, and rattling the thoughts inside Draco’s mind. Which wasn’t “punk rock” at all.The blond popped up from his warm spot underneath the duvet, stomping his way out the room and down the stairs. How dare that mop-headed prat think he can keep this trash playing at all hours of the day-Draco’s splinter-causing, hard knocks upon Harry’s door interrupted the steady rhythm of the beat pounding from within the raven-haired boy’s bedroom. The music had been lowered significantly, but it still reverberated throughout the boathouse he, Draco, Pansy, Blaise, and Hermione shared.The oak door swung open after a few seconds to the lanky, grinning culprit and the overwhelming stench of both butterbeer and dirty laundry.“Potter, you scoundrel!” Draco yelled, pushing past Harry into the messy room. “Look at these clothes - there’s no way in hell these are clean! And what are you housing in here? Owls?!”One quick glance at the obnoxious housemate showed Draco that, based on the shit-eating grin plastered onto Harry’s face, his rant was not effective. He continued to ramble anyway.“The amount of beer bottles in this room is absolutely astonishing, Harry.” Draco’s mouth fell into a lazy ‘o’ as he surveyed the contents of the floor. “It’s like a landfill in here.” Green eyes trailed Draco’s movements - specifically the sway of his hips - and studied the way Draco’s lips pursed when he found something distasteful, or the way his cheeks were blemish-free and looked incredibly soft, or the way his slender fingers curled around the neck of a discarded bottle and how they’d look so much better wrapped around Harry’s-Suddenly, the minutely distasteful crash of some underground band transfigured into the soulful rasp of Bon Jovi, and Draco spun around on his heel to face a pink-cheeked Harry. He set the bottle down gently onto the floor.“You’re a mess, Harry Potter. You know that?” He shifted all his weight to one foot as the brunette and his infectious grin inched closer. “You don’t even have a good music taste, and… “ Cloudy eyes trailed down Harry’s chest, somewhat preoccupied with the slivers of golden skin he caught through the random holes and tears of Harry’s sleeveless Metallica tee. “W-What are you doing, Potter?” Draco backed up slightly as Harry kept smiling, a sultry grin in his emerald eyes to match the predatory gait he moved with.Tan fingers skimmed Draco’s jaw as the two boys intensely gazed at each other. The blond shivered, his eyes flickering down to Harry’s lips as they hovered right next to his.“Shot through the heart,” Harry whispered along to the song, his breath ghosting against Draco’s mouth. It faintly smelled of alcohol and mint, and Draco involuntarily leaned closer. “And you’re to blame.”“Darlin,” Harry’s fingertips dragged over Draco’s bottom lip, and the blond’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips as hooded emerald eyes tracked the movement.“You give love a bad name.”The kiss was intense and sudden, Draco grasping for anything to stable himself against as Harry put what seemed to be years of pent-up emotion into this one kiss. The blond’s lips were tingling, and his entire body was on fire. God, why didn’t I think to do this sooner?They stumbled over clothes and aluminum cans while maintaining the kiss, eventually collapsing on Harry’s unmade bed. Draco had landed underneath Harry, leaving the younger boy in position of power. His fingers were loosely clasped against Draco’s wrists, and Harry pulled back from their kiss, causing a mixture of a whine and a moan to slip past the older boy’s lips. Harry, aside from his swollen lips and desire-filled eyes, looked perfectly normal - while Draco looked like he had just had sex. Blond hair was extremely askew, lips as red as ever compared to his pale skin, cheeks blushing intensely, and pupils dilated over his grey irises. Harry stayed still, his knee in between both of Draco’s legs as he leaned against the elevated mattress and gazed at the blond draped across his bed.“Harry,” Draco started, his eyes unable to hide the desire and nervousness that Draco kept incredibly well hidden around Harry. “What is it?”Green eyes took in a messy Draco, laying upon a messy bed, in a messy room that was playing messy music. The only thing well-put together was Draco and Harry.“Just admiring the view.”
10335800	Tipsy	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Hugh Dancy, Mads Mikkelsen", "Fandom": "Hannibal (TV) RPF", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-17T00:00:00", "words": "2,903", "Additional Tags": "Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Hand & Finger Kink, Love Confessions, Drunken Confessions, Drunk Sex, this is my first and most likely only rpf", "Relationship": "Hugh Dancy/Mads Mikkelsen", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "#MadancyMarch", "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 }	Hugh hadn’t seen it at first.He hadn’t seen Mads as anything other than a coworker, a friend, hadn’t even seen him as particularly handsome for a long time. Sure, he wasn’t bad-looking, but after watching him play Hannibal for so long, and the creepy son of a bitch he could be when he was in the zone, Hugh didn’t exactly look at him in the same way that he looked at Ryan Gosling, or Channing Tatum, or any of Hollywood’s pretty boys. Mads wasn’t attractive in the same way as them. It was subtler, took longer to see, but was undoubtedly there. Hugh noticed his hands first. He’d watched the scenes from the show over and over and over, the shots of him in his kitchen, hands skilled around a blade… He noticed it in everyday life, too. When he was standing outside and puffing at a cigarette, the way that he held it between his fingers. Whenever he made small gestures while he talked, expressive when he was melting into whatever he was talking about. Whenever he drummed his fingers against the desk whenever he was bored. The way that his hands moved so effortlessly and fluidly whenever he was scribbling something down. Hugh quickly found himself infatuated by his hands, constantly watching them and imagining the way that they felt on his skin and… He noticed his eyes second. Whenever they were working, in the show, Hannibal’s eyes were always dark, sly, not like Mads’. Mads had eyes that could light up the room. Whenever he was happy, they lit up, scrunching up just ever so slightly at the corners, even without him smiling. Hugh sometimes found himself staring for hours, getting lost in them as he struggled to keep his train of thought as they talked, too distracted by the tiny details, tiny flecks of color and shades of warm browns to hear a word that he was saying. The third thing that Hugh realized he liked was his voice. At first, he’d had a bit of a hard time understanding whenever Mads got to talking too fast, which luckily wasn’t that often, but he’d been intrigued by his accent from day one. Hugh knew that people tended to like his normal accent here in the States, his British accent being considered hot by some, just exotic enough but not too exotic, still within the realm of normal. But Hugh had always liked Mads’, liked his voice, especially when he slipped back into Danish. Whenever they’d go out for a drink that quickly turned into ten, and Mads was drunk and slurring his words, Hugh found himself intrigued whenever he would start to forget bits of English and start using his native tongue instead…He had been positively fucked when he first started watching Mads’ Danish movies. ‘The Hunt’, ‘A Royal Affair’, ‘Pusher II’. Christ, he was lucky that he had been watching them alone, otherwise everyone would have known his dirty little secret, the little crush that had been long developing on his coworker growing evident by the tent in his pants during the sex scenes. Hugh found himself watching those scenes over, and over, and over, especially in the dead of night with the volume turned low and his hand wrapped around his swollen prick, all while telling himself that Mads was just a friend. But he wasn’t just a friend. He hadn’t been just a friend in years. Intimate onscreen moments turned into moments that weren’t exactly acting. There had been times on set where he had gotten so close to his lips and had been so tempted to steal a kiss, somehow fooling himself into thinking that maybe Mads was feeling the same thing, maybe he was thinking the same thing, wanting the same thing. It was simple gestures and jokes shared between them and times when Hugh didn’t want to be around anyone else… He was falling in love. It had all been building up, for years now, everything that he felt and everything that he wanted, everything forced down and hidden behind lock and key. But Mads was in town for the first time in months, and Hugh supposed that it didn’t take too much to unlock secrets and lips sealed so tightly. A few drinks, maybe. Mads always got a little more handsy when he was drunk. Those hands, the first things that Hugh fell in love with, what first drew his attraction, were all over him tonight. The two of them, home alone, no one there to stop them or judge them. Mads’ hand rested on his thigh, close to him, closer than they had been in awhile. They’d been catching up, talking about anything and everything, but the air had begun to still around them, leaving them with nothing but quiet breaths and hands pressed against him. “You know what?” Hugh murmured after a couple of silent moments and a few beers. Not enough to get him drunk, just enough to get that warm, fuzzy, tipsy feeling going in his head. “I think I might be just a little bit in love with you.” Mads’ eyes widened at the confession, just a bit. He wasn’t shocked, not in the slighted. There were things that could not be felt only by one person, and Mads supposed that he’d known for a long time now. He hadn’t quite expected it, no, but he was hardly all that surprised. Mads smiled at him, turning more fully toward him and running a hand through his curls, savoring the way that they felt between his fingers. “Well that’s… Good.” Mads mused with a small smile. “Because I think that I might be just a little bit in love with you as well.” Hugh gave him a small grin, half drunk off of the older man’s touch, leaning into his palm as he swayed back and forth ever so slightly. Those hands, god, those hands, touching his face, palm against his cheek as his dark eyes met his own. Hugh’s eyes darted between those dark eyes and his lips, lips he found himself imagining all over him. He wasn’t quite sure who kissed who, but Hugh suddenly found himself kissing the man that he had been falling in love with for so long now. In his lap, legs wrapped around the older man’s waist, those hands that he loved so much slipping up under his shirt... Will sighed against his lips as he felt his cock hardening between his legs, twitching as his need grew within him, the kiss deepening as Mads held him close, held him tight. Mads let out a groan as the younger man began to grind down on him, cocks heavy and thick between them, Hugh rubbing against him through four layers of clothes. His chest began to heave as he pulled him closer, closer, refusing to let him go. He let go of all thoughts, let go of anything that might have convinced him to pull away, might have pulled any amount of reason into his head, letting himself live in the moment and take it all in. Reason couldn’t take this from him now. “Fuck me.” Hugh breathed, voice raspy, breath like whiskey as he found himself grinding quicker, faster, the two of them horny and desperate after years and years of keeping everything buried so deep.Mads’ fingers dug into his skin, leaving rows of nail marks down his back that would hopefully stay there for hours, days after he was gone. The older man tugged off Hugh’s shirt and tossed it aside before claiming his mouth again, kissing him slowly, deeply.He wasn’t moving fast enough.Hugh pushed the older man back, reaching down and undoing his own jeans and shoving them off, freeing his aching cock. He need him, needed all of him, and he needed him now.Mads stared at the younger man above him, eyes full of need and desire. Hugh was a sight to see, beautiful in ways that he hadn’t noticed before. Tentatively, he reached up, fingers grazing over his body, feeling him all over, wanting every single inch of him, but Hugh grabbed his wrist and pulled down, guiding his hand to his rigid cock.“Touch me.” Hugh demanded. He normally would have wanted to take his time, memorize each inch of him, take time to feel his body moving in him, with him. But now, he was drunk and he was horny and he had wanted this for so damn long that he didn’t want to take his time anymore. He wanted it fast and hard and rough and loud.Mads obeyed him, curling his fingers around his length and stroking him hard, smearing the pre-cum that had gathered at the tip down his shaft, touching him in the way that he touched himself, touching him in the way that he had wanted to touch him for so long now. So many years spent quiet, so many years spent wondering and waiting and thinking that maybe someday, maybe if they had met under different circumstances, maybe in another life, maybe, maybe, maybe.But here they were. Emotions flying and lips colliding and hazy heads and random hookups. Regrettable. Perfectly regrettable. Perfectly… Perfect.“Out of these.” Hugh murmured as he tugged the older man’s shirt off, it taking everything in him not to tear everything off of him seam from seam, let the fabric rip. He unzipped his pants quickly, tearing them off his legs and tossing them aside between stolen kisses, the taste of him and beer on his tongue.Hugh glanced down between them, cocks stiff and pressed against each other, leaking and ruddy and wet at the tip. It was absolutely filthy, and absolutely wonderful. Hugh leaned forward, claiming his lips again as he reached between them, taking Mads’ hand in his own a he led it to their cocks. He wanted to feel those hands against him, wrapped around his length, the two of them rubbing up against each other… Oh, he needed it.Mads sighed as his hands squeezed tight around their cocks, massaging at the glans until they could they could hardly breathe. The pressure of his hands squeezing around, the smooth glide of foreskin, the taste of Hugh’s breath on his tongue, sweat pouring and blood pumping, hips thrusting minutely against him as he moaned beneath him, his filthy little prince, the man that he had wanted for so long and loved so much.“So fuckin’ good.” Hugh moaned, bucking slightly against him.Oh, those hands, those hands, those hands. His hands were so perfect, his hands being all that he had dreamed of for so long, the first thing he’d fallen in love with. He squeezed tight around their length as Hugh struggled to set pace, to move in time with Mads’ small thrusts. He dug his fingers deep into his shoulders, fingernails digging marks into his skin that Hugh prayed would last til morning, struggling to keep his eyes open and watch his hands move and squeeze and massage at his cock. Hugh slowly pulled back, inhaling sharply and capturing his eyes. His eyes were boring into him, dark eyes meeting Hugh’s blue ones. Those eyes, staring deeply into him, into his heart, into his soul. Those eyes. He loved those eyes. He was mesmerized by those eyes, in love with those eyes."Jeg elsker dig, jeg elsker dig.” Mads moaned from beneath him, voice coming out ragged and shaky and trembling as he whispered them, words that Hugh couldn’t understand. But there was so much passion in them, taking him deeply, his words piercing deep into his soul and engraving themselves into his flesh. That was all that he could take. Hugh’s stomach flipped hard as he wrapped his arms tightly around the older man’s neck. He was already so close to coming, already could feel his balls drawing up. He didn’t want to come like this. He didn’t want to come with his hands around his cock, not on this couch, not right here. No, he wanted to come with Mads buried deep inside of him, his hands bruising at his hips, his stunning dark eyes rolling back into his head as he emptied himself deep inside of him, words like melodies rolling off his tongue in a tune that Hugh couldn’t understand. “Bed. Now.” Hugh demanded. Mads let out a small growl, claiming his lips and wrapping his hands tight around his ass, wrapping his legs around his waist and pulling him up, holding him close and carrying him to the bedroom, lips colliding and sucking and biting and oh god. The older man dropped his lover onto the bed, watching him squirm beneath him, panting and flushed, chest heaving as his skin flushed bright pink. He was beautiful. More beautiful than he had ever expected. Mads leaned down and claimed his lips, straddling his thighs. He was drunk and in love and needed this more than he had ever needed anything in his life. “Lube?” Mads panted. “Nightstand.” Hugh whined, squirming, needing. The older man reached over, opening the drawer and fishing for the lubricant. He found it quickly, pulling it out and squeezing some out onto his fingertips. He reached between the younger man’s legs pulling them up around his waist before circling his rim with a slicked fingertip. Hugh squirmed beneath him, rim twitching and contracting as Mads touched him gently, massaging his rim as he slowly began to relax, squirmy and needy beneath the touch of his lover. He let out a moan as the older man pressed his finger inside, past his sphincter, pressing insistently against his prostate, like he knew just what to do. His back arched as pleasure coursed through him, pulsing through him. Mads pressed another finger inside of him, pumping in and out of him, quickly scissoring him open. He needed to be sheathed inside of him, needed to feel his tight heat wrapped around him, needed to bury himself deep inside… He needed him, needed it. “Now, now, please, Mads, inside of me, please.” He begged. “Condom?” Mads suggested. “Fuck the condom. Need you inside of me.” Hugh pleaded. Mads obeyed him, deciding to waste not another second. He grabbed the bottle of lube off the bed, squeezing it onto his fingers and slicking his shaft, making certain not to hurt him. Mads leaned down and kissed him again, lining himself up with Hugh’s twitching rim before pushing in, gliding into the hilt in one push, sheathing himself deep inside of the younger man as he clung tightly to him. Hugh let out a cry, head thrown back, taking him in full, his body adapting to the feeling of fullness. He let out a whine, digging his fingernails into Mads’ back, wrapping his legs tightly around his waist, pulling him deeper into him. Mads stilled inside of him for a moment, holding him tight and pressing kisses against his neck. “Move. Fuck me.” Hugh whispered. Mads let out a shaky breath, claiming his lips again as he pulled back slowly, beginning to thrust in and out of him, taking him fast and hard. The younger man lay moaning beneath him, rocking back against him, sweat pouring and chest heaving… Mads could hardly breathe, already coming so close, just the feeling of being inside of the man that he loved so much being enough. Hugh let out a sharp cry as Mads slammed against his prostate, over and over. He was as skilled in bed as Hugh had always imagined, bruising fingerprints into his hips, moving so rough and hard inside of him… It was perfect. It was so perfect, so perfect. His balls drew up tighter to his body, feeling himself coming closer, closer, already so close to coming. Hugh let out a whine, burying his face into the crook of his neck, trembling as he struggled to hold himself together. He didn’t want to come yet, didn’t want it to end just yet. But it was all coming apart, and then sleep would come and the sun would rise and dawn would come and they would have to go back to normal life. But he didn’t want it to end quite yet. He didn’t want the alcohol to wear off. He didn’t want to wake up hungover. He didn’t want to regret this in the morning. “Gonna come.” Hugh breathed. Mads slammed into him again, pressing his lips against his, feeling his body moving beneath him, hearts beating in sync. They were one. “Come for me, darling.” Mads murmured. And he obeyed. Hugh came hard, cock twitching and sputtering between their bellies as he came, thick, white semen squirting between them. The contractions of his body were what triggered Mads’ orgasm, emptying himself deep inside of Hugh. And then they were breathing. Laying. Heavy and hot and panting and sweaty and dirty and filthy and sleepy, curled in together. The older man looked down at his lover, eyes meeting, his hands grazing down slowly across his cheek, holding him gently. “I love you.” Hugh murmured. “Jeg elsker dig.” ------- Hugh woke the next morning to rain pounding on his window. Mads, the man he loved, the man he had wanted for so long, was laying in his bed. Oh, fuck.This was going to make filming season four fucking weird.
10337264	rainbow lights and	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Spencer Reid, Luke Alvez - Character, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Jennifer \"JJ\" Jareau, Tara Lewis, Penelope Garcia, The BAU Team", "Fandom": "Criminal Minds", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by nerdreid", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-17T00:00:00", "words": "1,047", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Luke Alvez/Spencer Reid", "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 }	"We know the unsub finds his victims in gay bars and clubs and abducts them from there, and so far he has never been to the same spot twice", Prentiss spoke as she gestured to the pictures on the board. "If he sticks to his timeline, he will kill again tonight."The other members of the team all had concerned looks on their faces. "How are we going to find him? We can't just wait until another victim goes missing", said Tara."I know, which is why I had Garcia compile a lists of all gay clubs and bars in the city. Based on Reid's geographical profile, he will most likely strike here," Emily paused, pointing with a pen to a marking on the map hanging on the wall, "right in the middle of his comfort zone."JJ sat upright, "but we can't go and canvass the area with police, that will scare the unsub away." She looked over to the tv, "plus, with all the media coverage, I'm not sure if he will even show up. He must know we're onto him."Prentiss nodded, "I know. But the urge to kill is too strong, and he gets off on the thrill, so he probably will go out tonight despite the news. However, police would put him off. Which is why two of us need to go undercover."Everyone must've been thinking the same thing, because suddenly all eyes were on Reid and Alvez. They were the only two men in the room, aside from Rossi, but he was too old for a club. "I- I'm not sure if a club is really my environment, you know", Reid said, his cheeks turning a pale shade of red."It'll be fine. The only thing you have to do is getting the unsub's attention and locating him. We will have constant communication, don't worry", Prentiss reassured.Rossi patted Alvez on his back, "good luck, lovers." Luke wasn't sure he saw it right, but he swore Rossi winked at him. This was going to be a tough job for Luke, considering he has had a crush on Reid from the moment he first laid eyes on the genius. On one hand he was happy he could spend time with Reid, dancing, close to each other. On the other hand, they were working and there is a serial killer walking around, so he needed to keep his head in the game.--After they got communication and tracking devices attached to their bodies, it was time to go out. "You ready?", Alvez asked Reid. "I think so." "Let's do it, then."They stepped out of the disguised FBI van that was parked a couple of blocks away from the club they needed to go to, and started to walk. Alvez took his time to take a good look at his partner. Reid was dressed differently than usual, instead of a suit that seems to consist out of a hundred pieces, he was wearing regular pants, converse and a shirt Luke had seen before on him. But right now he was wearing it with the sleeves rolled up, without a cardigan or tie. He looked gorgeous, and Luke had to remind himself he was on the job.He snapped out of his thoughts when Spencer asked him a question, "do you think we need to hold hands or something? To look more legit."Alvez shrugged nonchalantly, but then took Reid's hand in his and pulled him just a little closer. They took a deep breath before looking each other in the eyes and stepped into the club.The music was loud, so loud the two agents could barely communicate. It was very crowded, lights were flashing, and the bass could be felt throughout your whole body. Men were dancing, sweaty, making out on the dance floor. Spencer and Luke scanned the room, to see if anyone stood out, looked as if he didn't belong there. It was so packed with people that they didn't have a good view of the room, so Alvez proposed to moved to the dance floor."What?", Reid semi-shouted back. Alvez leaned in, "we need to move to the middle!". He was trying to stay quiet so others wouldn't hear them, but that was nearly impossible. He wasn't sure if Spencer understood what he said, so he just grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards the middle of the room.Almost everyone around them was dancing with a partner, and they needed to fit in, so Luke raised his eyebrows at Reid as a form of a question. Reid seemed to understand, so Alvez put his hands on the younger boy's hips and pulled their bodies together. It was hot in the room, and they were sweating. Rainbow coloured lights hit the pearls of sweat forming on Reid forehead, and his face was shimmering. He had never looked so pretty before, and Luke couldn't help himself, he really couldn't. He moved his hand to Reid's neck and leaned closer, then he kissed him.To his surprise, Spencer kissed him back. Their bodies moved to the rhythm of the music, nothing around them seemed to matter. To Luke, it felt way too soon when Spencer broke the kiss. He smiled at him, when suddenly his expression changed. Reid eyed toward a corner of the room, where a man was standing. The figure was wearing a hood and looked around the club with disgust. It was the unsub."Let's go!"They tried to move through the crowd without drawing to much attention to themselves, but when they almost reached him, the unsub spotted them and took off. The agents sprinted after him, and Alvez tackled the guy right before he could get out of the door. "FBI. You're under arrest", Reid spat, while cuffing the man who had murdered at least four gay men.--"Good job guys", Rossi said to the couple as the were handing the murderer over the police.They saw the rest of the team approaching them. Prentiss was the first of them to make a comment, "you two had fun in there?"Neither Alvez nor Reid dared to answer that, but the deep red on Reid face gave them away.Their unit chief winked. "Good."
10336118	Ace of Hearts	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Stargate SG-1", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Geminia [archived by stargatefan_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-12-31T00:00:00", "words": "5,832", "Additional Tags": "Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Action/Adventure, Missing Scene", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "StargateFan Archive Collection, The Alpha Gate", "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 }	Stargate SG-1 \| Missing Scene Fanfiction \| Ace of Hearts Ace of Hearts Written by Geminia Comments? Write to us at [email protected] SPOILERS : Anything from the Movie through Need CONTENT WARNING: Canonical minor character death The simplest things may become anchors against life's storms PG [D] [A] [Hc] Italics inside double quotation marks indicate direct quotes Joyful the sound, the word goes around From father to son, to son... And the voice is so clear, time after time it keeps on Calling you, calling you on - Father To Son by Queen "Daddy!" The squeal rang out down the hallway at the same time the front door opened. "Hey, Kiddo!" Jack laughed out loud as he dropped his duffle just in time to catch the small body that hurled itself into his arms. A book thumped against the back of his head, accompanied by a softer impact between his shoulderblades. It would only be a matter of time... "Read me story!" The demand was made with all the intensity and seriousness a three year-old could muster--accompanied by the requisite pout, of course. "Charlie, your father just got home," Sara scolded lightly as she made her way to them. Jack leaned down to give her a kiss, which ended in laughter as their son wriggled impatiently between them. "Welcome home, Jack." "Story, Daddy!" The little boy brought his head up between theirs, his nose brushing his father's as he stared him in the eye. "Pleeeease?" Sara gave Jack's arm a pat, knowing from past experience there was no way he could refuse that plea, and reached down for his bag. "I'll just take this to the bedroom," she told him with a smile, then left the two to their storytime. "Okay, Charlie, c'mon." Jack made his way to the recliner, positioning the boy on his lap as he sat. The familiar stuffed animal was positioned between them and he accepted the book he was handed, glancing at the familiar cover. "This one again? Don't you want Daddy to read you a new book?" "No. This one." Small hands slapped the book for emphasis. "Ok. Ok." Jack laughed and began to read. "This is George. He lived with his friend, the man with the yellow hat. He was a good little monkey--but he was always curious..." ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~* Jack lay on the sofa, his eyes closed and waiting for sleep to overtake him. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and his last day of leave and he planned to make the most of it with a nice nap now and watching a good game on the tube with the guys later that evening. Just as he began to drift off, however, he was jolted awake by a shrill screech from outside. "Charlie!?" He was on his feet and running before he realized it. As he reached the porch, he found his son, crying and shouting as he seemed to be wrestling with the neighbors' dog. Hurrying over, afraid the normally sweet-tempered lab had suddenly turned and bitten the boy, he was finally able to see the real problem. The dog had a familiar little form in its mouth, and Charlie was trying to tug it away. "Give...back!" The boy's growl was met with an answering one from the dog. As relief flooded through him that his son was not injured, Jack found it difficult not to laugh at the sight. At least, it was difficult until a pair of tear-filled eyes looked up at him, begging for his help even before the words left the child's mouth. "Daddy! Help!" "Charlie, he thinks you're playing." Reaching out, Jack put one hand over his son's and then gave the dog a smack on the nose with the other as he commanded sharply, "Hersh! Drop it!" The dog immediately released its hold with a whimper and padded back a few steps. Jack watched his son cradle his favorite toy to his chest, then reached out to give the dog a pat to let him know there were no hard feelings. "Daddy, lookit." Charlie drew his attention to the little stuffed animal he held. Cotton stuffing was hanging from a gaping hole in the left shoulder where the silver material had parted. "He's hurt." The boy sniffed loudly, his lower lip trembling. "Aww, it's okay, Charlie. Let's go inside and see if Mom can doctor him up." Jack kissed his son's forehead as he walked into the house. "Sara!" he called out as he headed through the house. "What?" A good-natured growl answered from the basement staircase as his wife made her way up with a basket full of folded laundry. "We've had a casualty among the troops. I need my CMO to have a look." He nodded down at Charlie, who was holding his toy up for his mother to see. "Hersh apparently decided he was in the mood for Ace a-la-mode." "Bad dog," his son grumbled. "Well, we'll just have to keep Ace inside from now on, okay?" Sara gave her son a smile, then raised her clothes basket up to his level. "Put him on here and I'll take him to...the infirmary and patch him up." Seeing his hesitation to let the toy go, she smirked up at her husband before talking to Charlie once more. "C'mon, Charlie, I'll take him to surgery and my nurse here will read you your favorite book while you wait." "Okay, Mommy. Make him better." He gave his friend one last hug before placing him on the basket and wriggling out of his father's arms. "Gonna get my book. Daddy, get in the chair!" He gave his father a push toward the living room, then hurried away as Jack turned to Sara, raising an eyebrow. "Nurse?" "Well, you didn't think I was going to salute you and call you 'Lt. Colonel, Sir', did you? Your ego's already big enough, I'm not going to stroke it for you." She knew she'd said the wrong thing the moment it left her mouth, so she wasn't surprised at the wicked gleam that came into her husband's brown eyes. "No, I'm not going to stroke that either, and if you're not careful, you'll be going back on duty a very frustrated grunt." "Ouch." Sara just laughed and made her way to their bedroom to mend Charlie's toy. Fortunately, it had mostly ripped along a seam, so the sewing job was relatively easy and left little 'scarring'. When she was finished, she headed back downstairs, stopping to watch for a few moments as Jack read to their son. "The great moment had come. George waved goodbye and went aboard. The door was closed. Professor Wiseman began to count: "Five -- four -- three -- two -- one -- GO!"..." ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ Jack stood in the hallway, his hands clutching the little toy tightly as he examined it closely. You could see just a small irregular stitch where Sara had sewn it up after Hershey had used it as a chew toy. The silver material was just a few shades darker in spots than it was originally--not bad considering it was one of only a few items that had survived the fire that destroyed their old home several years back. One foot was slightly smaller than the other, but was at least still attached to the leg; a testament to both the destructive power of a vacuum--not that the vacuum fared much better given the state of its belt afterward--and the sewing skills of his wife. There were a few small drops of dried paint and now a few larger drops of salty wetness. But there was no drop of red to be found. For a moment it seemed strange to him. Why was there no red? After all that had happened to this toy, why was this time any different? Because this time the toy had been sitting atop a shelf. It had not been taken out to meet the neighbor's dog. It had not been clutched in tiny arms as a desperate escape was made from a burning house or the new home was painted. It had not been accidentally left on the floor while breakfast was eaten and Mom was vacuuming. It had been set up on a shelf because the child who loved it for so long was now too old to carry a stuffed animal around with him. He had no longer needed a constant travel-sized companion or to have his father read him the same book when he was sick or just wanted time with Dad. His time had now been filled with playing ball and riding a bike. But just this once, why couldn't he have gone to play with his old friend Ace? Or gone to pick up the old, worn book and brought it to his father for old times' sake? "Mr. and Mrs. O'Neill?" The soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. Beside him, Sara rose slowly from her chair and one of his hands instinctively moved to her shoulder as he looked up into the doctor's sorrowful eyes. "I'm sorry. There was nothing we could do." He was only peripherally aware of Sara's keening wail as his whole world crashed around him with the deafening, echoing sound of a gunshot. ~~ The room was totally silent. Sara's father, Mike, had arrived soon after the doctor had led them to the small room, finding his daughter weeping over her child's still body and refusing to let Charlie go. It had taken much cajoling on his part and a mild sedative to finally get the distraught woman to leave the room. Mike had taken her home and Jack was left alone in the room with his son. He had been unable to provide any comfort for his wife, standing silently still, through the whole scene. His eyes had not moved from his son's quiescent face. Never had Charlie been so still. Even in sleep he would be restless, constantly shifting as though too much energy was stored in his small body and was forever seeking a release. He hadn't allowed himself to shed a tear. He'd heard it said that there was solace in grief--in the outlet that weeping provided. He deserved no such solace. He had failed as a father. He had allowed his child to come to harm--by his own weapon Now, alone with the damning evidence of his failure, he sat in a chair beside the bed. Ace sat nestled against Charlie's side and an old, worn book was opened to reveal the familiar words and pictures. "This is George. He lived with his friend, the man with the yellow hat. He was a good little monkey--but he was always curious..." Voice and heart seemed to break as one. Drops of salty wetness fell for the first and last time, leaving their mark on the ragged, curled pages of a book whose words would likely be forever silenced. ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ The house was dark when Jack pulled into the driveway. It was only nine o'clock, surely Sara hadn't gone to bed already. Maybe the electricity had been knocked out. Shrugging, he climbed out of the truck and reached around to pull his duffel bag from its bed. Amazing how what little he had stored at the base had already been packed up before he and his men returned from Abydos. You would've thought General West hadn't expected them back. Imagine that. He made his way up the steps and onto the porch, then stopped to look around him. He took a deep breath and just allowed himself to enjoy the fresh, cool air. There was a hint of ozone left over from the thunderstorm that he had followed on his way from the mountain. How long had it been since he had simply stopped to enjoy the clean scent of the air after a storm? How long since he had appreciated the sounds of crickets reawakening as nature resumed its course after the deluge? Maybe now he could understand it more. He'd been caught up in the storm, unwilling to fight for his own life. He'd been prepared to let the floodwaters drag him down. Hell, he'd been ready to take thousands of innocents down with him. Then, without even looking for it, he'd found shelter from that storm. A ray of light in the form of a young, idealistic, four-eyed geek. At least that's how he'd started out thinking of Dr. Daniel Jackson. Now, though, he was the man that had saved Jack, Kawalsky, and Ferretti along with all those thousands of innocents. Together, they had weathered the storm on a planet thousands of light-years away and that storm had transformed them both. Jackson was dead to this world now, not that the world seemed to care when it believed him alive. Yet, in his death he'd found life. Life on an alien world with a woman who loved him and a people that had adopted him as one of their own. Jack had gone to that world seeking his death, yet had returned to earth reborn. In helping to save the Abydonians, he had made up - in some small way - for his own loss. He'd given the boy, Skaara, the chance to live and experience things that Charlie never would: growing up, marriage, being a father, growing old. He'd imagined Charlie standing there when Skaara saluted him after the battle and knew that somewhere his son was proud of him and would not want him to throw his own life away. And it had only taken a stranger sacrificing himself to save him for Jack to wake up and once more fight the storm and enjoy the feeling of completion at its end. Now, it was finally time to renew his life. The key turned in the lock and he gently pushed the door open, dropping his duffel inside the door. The house was quiet and he could see no flickering of candlelight as he would usually encounter during a power outage. "Sara?" he called loudly and waited. The house remained silent. Could she have gone out for the evening? Deciding to try the light switch, he reached over and flicked it on. The room lit immediately and he could only stand and stare at the sparcely furnished living room. What furniture was left had been covered with white sheets. He made his way around the room, numb hands pulling at the fabric to expose the sofa and his favorite recliner. As the latter was exposed, the sheet fell to the floor unnoticed. Sitting on the chair's seat was a familiar stuffed animal and an old, worn book along with a slip of paper. He picked up the paper and instantly recognized his wife's handwriting. Jack, I don't know if you'll even be back to read this. I hope so, because I don't even want to think of the alternative. Whatever happens, I can't live this way anymore. He was my son, too, Jack. I miss him every day, but I keep going. I've tried to be here for you, but you only pushed me away. I can't do it anymore. I don't know if I'm strong enough to make it myself, but I do know I'm not strong enough to support us both while getting nothing in return. I'm leaving you the book and Ace. Maybe you can find some solace with them. I hope you can keep them close, remember what you--what we had and still find a way to go on. Charlie would've wanted that. Sara He stood there staring at the words for what seemed an eternity. Outside, he could hear the distant sound of thunder and the light patter of rain beginning to fall once more. Finally, he reached down, picked up the toy and book, sat himself in the chair and held on to his two treasures. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and listened as the rain began to pound harder on the roof and windows. A gust of wind blew through the screen door, snatching the letter from his hand and sending it floating across the room. The storm began to rage once more, but he was ready for it. This time there was no question. Life would go on and so would he. ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ Storms had come and gone over the last few years; each one proving harder to weather than the previous. He'd managed it, though, with the help of a new family. It wasn't a conventional family by any means. His 'kids' were all adults - one was even twice his age - and it had not been his choice to form such a strong bond with them. Military regs aside, the last thing he needed was yet another chance to screw up and lose someone he cared about. Little had he known how quickly these three mis-matched individuals would worm their way through his defenses and each secure their own place in his heart. One was an alien carrying the larval form of their worst enemy in his stomach. That fact alone was enough to make his inclusion in Jack's new family seem downright strange. However, it hadn't taken long for Jack to see the good in this man - only the amount of time it took for Teal'c to turn and fire on his own people to save a bunch of humans marked for slaughter. As they'd gotten acquainted, he'd discovered a fierce loyalty in the other man - a loyalty proven time and again in the heat of battle. Now, this former enemy was one of the few people that Jack called friend. The second, a female captain, was assigned to his unit despite his protests. It wasn't the fact that 'Sam' Carter was a 'she' that had concerned him - though her preconceived notion that this was the case made for an irresistable source of torment. What had made him less than receptive to her addition to his field unit was the fact that not only was she a scientist, but she had just arrived from the Pentagon of all places. Pencil pushers put on field duty equaled casualties in his book. He'd had to rewrite his book a bit, however, after seeing firsthand how well the Captain handled herself when it really mattered. She was a good soldier and he could honestly say he was proud to serve with her. Then there was the youngest member of his adopted clan. The same man who had seen him through that terrible storm nearly four years prior. The kid was another scientist, but he had long since forgiven him for that. At their first meeting, all he'd seen was a long-haired, four-eyed, geeky nuisance that he would have to put up with in order to achieve his goal of self-destruction in the line of duty. Then that same nuisance had put himself between O'Neill and a pointless death in the name of stupidity. By the time he and the remainder of his team had left that planet and Daniel Jackson behind, he'd developed a grudging respect for the young man that would later lead to a rewarding friendship. He'd been forced to watch helplessly as Jackson lost his new family and had been forced to rejoin the world that had so often rejected him in the past. The sight of the young man standing alone in one of the deserted hallways of the SGC their first night back, lost and seemingly abandoned to his fate by the same government that had been so adament that he be pulled away from his new home, had moved Jack to take the intergalactic waif back to his place. At the time it had seemed the only thing to do; Jackson had helped him once, now he was returning the favor. Little had he known where that small act of kindness would lead. Before he knew it, he had a civilian on his team -something that would never have happened if he hadn't seen how well the kid handled himself on that first mission to Abydos - and a head of rapidly greying hair. If he'd known that Daniel was to become the galaxy's whipping boy - he probably would've still had him on the team. He'd very quickly come to the realization that he could deny the man practically nothing. A fact that Ferretti seemed to constantly find great amusement in reminding him of while conveniently forgetting his own inabilities in that department. He couldn't think of a sole member of the SGC that Daniel hadn't managed to charm. Even General Hammond, the SGC's tough-as-nails C.O. had soon turned into a combination teddy bear and pussy cat after constant exposure to the Jackson Charm. Not that he'd ever let the General hear him say that, of course. He knew first hand that the 'teddy-cat's teeth and claws were still very much intact. Given the odds, he really couldn't blame himself for falling under the spell as well. Besides, he could think of much worse fates than having Daniel Jackson for a friend. What better qualities could one hope for than unswerving loyalty and compassion, complete honesty, and a self-sacrificing nature. Okay, he could do without the last. So could the forementioned greying hair. How many times had Daniel died, or nearly died now? There was that lovely moment on Ra's ship when he'd saved Jack from his own stupidity. The incident on the Nox world - okay, so that had been a team effort to reach the other side, but it still counts. Couldn't forget that nice little mind game that good ol' Nem had played on them - and it wasn't from lack of trying. He'd put that episode behind him for the most part, but there were still nights that he woke in a cold sweat with Daniel's screams ringing in his ears. By far, though, the worst of them all had been the moment he'd walked away and left his friend to die, alone, on Klorel's ship. The younger man lying in the hallway with half his chest charred away, telling him to go and offering to watch their backs had been the worst moment of his life since... No, not going there. At the time it seemed as though they were all on a suicide mission and that Daniel was simply going to die a little earlier than the rest. That knowledge was the only thing that had allowed him to leave the young man's side. 'No one gets left behind'. That was his rule. He'd broken it that day and the suicide mission had turned out to be anything but. They'd won. They'd defeated their enemy and kept the world safe, but as he'd stared out of his damaged glider at the planet that owed its existance to a man it had previously scorned, he'd prepared to mourn his friend yet again. Jack stood in the gateroom, prepared to celebrate their victory along with everyone else -- and then drown his grief in the privacy of his home -- when suddenly a new reason for celebration had appeared. Daniel Jackson, alive and well, emerged from the crowd. His blue eyes lit up as they fell on the rest of his team, but he hesitated just a few steps out of the throng. There was an uncertainty about the younger man, almost as though he was not sure they'd be as happy to see him as he obviously was to see them. Jack knew he was grinning like an idiot as he shook his head slightly in disbelief at the other man's inability to comprehend his own worth. He wasn't really aware he had moved at first, but the moment he opened his arms wide and engulfed his friend in a bear hug, he knew exactly how much Daniel meant to him. He realized how much he depended on the young man to be there. How much he'd grown to rely on that steady presence at his side. He could not picture walking through that 'gate without him. Somewhere along the line the unassuming scholar had managed to secure a place in Jack's heart that no one would ever be able to fill. Yet, that bond had come at a price. Daniel had died, almost died, or been presumed dead more times than he wanted to think about. How many times had the young man been patched back together since their first meeting? "Space Monkey." The words slipped out seemingly of their own accord and as he pulled back, cupping his friend's face briefly as he drank in the sight of him, he could see the confusion on Daniel's face at the nickname just before it was absorbed by a shy smile that lit his entire face. ~~ ~~ ~~ Jack sighed as he thought back to that day in the gateroom. Had it really only been a few short months ago? It seemed like a lifetime. Running a hand through his hair, he looked down at the frail form on the bed before him. Brow knitted in pain, hair wild and sweat-drenched, skin far too pale and hands clenching the sides of the bed, the spectre of his friend lay whimpering in his restless sleep. Jack recognized the signs; it would be only a matter of moments before the young man awoke from whatever nightmare he was currently trapped in. He longed to reach out and touch Daniel; let him know a friend was near and he wasn't alone with his torments, but he'd learned the hard way that it only made matters worse. Daniel had wrapped himself in a cloak of shame and guilt, convinced that he was undeserving of his friends' compassion and forgiveness. It tore Jack apart to see the younger man this way. Any real transgressions had been forgiven back in that damn mine. The only thing Daniel had been guilty of was taking off after that royal-- Jack cut himself off there. He didn't even want to think about Shyla right now. The only thing it accomplished was to make him want to go back to that planet and rip the little bitch's head off. She was the one to blame for all of this. No one else...well, that wasn't exactly true. He couldn't help blaming himself either. Daniel had messed up and when this was all over, they would discuss his vanishing act, however, the archaeologist could never have stood by and let anyone take their own life if he was in a position to stop them. The day he did would be the day he was off the team for good--and this time it wouldn't be Hammond making that decision. No, that was just Daniel being Daniel. He should've been prepared for it the moment he saw the cloaked figure of a woman in amongst the Jaffa. Undoubtedly, Daniel's thoughts had turned immediately to his lost wife and his actions shouldn't have come as any surprise. Wasn't he supposed to expect the unexpected? Yeah. Just like he should've noticed that one of his team -- the civilian, no less -- was still shackled during their spectacular escape attempt. The thought of Daniel's broken body beneath all that rubble still left a foul taste in his mouth. And, damnit, it had put the younger man straight into that spaced out little tramp's hands. He could clearly remember the last time he'd seen his friend--his real friend. Daniel had been unconfortable in their presence; not happy at all about the clean, fancy robes he sported as they toiled in the filfth, but wanting to see them--to let them know he hadn't forgotten them and was working on getting them free. The man that came down that second time and had returned with them was not Daniel. It was some stranger, created by that damn sarcophagus and nurtured by Shyla. Its name was Addiction and even if it had controled Daniel's mind and body, it was no part of his true self--it would not claim his soul. Neither he, nor Carter or Teal'c would allow that to happen. A gasp pulled him from his thoughts once more and he found a pair of wide, frightened blue eyes scanning the room frantically as the nightmare melted away and Daniel focused on his surroundings--on him. "It's okay, Danny. You're safe," he assured gently. He didn't expect a verbal response and didn't receive any. Daniel hadn't spoken for two days. Not since their wrestling match in the storeroom. When Daniel finally emerged from Addiction's grasp and Withdrawal's hellish assault only to find himself pointing a gun at his best friend's face. He'd crumpled before Jack's eyes and the older man had not hesitated in taking his friend in his arms, offering him the comfort that was so desperately needed. That was the moment that Jack had realized the truth about Daniel and the stranger that had occupied his body for so long. His anger at what had seemed a betrayal to him slipped away into a sadness for the friend that he'd almost lost and a determination to not only retrieve his friend from the ruins, but also his teammate. His faith had been shaken and he knew it would be a while before he could be certain of his ability to trust Daniel in the field again. How strong of a hold would the sarcophagus have over him? He knew something of drug and alcohol addiction and the temptation they could continue to present even after you think yourself clean and sober. How much worse could something as insidious as a goa'uld immortality machine be? It didn't matter. Daniel would get past it. He had to. Jack could not picture SG-1 surviving without the archaeologist and he knew he didn't want to contemplate going on without his friend. He'd faced that future back on Klorel's ship, but this time circumstances were not out of his control. This time, he would not be forced to abandon his friend to a lonely death. This time, there was something he could do. "Danny, there's someone here I'd like you to meet." Reaching down into the small bag resting at his feet, he pulled out a small, stuffed animal dressed in silver. "This is Ace." He held the toy up and smiled at the puzzled crease that appeared in Daniel's brow. "We got him for Charlie soon after he began talking. He couldn't pronounce 'Space Monkey' so we shortened it to Ace." He watched realization spread across the younger man's features and had to laugh. "Yes, Daniel, you've just met your namessake." Reaching out, he plopped the little monkey down on Daniel's chest and watched as shaky hands moved up to hold the toy with the utmost tenderness as the archaeologist inspected it. His fingers brushed lightly over each of the stitches and blemishes obviously not a part of the toy's original make up. "Yeah, he's been through a lot in his time; got a lot of scars, but he's still in one piece," Jack caught the younger man's eyes as Daniel happened to look up from his inspection of the toy and held the gaze as he continued, "and he's never failed to be there when he was needed." Blue eyes welled with tears at his words and Daniel started to turn his face away, but Jack was prepared for the reaction and reached out to gently catch his friend's cheek and prevent him from retreating. "Listen to me, Daniel. How we ended up in those mines isn't important right now." His tone left no doubt that the matter would be discussed at a later date. "What's important is that you never stopped trying to help us. We know that. The fact that we're all here is proof enough that even when that thing had control, there was a part of you still fighting for us." He gave Daniel's cheek a pat, releasing his hold and sitting back, certain that the younger man wasn't going to turn away now. "That's not to say we weren't mad or feeling betrayed, but we're your friends, Danny. We've already forgiven you, but now the rest is up to you." Jack watched as Daniel closed his eyes and seemed to consider his words for a few long moments. Finally, when they reopened, there was a spark of life -- a glimmer of the old Daniel -- in them and he knew his friend would eventually make his way back to them. Deciding it was time for a distraction, he reached back down into his duffle and pulled out a thin, tattered yellow book. He was aware of Daniel's curious gaze directed toward him and smiled. "So, Danny, you like Curious George?" One look at the perplexed look on the younger man's face and he had his answer. "Oh, don't tell me you've never read Curious George! Doctor Jackson, I'm surprised at you. Spouting off all those Egyptian fairy tales left and right, but never read a true children's classic." The exaggerated indignation in his voice had the desired effect as a small smile crept onto his friend's face. "Well, it looks like it's time for an education, Doctor, but given that neither of us needs Ferretti getting wind of me reading you a bedtime story..." Reaching over, he took Ace from his perch on Daniel's stomach and placed him on the bed at the younger man's side. "I'll read to Ace and you can listen in. "'This is George. He lived with his friend, the man with the yellow hat. He was a good little monkey--but he was always curious.' Gee, wonder who that sounds like." He glanced over at the man on the bed. "Did they teach you that gesture in linguistics class, Dr. Jackson?" Yes, his friend was definitely coming back to them. He only hoped his teammate would as well. "George was alone this morning..." ~*~ Somewhere a boy smiled as his father's voice, once silenced, carried memories of love and warmth to him through the words of an old, torn book and the ears of a cherished toy. The End Quotes are taken from the story 'Curious George Gets a Medal'.This is my first serious 'Jack-centered' piece. Thanks as always to my wonderful Alpha/Beta readers, Judy and Lea. It is also a belated Happy Birthday Fic to Judy. © November 28, 2001 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characterswho have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership.This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.
10313732	Panic above the earth	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Kara Danvers, Alex Danvers, Lena Luthor, Winn Schott Jr., Hank Henshaw \| J'onn J'onzz", "Fandom": "Supergirl (TV 2015)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Milo_Zander21", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-15T00:00:00", "words": "880", "Additional Tags": "Tumblr Prompt", "Relationship": "minor supercorp", "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 }	Panic above the earth Kara pushed with all her might using every bit of strength she had but she could feel the air thinning out. She could feel the freezing air from outer space biting at her heels but the thing that got her more was the terrified face of her sister. Looking into her sister’s eyes Kara could see the doubt cloud her mind that maybe, just maybe nothing could prevent the ship from leaving earth. When her sister put her hand on the glass and Kara mirrored the action, that’s when the panic set in for the Danvers sisters. Alex was panicking because she knew her sister wouldn’t let go of the ship not with her on it, she was panicking because once her sister left earth’s atmosphere she wouldn’t ever be able to get back down.Kara was panicking because she couldn’t lose the most important person in her life, she knows she wouldn’t be able to go one without the older Danvers. Kara’s mind flashed to the last time she was stuck in space the stark reminder of the cold and darkness. There was a Kryptonian word for when she felt but it didn’t translate to English, the closest word she could think of was purgatory but even that didn’t do it justice.As the ship ascended higher and higher Kara felt her comm buzz, she kept looking at Alex as she answered.“Hello.” Kara said breathlessly.“Kara.” The broken voice said.Kara would recognise that voice anywhere in the world no matter what distance.“Lena.” Kara choked out. “I don’t think I can stop the ship but I can’t live in a world where Alex isn’t here.”“I know which is why I called you. I have to get this out just in case I never see you again. First, I need to say thank you for saving me. Thank you for believing in me against all the odds. Thank you for being my friend it meant the world to me. Most of all I’d like to say thank you for loving me. I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again and you probably already know this but you need to hear it because I never said it back. I love you too.” Lena sobbed out before saying. “Goodbye Kara.”The line went dead as a few stray tears fell from Kara blue eyes. Kara looked back at her sister knowing she heard every word, now Kara felt dread along with the panic. That’s when things get blurry for Kara; she couldn’t breathe, could feel her whole body start to shake and her vision started to blur.“Kara you need to breath, deep breaths in and out. Focus on my voice, focus on the rhythm of my heart. I can’t lose you Kara you’re not just my sister, you my best friend, my person. I need to you focus put everything out of your mind. Remember that time when mom went away for that weekend conference and we decided to see just how much pie you could eat. Remember that from the day on once a year we see if you can beat your pie total. i need you to come back to me because the Danvers sister’s still have lots of adventures to go on. Kara it’s moments when were sitting on your couch watching a ridiculous program you’ve picked and even though I complained about then, I secretly loved them. It’s moments like that which are worth fighting for because as soon as were out of this mess that’s exactly what where gunna do so I need you to fight Kara. I need you Kara Zor-El the last daughter of Krypton to fight for all the moments that make life worth living. El Mayarah.” Alex sobbed out.Kara’s eyes suddenly snapped open as she looked directly at Alex, they were so close to the edge it would be nearly impossible to stop the ship now but Kara didn’t travel two thousand light years to fail. So she pushed back with even more force, she let a raw scream out and she continued to push and push the ship back to earth. Kara screamed and screamed until she felt her throat burning from the screams leaving her body. Alex could’ve burst into tears when she felt the ship come to a stop before it started it’s steady descend back towards earth. Kara cried in relief when she realised she’d actually done it, she’d stopped the ship and saved her sister. At the DEO, everyone started clapping and cheering, Winn sank further down into his chair and exhaled a breath. J’onn closed his eyes and thanked every god possible for the sister’s return, he couldn’t imagine a life without Kara or Alex. Lena sat in her office crying with sadness, relief, anguish, hope. Kara had done it and had survived, for once in her life she felt truly happy.The second Alex stepped of the ship she was swept up into a bone bruising hug and she knew only one person who would do that to her.“Kara.” Alex cried as she reciprocated the hug in full force.“Can we agree to leave spaceships alone for a while?” Kara asked.“Definitely.” Alex laughed out.
10371153	Angels of the Morning	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The A-Team (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by brooklinegirl", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2001-02-19T00:00:00", "words": "1,641", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "H. M. \"Howling Mad\" Murdock/Templeton \"Faceman\" Peck", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Angels of the Morning 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 }	Face woke up all at once, fully awake, no twilight between sleep and utter alertness. His instincts told him not to move and he merely cracked his eyelids, peering at the woman sprawled beside him on the bed. Her breathing was steady and deep, eyelids moving slightly in REM sleep. She wasn't waking up anytime soon. Good.He shut his eyes again for a moment. He always stayed, looking for something in sharing a bed for the night. Something he never found. He'd wake up in the morning, every cell in his body tingling with regret, wishing he'd taken the opportunity to escape the night before. Like an alcoholic with a hangover, he regretted it each time, swore never to put himself in that situation again. Then found himself making the same decision to stay with the next woman he went home with.What was that definition of insanity Murdock had given him? Ah, yes: doing the same things over and over again, and expecting different results each time.He slipped out of bed silently, easing himself out from under her hand where it curled on his chest, as though she had tried to gain a hold on him in her sleep. She didn't wake, only curled herself deeper into the pillows.He stood next to the bed, looking down at her sleeping, tousled form. She was a nice girl. Not like some of his conquests. Brown hair curled around her steady, sleeping face. She was smart. Funny. Pretty damn sarcastic. He liked that.She didn't deserve to be left like this.He shook his head and began to retrieve his clothing, backtracking through the apartment. He scooped up his boxers from the bedroom floor and padded silently out to the living room to slip them on. Pants. Hmm. A moment of searching, and he discovered his pants in a pile next to the fireplace. His shirt was flung across the back of the couch, and he had to take a minute to unearth his tie from the couch cushions, where it had somehow become mysteriously entangled with her bra. He freed it and slipped into his shirt, leaving the tie loose around his collar.Shoes were another challenge, as he had no memory of taking them off. He finally found one in the kitchen (he found her skirt on the kitchen floor, too, and picking it up, folded it neatly over the back of a chair), and the other kicked under the couch.He headed towards the door, quickly buttoning his shirt. He hated going unshowered, but didn't want to take a chance on waking her.Better for her to wake alone. No tacit promises, that way.She was smart. She had pegged him, played this for what it was last night. Not good enough, no, not for either of them, but something. Something better than sleeping alone.He lifted his suit jacket from where it hung neatly near the door and slipped out like a ghost, making sure the door locked firmly behind him, with her safe inside.He stood for a moment outside the front door, squinting in the early morning sunlight. Gathering himself.He headed over to his corvette and slid in, sighing with relief. Back in his own territory. Safe. He pulled down the rear-view mirror and grimaced at his reflection within. Sighed again and pulled out a comb from his jacket pocket, straightened his hair.He started the car, then paused and rested his forehead against the steering wheel for a moment. Tired. Tired in his soul, it seemed. Why had he stayed? Why did he always stay? What did he think he'd find there? He sat up and shook his head, threw the car into gear and drove away quick.~~~~~~*There was a problem with being Mr. Templeton Peck: no one ever thought he'd be lonely. So, if he needed to seek companionship, he had two choices. He'd either go out and find some pretty, nameless companion to go home with and assuage the desperate sinking loneliness for a bit of time, or he could call any one of the Team and actually admit to them that he needed their help.He rarely if ever made the second choice.It was easier by far to simply head out to a bar, or a club, or hell, even the grocery store, and kind of just put himself on the market. Dressed to kill, charming and suave, he could pick and choose his evening companion. There was never any chance of him going home alone if he didn't want to. And even then, women (and depending upon the club, men) would sometimes trail after him as he headed out, disappointed to be missing out on the opportunity to be the object of Face's affection.You'd think that would be enough to get him over his loneliness. And it was. Sort of. For a while, at least. Not all of the women were airheads. A few of them were really nice, as well as really pretty. He liked talking to some of them, as well as doing…other things with them.But there was never that click he was looking for. He was looking for something. Every once in a while, it would hit him, that he was missing . . . something. He could never figure out exactly what, but it would give him a permanent sinking feeling in his stomach, in his soul. A sense of irreplaceable . . . loss? Need? Want?Something.He'd lead his life as usual, not let it stop him, or slow him down. Not really. He was good at hiding. Even from himself. He'd try to force himself to forget, to pretend that nothing was missing, that he had everything a playboy could want. Life was fine. Well, except for the whole running-from-the-government thing. And the Robin Hood complex fostered by being with theTeam. But other than those things (and THOSE things, he was used to), he had everything he could want.Everything.So, why did he feel like this now?He stumbled home, feeling unwashed and tired, as though he'd not slept at all the night before. Well, there really hadn't been much sleeping, per se. He smiled a bit bleakly. Now he just wanted to get in the shower and wash off the dregs of the night, and promise himself he wouldn't do it again. Not go home with the conquest of the week. Or at least, if he did, not stay. Not seek false comfort from a warm body.Not till next time at least.He stripped off his coat, laid it carefully over the back of the couch, absently smoothing out the wrinkles. He stood still next to the couch for a moment, his mind blanking out, unable to move or think. Stuck there, stuck in himself, no recourse or direction. Just for a moment. Then he shook himself out of it, running his fingers through his hair. Sighed, and was turning to go take a shower when the phone rang. Picking it up, he said hello, and was honestly surprised to find his voice shaking just a bit."Time to wake up, kid, we got a mission." Hannibal's voice was jovial, much too awake for-Face squinted at the clock on the wall-6:30 in the morning."I'm awake, Hannibal, what do you need?" If Face was a little more accommodating than usual, Hannibal appeared not to notice."You spring Murdock and we'll meet you at the In N Out Burger near Sepulveda in about an hour.""An hour? Hannibal, how do you expect me to . . ." But Hannibal had already hung up and Face's whine went unnoticed by the dial tone. He sighed, and tossed the phone down, hurrying to the bathroom for a quick shower and shave, since he was late now. He grumbled to himself, about unrealistic time restrains placed by exasperating colonels. But he moved with a lighter step, and the lines that had creased his face since waking this morning seemed to lessen somewhat. He looked younger, even, and as he set the shower to running hot and stripped off his clothes, there was a smile on his face. He caught sight of it as he quickly brushed his teeth, and brought his features into a scowl, determined to be annoyed at being rushed, at being needed.But the frown didn't last, and as he stepped into the shower, he was humming a bit.Clean and shaved and dressed in a nicely cut gray suit, he smiled at himself in the mirror, pushing a lock of hair back into place. Frowned at the slight break in the cut of his jacket made by the shoulder holster. Nothing for it, though, and he sighed and headed out the door, a spring in his step as he went, checking his watch. They were going to be late for meeting Hannibal, which he was sure would lead to a lecture of sorts, and probably commentary on his conning abilities, or lack thereof. He set that aside, concentrating on a viable scheme for springing Murdock as he settled himself contentedly behind the wheel. He was turning over various possible schemes for picking up Murdock (disease of the week? Psychological study? Military burial for an uncle?) as he drove off.Heading out to save the day again. Do the work for which it seemed he was made. Follow Hannibal's orders, his plans, get caught up in the Jazz. Get to see Murdock. That last thought especially made him happy, and he grinned, wondering which fixation the pilot would be wrapped up in today. Something sure to drive BA wild, and he sighed with easy contentment, following the familiar route through Westwood to the VA.Time enough to deal with the emptiness later.Today he was just Face, and that was enough.
10398294	stand by you	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Josh Dun, Tyler Joseph, Tyler Joseph's Family, Jenna Black", "Fandom": "Twenty One Pilots", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by heyitsbabz", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-21T00:00:00", "words": "1,441", "Additional Tags": "Weddings, Angst and Fluff, That's it, that's the fic, josh admits his feelings, ambiguous ending", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Josh Dun/Tyler Joseph, Jenna Black/Tyler Joseph", "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 }	“I'm in love with you.”It’s said so defeatedly, finally getting it out in the open and Josh can't help shifting his gaze away from Tyler’s sure to be judging stare.They’re in a secluded room, lights bright around them as if to emphasize how angelic Tyler is and mock Josh at the same time. Tyler had been fixing his bowtie in the mirror, fretting over what his bride-to-be would think of it and Josh had lost all self control, his heart pounding against his chest with the need to let him know how he feels before it’s too late.“I’m in love with you,” Josh repeats, looking up and locking his eyes with Tyler’s. His breath hitches and his cheeks flush at the look on Tyler’s face. “God, Tyler, I’m in love with you.”And Josh’s voice cracks, opening the dam for the tears he didn't know he was holding back to spill onto his cheeks.No, Josh thinks. No, no, no, this can't be happening right now.But it is and when Tyler doesn’t say anything, Josh has to swallow down the sob rising in his throat. He wouldn't be weak, not here. When he gets home, yes, he’ll drink the night away and forget this, this feeling weighing down on his chest, but not here.Not in front of Tyler.“It’s okay, I know,” Josh takes a shuddering breath, trying to compose himself. “I know you love Jenna, I do. And I'm happy you two found each other and—and make each other feel—”“How long?” Tyler cuts him off.Josh ignores the pang in his chest again, the feeling becoming so constant and so natural, the persistent nag at the back of his head never dulling even now.“What?” Josh replies quietly, eyes meeting the floor.“Don't play with me, Dun,” Tyler snaps, hand suddenly pressing down on his shoulder and shocking a gasp out of Josh. “How long?”Josh’s tears burn on his cheeks, “For as long as I can remember. Since the day we met, maybe.”“Jesus.” Tyler whispers, dropping his hand. “Jesus, Josh, why didn't you say anything?”“I don't know,” Josh admits. “But it doesn't matter, because you’re getting married.”“It does matter!” Tyler raises his voice while tugging at his hair. Josh flinches and Tyler lowers his voice to barely above a whisper. “It matters, Josh. It matters.”It sounds so hurt, so betrayed and sad that Josh instantly regrets saying anything, for admitting this on Tyler’s wedding day, for God’s sake, how could he do this to him?“Don't do that,” Tyler steps closer to him, reaching a shaking hand up to cup his cheek. “Don’t regret telling me. Please, just.”Tyler sighs, eyebrows furrowing as though the English language can't quite articulate what he wants to say, like his thoughts were jumbled into so many different sentences and maybe they were, but Josh just sees Tyler.He sees him when they’re cuddling and watching dumb cat videos on the tour bus or playing super smash bros. He sees them on their late night Taco Bell runs. He sees them holding hands through their bunks because Josh’s anxiety starts acting up. He sees them hugging and crying because sometimes it all gets too much for Tyler, for him and all they can do is find solace in each other. He sees them in gas station bathrooms, joking about how life is always full of surprises.Life is full of surprises, because Josh never thought he’d fall in love with his best friend. He never thought that one day he’d lose his chance because he couldn't just work up the courage to admit his feelings. He never thought it, not once, that the possibility of Tyler not being entirely his would ever come true, the idea sounding completely absurd to him. And yet... that’s what’s happening.It’s happening in a few minutes.In a few minutes, Tyler will be happily married to the love of his life.And all Josh will be able to do is mourn what could of been and what will never be.“I’m sorry, Tyler,” Josh chokes out, leaning into Tyler’s hand despite himself. “I’m so sorry.”Tyler shakes his head, his thumb caressing and running along his cheekbone, wiping away the tears continuously spilling from his eyes. Josh closes his eyes and lets himself relish in this moment, knowing that after this the confession would go and be forgotten, wiped from Tyler’s memory to not ruin their friendship.Brothers, Josh thinks bitterly. Bros for life.“I’m sorry,” Josh repeats, because it will never be enough, he will never be enough for the boy in front of him.Tyler smiles sadly before leaning forward and Josh has no idea what’s happening until soft lips are being pressed up against his. It’s far from perfect, Josh’s chapped lips probably feel gross against Tyler’s, the thought of actually kissing him today (or ever) never actually crossing his mind because it seemed so impractical and the shocked involuntary sound that rips its way out of Josh’s throat surprises even him.A hand winds itself at the back of Josh’s head, twisting into the red locks at his nape and the hand on Josh’s cheek slips down to his chest, resting just above his heart. Josh parts his lips, wanting nothing more than to deepen the kiss when the realization hits him that this is a pity kiss.He pulls away abruptly, heaving a breath, the gust of air fanning along Tyler’s face as he licks his lips slowly, tauntingly, waiting for Josh to move in and kiss him again. The distant sound of shouting can be heard outside the room, but they ignore it, eyes focused on each other.“I don't, I—” Josh shakes his head, stepping away from him and taking a deep breath. “Don't do this to me.”Tyler considers, two beats passing between them before he speaks. “I love you, too, Josh.”“What?” Josh’s eyes widen and he doesn't quite believe him.“I said, I love you, too.”Josh doesn't want to believe him, he doesn't, but the look on his face suggests he’s being sincere and real with him and it’s too much for him, it’s too much.He brings his hands to his face and lets himself cry. He cries for the loss he’s about to experience for good, his sobs racking through his entire body when he feels Tyler’s arms wind around him, holding him close and keeping him up.Tyler has always and will always be his rock, the person who grounds him and brings him back to the present whenever he starts to lose himself.“Why didn't you say anything?” Josh manages to say through his ugly sobs, the weight on his chest magnifying tenfold as he buries his face in Tyler’s neck and breathes in his scent.“I don't know.” Tyler whispers, so broken and beaten that Josh pulls away to look at him.Tyler is crying.The action is so quintessentially Tyler to burst into tears when someone else is crying that Josh can't help but laugh. He laughs and laughs until Tyler joins in and then, as if reminded of their situation, let their laughs die down until all they can do is stare.Josh has to let him go.Tyler’s mother peaks her head into the room, announcing that it’s time with a bright smile on her face before turning to leave.“Well,” He starts off, aiming for cheerful as he claps Tyler on the back. “I guess you better get out there and marry your girl.”“I guess,” Tyler sniffs.They both wipe at their eyes and laugh.Tyler holds out his hand and Josh knows exactly what he wants. They do their handshake, the movements a little stiff and uncoordinated in the suits they’re wearing, but once they have it done it feels like things move into place on their own, like a puzzle piece of two coming together to form the bigger picture.Josh stands next to Tyler as the priest pronounces Tyler and Jenna husband and wife. He’s next to him when Tyler kisses her with everything in him, the love and adoration he feels for her spilling into the kiss while everyone snaps pictures and cheers around them. He’s next to him when Tyler doesn't want to let go of her and he surprises himself by grinning so wide his face starts hurting.Josh is standing next to Tyler when he finally turns to him, cheeks flushed and a smile on his lips as they both look at each other with a mutual understanding.
10312553	Love Like You	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": "The Yogscast", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by YoGPoD", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-15T00:00:00", "words": "128", "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 }	"When I see your face,My heart loses its pace.Your eyes are always bright,Shinning me through the night.Your heart is strong and fierce,It could pierce.I want your love,But I think you're above.I wish you will see your errors,And cause happiness instead of terror.I love you to the moon back, even if you heart is black." Lomadia laughed as she folded the letter back up and put it in her memory box. Xephos had written it to her for something or another for Honeydew to be satisfied in the fact he could speak their language. Xephos walked in and kissed her head, whispering about making dinner. She smiled and followed him, joining him in the warmth of their own home.
10397601	Fever nightmare	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Kane, Richter", "Fandom": "Titanfall", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Teczesgirl", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-21T00:00:00", "words": "850", "Additional Tags": "yes i came up with this ship, and i want to write a story about it, so here it is, Apex Predators, Sickfic, why, because i want a fic that's more domestic, THATS WHY, Angst, fever nightmare, kane has the flu, Nightmare, pre-kane and richter death", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Kane/Richter, Rane", "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 }	Kane felt terrible. Even worse than when he would wake up in the morning after a drug and alcohol induced hangover. As a kid, Kane rarely got sick, only contracting a cold every few years at the most. But it seemed as though all his years of luck with illness had finally given way. Every other Apex Predator member had gotten the flu, but everyone agreed that Kane's was the worst by far. He had been bed ridden for about 4 days now, at least, that's what Richter told him.Richter had the task of taking care of Kane until he got better. This was because Richter got the mildest flu of the team, and was the most adapt to take care of him. He would have done it anyway. They had been the closest friends for a long time now, and even better lovers more recently. Though they could not say it out loud, the rest of the team knew, but no one else. Richter was looking around for any and all blankets in Kane's room and piled them on him as he found more. The main reason Kane would pilot a scorch most of the time was because he got cold easily, and that was even worse at this time. He kept shivering, almost violently at times, and it would take Richter to talk him down so he could be reassured that everything would be fine. This worked, surprisingly well, for someone as sick as Kane. "That should be the last one," Richter said, as he placed the last blanket on Kane's already heavy pile. There were at least 10 blankets piled upon Kane, who's shivering had become less violent, but was still noticeable. Kane tried to say thank you, but only managed a nod. He felt really bad for making Richter take care of him, even though he knew he would have whether or not Kane asked him to or not. "Now, I will be right back to get you some food, okay?" Richter asked, in case Kane needed him. "Hopefully I can keep it down this time." Kane joked. He could barely keep any food or drink in his stomach since he got the flu. He had a bucket with him whenever he ate just in case he couldn't keep it down.Richter smiled and left for the kitchen in the house the apex predators shared. Kane watched him leave, before closing his eyes, trying to fall asleep. Kane had another sickness induced dream. He wasn't sure if they were fever dreams, because he's had fever dreams, and knew that they were not like the ones he had now. But they were more like illness nightmares than dreams. He counted about 3 illness nightmares in the past few days, but this one was by far the worst. His dream had him envision Richter dying before is eyes, as he was forced to watch, unable to turn away, held down by some unrelenting force. He knew it was just a dream, but the screams of his lover sounded so real, that it made him believe that he had just lost the person he cared the most about.It felt like hours before he shot up out of his bed in a cold sweat. He couldn't tell if what he had just witnessed was real or some delusion, which caused him to go into panic mode. As he tried to move out of bed, the heavy weight of the blankets on him paired with his weak state, caused him to flop onto the floor, with his legs still trapped under the blankets. With half of his body in the floor and the other half still trying to free itself from the mountain of blankets, he couldn't help but sob and cry out, hoping that he could find someone to help him calm back down. He didn't even notice Richter run into the room until he felt himself being pulled to his chest and being cradled by him. "Kane, it's okay. I'm here, I'm here," Richter attempted to reassure Kane as the sobbing continued for several minutes. After nearly 20 minutes of calming words from Richter and the continuous rocking back and forth, Kane finally calmed down and his sobbing stopped. When Richter noticed the lack of crying from Kane, he drew back Kane from his chest to get a better look at him. He looked worse than when he left. Kane's eyes had become red and puffy, his nose was running from the crying, and he looked as if something important had been taken from him. He had no idea how close to the truth he was."I th-thought I'd l-l-lost you for-forever," Kane managed to choke out before tears began to reform at the corners of his eyes again. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I'm not leaving you anytime soon," Richter assured Kane as he wiped the tears away. Kane just nodded as he laid his head back on Richter's chest, not wanted to ever let go. Richter wasn't planing in letting go anytime soon either.
10386603	maris first day of high	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Katsuki Mari, Katsuki Yuuri, Katsuki Hiroko, Katsuki Toshiya", "Fandom": "Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Eldestmiddle", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-20T00:00:00", "words": "1,952", "Additional Tags": "katsuki fam, mari-centric, reference to girl gangs, Beating, i was sober when i wrote this, school life?, winners get katsudon, Being a teenager is hard", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "katsuki family values", "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 }	Mari is fifteen when she finally really looks at her baby brother.She’s just come back from her first day of high school half-blind because she mouthed off the wrong senior and got beat up by her gang. There are at least two loose teeth rattling around in her mouth and her father bursts into tears upon seeing her bedraggled form limp its way in through the inn’s front doors. The looks on the regulars’ faces make her think, ah, I should’ve jumped the fence to come in the back door, except, no, no, she couldn’t because she’s hurt and she’s hurting too much to jump the back fence right now.Hiroko is a lot more sanguine about her daughter’s disastrous freshman debut.“Go on to your room, I’ll bring some rice porridge for you and a compress. And stop wiggling your teeth.”Mari gratefully ducks past her frantic father to sidle down the hall. The quiet of the hallway is soothing to her pounding head. She stumbles into her room and falls in a somewhat controlled manner on the bed. Her chest is numb though that might be just the bruising.Her mother quietly opens the door and sets a tray down on her dresser.“I’ve left a cold compress and a wet towel. Get changed. You’ll feel better.”Mari mumbles something that could be a yes and Hiroko leaves her be.She doesn’t move until the porridge cools and the shadows have lengthened into twilight. And only then because she can feel herself beginning to stiffen up and knows that staying still will make things worse. Getting out of the uniform makes her groan and curse as she stretches tense and bruised muscles. It’s ruined and they’ll have to buy a new one. Another drain on the draining family budget. She wipes her face with the lukewarm towel and uses the melted ice in the compress to rewet the towel and give herself a sponge bath. There is a soft oversize tshirt of her father’s and her oldest sweatpants laid out. She crawls into them and, true to her mother’s word, she feels a bit better. Then she takes a deep breath and looks herself in the mirror.The verdict is terrible.The right side of her face is swollen and scraped from being smashed into the pavement. Her left side looks better though it doesn’t feel it, having been slapped and spit on. Her lips have split in multiple places and her hair is a mess, the braids long gone. Her clothes cover most of what was done to her body but Mari looks at her scabby hands and remembers her clenched fists getting stepped on and ground into the cement. Suddenly, she feels as though she is about to cry and she is horrified.“Nee-chyan?”Mari hurriedly wipes her eyes on the hem of her shirt. “What?” she snaps in a wavering tone and then immediately tries to soften her voice. “Does mom need something?”Yuuri is the undisputed prince of the onsen. Mari had been conceived late in her mother’s teenage years and there had been complications at birth which put Hiroko on medication with warnings to not conceive for a couple years. After Hiroko had gotten the green light from the doctor, the Katsuki couple had tried for another child, only to find that the complications had made a second pregnancy unlikely without expensive fertility treatments that would have to take place in another town. Toshiya had been willing to go the distance and expense but Hiroko had put her foot down. She had declared that if she had another child, it would be a blessing but she wouldn’t bargain her family’s stability on stacking the odds in her favor especially since it wasn’t guaranteed in the first place.Mari had been two or three at the time but she remembers hearing her mother cry with Minako-san in in the dining room after hours. Minako-san had offered a loan but Hiroko had staunchly refused even as she wiped away her tears. Toshiya had been the one to explain to Mari in halting words why her mother was so sad. She only found out about her own birth playing a role in this much later after Yuuri had already long arrived.Yuuri’s conception might as well been a miracle. Six years after Mari’s birth, her mother had been sick but assumed that one of the customers had passed along a virus. After the vomiting persisted with a hard bloating around the abdomen, Hiroko had feared the worst and quietly made a doctor’s appointment and had Minako-san take her in her car. She broke down in the doctor’s office after being told it was a pregnancy. Minako and she had clung to each other, sobbing and had to call a taxi to take them back to the onsen. Toshiya had been overjoyed and in tears himself after hearing why his wife had returned from a “day out with Minako” in such a condition.Mari had been mostly indifferent. She didn’t have much of a nurturing side and the thought of a sibling had been such an unbelievable abstract for so long that it didn’t seem quite real. She helped out more with folding towels and wiping dishes as her father had quietly told her to make sure her mother didn’t overwork herself, but she wasn’t particularly excited or angry about the coming baby.After Yuuri was born in a relatively easy birth, Mari lost any incipient interest in her brother upon being told that he was too small to play, talk, or understand her. That wasn’t to say that she didn’t understand how precious he was to the family and her mother especially but Mari found that having Yuuri didn’t lessen her parents’ regard for her or really impact her life inordinately. The one time she had thrown a tantrum about her mother bringing Yuuri along to her elementary graduation, her father had quietly pulled her aside to explain in very gentle terms the true miracle of Yuuri’s birth. Mari had treated Yuuri more tenderly after that but really had been much more busy with her own life and the problems of awkwardly starting to grow into an identity.Yuuri steps into her room, light feet and chubby cheeks. Pampered and indulged by family and regulars alike, her brother is a sweet kid, no trouble at all. He takes dance lessons with Minako-san, now that she’s retired from professionally dancing and is the apple of her eye. Mari looks away, a little ashamed that her baby brother saw her beaten up and about to cry. He folds himself down next to her with a grace that belies his round limbs and hugs her, looking up at his sister, solemn and patient. Despite herself, Mari finds that she’s smiling a little at him even with her cracked and bleeding lips.Yuuri is a good kid.Yuuri’s stomach growls into the silence, making her laugh in surprise.“Hungry, already? Didn’t mom give you enough at dinner?”Mari ducks her head to better hear Yuuri.“What?”Picking at the scabs on his knees, Yuuri mumbles, “Aki-kyun called me fat.”Mari stares at him, uncomprehending, before grabbing at her brother’s hands.There are little nicks and cuts on the heels of his palms that look like the scrapes on his knees. They look like he might’ve fallen down. On hard pavement.Her little dancer brother.Just falling.It is as though a supernova has gone off behind her eyes.Mari is abruptly furious, breathless and blind.Her soft, fat brother who learns ballet from his godmother is getting pushed around at school.It probably wasn’t the first time.Somehow, that makes everything about this day all the worse.She picks him up and sits him on her hip, wobbling slightly as she gets up. He’s probably too big to be picked up but he’s also probably too big for that lisp of his. The regulars didn’t help by baby talking him all the time, even though he was almost eight already.“C’mon. We’re both going to go eat.”“Now?”“Yeah, we’re going to eat katsudon.”Yuuri brightens up and cuddles his face against her bruised shoulder as she walks down the hall to the kitchen. She doesn’t even wince.“Katsudon? We’re eating katsudon?”“That’s right.” Mari yanks open the fridge. “Because we’re Katsukis, which means we’re winners. And winners get katsudon.”So Mari makes katsudon from scratch just the way her mother does with her baby brother balanced on her hip, which is no joke. She sits down and chews hot rice, egg, and breaded pork cutlet carefully with her wiggly teeth, cut up mouth, and split lips, and it’s worth it for the smile on her brother’s face as he devours his favorite meal as he assures her it’s just like mama’s.Mari tucks him back into bed, sleepy and full, after brushing his teeth for him as he nods off against her chest. Back in her room, the ruined uniform, the towel and compress, and the tray of cold porridge have already been taken away.Mari sits herself down in front of the mirror again and studies herself. She touches her hair, remembering how proud she had been of her two French braids that Minako had taught her to do. How fierce she thought they had made her look. Like the sport and music models in the magazines Minako had brought her from overseas. She digs through a drawer for a pair of scissors.Later, she knocks on her parent’s bedroom with an absolute mess on her head which makes her father nearly take fright again. Luckily, Mari hadn’t cut everything off so Hiroko nips down to the 24 hour conbini for some supplies. She mostly evens out Mari’s hair to a shaggy boycut and then sets a perm to soak in while she applies ointment to her daughter’s wounds. Hiroko’s almost nonchalant manner in which she handles everything goes a long way towards calming Toshiya who sits by his daughter with her hand in his but he knows better than to ask how he can make things better because the answer is he can’t.After the perm is rinsed out, Mari’s hair dries wavy and as fluffy as a lion’s mane, haloing her head. It flops over her forehead as well until her mother hands her a plain red headband. She pulls it over her head and back over her hair so that everything is pushed away from her face and admires herself in the mirror. Mari looks at her dad who smiles encouragingly and says, “You look beautiful, Mari-chan.”The next day, Mari jumps that same senior who sicced the gang on her.She skips morning classes to wrap her hands the way an older ex who boxed in his school’s club taught her and slips onto school grounds during the lunch break. When the girl steps away from her friends to go to the vending machine, Mari follows her to edge of the sports grounds. She yanks a drawstring bag over the second-year’s head from behind and pulls it tight. Taking advantage of the older girl’s surprise, Mari drags her behind the sports shed to throw her to the ground and starts whaling on her. The girl shrieks and tries to blindly claw at Mari’s face but Mari keeps one hand on the strings, half-strangling the girl as she punches and kicks her. Finally, the girl just curls up in a dirty, sobbing mess and Mari takes the bag off to spit in her senior’s face. She waits patiently as the second-year blearily reorients herself.“You!”“Me.”
10383096	Arrest	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri, Yuri Plisetsky, Yakov Feltsman, Katsuki Hiroko", "Fandom": "Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Anonymous", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-20T00:00:00", "words": "1,801", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Dimension Travel, but not really, Acceptance/Denial, Angst, be careful if you don't like that sort of stuff", "Relationship": "Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Anonymous", "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 morning is met with a freezing realization.The cold bed. The untouched bed sheets. A silent room.Oh, I see, Viktor thinks numbly, a single hand clawed by his side. I see. Katsuki Yuuri looks right at him, blankly, with a polite smile, and he does not know of Viktor. His heart clenches. It hurts, to witness the utter dismissal from the man he had once loved. Still loves. That love had been reciprocated, once. Not anymore. Because this Katsuki Yuuri has never watched him ever since he was young, gazing at his performance through a borrowed television with his two beloved friends. This Yuuri has never practiced all his programs with religious reverence, aspiring to perfect them one day. Here, he has never skated to that one perfect piece that brought Viktor into his life. This time, there is no aftermath of the banquet. There are no drunken escapades and giddy dancing. No requests to coach. They are total strangers. Here, he is not Viktor Nikiforov, living legend of Russia. Instead he is just Viktor Nikiforov, a figure skater who is well past his time. Yuuri is a late bloomer who is just getting his career started.Well, Viktor thinks ironically. Fate sure loves to mess around with him. The paces around the room are getting erratic and distorted, and his mind is a blank of white.No. Why is this happening? “So? What do you think?” Yuuri breaths heavily from where he stands, and skates closely to the side of the rink where Viktor is, observing. His face is flushed from the rounds he has made from the short program he is trying to perfect, forehead dripping with sweat. “Hmm...” Viktor hums, his mind going through the performance Yuuri has just skated, picking out the rights and wrongs, figuring the multiple ways for him to get better. Yuuri listens attentively as Viktor speaks, his head cocked to the side, cradled on one hand. He smiles lightly, thanking Viktor for his advice. It is as if everything is back to normal. Viktor is the coach, and Yuuri is the student, and they are in love love love looove- Beep. Beep. Beep.Beep. Beep.Beep.... “We meet again!” Yuuri chuckles slightly, looking at Viktor in the eye. “I guess it’s not surprising. All the best to both of us at the competition.” “Yeah!” Viktor gazes at Yuuri affectionately. Then, as if burnt, he looks away. No, he tells himself firmly. Yuuri is not his. Not in a world where they met differently. Confused, Yuuri cranes his neck up at him. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing!” Viktor squeaks. “I was thinking of training together again...” Yuuri mumbles. But then, his face pales with realization. “Oh no! I didn’t mean it like that. Of course you wouldn’t want to train with a competitor...” Seeing this, Viktor’s heart softens. It is in Yuuri’s character to jump to conclusions. “No, it’s fine,” he assures. “I was thinking that it was fun the other day, too. I learnt a lot from you.” Immediately, Yuuri brightens. “Let’s go, then.” If Yuuri had been alright, he would have been fine.He had just been fine, staying by his side. Viktor looks at Yuuri standing proudly next to him, smiling wide and raising his gold medal up high. This is all he ever wanted. Everything. Mama Katsuki places a huge bowl of Katsudon in front of Viktor, and he wolves it down immediately. Yuuri is standing by his side, clutching his hands together, hoping for praise upon his favorite meal. Yuuri is being silly. Of course he will like it. A smile is playing across Viktor’s lips as his tongue tastes the sweet sauce of the fried pork, and the softened steamed rice. He hasn’t eaten this dish in so long. Come to think about it, it’s been ages since... He pauses before another spoonful enters his mouth, and- A single tear trickles down his cheek. He hears the distant calls of Hiroko and Yuuri’s confused voices, but more tears begin to flow downwards. He does not bother to wipe them away; too overwhelmed with his feeling to do so. That’s right. When was the last time I ate something made by her? He skates and skates, and skates to his heart’s content. It has been so long since he felt like this. Yakov is watching grimly by the sidelines, and Yuri’s mouth is pursed as he observes yet another competitor to beat. (And this time it’s Viktor.) Yuuri scrutinizes his each and every move with a focused eye, smiling as he watches Viktor take the stage once again. His expression is crossed with determination and burning competitiveness. The crowd cheers his name. His heart soars, and he is breathing on how alive he is. He remembers his Yuuri; his calm eyes and warm presence, their closeness and his laugh, their late night talks and walks around the beach. He remembers the first time he had met Yuuri in his own timeline, Yuuri’s disappointed eyes and their night at the banquet later on. The viral video, Stay Close To Me. His visit to Hasetsu. His first meal there. Hiroko’s Katsudon. The first time he watched Yuuri skate. The first time Yuuri skated to Eros. The first time he skated to Yuri on Ice. The first time he ever stepped on the podium at the Grand Prix Final, Viktor standing proudly at the back. The night at Barcelona, in the church, surrounded by a melodic choir; Yuuri’s trembling fingers as he slipped the golden ring on Viktor’s finger. The love in his eyes as he gazed at him. The memories blur together, and he cannot forget. He misses his Yuuri. The Yuuri of his timeline. There are certain memories that makes Yuuri truly Yuuri. But he knows, that he cannot get back. He cannot get his Yuuri back. Slowly, he adapts. Yakov. Yuri. Mila. Georgi. Makkachin. Hiroko. Toshiya. Mari. Yuuri. They are not the people he truly knows, but there is no denying the fact that he loves them all the same. And he accepts. Slowly, gradually, he embraces it. Beep. He’d rather live in this dream. Forever. “It’s been a month...”“...He’s not waking...” Yakov crosses his arms, as Viktor spins for another round. He barks out more instructions towards Viktor, and Viktor gladly does it. He tells himself, this is Yakov. Nothing has changed. That’s right. Things are getting better. Things are getting better. Mari takes another long drag out of her stick. “You better take care of him,” she threatens. Viktor almost breaks out a laugh. He has been in this situation before. “I swear,” he promises. Because he will take care of Yuuri, no matter in which world he is, whichever timeline he is in. No matter what, he is in love with Katsuki Yuuri. He needs to wake up.To reality. Somehow, deep down inside, he knows. He just doesn’t want to accept it. “You bastard!” It hits him like a punch in his gut, and it may as well be. The words seem incredibly garbled, but Viktor hears it clearly. He turns around, looks everywhere, searching for the source. But he cannot see. Yuri. He can recognize his voice anywhere. Where is he? A face materializes in his mind. His eyes are red-rimmed, and he looks worse for wear, as if he hasn’t been sleeping for days. His eyes are searching, desperate, not like the Yuri he had seen a few days ago. “Why can’t you see?” The words are sharp, biting. Why can’t you see? It whispers to him, echoing, but he cannot understand. See what? Yuuri grasps onto his arm, eyes pleading. “Don’t be like this, Viktor. Wake up.” Why can’t you see? And he finally sees. The morning is met with a freezing realization.The cold bed. The untouched bed sheets. A silent room.Oh, I see, Viktor thinks numbly, a single hand clawed by his side. I see. He has finally woken, from a beautiful, cruel dream. He looks on, in shock, as the doctor busies himself in front of him.Yuuri lies on the bed, hung up with drips and and the various complicated medical equipment.The room is dressed with presents, flowers and get well soon cards.He looks as if he has been in this room for a very, very long time.That’s right.It is finally flowing back into him. Extremely vividly, his mind recalls the incident. Yuuri’s face, as he looks straight into Viktor’s eyes once more, before his last skate begins. No words are needed between them. They both break out into smiles, and Yuuri skates over to the center. The starting position, the beginning of the music, Yuuri’s body movement- Viktor is so, so, proud. But. It happens so fast- His head snaps up- NO. No. His hand falls limply to the side. All the while, Viktor has been dreaming.Dreaming, of all the things he cannot have.Of a man who is no longer by his side, of a figure that’s gone from his life. Of a love lost.All the while, he has been in denial.He weeps. “Are you done?” It is from behind him.Yuri Plisetsky stands high and proud, hands stuffed in his pockets.“What?” Viktor murmurs.“Are you done yet?” Yuri repeats.The teenager narrows his eyes at him. “If you’re done moping, please get off your ass and start moving on.”With that, he pushes past and walks straight towards Yuuri’s ward, without ever looking back. Even with that, he still doesn’t know.What should he do? Start moving on. Viktor stares at Yuuri’s face.Weathered, worn down from his coma, Yuuri still looks as beautiful as ever.(At least, that’s what he thinks.)The doctor’s words resound within him. “It has been a month, but there is still a chance of him waking up. With coma patients, it’s hard to tell when they wake.” In the corner, the heart monitor beats steadily.Viktor takes a deep breath and swallows.He slowly takes a seat by the side of Yuuri’s bedside, and gazes at his lover.He needs to move on.This time, there should be no denial of what has happened, no escaping for Viktor.Yuuri is in a coma for an indefinite time, and he has to face it. Yuri is right. Closing his eyes briefly, he thinks back to the Yuuri of the lucid dream he had dreamt. Happy, ideal.His lips quirk up bitterly.Yes, that had just been wishful thinking.And now, it is time to deal with it.His hand reaches out, and grasps on to Yuuri's unmoving hand. Their fingers intertwine together, and Viktor fixes a look, affectionately at Yuuri’s sleeping face.He just has to hold on to hope.
10346544	Fated to Meet You	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Akaashi Keiji, Bokuto Koutarou, Suzumeda Kaori, Bokuto Koutarou's Family, Kuroo Tetsurou, Original Characters, Hinata Shouyou, Kageyama Tobio, Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Nishinoya Yuu, Tsukishima Kei, Haiba Lev, Inuoka Sou, Konoha Akinori", "Fandom": "Haikyuu!!", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Tsukasa_Akabane", "chapters": "25/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-18T00:00:00", "words": "28,764", "Additional Tags": "Fluff, Light Angst", "Relationship": "Akaashi Keiji/Reader", "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 }	After two straight years. Two straight years of suffering, dealing with craziness and enduring the headache that always comes his way, Akaashi was a free man. Free from the Fukurodani ace, Bokuto Koutarou.Bokuto finally graduated and was going to go to a uni hours away from Fukurodani. The distance was enough for Akaashi to feel the relief of knowing that the ace wouldn't just suddenly appear out of nowhere to bother him again.He didn't really hate the guy. He actually considered him as his closest friend or even a brother. But he was too much. He has too much everything. Ego, energy and stupidity. Now a third year, the position of the captain were passed down to him or as Bokuto says, 'bestowed' upon him. He knew it will gonna be hard considering that the regular positions on the team used to belong to the majority of the third years. Now that they were gone, it was going to be a lot of work for Akaashi and the new regulars to find their rhythm. Also, without the ultimate ace Bokuto, the upcoming tournament were going to be a big challenge to the team. Well at least they have a capable manager to help him. The second year manager was new but already knows what to do and were quite a big help. She only joined them when the third years retired but she was a fast learner. And for that, Akaashi was really thankful.First day of class came and Akaashi felt a sense of peace as he walked alone the road. No loud whining, no scream of despair over something random and no Bokuto to ruin his very first day."GET OUT OF THE WAY!!!"Akaashi's eyes widened as someone screamed behind. Turning around, Akaashi found a girl with grey-white curly hair and golden eyes pedaling a bike. He could see her trying to clasp the brake. He realized it broke and she was going too fast when it happened.Being a gentleman as he was, he prepared himself. He know he might end up hurting himself but he can't just let a girl to get hurt."WHA-WHA-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" the girl's eyes widened as she saw him standing in the middle of the road, blocking her way.Without a word, Akaashi steeled himself and before the bike could run him over, he stepped aside and grabbed the bike handle."KYAAAA!!!" the girl screamed bloody murderer when the bike shook hardly.The bike stopped, but losing his balance, Akaashi stumbled. The girl didn't seems to care that he was falling though. Probably in fear or with her desperation to get away from the cursed bicycle, she jumped on Akaashi."Hey!" Akaashi's eyes widened but still wrapped his arms around her to support her.He fell on his back with the girl on top of him. He cursed his luck as he felt a stinging pain on his back. But... First things first. "Are you alright?" he asked the girl.The girl who has her face buried on his chest looked up and he almost screamed seeing her face. She looked somehow familiar. He didn't noticed it before but now that she was this closed..."HEY! THANK YOU!!! YOU SAVED ME!!!" the girl giggled as if her near death a moments ago didn't happen.Akaashi felt an upcoming storm as he stared at the girl. "M-may I ask your name?" Akaashi shook. No... It was impossible. It wasn't happening!Smiling widely, the girl sat up (she was straddling him now), still on top of him. "BOKUTO [Y/N]!!!"God do hates him. TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Err... Good Morning." Akaashi awkwardly said as he entered the gymnasium."Good morning Akaa-" Everyone trailed off as they saw a somehow familiar person, clinging to Akaashi's arms.The person which was a girl has a bright smile and looking around excitedly.Everyone stared wide eyed wondering where they have seen the girl. Ishii Shiho, the volleyball club manager was the one who broke the silence."Akaashi? Who is she?" she asked staring at the smaller form beside the captain and setter.Letting a sigh full of pain, he introduced the young girl. "This is [y/n]. Bokuto-san's younger sister.""EHHHH?!?!?!""Hello!!! I'm Bokuto [y/n]! Nice to meet you!!!" she introduced herself, letting Akaashi's arm go. She then stepped in front of the seniors and bowed her head respectfully."Err... Yeah. Nice to meet you too, Boku- Uhmm... [y/n]-chan? Can I instead call you [y/n]-chan instead of Bokuto-chan?" Ishii asked awkwardly. Calling the young girl, Bokuto was kinda weird.Shaking her head energetically, she smiled. "I don't mind!""I see. I'm Ishii Shiho. The manager of this volleyball club. Nice to meet you." Ishii offered the girl a smile.Sakai Sho, a second year wing spiker and most probably the one who would be taking Bokuto's place as the ace stepped beside Akaashi. "Why is she with you? Where did you find her?" the wing spiker whispered."Along the way. She lost control of her bike and I helped her." Akaashi sighed. "Later, I found out she is Bokuto-san's younger sister.""Heh. Bokuto genes seems to follow you everywhere." Sakai chuckled.Akaashi gave Sakai a small glare before turning to the female Bokuto. "[y/n]-san. You better go find your classroom before the opening ceremony. Come. I'll help you find it."Pouting, [y/n] turned to Akaashi. Now, that was Bokuto-ish. "Already? But I want to explore the place where nii-chan used to practice.""You're free to come here later. For now, let's find your class." Akaashi firmly said. Hopefully, this Bokuto would be a lot more easier to deal with than the previous ones."Okay~" she chirped and turned to Ishii and the others. She bowed her head once again. "Nice to meet you all again!" With that, she run over Akaashi and cling at his arms again."I'll be back." Akaashi said and glared at the other boys who were giving him amused looks.Akaashi wasn't sure what was with him and it seems that he tends to attract all the Bokuto's in the world.One week since the beginning of the class, [y/n] has already became too attached to him. It all started when he told her his name was Akaashi Keiji. Her eyes brightened after that and she began talking about her brother telling her about his setter, Akaashi. Akaashi couldn't understand most of what she said though since she was talking so fast.[y/n] was just as friendly as her brother, Akaashi observed. She gets along with many people not only with her classmates but also with those from different class and year. His teammates were also friends with her. At first, everyone were just curious and talked to her but later on, she became part of the group. But even though she has a lot of people she could hang out with, she seems to prefer sticking to Akaashi's side, clinging on his arms. Ishii jokingly said that she was like a baby chick who were following the first living thing her eyes landed on after coming out from the shell. Some of their teammates says that she was like her brother on that part.'Legend' says, Kuroo Tetsurou was the first one Bokuto saw when he was a first year joining the Fukurodani/Nekoma Training Camp. Since then, Bokuto and Kuroo were inseparable every training camp. Akaashi also remembered that the very first person Bokuto saw at the gym when he turned second year was him, Akaashi, a first year applying for the club. So maybe both siblings were like chicks.Looking at the girl, Akaashi could see Bokuto's features a bit. Not only the way she looked but also of the way she acts. Like Bokuto, she was loud, excitable, full of energy and tends to change her mood in one swoop. However, the way they act whenever they don't get what they wanted were different from each other. Bokuto, gets dejected and tends to become uncooperative. [y/n] on the other hand would either cry like a child or try to guilt you by giving you a sad look.Akaashi shook his head at his thoughts as he sat on the bench while the others were changing. He can't believe he already got [y/n]'s mood patterns and personality have it memorized in just a week. He seriously didn't ask for that."[y/n]-san? Please get down of that chair. You'll fall if you keep standing there." Akaashi said as the girl, for some unknown reason tried to balance herself in one foot while standing at the chair."I won't fall!" she said as she focused.Akaashi sighed. He really has no idea how these Bokutos think. "Did you decide what club to join in?" Akaashi asked hoping she would stop what she was trying to do (whatever it was) if he distract her with questions.Standing on her two feet now, she looked over Akaashi and smiled brightly, "Volleyball club!"Akaashi looked surprised, he didn't know she was into volleyball too. He haven't seen her touch a ball so he thought she has a different interest than her brother."I already sent my application and they asked me to come later," she said and jumped down."I see. I didn't know you play. What position?" Akaashi asked curiously."Like my brother! Wing spiker!" It seems that they were similar than he thought. But... Were their skills the same? Akaashi stood up and picked up the ball. "Should we try some spiking then?" Akaashi smiled a little.Eyes brightening, the girl nodded.Akaashi positioned himself near the net and thew the ball to [y/n]. [y/n] threw the ball back to him and Akaashi run under and set the ball up.Excitedly, [y/n] jumped and spiked the ball. The sound of the hit echoed through the whole gym, surprising Akaashi. The way she hit and the strength she put on it were the same as Bokuto's. Akaashi looked up to where the ball had flown to."It feels so good to spike!!! Hiyaaaaa!!!"Looking back at the girl, he wondered how far this girl's volleyball career would go.Setting a ball for Bokuto has always been the greatest thing Akaashi have done. He has a feeling [y/n]'s setter, whoever it will be would also think the same.Because like Bokuto, this girl was also.......a prodigy. TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- As Akaashi expected, [y/n] were also a volleyball genius like her brother. In just a few days of being on the volleyball girls club, she has already been making a name around the school.Since becoming part of the girl's volleyball team, Akaashi rarely sees her. That gave him a relief but at the same time, he couldn't help but to worry. Who knows what craziness she was doing now without him watching or to set her straight."Hey, Akaashi. I heard [y/n]-chan is a regular at the team now. Along with a first year setter." Sakai said one afternoon practice."That's Kawaguchi-san. Sakai-senpai." Mori Mikio, a first year libero said."Oh. You know her, Mori?" Sakai turned to the small libero.Smiling, he nodded. "We both came from the same middle school. She was a very timid person but it was totally different when she was on the court." Mori said."Eh?! Is she gonna be okay? [y/n]-chan is quite handful and being the setter means that she'll be working with her more than anyone."Akaashi listened to the talk. Nope. Not good. He needed to do something with [y/n] and her new setter or else he won't be able to stop worrying."Anyway, Akaashi. I'm surprised you didn't know anything about [y/n]-chan before. I mean, you're pretty close with Bokuto-san, right? Didn't he mentioned anything about her back then?" Sakai asked. "And, Mori here said that [y/n] was quite popular as a volleyball player back at middle school." "Bokuto-san mentioned her before. He also did asked me and the other third years to accompany him at one of his sister's match. But coach Yamiji told us later about the training camp. It happens that the day we'll be leaving for the training was the same day of [y/n]-san's tournament.""Oh. I see. I think I remember that training camp now. Bokuto-san was so heartbroken and was being uncooperative that day." Sakai laughed as he remembered how angry the coach was."[y/n]-san's team lost at that time too." Mori said. " I heard she was lifelessly playing on the court, their coach were forced to put her on the bench. Maybe she was sad that her brother wasn't there to watch."Akaashi shook his head at how similar the siblings were. He has yet to meet the Bokuto's parents and now, he was wondering just how did their parents raised them to the point of becoming like those."I'll never understand the way their mind works."Kawaguchi Chiemi sighed as she enter at the gym. All classes were done and now, its time for practice.Upon entering, she realized that she was the first one to arrive.When she joined, she thought she will be on the bench considering that she was a first year. But apparently, the team's setter already graduates so the position were vacant. As it happens, she was the only setter among the first years who joined.She was nervous for the upcoming inter high. Sure she played at tournaments back at her middle school days but it was different this time. Her middle school team was average. Not too strong, not too weak. But now, she was on Fukurodani's team and what's more with Bokuto [y/n].To her senpai's [y/n] was Bokuto Koutarou's younger sister. They believed she was strong because they were siblings and it run on the genes. But Kawaguchi knows her strength. Back at middle school, they faced [y/n]'s team and they lost badly. No one could stop [y/n]'s attack, it was one of their most embarrassing match.But now, she was on the same side as [y/n]. She will be setting for her. That made her nervous."Morning." a voice greeted as two girls entered the gym."Good morning, Eguchi-san, Bokuto-san." Kawaguchi greeted and raised an eyebrow seeing a dejected [y/n] being led by the first year libero, Eguchi Madoka. "Uhmmm... Is there anything wrong with Bokuto-san?" Kawaguchi asked.The libero chuckled. "Well, you see at lunch break, this girl suddenly declared at the classroom loudly that she was in the mood to eat korokke bread. But as she got at the cafeteria, she found out that they were sold out so here's the dejected [y/n] again."Everyone on the team were already warned by the coach about [y/n]'s strange behavior. The third year (who were already used seeing such a scene thanks to the previous Bokuto) seems to accept it without a question and promised to cater whatever ridiculous idea she has. For a few weeks, Kawaguchi have seen her sudden change of moods. But she has never seen the wing spiker so heartbroken like this. As her setter, she wanted to do something for her but she has no idea how to deal with the other girl's mood right now."[y/n]-san?" a male's voice called out from the gym's entrance.The three girl's turned and found a stern looking black haired guy they recognized as the men's volleyball team captain."Keiji-tan." [y/n] muttered still on her 'mood'.Eguchi tiptoed to Kawaguchi. "Hey. That's Akaashi-senpai, right?" the libero whispered."Yeah," Kawaguchi nodded."He's kinda cute," the libero giggled."Here." Keiji raised his hand to [y/n].Seeing what on the male's hand, [y/n] perked up. "Korokke!"Smiling with almost not visible smile, the captain nodded. "I heard you want this.""Yeah!" [y/n] smiled brightly."Then, go ahead and take it.""Yay! Thank you!!!"The two other girls watched in amazement. It was hard for them and their senpai's to do something about [y/n]'s mood but Akaashi made it look easy.The following day, Akaashi was summoned to the 1st gym that the girls volleyball club were using."Sorry about this, Akaashi, but you see, were in the middle of the practice match against another school when [y/n]-chan's mood suddenly changes and we don't know what to do. The match is over now and we did managed to win but [y/n]-chan was still being uncooperative." Hirano Chiyoko, the girls team captain, looked apologetic as she led Akaashi to where [y/n] was."Don't worry about it." Akaashi said, his face shows no emotion.Akaashi found [y/n], curled up, lying on her side under the bench. Akaashi stared blankly. "Why is she lying down under the bench?"Hirano sighed. "That's her comfort place when she is sulking.""Come now. We won, alright?" the first year libero tried to cheer her up but the younger Bokuto remained unmoving."Akaashi is here!" Hirano declared ordering everyone to step aside."[y/n]-san?" Akaashi reached over her shoulder and shook her.Rolling to Akaashi's direction, she looked up to him teary eyed. "Keiji-tan...""Please, come out of that bench and let's talk alright?" Akaashi said in a softer tone. Unlike her brother, [y/n] was a lot more delicate. His tough treatment to Bokuto won't work on [y/n]."Okay." [y/n] sniffed and crawled out of the bench."Now. Tell me what's the matter?"Akaashi asked.[y/n]'s lip trembled as she looked down, teary. "I can't spike through their blocks. I keep getting blocked."He mentally groaned. It was the same as Bokuto (the older one). Whenever he keeps getting blocked, he'll become dejected and uncooperative."Maybe I've gotten weak because I haven't been playing for a week." she whimpered.Akaashi sighed. "No one would get weak just because of that.""I'm sorry," the setter, Kawaguchi suddenly said. "It's my fault that you keep getting blocked. It's my job as a setter to clear the wall but I...""No way! You're a really good, setter, Kawaguchi-chan!" [y/n] looked up to her, the cause of her failing mood, totally forgotten. "I think you're a lot better than my previous setter back at the middle school! Your set ups are easy to hit and you always bring the ball on a good position!"Kawaguchi stared at [y/n] wide-eyed. "But... We got blocked..."Akaashi reached at [y/n] and helped her stand up. "Listen you two. Both of you are just beginners and it wasn't that long yet ever since you started to work with each other. So things like getting blocked are bound to happen. Do you really think [y/n]-san's brother, Bokuto-san and I managed to perfect our teamwork on our first try?" Akaashi looked over the two girls. "What I'm saying is being block didn't mean you're bad at it or you're weak. It only means, you still have a lot to learn. So just keep training, you two."One of the third year middle blocker, Asai Shinju stepped beside their captain. "Akaashi has a captain label on him. You seriously need to learn from him." Asai whispered and chuckled.Hirano pouted. "You're saying I'm not like a captain?"Asai grinned. "Yeah.""So mean...""Keiji-tann!!!" [y/n] hugged him. Akaashi sighed, already used at it. "You're so cool!!!"Kawaguchi stared at [y/n] who were now back in a good mood and then up to Akaashi who easily changed it. "Someday, I want to be like Akaashi-senpai!"After the club activities..."Bye [y/n]-chan! Chiemi-san and I will be going ahead!" Eguchi said. Kawaguchi just smiled."Ok!" [y/n] smiled and saluted to them.The two girls waved as they walked away."[y/n]-san? Shall we go?" Akaashi said from behind [y/n].[y/n] turned to him and tilted her head in confusion. "Where?"Akaashi turned to look away as if avoiding her gaze. "Bokuto-san... Your brother sent me a message. He told me to always walk you home."Hearing that, [y/n]'s golden eyes brightened. "Really?! Yay!" she smiled brightly and run towards Akaashi. She grabbed on his arm and cling on it.Akaashi sighed. Bokuto didn't really told him to walk her home. He just asked him to watch over her because she was clumsy when not on the court. But Akaashi was worried about letting her go home alone. He was sure that if a strange man asked her to come with him in exchange of food or sweets, she would surely go with him. "Looks like I have no choice but to be a caretaker again..." TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Sunday. No class. No practice. Pure relaxation. That was what makes Sunday, Akaashi's favorite day.Lying down on the couch. Akaashi closed his eyes as he cleared his mind. A day with nothing to think about. It was pure bliss.That was until his peaceful moments were interrupted by his phone ringing. His eyes twitched as he heard that particular ring tone. It was the ring tone he specifically set for [y/n].He was very tempted to ignore the call but he knew she'll be whining about it tomorrow if he really did ignore her.Sighing, Akaashi accepted the call. "Yes, [y/n]-san?""Keiji-tan! Help me!" she cried over the phone.Akaashi sat up. She sounds like she was in trouble. "[y/n]? What's wrong? What happened?""I'm going to die! She's coming for me!!!" she was panicking."Calm down! Who is she?! What is going on?!" Akaashi was also beginning to panic. He heard about some serial murderer who just entered someone's home at late night news. He knew that [y/n] was alone. Bokuto was living on the university dorms while their parents were out of the country. Akaashi couldn't really understand how they could leave someone like [y/n] alone. Her mindset was almost the same as of a child. Do they really think she was capable of taking care of herself? He do know that they hired someone to come over to clean the house and cook for [y/n] but that person leaves after all her work was done."Come! Please! Help me! She'll come here! I'll die!!!" she screamed.Akaashi stood up and run out of his house. "I'm coming! Go out of the house if you can!""I'm scared! I can't move from where I am right now!" she sobbed."Alright. Find a weapon or anything," Akaashi instructed "And calm down. I'm coming. I'll call you later. I have to call the police first," Akaashi said and ended the call, not even waiting for [y/n] to reply. He dialed the emergency hotline. "Hello? I need help."[y/n]'s body shook as she sat at the corner of the bathroom, frozen. One of her middle school classmate sent her a video tape with a note saying 'Help me! Watch this please!'.Curiously wondering what the tape was all about, she watched it only to see a very disturbing video she has ever seen.There were different scenes on the video. The first scene started with a man looking down from the top of a well. It was followed by a creepy woman combing her hair in front of the mirror and a lot more creepier girl walking closer to her. Then, some newspaper clippings with a kanji of 'eruption' floating on top of the clippings. Then comes some people crawling. The shot became more disturbing as the scene changed into man with a towel covering his face pointing at something. Then it changed into a scary eye with a kanji of 'sada' reflected on it. And then, there's a well. Just a well.[y/n] hastily turned the TV off. She knew that video. She was sure she heard something about it back on her middle school. A video that will kill you in one week.She's scared. She tried contacting her parents, aunt and her brother but no one answered. She knew her sisters won't pick her call up so she didn't bother. In the end, she decided to call the one who will most likely rescue her, Akaashi."Keiji-tan... Hurry..."Akaashi finally reached the Bokuto household. He has been there before once (although he didn't went in. He just handed the note to Bokuto's mother at the door and left) when Bokuto got sick and he was tasked to bring some notes to him.The cops were still not there. With no other choice, Akaashi pulled the cutter he brought and checked whether the door was open. Not an ideal weapon but in his panic, it was all he managed to grab.He felt his heart quickened as he realized the door wasn't locked. [y/n] said 'she she'll come here'. Does this mean 'she' was already there?Careful not to make any sound, Akaashi pushed the door open and entered. It was quiet. The whole place seems fine. No mess or any signs of struggle. He looked around. His first priority was to locate [y/n] and get her out of that place.Slowly, he went to the kitchen. The place was empty and everything seems in place. Akaashi turned and checked the other part of the house. He was beginning to worry more as he couldn't find any sign of [y/n]. Just then, he heard a sound coming from the bathroom. Holding the cutter tightly, he creeped towards the bathroom. He pressed his ears on the door and heard soft sobbing."[y/n]-san!" Akaashi threw the door open as he confirmed that it was [y/n]."Keiji-tan." she sobbed."Are you alright?! What happened?!" Akaashi asked as he kneeled in front of her."I'll show you..." [y/n] said and took Akaashi's arm. She then lead him out of the bath room to the living room."This is..." Akaashi stared blankly at the video tape she handed him. [y/n] told him not to watch it because 'he will die'. She was so desperate and were begging him not to watch it, so even though he wanted to see what it was, he decided not to and to just ask her what was in there. But as she explained, he remembered the movie Bokuto brought to his house one Sunday and watched it with all the Fukurodani members. "...the ring."He turned his eyes to [y/n] not sure whether to be angry or what. She do looked scared and she didn't look like she was joking or anything. She was also shaking badly.Just then, a knock sounded on the door. [y/n] clung to his arm. "Is it her?" she whispered.Akaashi sighed. He knew who it was. He was in a serious trouble. He head to the door with [y/n] following him.As expected, they got in trouble. The police man was on his phone, talking to [y/n]'s parents who finally answered their phone.On the couch was him and [y/n] who was now sleeping, still clinging on him.After a short while, the policeman ended the call and turned to him. He looked down to [y/n] with pitying look making Akaashi wonder what's wrong."I talked to her mother. The girl actually has DPD."Akaashi looked up to him wide-eyed. He read something about DPD before. Dependent Personality Disorder. He knew [y/n] was strange but he wasn't expecting she actually has something like that."She has a bad case of immaturity. It was a subtype under DPD." the police sighed. "I'll let this incident go and I'll contact this 'old middle school friend's' parents who sent her this.""Thank you. I'm sorry for the trouble. I didn't know it was like this and I panicked since she sounded so scared when she call me," Akaashi apologized.The police man smile. "Nah, its okay. It was actually quite funny how she fell on this prank but it wasn't funny seeing how this simple prank terrified her," he shook his head. "Anyway, her mother said she contacted her sister. The aunt of this girl will be here any moment now. Is it okay for you to stay here until she arrives? I could stay but I seriously needed to return to the station. We lack people these days.""Its fine. I'll stay here." Akaashi, unable to stand thanks to [y/n] clinging to him, just bowed his head. "Thank you again.""Okay. Goodbye," the police said and left.Akaashi sighed as he heard the front door close. He turned to the sleeping [y/n]. He kinda feel bad for all the times he thought of her as an annoyance.He reached up and gently stroke her head. He has a feeling she has found him as someone to depend on. From what Bokuto (the older one) said, their parents cares a lot more on their business than any other things while their sisters never paid her any attention. He doubt, [y/n] would depend on people like those. Even if she did, she might only end up lonely if they decide to put their business on top priority than her.Bokuto wasn't exactly someone you can depend on. Actually, it also seems that Bokuto Koutarou has the same disorder, but a mild one. After all, he was still capable enough to take care of himself. [y/n] however... "Sorry." Akaashi whispered. "I'll take care of you. So you don't have to be scared anymore..." TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The following days, [y/n] seemed paranoid over the 'woman' who we're going to come and kill her. Akaashi tried to assure her that it was just a prank but she still believed that it was real.The prankster was already punished and all but the damage has already been done. Akaashi knew he needed to do something before [y/n] loses her mind. And so, two weeks after the video tape incident, he invited her to come with him to a..."Amusement park?" she cocked her head. "The fun place?"Akaashi nodded. "Can you join me there? I don't want to go alone." Akaashi lied. She looked like she wanted to say no but after hearing that 'he didn't want to go alone', she seems to hesitate to refuse. "Its been a while since I've been there. Will you come with me?""Uhm... She won't follow us there, will she?" she nervously said."No. I told you, she wasn't real. And even if she was, she won't go to a place where there were a lot of people, right? Besides, I'll be there with you. Don't you trust me?" Akaashi raised an eyebrow, using her trust on him as a weapon."I trust you, Keiji-tan," she said and nodded. "I'll go with you."Akaashi smiled. "Thanks.""Woah! Its beautiful here!" [y/n] looked around excitedly."Haven't you've been here before?" Akaashi asked."My brother brought me here three years ago." she turned to him with a wide smile.He raised an eyebrow. "And your parents?"[y/n] shook her head. "I've never been to anywhere with them. Nii-chan was the one who always brings me to a lot of place ever since were little. Once, he brought me to aquarium and a few times on the zoo and amusement parks! He also accompanied me to the movie theater whenever there was a movie that I wanted to watch."Akaashi looked down to her. So she was actually dependent on her brother before? With Bokuto's child-like behavior, he thought that he was not capable of taking care of [y/n]. But he was wrong. If that was the case, then [y/n] was probably forced to endure her separation from her brother when he have gone to uni."Aren't you sad that your brother is away?" Akaashi asked but the moment he let the question go, he found himself surprised. Asking questions like that or making a conversation was something he doesn't normally do. [y/n] looked down with a sad smile. "I'm sad of course but I can't stay with brother forever. He needed to go to study and he has a life to live," she then looked up to Akaashi, smiling widely this time. "Don't worry, Keiji-tan. Once you graduate too, I'll be able to let you go just like how I let my brother go. So for now, please let me be selfish and endure me for a bit, okay?"Akaashi looked down at her surprise. This was the first time he heard her talk like that. She sounded normal as if she wasn't suffering from a disorder. Actually, she sounded like she knows she has a slight defect yet unable to fight against it.He wanted to ask her if she actually knew about her DPD but he couldn't bring himself to. So instead of asking, he just wrapped his arm on her shoulder and pulled her closer to him."Don't worry. Its fine. I'll take care of you on Bokuto-san's place.""Ugh! I think I dropped my heart somewhere over here..." [y/n] muttered after they got off the roller coaster ride."No one drops their heart from riding a roller coaster, [y/n]-san," Akaashi shook his head at her."Eh?! Is that you, Keiji-kun?" a girl's voice sounded.Both Akaashi and [y/n] turned to the source of the voice. It was a tall girl with a dark short bob cut hair and brown eyes."Makino-san." Akaashi nodded as he recognized the girl.Makino Rieko, a classmate of Akaashi back on his middle school days. On their last year of middle school, the girl confessed to Akaashi. But Akaashi rejected the confession apologizing to her. To Akaashi, his academics and volleyball were the most important. Anything other than those, like girls, were something he doesn't have any interest with. He gets along with Makino but he didn't really like her like how she likes him.Makino was now studying at Nezumihoki Academy and a middle blocker at Nezumihoki Academy Girls Volleyball Team."Wah! I knew it was you! Keiji-kun." Makino's eyes brightened. "Its been a while!"Akaashi let a polite smile. "Yes."As the two exchanged pleasantries, [y/n] frowned as she looked back and forth at the two. Was she being ignored? The girl was tall, yes. But [y/n] knows she was not that short! Actually, she was the third tallest on Fukurodani Girls Team! She was even taller than her other senpais. But why in the hell she was getting ignored? She was sure this Makino girl could see her 'just fine'.Tired of it, [y/n] pulled on Akaashi's arm, forcing the boy to turn his attention to her."[y/n]-san?""We're going to the next ride, right?" she pouted a bit. Yup, pout. Her brother told her that pouting would work on Akaashi so she was sure it was going to be effective."Oh! You're with your sister?" Makino said looking at her as if she just noticed Akaashi wasn't alone.[y/n] felt angry veins popping in her head at this. Does she looks like anything like Akaashi to be mistaken as his sister?!"Ah no. This is Bokuto [y/n]. I'm sure you've heard of him but this is Bokuto-san's younger sister." Akaashi explained.Makino nodded. "Oh yeah! Of course! He's one of the best player I've ever seen," she smiled and turned her eyes to Akaashi. "So he asked you to watch over her?"That's it! [y/n] stood up straight, pushing her chest up. Yup. She was sure she has larger 'front' than her. It was not crazily large but she has bigger 'that' than the Makino girl. They get on the way when she runs and jump to spike but she was quite proud she already have 'that size' even though she was only a first year. Her female classmates were kinda envious of it, actually. "For your information, Keiji-tan brought me out for a date. And I'm more than capable enough to take care of myself without anyone watching over me, thank you very much."Akaashi and Makino stared at her wide-eyed. Akaashi were not expecting such an outburst from her while Makino thought she wasn't capable of saying anything back considering that she kinda looked childish even at first glance."Makino! Come on! We have to go! Everyone's already waiting for us!" a girl called Makino on a distance."I'm coming!" Makino waved at her friend and turned to Akaashi. "I've got to go now. I'm here with my friends. I'll see you at the next tournament, Keiji-kun." she smiled sweetly at him, making [y/n] growl, then turned to [y/n]. "Nice to meet you, Bokuto-chan." she said with a little edge on her tone and turned to join her friend."What the- Why you?!" [y/n] jumped to chase after her and probably scratch her eyes but Akaashi caught her on the back of her jacket and pulled her back."Why are you so angry?" Akaashi sighed. He knew Makino were showing an utter dislike to [y/n] but she didn't say anything that would deserve of being attacked by [y/n]. Actually, he was surprised [y/n] sensed that Makino was giving her 'I don't like you' signals."Let me go, Keiji-tan! I'll gorge her eyes out!" [y/n] struggled."Stop that. Don't you want to go to the next ride? I'll buy you ice cream after that." Akaashi said."Hmph. Fine." [y/n] crossed her arms pouting as she stopped struggling."Good." Akaashi smiled a little and let her jacket go.[y/n] run back to his side and clung on his right arm again. "What does she mean she'll see you at the tournament?""She's a middle blocker at Nezumihoki Academy. They're competitors for nationals," Akaashi replied."I'll crush them once we faced them," [y/n] grumbled.Akaashi let a sigh once again. Normal [y/n] was already troublesome enough. But angry [y/n] was a lot more troublesome than the normal one.He looked down at her as he led her to the drop tower ride. Well... At least she already forgotten the video tape incident. He have to thank Makino later for angering [y/n]. TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "I'm sorry. But [y/n]-chan has a DPD." she heard the doctor said. But at that time, she wasn't sure what it meant. "Like Koutarou..." her mother said sadly. [y/n] looked up to her mother. Why does she looked sad? If her brother has also 'DPD', whatever it was, it was a good thing right? After all, her brother was a cool guy. "Koutarou-kun has a milder one. [y/n]-chan however..." the doctor turned to her with a a strange look. Why was he looking at her like that? Was there anything wrong with her? Her father sighed. "It can't be helped. I heard it was hereditary. My grandmother and my brother has the same case." "How bad is it?" her mother asked the doctor. "Slow development, incapable of being independent and many more to mention. You'll need to monitor her well. It will gonna be dangerous leaving her unsupervised." That was the first time she heard the word "DPD' or Dependent Personality Disorder'. "I heard the girl has DPD." she heard a parent of her classmate one time. "What was that anyway?" "Im not sure but I think slow maturity or something? It seems that her brother has it too." another one whispered although it was loud enough for her to hear. Her parents already explained to her what was DPD. As she heard what it was, she finally understand why some of her classmates were calling her a 'big baby'. Everyone seems to be against her. She has parents but they're always busy. She have two older sisters but they rarely pay her any attention. They always act like she wasn't there. Her only ally was her brother, Bokuto Koutarou. "Don't listen to others!" Koutarou said one time. "And don't just agree to everything people tells you! Be more selfish! No matter what, be selfish and take whatever you wanted! Fight for it!" "But... I don't know if I can..." she whispered. "People let you do what you want because you're the ace of the volleyball team. You always bring our school to victory every sports meet so everyone likes you. Me on the other hand..." [y/n] looked down. "If that's the case-" Koutarou opened his bag and pulled a volleyball out of it. "-I'll teach you how to play then!" And so, she trained hard. With the help of her one and only ally, her brother, she became stronger and stronger until she become confident enough to be selfish like him too. She became more lively as she become one of their elementary school's strongest female wing spiker and ace. Those people and classmates who used to mock her became a lot more friendly to her, praising her for her accomplishments and so on. It doesn't matter if she was slow when it comes to lessons, her school were more than ready to turn a blind eye on her grades as long as she make their school popular as a volleyball champion school. 'Be more selfish'. That was what her brother told her. And she did. It didn't matter if they don't want it. They can't say no to her anymore. If they do, she'll just throw a tantrum or cry. And if she cries, others would give the person who refused her with a 'you're making our champion ace cry' look and will be forced to agree with her. That continued until middle school. At middle school, she maintained her position as the ace. Now gone, the nonassertive and docile girl. The [y/n] on middle school were bright, loud and cheerful. She did made a lot of 'real' friends there who didn't really care about her DPD even after knowing about it. But of course, there were still some people who seems to mock her about it. Still, they didn't dare to voice it out loud and faked being friendly with her because... No one messes with ace. Her brother graduated from middle school later on but she was fine, she has her friends to watch over her. It was when her brother were already second year when he mentioned about his kouhai named, Akaashi Keiji. "He's a good setter, you know. And he's really smart! He also understands me well." Koutarou said one night. "Really?! That's good then! You said you don't get along with your previous setter." she said, remembering those times her brother complained about that particular senpai to her. "Yeah. Im glad he already graduate." her brother said, pouting. [y/n] smiled brightly. She wanted to meet this Akaashi Keiji that his brother were talking about. He seems like an awesome guy. And now, she was on highschool. Like on her middle school she was still free to do whatever she wanted and her senpais and teammates didn't seems to care.She also met Akaashi. Her brother was right. Akaashi was really an awesome guy.Before graduating middle school, she actually promised herself that she'll try to lessen her selfishness and try to be more mature even just a tiny bit. But after she met Akaashi, she couldn't help but to be more selfish. She know she has become very dependent on him, monopolizing him and all but she couldn't help herself.It was actually his fault for giving in to each of her every demands and catering her selfishness. It was his fault for being there when she needed someone and for pulling her up when she was down. It was all his fault for being too kind. He was so kind, she was taking advantage of that kindness. She feels so bad for what she was doing but don't have any plans of stopping.It all started with a curiosity about the guy her brother was so proud about. But later on, it comes to the point when the curosity turned to something close to possessiveness. His attention, his time, everything. She wanted it all.She knew that one day, he'll leave just like her brother and she has to let him go. She knew. But for now... She'll try to be more than selfish when it comes to him. Just until it was time for him to go... TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Interhigh, the first of the two major volleyball tournament that each and every volleyball teams were training for.It was finally time! But..."Where in the world is Bokuto?!" Coach Ando screamed as everyone panicked as they waited in front of the school with the bus, all ready to go."She wasn't answering." Kawaguchi said as she tried to contact the ace once again."Were going to be late for the opening ceremony." Asai said shaking her head."Uhmm... How about we go already and tell [y/n] to just head straight to the location? There will be two more match before us, right? That will give her some time." the captain, Hirano suggested.Coach Ando sighed. "You're right." he turned to look at the whole team. "Were going first and wait for Bokuto there!" Then, he pointed to Kawaguchi. Keep contacting her.""Yessir!"Coach Ando shook his head. "She's really a pain in the ass."Akaashi stared at the Fukurodani Girls Team curiously as they hurriedly lined beside the Fukurodani Boys Team. [y/n] was missing."Uhm. Excuse me? Where is [y/n]?" he asked the first year setter, Kawaguchi."Err... She probably overslept. We can't seem to contact her." the girl replied.Akaashi mentally face palmed. He wasn't expecting something like that to happen. It never happened to [y/n]'s older brother before so it never occurred to him that it would happen to the younger one.Sighing, he pulled his phone. He knew it was rude making a call in the middle of the opening ceremony but he has no other choice. He browsed over his phone book and call [y/n]. He heard her phone rang. "Answer it, [y/n]-san..."[y/n] groaned as she opened her eyes. "Did I dreamt of something?" she whispered as she blankly stared at the ceiling. She was sure she dreamt of something but totally forgotten what it was about.Just then, she heard her phone rang. "Hmm?" She picked it up and saw Akaashi's name. "Keiji-tan? I wonder what he wants." She received the call. "Keiji-tan?""Where are you?" Akaashi's voice sounded."Uhm... My room. I just woke up." she replied."You do know that today is the Interhigh tournament, right?" Akaashi asked."....." she stood there blankly until it finally hits her. "WHAT?! I FORGOT!!!" she panicked as she run out of her room."Your teammates are already here so just take a train and go straight here." Akaashi said.[y/n] stopped running. "But... I've never been there." she said as she whimpered. "I want to play!" she cried."Alright! Stop crying! Just get on the right train and get off the right station. I'll wait for you outside the station so hurry up!""Okay." she sniffed."Call me when you're at this place station.""Just on time!" [y/n] managed to shove herself inside the train before the door closes. Luckily, it wasn't full like usual. She was sure she'll get scolded by Coach Ando later. Just thinking about it was making her feel scared."Bokuto-chan?"[y/n] turned beside her and felt annoyed seeing who it was. It was Makino Rieko. The girl from the amusement park.Wanting to at least be a little respectful considering that the other girl was a third year, she greeted her back although a little bit sourly. "Hello, Makino-san.""What a coincidence! Why are you here? Its interhigh today, right?" Makino smiled although [y/n] could sense how fake it was."I woke up late." she honestly replied. No sense on making herself look perfect for this girl. Makino chuckled. "You're so funny."[y/n] looked away. She wanted to ask Makino why she was there too when her team was also on the competition but she don't want the other girl to think she was interested in talking to her so she keep quiet."How was Keiji-kun?" Makino asked."He's good." [y/n] simply replied."He was going to graduate this school year, right? Do you know what college he was going to go?" Makino continued talking to her despite of her obviously lack of interest in having a conversation with her."Dunno." she gave another simple reply."Ah... Must be nice to go on a same university as him. I mean, I'm graduating this school year too. There is a big chance we'll end up going into the same university this time."[y/n] mentally growled. She wanted to hurt the woman. Really! But she stopped herself. She don't want to get kicked out of interhigh.The whole ride ended up with her listening to the older woman trying to rile her up. After a while, the door of the train opened as the train finally reached her station. Or that's what she thought."Where are you going?!" Makino reached over her jacket, pulling her back.[y/n] gave her a strange look. "This is the station Im getting off. Aren't this your station too?""Me? Yes. But you. No. Your station is the one after this. That is where the tournament will take place!" Makino said, not letting her go."Huh? What the heck?! All of the teams will be playing on same gym! Yours and my team will be sharing the same gym along with Keiji-tan's team and the others!" she stared at Makino weirdly."Who said my team are playing? Were joining Spring High but were skipping Interhigh. Our team were not ready yet for Interhigh, you know?" she smiled."Oh... I see." [y/n] stepped back. She might have got the station wrong. It can't be helped. It was her first time taking a train to that place."I have to go, Bokuto-chan. Bye~" Makino waved and turned her back to [y/n], totally missing the ugly smirk that formed on Makino's face. She also failed to notice, that Makino was wearing her volleyball uniform."Ugh! Where is she?!" Coach Ando questioned."Akaashi volunteered to pick her up outside the station. They'll be here in a moment." Hirano said.A girl with dark short bob cut hair passed them and joined the group beside the Fukurodani Girls Team."Makino! What took you so long?!" one of the girls asked the newcomer. "Just how long it takes to find and buy a new pair of volleyball shoes?!""Sorry. I just got rid of an annoying owl who gets on my way.""Huh?!"[y/n] run out of the station and look around in search of Akaashi. "Huh? Where is he? Am I on the right place?" she pulled her phone from her pocket but realized the battery was empty. "What?! Why now?!""Huh? [y/n]-chan?" a voice sounded behind her.[y/n] turned around and saw a familiar bed head who was currently on a motorcycle. "Kuroo-tan!" Kuroo Tetsurou was her brother's close friend. He have been on their house before, many times than she could count."Its been a while! Why are you here? And... Alone?" Kuroo stared at her in confusion. He knew about her condition. He knew she can't be left alone especially if going to a place that far."Interhigh Tournament." she said.Kuroo became more confused. "But the tournament was on the station before this. That was always the case." he said."What?!""You got the wrong station." Kuroo stated."That! That! That filthy rodent!!!" she angrily shouted."Woah! Calm down! What happened?"[y/n] explained what happened. From waking up late to totally forgetting the tournament to getting on the train and meeting a plague infected mouse and so on."Haha! She was probably tying to get rid of some possible competition!" Kuroo laughed."I'll peck her eyes off!!!""Calm down. Why don't you let big brother Kuroo drive you there? The next train will arrive in one hour. I'm sure you don't want to wait for one hour when I could bring you there in 30 minutes." Kuroo grinned.[y/n] turned her eyes to Kuroo's motorcycle. "With that?""Yup? Scared?" Kuroo grinned."I'm not!" [y/n] pouted."Get on.""She's not there!" Akaashi said as be returned back to the gym. It was almost time for his own match so he was forced to return to the gym without [y/n]."Just where the heck is she?!" Coach Ando said. Their match already began. It was still the first set. Without [y/n] they were having a hard time scoring."Coacccchhhhh!!!" Coach Ando and Akaashi turned to the voice. It was [y/n] and Kuroo was with him."Kuroo-san?""Hey! Akaashi." the ex Nekoma captain grinned."I'll scold you later! Go there and win this match!" Coach Ando said."Okay!" [y/n] turned to Akaashi and bowed. "Sorry Keiji-tan."Akaashi sighed. "Tell me what happened later. I'll go to my team now. Good luck." he ruffled her hair before running to his teammates."Thanks, Kuroo-tan." she thanked the bed head."Don't worry about it. Just win this match." Kuroo said.[y/n] looked over the court with a dangerous glint on her eyes. "We will. I will make sure of it."The Nezumihoki walked through the bleachers. They just finished their match and won two out of three sets. Their next match would be in the afternoon.As Makino followed her teammates..."Hurry!!! Stop her!!! Don't ever let her score this one!!!" One of the Hirai High School Girls Team member shouted.Makino stopped to watch but as a familiar girl jumped up bravely despite of three blockers looming in front of her, her eyes widened. Terrifying sound of spike sounded as the spiker blown the middle one among the three blockers and sent the ball to Makino's direction, going dangerously close to her face, too close to her cheek."Woah! Makino! That was close! Are you alright?!" one of her teammates checked over her.She frozen, unable to answer her teammate. She could still feel the wind on her cheek. Her wide eyes turned down to the first year spiker, who sent that terrifying ball up there.Bokuto [y/n] was looking up to her. Her golden eyes glinting dangerously as if an owl having her sights lock on a little mouse.It was a warning from, [y/n] to her. TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Woah! She seriously did that?!" Eguchi stared at [y/n] when she told them what happened with Makino."Talk about low blow." Asai muttered."I can't believe there were actually some people who would do something like that these days." Kawaguchi shook her head."Yeah. But what I'm more curious is..." Eguchi smirked. "You said you first met her at the amusement park with Akaashi-senpai. So? What are you doing there with Akaashi-senpai?"Asai giggled. "Do you even need to ask? Of course it was a date!" the third year teased, nudging [y/n]."Hm? Yeah. I think it is. He said he don't want to go there alone so I accompanied him. Since it was just the two of us, I guess of was a date?" [y/n] said, not even flustered from her teammates teasing."You're no fun." Asai frowned. "I was waiting for a blush but your straightforward answer kinda ruined it!""Chiemi-chan was a lot more fun to tease than [y/n]-chan." Eguchi grinned and elbowed Kawaguchi. "Right, Chiemi-chan?"Face reddening, Kawaguchi looked at Eguchi. "Please stop that!""Huh? What?" [y/n] curiously looked over the two."What's with the reaction? Don't tell me you didn't know that Kawaguchi has a crush with Mori Mikio." Asai chuckled."Senpai!" Kawaguchi frowned at the older girl."Mori-kun? You mean the boys team libero?" [y/n] cocked her head."Yeah! Yeah! I caught her staring at him once! She does looooookk in love~" Eguchi continued her teasing to Kawaguchi's frustration."Hey! You two! That's enough teasing! Coach Ando and Coach Yamiji said they'll treat is for lunch. So come on! We'll join the boys team." the captain said."Oh?! The boys team? Mr. Libero will be there then." Eguchi whispered and giggled along with Asai."Ugh! Please..." Kawaguchi groaned.Chuckling, [y/n] pat Kawaguchi on the back."Keeeiijiii-tannnnn!!!" [y/n] shouted as she run over to Akaashi who were waiting with his teammates and Kuroo in front of a restaurant. As she get to him, she cling on his arm like usual."Oho? I didn't know you two were this close." Kuroo who would be joining them, said with his signature grin."Hmm? Why? Is there anything wrong with this?" [y/n] looked up to Kuroo questioningly.Kuroo shook his head. "Nothing is wrong. But I bet Bokuto would cry if he found out someone already stole his beloved sister."Akaashi gave him a warning look. "Don't tell him unnecessary things."Don't worry about it." Kuroo chuckled. "Shall we go inside?"The teams ate their fill, reloading themselves for their next match. Both team won the first round. Although some mishaps happened on the girls side, they managed to survive it and gets a permission to move on the second round, their last match for that day."[y/n]-san... Please stop sneaking carrots to my plate. Eat them." Akaashi said as he looked down at the piled up sliced carrots on the side of his plate."I don't want them! They're not tasty!" [y/n] whined.Their teammates ignored them. Everyone were busy stuffing their faces full of food to pay them attention."Have you even tried eating one before?" Akaashi sighed picking up one of the carrots with his chopsticks."No. But nii-chan said it taste terrible." [y/n] said, pulling his plate away from Akaashi in fear that he might return those carrots to her plate."Open your mouth. Here." Akaashi moved his chopstick closer to her."No!" she refused."Just try one. Open up." he tried again, pushing the chopsticks more closer."Uhmpp!!!" [y/n] shook her head stubbornly, shutting her mouth tight. There was no way that carrot would go inside her mouth. She was sure it would taste terrible."[y/n]. Don't test my patience." Akaashi said but [y/n] still refused.Kuroo who were sitting beside [y/n] and were watching them in amusement reached to [y/n]'s arm and pinched her."Oww!!!"Taking it as an opportunity, Akaashi shoved the carrot to [y/n]'s open mouth and reached to cover her mouth, making sure she won't spit it out."Uhmp!""Eat it." Akaashi ordered, not taking his hand away.Teary eyed, [y/n] did what Akaashi said, swallowing the cursed carrots. After making sure it was gone, Akaashi grinned in satisfaction."See? You could actually eat it."[y/n] hurriedly reached over the glass of water and drank it, washing the taste of the carrot away."You two are mean." [y/n] sniffed and rubbed her tears.Kuroo laughed. "You need to eat vegetables if you want to get taller.""I'm fine with my height!" she argued."Here's some more carrots.""I don't want that!!!"After lunch, both team headed back to the gymnasium for their respective matches.The girls next match was with the Nohebi Girls Team while the boys were with Tamanaha Boys Team."Don't let your guard down. This team has solid receives. Try for a wipe as much as you can, Bokuto." the coach instructed."Okay." [y/n] saluted."Alright. Go, Fukurodani!"If [y/n] would be honest, she would say the previous match was a lot harder than the current one.Nohebi Girls Team do have solid receives as the coach has said. But they were weak in offence. There were teams who specialized defense like Nekoma but Nekoma were able to attack and block. Nohebi Girls Team however could only receive. They can't block properly."Three blockers!" Asai said as [y/n] jumped. She spiked the ball and make a point with a wipe.The whistle blows. The first set ended with Fukurodani winning that set."This seems easy." Eguchi stated as she took her water bottle."Don't let your guard down." the captain said."I won't.""The boys were on the lead too." Kawaguchi said, looking at the other court. "Oh! They won the first set!"[y/n] looked at the boys and smiled as she met Akaashi's eyes. Akaashi looked over the girls score and smiled a little seeing the result."I hope we manage a back to back win for Fukurodani at this tournament."The second set started. Fukurodani keep seeing through Nohebi's game increasing the difference on scores.[y/n] was on her top form, scoring point after point."[y/n]-san!" Kawaguchi set the ball up for [y/n]. Prepared to send the ball rocketing up again, she raised her arm to spike the ball. But..."Akaashi!""Akaashi-san!""Senpai!"Shouts of distress from the boys team broken her concentration. She ended up missing the ball."Bokuto! What the hell are you doing?!" the coach angrily shouts but [y/n] couldn't seems to hear him. Her eyes were on the other court, on Akaashi lying on the ground."Oh hell... Time out!" the coach called for a time out."Keiji-tan!!!" [y/n] were about to run to the other court but her teammates grabbed her."Were on the match!" Captain Hirano said, pulling her back.Teary eyed, [y/n] turned to her. "But Keiji-tan is...""He just sprained his ankle when he tried to save the ball! Its normal!" Hirano keep pulling her as she keep struggling."No!" [y/n] tried to pull away more."[y/n]! Were on a important match!" Hirano shouted."Keiji-tan is more important to me than anything else!" [y/n] shouted back."[y/n]-san." a voice called."Keiji-tan!" [y/n] pulled from her teammates and run to Akaashi who was being supported by his teammates. "Are you alright?""Yeah. But listen to me."[y/n] nodded."I'm fine so don't worry about me and win your own match." Akaashi said firmly."Keiji-tan...""Do it for me, okay?" Akaashi said and reached to wipe her tears.Seeing how serious Akaashi was, [y/n] nodded. "Okay.""This sucks. It hurts." Akaashi muttered as he sat on the clinic with ice on his ankle."It's swollen." Ishii said."Yeah. It hurts a lot.""You gets carried away at times." Kuroo chuckled.Just then, the door opens and came rushing in was Makino. "Keiji-kun! Are you alright?""Makino-san?" Akaashi looked at the newcomer surprised."Our match just finished so I came rushing here to see if you're okay.""Oh. I see. Thank you for worrying. But I'm fine." Akaashi said."Is there anything I could do for you? Do you want me to bandage it? Or anything?""That was unnecessary." Kuroo suddenly said. The three turned to him in surprise. "I'm sure that [y/n]-chan and her team were done with their match by now. And I'm sure [y/n]-chan would prefer to do the bandaging herself."Makino faltered a bit. "Err... But does she even know-""Even if she didn't know, she would still liked to do it. I'm sure she'll throw a tantrum if she found out you did it before her. And..." Kuroo grinned. "If she find you here, she'll make you pay for what you did this morning."Makino's eyes widened as she sweat nervously."Huh? What was that?" Akaashi asked clueless at what happened that morning."Why don't you ask Makino-chan?" Kuroo chuckled.Makino stepped back a bit as Akaashi turned to look at her with a questioning look."Oh... Ah... Its nothing... Uhm... I have to go back to my team now." Makino said and run out of the room in a hurry."What's going on?" Akaashi asked, turning to Kuroo."They just kinda fought this morning." Kuroo shrugged.Akaashi looked at Kuroo suspiciously. He knows he was hiding something. But he decide to let it go for now."Ow... It hurts.""Keiji-tan!!! Dont die!!!" The door was thrown open and this time, the one coming in was a teary eyed [y/n].Akaashi sighed. "I'm not going to die." he said and patted her head as she sits beside him. "Did your team win?""Yeah. Your team was on the lead now as well. When I run away, it was 23- 19."Akaashi smiled. "Good. Anyway. Don't do what you did in the middle of the match ever again. Leaving the court in the middle of the game is wrong.""But you're injured." [y/n] argued."Its normal to get injured in the middle of a game. It's not even bad as it looks.""But still-""Its an important match.""Keiji-tan is a lot more important." [y/n] sulked, looking away.Akaashi sighed. It looks like he needed to be more careful not to get injured from now on. "Troublesome." TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Wah! Keiji-tan?! What are you doing here?!" [y/n] stared at the setter in surprise. It was the second day of the Inter High Preliminaries and she was preparing her stuff when the door bell sounded. She was surprised seeing that it was Akaashi who rang it.He was already on his volleyball uniform and carrying his bag. He was ready to go so why was he there?"I'm picking you up. I don't want what happened yesterday to happen again." he narrowed his eyes as he looked down at her. "I'm relieved that you didn't forgot about today. I thought you were still sleeping."[y/n] pouted, offended that Akaashi would think about that. She wasn't that irresponsible. Well... A bit. But not 'that irresponsible'."So..? Are you ready?" he asked."Yeah. I'm ready to go. Just let me get my bag and we'll go." she smiled and run back inside to take her bag."I'm excited for today." [y/n] said when she returned. She put her shoes on and looked up to Akaashi. "I'm ready."Akaashi reached towards her bag and took it from her. " Let's go.""Oh! You two were together." Asai smirked."I picked her up." Akaashi said handing [y/n]'s bag back to her."Thank you, Keiji-tan." she smiled.Akaashi patted her head. "I'll join my team. You behave.""Stop treating me like a child." [y/n] fumed, glaring to the setter."Yeah. Yeah. Sorry." Akaashi grinned and moved to join his teammates waiting in front of their bus."You two really do get along." Asai commented.[y/n] smiled. "Akaashi-tan is really nice. He always watch over me. He's like Kou nii-chan."Asai raised an eyebrow. "Was it really just 'that'?""Huh?""Are you sure he was just a 'brother'? I think there was really something more in there." Asai said."Something more?" [y/n] cocked her head to the side, confused."Are you really that clueless?!" the third year stared at her in disbelief."I'm not sure what you are talking about, Asai-senpai." [y/n] said.Asai sighed and shook her head. "Nevermind.""We still have time before our match. You're free to go to wherever you want but be sure to return before it begins." the coach said."Shall we watch the boys match then?" Eguchi turned to [y/n] and Kawaguchi."Yeah! Let's go!" [y/n] excitedly nodded while Kawaguchi blushed."What school were they facing?" Eguchi asked as they moved to find a seat."Keiji-tan said it was against Nohebi." [y/n] replied and sat as she found a good spot where they could see the Fukurodani and Nohebi's court well."Oh! I think they'll going to be fine. Nohebi Men's team was stronger than their female team but they have never defeated Fukurodani before." Eguchi said."Really?" [y/n] looked over the court. She know Akaashi and his team were capable but she was getting some bad vibes from the Nohebi team. "Good luck, Keiji-tan..."It was an upset. Everyone were on shock at the match's result. The whole gym were quiet, everyone were unable to process the result of the match between Fukurodani and Nohebi. It was only natural. No one expected that Fukurodani would lose to Nohebi. No one.The whistle sounded. Just then when the result finally sink in. The gym was on uproar. Nohebi cheerer's cheered as the players celebrates.The Fukurodani's side were silent. The cheerers were obviously disappointed by the result."Well... Bokuto was gone. We all know that he was the team's power." [y/n] heard one of the old man at the back said.[y/n] made a sour face. That wasn't true! Her brother said Fukurodani were strong. [y/n] was sure that even without her brother, they could win. It was just Nohebi got lucky. She was sure!The Fukurodani boys walked out of the gym after thanking the cheerers. As they bowed, Akaashi's eyes met [y/n] who gave him a sad look."Keiji-tan!!!" Akaashi heard [y/n]'s voice as his team walked through the gym halls."[y/n]-san." Akaashi stopped and turned to his teammates. "Go ahead. I'll come after you later." he said.His teammates nodded and left, leaving Akaashi to deal with the younger Bokuto."Keiji-tan. Are you alright?" [y/n] asked in concern.Akaashi sighed but nodded. "I'm still lightheaded. The loss wasn't sinking yet. I guess."[y/n] looked up to him sadly. She don't like seeing Akaashi so down like that.Determined to make him feel better, [y/n] pulled him on a hug, surprising the setter."[y/n]-san?""Don't be sad! You did your best out there and they just got lucky on that last one! If the ball didn't get caught on the net, you guys could have win! It was just luck so make sure to pay them back on Spring High!" she said as she tightened her hug.Akaashi stood in surprise for a while before hugging her back."Thank you. [y/n]-san. Thank you." Akaashi whispered thankful of [y/n]'s kindness.He then pulled back and looked down at her with a small hint of a smile."We lost but I at least want to see your team win. Promise me you'll win this, the next one and the following matches." he said, holding her shoulder.[y/n] nodded, determinedly. "I promise. I'll win for Keiji-tan.Hidden in the shadows, Makino glared at the two figure a few distance away. Akaashi and the Bokuto girl. She hates that girl. What did Akaashi saw in her anyway? As far as she could see, the girl was so immature and troublesome. Why was Akaashi bothering with her? Was it because Bokuto Koutarou asked him to watch over her? No... She was sure Akaashi wasn't the type to do that just because someone told him to do so. Even if Bokuto did ask and Akaashi decided to do it, the attention he was giving her was too much.A long time ago, ago, she confessed but Akaashi told her he has no interest on relationships. She thought Akaashi feels it was still too early for him so she decided to wait. She knows that they would cross paths no matter what, even if they go to different schools because both of them were volleyball players. So she decided to wait. But now, this [y/n] girl suddenly came barging, getting on her way!If Fukutodani Girls Team wins their match against Obata High School (which she was sure would lose against Fukurodani easily) and if her team also wins, they'll end up facing each other at the first round of the main preliminaries.Her eyes narrowed. "I'll crush you and your team. I'll show Keiji-kun I'm the better one." TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "That's all for today's practice. I want you to rest well today for tomorrow's match." Coach Ando said, looking over the team members faces. "We'll be facing Nezumihoki tomorrow."[y/n] narrowed her eyes at the mention of Makino Rieko's team, Nezumihoki."As we all know, Nezumihoki were average when it comes to attack and defense. They were not good but not exactly bad. But don't underestimate them. Don't let your guard down just because you're stronger. Don't let what happened to the boys team happen to you." the coach tone was severe."Yes, sir!""That's all. Go home and rest." he turned but looked back to the girls. "And use an umbrella. Its pouring outside.""Yes, sir." The girls moved to gather their stuffs. "It really is pouring outside." Eguchi said and turned to [y/n] and Kawaguchi. "Did you two brought an umbrella?""Yeah. I always have one with me." Kawaguchi smiled."I think I did." [y/n] replied and slung her bag on her shoulder. Just then, she realized she left her other pair of shoes at the club room. "Gah! My other shoes!" she turned to her fellow first year as she run away. "You two just go ahead! I'll get my shoes from the club room!" she declared and run out of the pouring rain."[y/n]! The coach just told us to use an umbrella!" the captain shouted but the ace was already too far to hear her."Here it is." [y/n] said and stuffed her shoes to her bag. Just then, she noticed that she don't have her umbrella on her bag. "Eh?! Did I actually forgot to bring it?!" [y/n] checked her bag carefully but found no traces of the umbrella. She then shrugged. "Oh well. I'll just go run. I don't get sick easily anyway."Her phone suddenly rang. Curiously, she pulled it out and checked the message."It's raining. Make sure you have an umbrella with you. -Akaashi" It was Akaashi.She winced. Too late for that reminder. She already forgot to bring one. "Meh! It's not like Keiji-tan would know." she said and run out of the rain, disregarding her coach and Akaashi's reminder.Morning. It was the day of Fukurodani's match against Nezumihoki.[y/n] woke up early. But for some reason, her body was heavy and she feels hot."I'm not feeling well..." she muttered as she sat on her bed. "Did I get sick from the rain?"She was soaked to the bone when she arrived home yesterday. But she was feeling fine before going to bed."No. This is a very important day. The chance to kick that Makino's butt finally arrived. I can't let a small fever get on my way." she threw her blanket off and jumped out of the bed. However, a sudden dizziness assaulted her. She fell to the floor. "Oww!"She laid her head down on the ground, trying to soothe her head. But the sudden ringing of her phone jolted her up."I wonder who it is?" [y/n] groaned and forced herself up. She pulled herself to the bed and took her phone. It was a call from Akaashi."Keiji-tan!" she panicked as she saw his name on the screen. Should she ignore the call? No. Akaashi might end up coming over to check on her if she didn't pick up. And if he came over, he'll find out she wasn't feeling well and force her to stay at home. She need to answer his call. And she need to be careful or Akaashi would figure out she wasn't feeling well.She let out a small cough and answered the call. "Keiji-tan? What is it?" [y/n] asked hoping she doesn't sound sick or anything."[y/n]. Should I pick you up? I'm going to watch your match." he said.[y/n] gulped nervously. "Err... No. I'll be fine. You don't really need to pick me up. I'll be able to go to the meeting place on time this time.""Are you sure?" Akaashi asked, obviously not trusting her word."I swear I'll be fine! Please don't worry anymore." she said hopefully it was enough to convince him."Alright. Just make sure you have everything with you. I'll see you at the venue. Bye." the call ended.[y/n] sighed in relief. She was glad he didn't noticed that she wasn't feeling well.Now, the hard part was hiding it from Coach Ando and her teammates. "Will I be able to hide this?""[y/n]! I thought you're going to be late!" Eguchi laughed and playfully slapped her arm."Er... I woke up early." she gave the libero a weak smile making the other woman raise an eyebrow."What's wrong? You're kinda out of it." she observed looking at their ace face. "You looked flushed. Are you sick?"[y/n]'s eyes widened and covered Eguchi's mouth. She looked around to see if any of their teammates who were present heard it and sigh seeing that the others were too sleepy to pay attention.She let Eguchi go. "Don't tell anyone.""Don't tell anyone?!" "Shhh!""Are you crazy?! You're burning up! You cant play in this condition!" Eguchi shout-whispered."I can and I will. We'll be facing Nezumihoki this time and this is my chance to defeat that stupid Makino. So please..." [y/n] pleaded.Eguchi sighed. "Do you really think you'll be able to hide this from the coach and everyone? It's pretty obvious you're not feeling well.""I'll talk to the coach later. But for now, don't tell anyone."Akaashi sat near the Fukurodani cheerers. His eyes were locked on [y/n]. It narrowed as he noticed something strange. She looked flushed and she didn't seems as energetic as she normally was.Before every matches, she was so noisy you could hear her to the other end of the court. But right now, she was quiet and sitting silently."Is she sick?"[y/n] talked to the coach regarding her fever. As expected, she got scolded. He also refused to let her play. But [y/n] managed to convince him to let her on the match after a few begging. He would let her as long as she don't push herself too hard. He told her he won't hesitate to take her out of the game if it looked like it was too much for her.When they lined up, Makino was giving her a nasty grin but [y/n]'s head were too fuzzy to notice it. Her condition didn't seems to escape their opponents however.The game begins. And it was hell for [y/n]. Her head was spinning, her body was heavy and it was hot. Too hot.Their opponent keep targeting her, seeing she was in no condition to play. But it wasn't like [y/n] was pulling her weight. She was getting through the blocks and her spikes were still deadly despite of her fever. It was probably one of the reason why Coach Ando haven't taken her out of the game yet. But it was taking everything out if her just to stand. Whenever she were about to fall, all she would do was to remind herself that she promised Akaashi she would win and keep winning then would glance up to the seats to look at Akaashi's face. So far, it managed to give her strength to continue."Why don't you take yourself out of the game, already? You're in no condition to play." Makino whispered with her nasty mug as both of them rotated to the front after the Nezumihoki's time out ended."I wanted to see Keiji-tan happy so even if this kills me later, I'll play. He told me to win all the matches after all." she let a smirk of her own. Makino seethed at this. "Listen, Makino-chan. Sick or not, I'll defeat you as if it's the last thing to do." her eyes narrowed as if an owl locking on her prey.The match resumed. [y/n] has become more aggressive on her plays. Three blockers were not enough to stop her cross or wipes with her straights. She was unstoppable. It was as if she was programmed to crush Nezumihoki.With another wipe, the whistle sounded. The first set ended with Fukurodani winning with the score of 25-19.Eguchi patted [y/n]'s shoulder as she passed her. "Nice. You managed to get us a win despite of that fever."[y/n] didn't reply, making Eguchi stop. Curiously, she turned to look at their ace. Just then, she tilted and fell."[y/n]!!!" Eguchi caught her before she slammed to the ground."Eguchi! What happened?!" the captain asked as their teammates run to check on their ace."I don't know! She just fell!" Eguchi panicked."Let me see!" the coach approached them and touched [y/n]'s forehead. "She's burning up. Her fever worsened."On the other side of the net, the Nezumihoki watched curiously."They shouldn't have brought her on the court if she wasn't feeling well." the Nezumihoki captain commented. "Powerhouse team and their pride is scary, they'll put a sick girl on the court just to win.""You have to admit, she was still strong despite of the fever. I feel like my arms were going to fly whenever I receive her serves." the third year libero said, shaking her arms."I wonder if she's okay." the vice captain said this time.Makino let a silent smirk. "She finally break." she thought, trying to stop the smirk from showing. But all the glee she felt was wiped out as she saw a figure entered the court.It was Akaashi. He run to check on [y/n], looking worried. He gently touched her forehead and frowned probably feeling her temperature.Akaashi then said something to the Fukurodani coach and picked [y/n] up. With the substitute member following him, Akaashi walked out of the court with [y/n] on her arms probably to bring her to the clinic.Makino gritted her teeth. Why did it seems that [y/n] won this time again? TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Is she really alright?" Kawaguchi asked as she looked down worriedly at the sleeping [y/n]."Yes. She's fine. She just need to rest." Akaashi said and looked over to some of [y/n]'s teammates who followed him when he brought [y/n] home. "You should go home, I'm sure all of you are tired."Hirano shook her head. "We're fine. Please don't worry about us." she said and looked down. "I feel guilty actually. [y/n] did her best and took the first set for us despite of her fever, yet, we still lost."The other girls looked down. They did everything they could to win. But without their ace, they were unable to win. Taking [y/n] out of the match brought their morale down."Don't worry. [y/n] would understand." Akaashi said and looked down to [y/n]. "You guys were on a lot of pressure. Besides, you didn't gave them an easy win. It wasn't an embarrassing match so don't worry.""Next spring tournament. We'll win the next spring tournament." Hirano declared determinedly.The other girls nodded, fire lighting their eyes. They'll have their revenge at the next spring high tournament.[y/n] opened her eyes. "Ugh..." she groaned. Her head was spinning and she still feel hot."Oh! [y/n]. I'm glad you're finally awake." It was her aunt Miyu, her mother's younger sister."Auntie? What's going on? Why are you here?" [y/n] asked in confusion."Your brother contacted me. He said his friend, Akaashi-kun called him and told him you collapsed in the middle of the match. He asked me to take care of you because your parents won't be able to return home again tonight." her aunt explained with a shake of head. "Your parents... Really...""The match..." her eyes widened as she finally remembered where she was before she passed out. "What happened to the match?!""I don't know. When I get here, Akaashi-kun only told me what happened to you. He didn't mention anything about the match." Aunt Miyu replied.[y/n] sat up and groaned as she felt dizzy. "Ow...""Hey! Why don't you just lie down? You're still unwell." Aunt Miyu pushed her back to the bed gently. "Are you hungry? Wait. No. You need to eat. Then you'll be taking medicine.""No! Auntie! I need to know what happened to the match. Can you please pass me my phone?" [y/n] desperately said.Sighing, her aunt took [y/n]'s phone from the table and handed it to [y/n]. "Just one phone call. After that, you're eating and will be taking medicine later. Okay?"[y/n] nodded. "Okay.""Good. I'll prepare your food. Just call me if you need something." the woman said and left [y/n]'s room.As her aunt left, [y/n] browsed on her contacts and searched for Kawaguchi's number. "Found it." she whispered and gave the setter a call.She put her phone on her ear and listened to the ringing, waiting patiently for the other girl to accept the call."Uhmm... Hello, [y/n]-san?" a meek voice sounded from the other line."Chiemi-tan! Sorry to disturb you this late! But I need to know what happened to the match.""....." Silence.[y/n] raised an eyebrow as she received no reply. "Chiemi-tan?""[y/n]-san, I'm sorry!" Kawaguchi apologized. "We did everything! But we still lost.""Oh." was all [y/n] managed to say."You did your best despite of that fever, yet we failed you. I'm sorry!""No. I'm sorry." [y/n] said. "I should have listened to the coach and Keiji-tan. You guys were counting on me, yet, I've gotten myself sick. I'm sorry.""[y/n]-san... Please don't apologize. You didn't want it to happen. Getting sick isn't your fault." the setter said.[y/n] bit her lip, frustration of not being able to help her team was creeping on her. "Next Spring High. We'll win." [y/n] determinedly declared."Yes." Kawaguchi replied back. Next time, she'll make sure to do her best to support her team.The next day..."Oh! Akaashi-kun!" Aunt Miyu looked at the setter surprised finding him at the Bokuto residence door, early in the morning."Good morning, ma'am. I'm here to see [y/n]-san." Akaashi bowed."Oh! I see. She's at her room. She was already up. Just go there if you want." the woman smiled."I will. Thank you." he let a small smile and curiously looked at her. "Are you going somewhere?""Yeah. I know I should be staying here to take care of [y/n] but I really can't take a leave from my job. I was going to call the caretaker my sister hired to clean the house. I'm gonna ask her to stay with [y/n] until I return." she explained."Oh. I could stay here with her if you want." Akaashi offered."Eh? Is that really okay? I don't want to trouble you or anything. You already have done much for [y/n] last night when you stayed with her until I arrived." Aunt Miyu said hesitantly.Akaashi smiled. "It's no trouble. I don't have any club activity today anyway."The older woman smiled, thankful at the setter. "Thank you. You really are a big help, Akaashi-kun.""It's fine. I'll go and see [y/n]-san. Please excuse me." Akaashi bowed again and headed inside the house to check on [y/n].Aunt Miyu smiled as she watched Akaashi. "I hope their relationship blooms into something. [y/n]-chan need a guy like Akaashi-kun.""Keiji-tan!" [y/n] looked at the door surprised as it opened and Akaashi entered.Akaashi let a small smile. "How are you feeling?" he asked."I think I would be able to return to practice tomorrow." she smiled back.Akaashi took a a seat at the chair, looking straight to [y/n]. "Have you eaten? Did you already took a medicine?"[y/n] nodded with a smile. She was really happy that Akaashi visited her.Akaashi took a deep breath and looked seriously at her. "Did you know what happened to the match yesterday?"[y/n] looked down and nodded. "I called Chiemi-tan last night. She told me." [y/n] replied. "I'm sorry, Keiji-tan. I promised we will win but-""No." Akaashi interrupted her. "Don't apologize." he said and took her hand. "Just... Just promise me you'll never collapse like that ever again."[y/n] looked down on their joined hands. His hand was cold and gives relief to her feverish body."You scared me." Akaashi admitted.Akaashi just realized something important when he saw [y/n] collapsed yesterday. [y/n] was very important to her. Very. To others, [y/n] needed Akaashi to support her. She needed Akaashi to be there for her. But the thing no one realized was Akaashi also need [y/n] so that he could support someone. Akaashi didn't realized it either until yesterday. [y/n] was the one who made Akaashi feel needed. She was the one who makes Akaashi feel important.[y/n] grasped his hand tighter and smiled. Akaashi looked down to their hands surprised at her action and looked up to her face.[y/n] nodded. "I promise, Keiji-tan."Akaashi closed his eyes and smiled. A peaceful silence followed with their hands joined. TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- [y/n] was a pretty young girl. Childish as she may be, no one could deny that she was a cheerful and talented pretty girl.Akaashi always knew that sooner or later, she would attract countless guys and it would be his job to make sure these guys wouldn't do anything stupid.Making sure they stayed proper, that was his job. Not to chase them away. But why does he wanted to kick the guys surrounding her desk away when they're not doing anything improper and were just talking with her pleasantly?With his hand closed into a ball, he glared at the sight from where he was standing which was the door of [y/n]'s classroom.[y/n] laughed at what one of the guys said and accidentally glanced to the door where he was standing."Ah! Keiji-tan!" [y/n] stood up, picking her lunch box and the of boxes of chocolates the guys probably gave her . "I have to go now. Thanks for the gifts, guys."[y/n] run towards him and smiled brightly. Akaashi however were in a foul mood."Why did they give you chocolates? I don't think today is the white day." he shot grumpily and walked.[y/n] followed him. "They said it's a gift for getting well from the fever."Akaashi's frowned more at that. Getting well from fever his ass. He was sure they were just using it as an excuse. "Don't just accept gifts from men." he said.[y/n] pouted. "But I like chocolates. And they were nice enough to buy it for me. It's my favorite brand too." she whined."If you want it too much, I'll buy you some everyday. Just don't accept chocolates from the people you don't know well. Who knows what they put in there." Akaashi said, voice uncharacteristically louder than nornal.[y/n] already picking up on his mood, frowned. "Keiji-tan? Did something happened? You sounds angry."Akaashi's steps became a lot more faster and [y/n] struggled to follow him."I'm not angry." he said.[y/n]'s eyebrows knit. She was positively sure he was angry."Don't lie. You're angry." she said."I'm not." Akaashi still denied."You are! Tell me what happened!" [y/n] persisted.He sighed in annoyance. "I said, I'm not angry.""You're lying! You are angry! Tell me why?!""STOP BEING ANNOYING! I SAID I'M NOT!" Akaashi shouted.Everyone on the hall looked at them in surprise. Akaashi seems to realized his mistake but the damage has already been done.Wide eyed, [y/n] stepped back."[y/n]-san, I'm sor-"[y/n] run away before he could say anything. At loss of what to do, Akaashi just stood there and watched her disappear in distance.Asai raised an eyebrow as she saw [y/n] lying down under the bench when she entered the gym. Kawaguchi and Eguchi were trying to cheer her up but it doesn't seems to be working.It has been a while since she saw [y/n] crawl under there making her wonder what depressed her this time.Asai silently stepped beside their captain, Hirano. "Hey, what's wrong with [y/n] this time?" she whispered.Hirano glanced over [y/n] and turned to Asai. "[y/n] and Akaashi fought." she whispered back."Eh? That was kind of hard to believe." Asai said in surprise. "What exactly happened?""I'm not really sure. But from what I heard, they argued and Akaashi yelled at her."Asai looked over [y/n]. It was really hard to believe that Akaashi lost his temper. If there was someone she knows who has incredible patience over annoyances, it was Akaashi. She know [y/n] was handy but her older brother Bokuto was a lot more troublesome and Akaashi never lost his temper at him. So what have made Akaashi shout at [y/n]?"Have you asked Akaashi about this?" Asai asked.Hirano nodded. "He didn't really explain well." she sighed. "He said he tried to apologize but she runs whenever he tries to approach her."Asai shook her head. [y/n] was a serious pain in the ass, honestly."Hey, Akaashi. I heard you and [y/n]-chan are fighting." Ishii said as she sat beside the captain.Akaashi sighed as he was reminded of his problem. "We're not really fighting. I just lost my temper and accidentally yelled at her. It's my fault."Ishii looked at him questioningly. "What happened?"Akaashi hesitated. He wasn't sure how to explain it, really. What should he say? That he got angry that she accepted the chocolates from those guys? That she was being overly friendly with them? Or what?Seeing the expression on Akaashi's face, Ishii became more confused. "Akaashi?""I... I'm just warning her about those guys who seems to have hidden motives trying to get too close on her." he said. That was closer to what exactly happened but not quite. Still, that was all he could say."And?""And well... She wasn't listening, she keep insisting that I am angry instead and so I got pissed and before I knew it, I yelled at her." Akaashi sighed. Actually, he really might be angry and [y/n] sensed it from the tone of his voice. But he didn't want to admit it and blew everything up.Ishii stared at him blankly for a while but suddenly, she grinned. "Are you jealous?"Akaashi's eyebrow knit. "What?!""Aren't you just jealous that she was entertaining admirers now?" Ishii pointed out."I'm just trying to protect her from them." Akaashi argued.Ishii however was sure of what she believed it was. "No. It's jealousy, Akaashi. Think about it, all this time, her world revolves around you and then these guys came, threatening your position as [y/n]-chan's number one, making you lose your composure."Akaashi looked away, refusing to admit it. Ishii chuckled and patted him on the shoulder before leaving him on his thoughts.Now alone, Akaashi thought of everything that happened. From what he felt when he saw her surrounded by those guys to the look on her face when she run away. She looked so devastated at that time.Sighing in frustration, he grabbed his hair. "I may be jealous." TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Akaashi sighed. He was with his old teammates.Last night, Konoha asked him to join him and the previous regulars of the Fukurodani Volleyball Boys Team. He said Bokuto wanted to meet up with them 'for old times sake'. Akaashi didn't want to go. It would be hard to face the older Bokuto when he wasn't in good terms with the younger one's after all, even though he wasn't aware of their issues. However, Akaashi didn't want to deal with a whining Bokuto Kotaro on his phone so he decided to attend. whatever Bokuto has planned. He just hope Bokuto wont ask him about [y/n] once he arrived which was close to impossible considering how Bokuto was.Speaking of which, the one who had invited them wasn't there yet."Just where is that stupid owl? He was the one who wanted to meet up!" Konoha spat in annoyance."We're talking about Bokuto here. He might still be sleeping right now." Komi nonchalantly said. The comment just annoyed Konoha further."I'm gonna give him a call!" Konoha declared, leaving the group in order to find a good place where he could yell to Bokuto without bothering anyone.A few moments after Konoha left, Shirofuku and Suzumeda arrived together."Sorry were late." Shirofuku apologized as both girls took their seats."Its fine. Bokuto isn't here yet anyway." Komi said."He's the one who wanted to meet up with us!" Shirofuku rolled her eyes."Yeah. Konoha-san said the same thing." Akaashi commented.This turned Shirofuku's attention to him. The woman grinned. And Akaashi has a bad feeling about that grin. "How is it with [y/n]-chan? You two gets along really well, huh?" Shirofuku asked with a knowing grin.Akaashi was about to ask her how did she know but stopped as he remembered that Shirofuku and Ishii are neighbors.The other boys who were just sitting in boredom were now looking at him in interest."[y/n]? As in Bokuto's younger sister?" one asked."What?! Are you two dating or something?" another one said.Akaashi sighed in frustration. They were misunderstanding it. He better clear it before it gets out of control. Before anyone who wasn't supposed to hear it hears it.Akaashi opened his mouth to set them straight. But..."Akaashi's dating my sister?"Everyones eyes widened and turned to the newly arrived Bokuto."Bokuto-san..."Bokuto's eyes were wide as Konoha (who also knows [y/n]) stood behind him, equally surprised.Akaashi groaned. "Why me..?"[y/n] silently sat on her bed, hugging her legs. Her eyes were blurry of the tears she shed just a few moments ago.She still wasn't talking to Akaashi. Honestly, she missed him but she was too scared to face him. What if he shout at her again?Just then, a knock sounded. She quickly wiped her tears before the door opened."[y/n]?"[y/n] stared in surprised not expecting who entered."Mom? Dont you have a business meeting with the investors?" [y/n] asked.The older woman sat beside her and smiled. "Your dad's meeting them. I decided to come home when your aunt gave me a call. She said you refused to eat. What's wrong?"[y/n] looked down and shook her head. She wasn't used talking about her problems with her mother. "Its nothing. I just don't feel like eating." It wasn't a lie. She really don't just feel like eating."But why?" her mother worriedly asked.[y/n] mentally sigh. She knew her mother wont stop unless she gives her some answers. "I have a headache and I feel sick. I might just end up throwing up if I eat." she lied. Hopefully that was enough to make her leave her alone."What?! Should we bring you to the hospital?"[y/n] let the sigh she was holding off. "No, mom. I just need rest. To be alone." [y/n] knew her mother was just worried but all she wanted right now was to be alone. Besides, she was still feeling sore for all the times she wasn't there when she needed her the most."Are you sure?" her mother asked.[y/n] nodded. "I'll tell you if I needed a doctor but for now, just please leave me, mom."The older lady hesitantly nodded. "I'll be at the kitchen. Just ask me if you needed something."[y/n] nodded and lie down on the bed, her back on her mother.The old woman sadly left the room.She walked to the kitchen but stopped as the front door opened. Without even checking, she knew who it was."No Akaashi! You listen to me!"It was her loud eldest child, Kotaro.She made her way to the living room where Kotaro was.He was standing there, hand on his hip while the other was holding his phone on his ear. It seems that he was talking to the underclassmen he used to talk about.The woman watched as his son who haven't seems to noticed her yet talked in frustration."Be a man, Akaashi! You better take responsibility over my sister! You better marry her someday!""What?!" the woman stood as she stared at Bokuto who was now looking at her in surprise."M-mom?"The mother tried to process and connect everything. [y/n]'s sickness, loss of appetite, bad mood and what her son said. Finally, it clicked.She almost passed out at the realization. "My daughter is pregnant."Kotaro's eyes widened at what his mother said."AKAASHI!!!" TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The atmosphere were grave as five people sat around in silence.The situation has turned bad to worst when Bokuto misunderstood everything and jumped into wrong conclusion.It was already bad enough that Bokuto refused to believe that Akaashi and [y/n] were not going out and decided Akaashi must take responsibility of tainting his sister's innocent soul and must marry her when the time comes. And now, the Bokuto's mother believed that her daughter was pregnant which his son believed was Akaashi's fault.In the end, both of them decided to summon the 'father of the child' and to call the head of the family.[y/n]'s father sighed in frustration after Akaashi finally explained what exactly happened and cleared the misunderstanding.Beside him was the apologetic mother and sheepish Koutaro."So, my daughter isn't pregnant and you're not her boyfriend, Akaashi-san?" the father questioned.Akaashi nodded. "Yes, sir. It was all a misunderstanding."The Bokuto's father looked over his daughter in confirmation.[y/n] simply nodded, uncomfortable with sitting beside Akaashi whom she has been trying to avoid the past few days. She doesnt really care about what her parents, her brother and Akaashi were discussing. She wasn't sure why everyone was making a big deal of a simple misunderstanding. Her concern was about being forced to sit beside AkaashiTheir father took a deep breath and nodded in understanding. He then turned to Akaashi. "I apologize for all the trouble, Akaashi-san. My wife and my son tends to jump into wrong conclusions most of the time." he said, sending both his wife and son a glare.Akaashi shook his head. "Its fine. I'm just glad this is all over.""In apology, please join us for dinner." the older man offered.Akaashi looked over [y/n]. She always avoid him at school. He knew that that night was his only chance on reconciling with [y/n]. He'll take that chance."Thank you. Ill accept the invitation."The Bokuto's father seems to like Akaashi.The whole dinner, he was busy talking to Akaashi, asking him a bunch of stuffs with Koutaro and their mother joining in sometimes. [y/n] on the other hand was uncomfortable and just wanted to hide inside her room. She still wont talk to Akaashi or even meet his eyes.After dinner, she offered to clean up the table and sent everyone to the living room.Her parents agreed and with Kotarou dragging Akaashi with them, they left [y/n].[y/n] finally breath in relief. She moved to clean the table and after, she plan on locking herself inside the room.When she was down to one more glass, she reached up to it only to be beaten by another hand.She looked up in surprise and almost stepped back seein who it was."Keiji-tan..."Akaashi handed her the glass. "Can I talk to you?"[y/n] turned away and brought the glass to the sink. After, she made a move to leave the kitchen."[y/n]-san! Wait!"The sound of his raised voice made [y/n] cower. The girl's reaction made him feel guilty."Sorry." Akaashi apologized and walked closer to her and grabbed her arm gently. Despite of how careful he was, his touch still made her jump.She looked up to him in fear."No, no. Its okay. I wont hurt you. And I'm not angry."Remembering how he yelled at her, [y/n]'s eyes teared up. Seeing it, Akaashi quickly pulled her to a hug."Ke-Keiji-tan..." she sniffed."I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you or to yell at you. I just got angry that you has your guard down with those guys." he explained, tightening his hold on her.He sighed as he remembered what Ishii told him about him being jealous and scared that he wont be her number one anymore.He hesitated at first, embarrassed of having to admit it. But after fighting with himself, he decided to be honest."I'm jealous." he admitted. [y/n] was looking up to him now with a curious look. "I'm scared that one of them would steal my place and be the person you would run off to every time you needed someone."[y/n] cocked her head. "But no one could take your place. Its impossible to take Keiji-tan's place." she honestly said, shaking her head.Akaashi stared at her, surprised at how she could say it straight. He mentally mocked himself at how he cant be honest like her.After a while, he smiled and pulled her into his chest, hugging her tightly."You too... No one could take your place as my number one girl." Akaashi whispered.Hiding at the doorway was the older of the Bokuto siblings, watching his friend and sister."I knew it... You damn liar, Akaashi." he whispered. Although his words were harsh, he was wearing a warm smile of a doting brother. TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Hiya everyone!!!" [y/n] greeted as she dashed inside the Fukurudani Boys Team gymnasium. She was back to being bright and sunny now that her issue with Akaashi had been solved.The players turned to her and smiled seeing her. "Hey, [y/n]-chan! It's been a while since I last saw you!" Sakai said giving her a friendly smile. "Are you and Akaashi good now?"[y/n] nodded her head. "Yes! We already talked!"The boys team we're quite relieved that everything was back to normal. Sure, Akaashi was still as serious as before with their training even though he was having a problem with [y/n]. Yet it still troubled them when they found out that the duo we're fighting. After all, they find normalcy whenever [y/n] visits the gym. It was like, the older Bokuto was back with them."Uhmm..." she looked around. "Where's Keiji-tan by the way?""He's at the faculty room. The coach had summoned him," Ishii replied."Oh. I see. Ah right!" she looked up to Ishii with bright excited eyes. "Did the coach already told you that the boys and girls team we're going to have a joint training next week?!"Ishii and Sakai exchanged glances. Joint training? But... The Fukurudani Group training was coming."No. The coach haven't mentioned anything yet," Ishii said."The coach just informed me," a familiar voice sounded from the gym's entrance.[y/n] smiled widely, turning to the owner of the voice. "Keiji-tan!" Like usual, she run up to him, clinging on his arm as she gotten near him. Akaashi who already used at it only gave her head a pat before looking at his teammates."Like what [y/n]-san said, the boys and the girls team we're going to have a joint training that will last for three days," he told them."But Akaashi, how about the Fukurudani Group Training?" Ishii asked."The group training with Nekoma and the other two schools would take place after this one the coaches had planned."The boys paled as it finally dawned on them. "You mean... Two consecutive training camps?!" the boys exclaimed.Akaashi nodded with a grave look. "Hopefully we'll survive two hellish training camps."Ishii shook her head. "The coaches are brutal.""It's the sea! Keiji-tan! Look! The ocean!" [y/n] excitedly look out of the window, kneeling on her seat."[y/n]-san, please sit properly. The bus is still moving," Akaashi told her with a sigh."I can't remember the last time I've been on a beach!" [y/n] giggled, ignoring Akaashi's plead for get to properly sit. "This is going to be awesome!"The bus stopped. After the girls and boys walked out of the bus, the coaches told them what to expect at that camp. As expected, the schedule and the the training we're going to be brutal."The training will start tomorrow. We know that all of you are tired from the long trip so today, everyone are free to just enjoy the sea," the girls coach declared, earning a cheer from the players."Now, go to our lodging and bring your stuffs to your room. After, go and play to your hearts content because tomorrow, its going to be a whole tiring day."Akaashi don't really care about the sea. Unlike his teammates who we're so excited at the prospect of being on a beach, Akaashi don't really care about it.As everyone excitedly play around, Akaashi, remained under the umbrella and silently watched his teammates.[y/n] who was just as excited as the others tried to coax him to join her at the waters. She left him alone when her playing teammates caught her attention later on.Now alone, he quietly observed. Satisfied with just watching. He carefully kept an eye on [y/n], worried that she might end up drowning herself. She seems like she knows how to swim but then, who knows?Sakai then joined him and sat beside him, probably tired from playing. The ace's eyes turned from Akaashi to [y/n] then back. The man then grinned."I knew, [y/n]-chan has a nice body but she do look sexy on that two piece," Sakai said with a smirk.Akaashi sent him a glare. Sakai laughed. "Don't look at me like that. I won't steal her. I'm just stating a fact. Even if she's cute and sexy, she's just like a younger sister to us so don't give me that look."Akaashi turned his head away from the ace. "I don't know what you're talking about."Sakai let out a snort. "Its pretty obvious you like her, you know? And I'm sure [y/n]-chan likes you back.""[y/n]-san probably thinks of me as a surrogate brother."Sakai rolled his eyes. "Come on, why are you denying it? No matter how you look at it, its obvious that you're more than a brother to [y/n]-chan. Although..." he chuckled. "She was probably not aware that the feeling is called love or attraction."Akaashi said nothing at that. Sakai might be right. He probably like [y/n] which he never thought was possible before. [y/n] might like him as he like her as well. But he didn't want to force himself to [y/n]. As Sakai said, [y/n] was probably not aware of what she really felt for him.That's why he decided to just continue being like a older brother to her. TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "I'm tired!" Eguchi complained as she slumped down on the sandy ground of the beach. As promised by the coaches, their training was brutal.Their morning started with a jog on the sandy shores as waves crashed down on their way, making it hard to run. After that, they were told to go to the waters (on the shallow part) and ordered to try jumping which is hard obviously. With the additional waves coming to them, the hardship were doubled. And then next, they were instructed to play a beach volleyball. They were given a few breaks for rest and for lunch but most of their time we're spent playing beach volleyball.With all the things they have done that day, it was bound to drain the team. Everyone was silent, wanting to save their remaining energy. Even the normally lively [y/n] was silent."Do some stretching and then, return to our lodging," the coaches said before leaving them.Even as the coaches disappeared, no one moved to go any stretching. They we're all tired to move a muscle."Anyone willing to get us some energy drink? Water wouldnt be enough," Hirano said.The managers we're sent to prepare the dinner so it was up to the players to fill their water bottles or in this case, buy some energy drink.When no one volunteered, Akaashi sighed and stood up. "I saw a convenience store nearby. I'll go buy them," he said."I'll go with you, Keiji-tan!" [y/n] followed up."It's alright, [y/n]-san. Just stay here with everyone and rest.""I'll go with you!" she insisted with a pout."Fine," Akaashi conceded."Yay!" As if her energy just returned, [y/n] excitedly run to Akaashi."We'll be back," Akaashi said.The others simply nodded or waved their hand, too tired to say anything.With that, Akaashi and [y/n] left their team.All the way to the store, [y/n] skipped on his side while humming. It was as if the tiring training didn't happen. For the life of Akaashi, he couldn't tell where [y/n]'s energy we're coming from."[y/n]-san, aren't you tired?" he asked the young woman.[y/n] glanced at Akaashi and nodded. "I am.""Then stop skipping and save your energy. We don't want you collapsing from overexerting yourself."[y/n] pouted but listened to the senior. She stopped skipping and obediently walked slowly.The convenience store came and sight. The two volleyball players entered the store and collected what needed."Is these enough?" [y/n] asked as they brought the energy drinks to the counter."Yes. We don't need much," Akaashi replied.Behind the counter, a young man onyheir age stood. [y/n]'s eyes widened as she recognized the man."Naoto-tan!"Akaashi raised an eyebrow as the young man's eyes lit up in recognition. "[y/n]-chan!""Woah! Naoto-tan!" So you went here after you graduated middle school and left Tokyo!" [y/n] jumped up and down in excitement.The guy Naoto, laughed. "Yeah. Since my grandparents we're getting older, me and my sister thought that it'll be better if we stay here with them and help them with their business. How about you? It's a long way from Tokyo.""We're her for a training camp!" she smiled brightly before gasping in realization. "Ah right! Naoto-tan, this is Keiji-tan! And Keiji-tan, this is Naoto-tan!""Keiji Akaashi. I'm from the Fukurudani men's volleyball team," Akaashi properly introduced himself.Naoto smiled amicably. "Ishida Naoto. [y/n]-chan and I we're neighbors. She was also a school mate back at middle school.""When no one was home, I used to stay with Naoto-tan and his sister back then," [y/n] added. For some reason, that didn't sit well with Akaashi. The guy was nice and he seems friendly but Akaashi couldn't help but dislike him. That unsettling feeling he felt back when he saw [y/n] being friendly with her male classmates had returned. Jealousy. Ishii a called that jealousy. The unsettling feeling of worry and fear of being displaced had returned.Akaashi eyed the Ishida guy. [y/n] treats him like how she treats him. Was that mean they we're on the same level on [y/n]'s eyes? TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Akaashi was annoyed. Very annoyed. Ever since meeting Ishida Naoto last night, all [y/n] talk about was the guy. Whenever they have free time, she'll talk about him and about her memories with him. That only confirmed to him that Ishida Naoto was someone [y/n] fully trusts.And what's worst... Now that Ishida knows that [y/n] was there..."[y/n]! I've brought a watermelon for everyone!" That! The guy visits with gifts whenever time would allow him. Thanks to that, everyone was already friendly with him. Even the coaches welcomes his presence.He know he was being childish but Akaashi couldn't help but to be irritated.That night, after dinner, Akaashi left their ryokan and went to the beach to have a walk. He didn't told anyone he was leaving. The first one to notice that he was missing was [y/n]."Ishii-chan, do you know where Keiji-tan is?" [y/n] asked the boys team manager."Akaashi? No, sorry.""I saw him left," Sakai who was passing by suddenly said."Oh," [y/n] nodded. "I'll go and find him!" she declared before dashing away."Huh?! Wait [y/n]-chan!" Ishii tried to call her back but the younger girl was already gone. "Should we follow her?" the manager asked worriedly."It's fine," Sakai replied with a yawn. "It's dark outside. I'm sure she'll came running back in fear once she saw how dark it was.[y/n] opened the door and peeked out. She gulped upon seeing that it was dark. "It's scary," she muttered as she nervously look around.Just then, she saw a familiar man in a distance. Her eyes brightened seeing who it was."Naoto-tan!" [y/n] called out. She jumped up and down and waved her hands up in an attempt to get the man's attention.Ishida did noticed her and hurried towards her. "[y/n]-chan? You're going out?" he asked."I want to go look for Keiji-tan. But..." she look around nervously. "I'm scared. Its dark."Ishida chuckled a bit. "Well, I'm done with my delivery so if you want, I'll help you find Akaashi-san.""Really?!" [y/n] looked up to him hopefully, making him laugh."Yeah. I'm done with all I need to do so I'm free.""Yay! Thanks!" [y/n] happily thanked him and grabbed on his arm. "Let's go!"Ishida smiled and nodded. "Okay.""It's getting late. I better return to the ryokan," Akaashi muttered as he turned back.He left the ryokan to clear his mind from thos jealous thoughts about [y/n] and Ishida. Walking in silence did clear his mind. He decided that he was just thinking too much. [y/n] do trust Ishida but that doesn't mean that she was in love with him or something. And even if Ishida was very friendly with [y/n], that didn't mean he was in love to her as well. He only probably see [y/n] like a younger sister.Just then, he heard a familiar giggles. Akaashi looked towards the source of the sound. His eyes widened at what he saw.Clinging on Ishida's arm was [y/n], giggling happily."Well, Koutaro-kun is always like that," Ishida said after [y/n] told him about her older brother's stupid ideas."Yeah. He got scolded after that," [y/n] said."[y/n]!"A familiar voice sounded. [y/n]'s eyes brightened upon recognizing the voice."Keiji-ta- Ahh!" however, her words got cut off when she was grabbed away. One moment, she was holding on Ishida's arm, the next she was staring at the familiar back of Akaashi."Akaashi-san?" Ishida muttered, looking confused.Akaashi was staring at him and he looked angry. Ishida wasn't sure why. It was not like he did something that would make the other man look at him like that."K-Keiji-tan? What's wrong?" Even [y/n] could sense he was angry as she pulled his arm nervously."Why are you outside?" Akaashi asked [y/n] although his eyes we're still on Ishida."Uhmm... I was looking for you. Sakai-chan said you left our Ryokan," [y/n] explained in a small voice. She was a bit scared of Akaashi right now. For some reason, he looked angry."Then why are you together with him?" Akaashi asked again."Akaashi-san, I was passing by and saw her. She wanted to look for you so I offered to help her," Ishida explained for [y/n]. He could see that the girl's eyes was getting teary. She seems scared of Akaashi. He still wasn't sure why the guy was angry but he decided not to question him about his behavior.Akaashi stared at Ishida for a little bit before turning his back, pulling [y/n] with him. "We're going," he said.[y/n] nodded, not saying a word in fear that it will make the setter more angry. She looked back at Ishida for a bit, mouthing a 'goodbye' before letting Akaashi guide her.The two if them walk back silently. [y/n] wanted to ask Akaashi why he looked so angry but then, she remembered that Akaashi seems to hate being questioned why he was 'angry' when he was angry.After a short while, she decided to just apologize even though she wasn't sure if she was the reason why he was acting like that."Sorry," her small voice sounded.Akaashi stopped and glanced down at her. [y/n] froze as she saw Akaashi stopped. Was he going to yell at her?"Why are you apologizing?" Akaashi asked, face was serious than normal."Uhmm... I thought that maybe you're angry at me," she replied."Have you done something that would make me angry?" Akaashi asked this time.[y/n]'s head turned down as she shook her head. "I don't know. But if you're angry at me. Then I'm sorry so don't be mad at me anymore. Please."Akaashi suddenly felt guilty as he saw her shaking. He scared her again. After that time when she started to avoid her, he promised he would never let his emotions get ahead of himself ever again but what was he doing this time?He was always calm and collected. Before he met [y/n], he was the very epitome of calmness. But meeting [y/n] had changed him.It seems that no matter how much he try to contain his feelings, that feeling of wanting to be the only one she needed was always surfacing.Akaashi have decided. Hiding it was only causing damage. Might as well let them go.He reached to [y/n]'s chin and lifted her head up to make her face him. [y/n]'s eyes was blurry with unshed tears. The fear was also visible there. That won't do.Akaashi leaned down and pressed a soft and gentle peck on her lips. It was just a small touch but Akaashi could feel how soft her lips was.He looked down at her when he pulled away. [y/n]'s eyes we're wide. Her eyes no longer held fear. There we're only confusion.Akaashi closed his eyes and turned his back. His hand grabbed on [y/n]'s arm and pulled her with him as he walk.From what Akaashi could see, [y/n] was confused. Surprised and confused.He mentally sighed. "What have I done?" TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- [y/n] was avoiding him. Akaashi was now regretting what he have done last night. He just ruined [y/n]'s trust to him because he couldn't control himself.After returning to the ryokan last night, she hastily pulled her hand away and run away from him.That morning, the girl refused to even look at him. Everyone did noticed. Ishii asked him about it but he said nothing.He wanted to talk to [y/n] but it seems that he had to wait until evening since his team and [y/n]'s team would be doing a separate training that day.Akaashi let out a sigh. He'll try to pretend that the kiss was nothing later once he talked to her. It would hurt but if he wanted to maintain his friendship with [y/n] then he had to do it."[y/n]!""Oww!" the ball hit [y/n] on the head, making the ace yelp in pain and surprise."[y/n]! I told you to focus! What the hell is going on with you?!" the girls coach shouted angrily. This is the fifth time she got hit by a ball that day. "We're in the middle of a receiving practice! Get your head out of the cloud!"The girls and boys we're going to do separate training that day. The girls we're currently practicing outside while the boys we're using the gym they have rented."Sorry," [y/n] apologized dejectedly. She was being yelled at again. She know she need to focus. But no matter how she try, her mind keeps drifting from last night.Akaashi kissed her. She was sure it was a kiss. She watch TV drama's so of course she know what kiss was. The male character always kisses the female character they we're in love with on those drama's. Does that mean that Akaashi loves her? Not love as a friend but love as in... Well... Love. Like those on the dramas.Seeing that the young ace was spacing out again, the coach let out a sigh. "30 minutes break.""[y/n]-chan, are you alright?" Kawaguchi, the girls setter asked as she and their libero, Eguchi sat beside [y/n] who was dejectedly sitting on the sand, hugging her knees, away from everyone.[y/n] turned to look at the two before looking down. She shook her head.The setter and libero exchanged glances then turned their gaze to their normally energetic ace. "Is there any problem? You can tell us," Kawaguchi gently said. "Is it because of Akaashi-san? You've been avoiding him since this morning."[y/n] bit her lip as she hesitated at first but after a short while, she decided to consult her teammates and friends."Keiji-tan kissed me.""What?!" Eguchi and Kawaguchi stared at her in disbelief. "Wait wait! On the cheeks?!" Eguchi asked.[y/n] shook her head and tap her lips in answer. That made Eguchi squeal while Kawaguchi's cheeks reddened."That's great! But..." Eguchi frowned. "Why do you look unhappy? You didn't like it?""I..." [y/n] looked down, thinking about that kiss. She was so surprised, she didn't got a chance to think whether she liked it or not. Thinking about it now... "I... I don't think I hate it."Eguchi squealed more while Kawaguchi's gave reddened more."I-if you don't hate it then why do you look sad?" Kawaguchi asked, trying to focus more on the problem than to the cause of that problem."I don't know why he did that," [y/n] admitted.Eguchi's elated face had fallen as she stared at [y/n] blankly. "You mean your problem is that you don't know why Akaashi-san kissed you?"[y/n] nodded. That made Eguchi face palmed. "[y/n]! The only reason why he did that is because he's in love with you!""Huh?" [y/n] stared at Eguchi in surprise. She did thought that that was a reason but she was not sure. So she was right all this time? "Keiji-tan loves me?"Eguchi sighed and nodded. "How about you? Do you love Akaashi-san?""I..." she hesitated. "How could you say you love someone?"The two girls stared blankly at her before letting out a pair of sighs."Do you want to always be with him?" Eguchi asked. [y/n] nodded."Do you always think about him?" Kawaguchi asked this time. [y/n] nodded."Do you hate it when another girl was trying to get his attention?" Eguchi asked again. [y/n] nodded. She'll beat the hell ou of that Makino the next time she sees her."Do you feel strange when he is with you?" Kawaguchi asked in turn. [y/n] nodded."Then you love him too," the duo chorused."I... I do?" [y/n] muttered. Her friends nodded. Slowly, [y/n]'s lips curled into a smile. "I love Keiji-tan!"That night, [y/n] was so excited to talk to Akaashi alone. It was already late when the boys returned to the ryokan.[y/n] asked Eguchi to call Akaashi and to tell him to meet him outside.[y/n] excitedly waited for the man. She'll tell him she like him just like what Eguchi taught her that afternoon.Footsteps sounded. [y/n] turned and smiled seeing who it was."Keiji-tan!"Akaashi nodded as she ran to him. "I have something important to tell you, Keiji-tan!" she said, smiling widely."Me too," Akaashi said.[y/n] tilted her head. "You too?"Akaashi nodded and smiled a little. "Forget what happened last night, okay? That kiss means nothing.""W-what...?" TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Akaashi took a glance at [y/n]'s direction. She wasn't acting like herself. Since last night talk, she had been quiet, unlike her normal loud and energetic self. Sure she was focussed on the training. She was doing well at their practice matches yet, she was unusually quiet.When he told her to forget the kiss and that it meant nothing. She simply nodded and told him she wanted to return inside since she was getting cold. He let her go, thinking that they would finally returned to normal. However, it was the opposite.She wasn't avoiding him anymore, yet she won't start a conversation with him unlike before. Even at breakfast, she took a seat with Eguchi and Kawaguchi when she normally run up to his table to eat with him.He wanted to talk to [y/n] about this strange behavior of her but for some reason, Eguchi was glaring at him, giving a warning to back off. He wasnt sure what have he done wrong to the libero to make her mad at him. Last night, when he asked him that [y/n] wanted to talk to him, she was giggling and grinning like a folk but now, she looked like she wanted to kill him with a glare. Was it about [y/n]? Then again, he had no idea what wrong he have done to [y/n]. All he did was to try and fix their friendship. That's all!"Hey, Akaashi. Is something wrong between you and [y/n]-chan?" Ishii asked him as she passed him a water bottle.Akaashi shook his head, without turning to the manager. "Nothing's wrong."Ishii glanced to [y/n]'s direction then back to the captain. "Then why aren't you two talking?"Akaashi bit his tongue. He had no idea what's wrong so how was he supposed to answer Ishii?"Do you want me to talk to her?" the manager offered. She couldn't help but to fell worried. When [y/n] wasn't acting normal, everyone was on edge. It was like they all found normalcy on [y/n]'s ridiculous yet adorable antics.Akaashi shook his head as he looked up to the manager. He gave her a small smile. "It's fine. Thanks though," he stood up and handed the water bottle back to the manager. "We're about to start with the serving practice. Later."Ishii watched the captain worriedly. She wasn't sure what was really going on between him and the young ace but Akaashi was a friend and [y/n] was like a younger sister to her. If she could she wanted to help.She let out a sigh.If only Akaashi would allow her to help them.That night, dinner was spent in awkward silence and secret glances towards [y/n] and Akaashi's direction.Akaashi could tell that everyone was beginning to worry about the two of them.[y/n] had taken a seat beside Eguchi and Kawaguchi as expected. Akaashi on the other hand was with Sakai."What's wrong? Did you two fought?" Sakai asked in a small voice as she glanced to [y/n]'s direction.Akaashi remained silent, refusing to give an answer. That earned him a sigh from the ace. "Fine. I won't force you to talk. But you two we're dampening everyone's mood so whatever's wrong with the two of you, hurry and fix it."After that awkward dinner, Akaashi took a shower to clear his mind. The warm water freshened him up. That made him feel a bit better.But the , as he walked out of the bathroom, he heard frantic voices.Curiously, he turned the corner and saw [y/n]'s teammates with panicked looks."Are you sure she's missing? Have you checked the bathrooms?" the girls captain, Hirano questioned Kawaguchi."Yes captain. Eguchi-chan is already looking for her outside," the setter replied, sounding distressed."I'll ask the others for help," Asai said and run away.Akaashi knew, something bad had happened. He approach he'd the two remaining ladies."What's going on?" Akaashi asked.Hirano and Kawaguchi turned to look at him."Akaashi! [y/n] is missing!" Hirano told him."What?!" the setter stared at her wide eyed."Me and Eguchi-san normally bath with [y/n]-chan so we went to find her but we can't find her anywhere," Kawaguchi explained."I'll go out and find her," Akaashi said and left before anyone could say anything.Akaashi ran out of the ryokan and into the chilly night.The sky was cloudy. He could hear the soft rumble of thunder in the distance."It's going to rain," he whispered, seeing the rolling clouds gathering up in the sky. "I better hurry and find her." He run as he looked around worriedly. [y/n] might be scared of lightning and thunder. He need to hurry and find her.A minute later, he felt a cold drop of water on his cheeks and a few seconds of that, a downpour. Thunder became louder and scary lines of light painted the sky.He was drenched but he didn't care. What was important was to find [y/n]. It pain him thinking how scared she was right at that moment.The thunder sounded once again and then it was followed by a small whimper.Akaashi's eyes widened and turn his head to the place where the fearful sound came from.He rounded the bush and under the big tree was [y/n]'s cowering figure. She was sitting on the muddy ground, hands covering her head and eyes shut tight. Tears slipped out of her closed eyes although it might just be rain water. She was soaking from the rain as well. The tree wasn't enough to cover her from the fat drops of rain and cold wind."[y/n]-san," Akaashi kneeled down in front of her and laid a hand on top of her hand that was covering her head.[y/n] looked up in surprise. K-Keiji-tan?" she whispered in disbelief. Akaashi frowned. Does it really strange to her that he came running to find her?"Let's go back. You're going to get sick," he'll ask her later why she suddenly left the ryokan but for now, what was important was to bring her to the safety of a roof.Akaashi reached to her arm to help her up but [y/n] turned her head away, refusing to move. A thunder sounded loudly. She jumped a bit, yet still refused to move."[y/n]-sa-""Don't be kind to me anymore!" she yelled before he could complete what he was about to say.Akaashi looked at her in confusion. "[y/n]-san... I don't understand." A thunder. "For now, let's go back to the ryokan, okay? Everyone is worried.""No!" [y/n] shook her head stubbornly. She was scared of the thunder but she don't want Akaashi s left. "If you don't love me then don't be kind to me anymore!"Akaashi stared at wide eyed. [y/n] continued with a sob."I'm trying to distance myself so that I could forget you. So... Don't be kind to me anymore. Or else I won't be able to do it," she sniffed as she covered her fave with her hands. The thunder was now forgotten as her feelings of pain overflowed. "You want me to forget that kiss but how could I when I love you?"Akaashi who was kneeling in front of her, let his self drop on the ground. Now, sitting on the muddy ground, nor caring about anything else but her confession.She loves him. It wasn't a one sided thing. She love him too. So he misread all of it? He was wrong all this time?He reached towards [y/n] and pulled her to a hug."No!" [y/n] screamed as she struggle against Akaashi."Shh... It's okay," Akaashi whispered as he tightened his hold against her."I said no! Let me go!" she continued to struggle.Akaashi refused to let go and held her tightly. After a few moments, she have gotten tired from struggling and slumped against the setter's chest, sobbing.Akaashi stroked her soaked head and planted kisses on her head. "I'm sorry, [y/n]. I lied. It's not true that the kiss has no meaning."[y/n] pulled away and looked up to him in confusion.Akaashi continued. "Since you started avoiding me after that night, I thought you hated it," he smiled gently. "I was scared that you'll stay away from me forever so I decided to lie. I told you to forget that and it meant nothing but the truth is I love you."[y/n]'s eyes widened. She stared at the setter for a few seconds before glaring. "You're only saying that. I don't believe you," she look away. "I don't want your pity.""[y/n]?"[y/n] turned to give Akaashi another glare but before she could give the man what he deserve, she felt his cold lips on her.Another kiss. However, it was different from the peck he gave her the other night. This one was long and passionate. She froze again, same as the other night. She felt Akaashi's arm wrap around her waist and felt him pull her to his lap.In need of breath, Akaashi pulled a little bit. His forehead pressed on her as hr look straight to her eyes."I love you. Be my girlfriend."At first, [y/n]'s mind was blank. But as it dawned to her what Akaashi was asking, her eyes teared up."You're not lying? It's not only pity?" she asked with soft sobs.Akaashi chuckled and pressed another kiss on her lips. "I won't kiss anyone out of pity.""Keiji-tan!" she wailed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.Akaashi smiled and rubbed her back. The rain had stopped. Slowly, the clouds was clearing up.Looking up, Akaashi saw the sky. It was still dark. The moon was still hiding. But... The rain is over. That was enough for him. TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Keiji-tannnn!" Akaashi felt something slam on his chest before he could react to the call. Looking down, he saw his adorable girlfriend, clinging to him, face buried on his chest. He frowned. She was sobbing."[y/n]? What's wrong?" he asked in concern as he wrapped his arms around her.Before [y/n] could reply, Akaashi heard his teammates laughing while the girls from the girls team screamed."Kyaaa!""Sakai! What the hell?!""Get that away from me!!!"Today was their last day at that beach. The coaches had kindly gave them that day to enjoy. Everyone was enjoying their free day although a certain idiot was enjoying it too much.Akaashi sighed seeing that Sakai got a hold of a sea cucumber and was scaring the girls with it.Sakai, the devil laughed more and locked his eyes on [y/n]. The ace's smile widened as he made his way towards [y/n] and Akaashi. However, he stopped on his track as his smile faltered seeing the death glare Akaashi was giving him. The man gulped and turned his attention away. He then decided to chase Hirano with the poor sea cucumber.Now that the pest was gone, Akaashi pulled away from [y/n]. "It's okay. He's gone," he smiled and gently wiped her cheek marred with tears.[y/n] warily look around for Sakai making Akaashi chuckle. "Don't worry. I'll make sure he won't force near you."[y/n] nodded and smiled. "Thank you." Akaashi patted her head in response."Ah! There you are, [y/n]-chan!" a familiar voice sounded making Akaashi frown. Turning around, he saw Ishida."Naoto-tan!" [y/n] smiled brightly at the newcomer.Akaashi silently glared from the sidelines as Ishida and [y/n] talked. He still feel threatened with the guy even though he practically have all the rights to [y/n] now."Since it's your last day here. Why don't we set some fireworks tonight," Ishida was saying."That sounds great! Right, Keiji-tan?!" [y/n] excitedly turned to the setter. Akaashi simply nodded in a bad mood."We have a lot of it. I'll bring it here later," Sakai said, oblivious of Akaashi's mood."Yay! Thank you Naoto-tan!"Naoto smiled and patted her head. That made Akaashi narrow his eyes. Before he could stop his self, Akaashi had pulled [y/n] away from Ishida, causing the two to look at him in question.Akaashi's eyes slightly widened as he realized what he had done."E-er... Sorry. But [y/n] and I need to return to the ryokan to pack our stuffs," he dumbly said."O-oh, okay," Ishida accepted his reasons. "I'll just see you two later."Akaashi nodded and took [y/n]'s hands. He then led her away."See you later, Naoto-tan!" [y/n] waved at the other guy as she followed Akaashi.Akaashi silently cursed his self. He seriously need to control his jealousy or else he'll end up hurting [y/n].The coached had prepared a nice dinner for their last night at the beach. The team set a long table where they sat and eat. Being a really helpful hand on their stay at the place, Ishida was also invited.Akaashi silently glared at the guy as he prepared the fireworks. Behind him, was a curious [y/n]."Hey, Akaashi. Why are you glaring at Ishida-san?" Sakai chuckled as he sat beside the setter."I'm not glaring," Akaashi shots."Yeah and I'm Ushiwaka," Sakai said, rolling his eyes."You're nowhere near his level," Akaashi mercilessly shot again."Hey! That wasn't nice!" Sakai pouted. "I know I'm nowhere near his level but you don't have to point that out!""You started it," Akaashi rolled his eyes this time."Anyway, I noticed something.""Don't notice it then.""I noticed that you and [y/n] had become really close since last night when you two returned drenched from the rain. What exactly happened?" Sakai questioned, ignoring what Akaashi said."Nothing happened," Akaashi simply replied. He figured it'll be troublesome if his teammates found out that he and [y/n] we're dating so he decided to hide it from them. He just hope, [y/n] wouldn't tell her teammates. As of now, it seems that she haven't said anything yet since the girls we're still acting normal."Yay! You're awesome, Naoto-tan!" Akaashi's eyes widened as he saw [y/n] hug Ishida."E-eh? Akaashi?" Sakai looked up to Akaashi in confusion as the setter stood up and marched towards Ishida and [y/n]'s direction."[y/n]!" Akaashi shouted and pulled [y/n] away from Ishida, same as what he did that morning. This time however, Akaashi was in front of Ishida, glaring in anger. "Stay away from her," he muttered in gritted teeth.The scene caught everyone's attention. Everyone quiets down as they focused to Akaashi and Ishida."K-Keiji-tan?" [y/n] tried to get the setter's attention but Akaashi refused to turn his focus from Ishida."Akaashi-san, I don't know why-""Stay away from my girlfriend," Akaashi interrupted Ishida. What he said made the other murmur among themselves. Akaashi didn't paid them attention though.Ishida raised an eyebrow before letting out a small chuckle. "Akaashi-san, you're mistaken. I'm no threat to you. To me, [y/n]-chan is like a younger sibling that I never had," he assured him, shaking his head. "Besides, I already have a girlfriend."Akaashi's eyes widened. So he made another mistake again?Sakai's laugh interrupted the awkward moment. "So that's why you're glaring at Ishida-san! Seriously, Akaashi?!""And I can't believe you didn't told us that you two are already dating!" Ishii added with a grin.Akaashi cursed as he realized he just revealed his secret.A small tug caught his attention. Looking down, he saw [y/n] looking up to him. "You don't need to worry about anything, Keiji-tan. I only love Keiji-tan." that statement made the others tease him. Even the coaches we're laughing on the sidelines.Akaashi sighed. Right... [y/n] was straightforward. She never felt embarrassment as well. Looks like he has no choice but to accept all the teasing and embarrassment alone. TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Akaashi sat on the couch as he let out a relaxed sigh. Today was a rest day. His team won't be having a practice today and for some reason, [y/n] weren't flodding him with messages and calls. Really, he loves the woman but she knew how to drain him.It was a really fine day and in addition, his parents we're out. He was alone. No noisy mother who loved to order him around or a talkative father who find enjoyment in telling him about his latest case which he had no interest, obviously.Times like this was truly a luxury for someone like Akaashi who was surrounded by people who we're either energetic or loud.Today was going young to be a pleasant and quiet day. Or so he thought."Akaashi!!! Open this door!" a loud knocking at the front door which was followed by the doorbell interrupted the solemn peace.Hearing the familiar voice, Akaashi's ideal vision of today came crashing to him. With a defeated look, Akaashi stood up from the couch and made his way to the front door.He opened the door and came face to face with none other than Bokuto Koutaro, his ex-captain, former senpai and the older brother of the woman he adored."Bokuto-san, what are you doing here?" the setter addressed the other man."Akaashi! Is it true?! You're dating my sister?!" Straight to the point, Bokuto asked him.Akaashi sighed. Did [y/n] told him? Or was someone on the team blabbed it to him? Oh well, it's not like he could keep it from the owl-man forever.Akaashi opened the door wider. "Please come in. Let's talk inside."Akaashi laid a plate of chocolate cake and a glass of oolong tea in front of Bokuto. "Don't you have lectures to attend, Bokuto-san?""I do but this is more important than lectures!"Akaashi sighed. "If you think this is more important then I'm worried about your future.""Forget that! So, is it true, Akaashi?!" Bokuto asked before digging on to the cake in front of him."Who told you?" Akaashi asked back as he took a seat in front of Bokuto."Sakai," Bokuto simply replied as he focused more on the sweet treat.Akaashi rubbed his temple. Of course, it's Sakai. He did have a hunch that it was Sakai. Seriously, someone needs to teach the guy to stay away from other people's business.Looking serious, Akaashi turned his eyes to Bokuto. Bokuto was someone Akaashi could never take seriously. But the guy was [y/n]'s older brother. He didn't want to but he know he needed to work hard to get his approval."Bokuto-san, I am dating [y/n], yes," he admitted.Bokuto stopped munching and stared at Akaashi. Akaashi continued."I promise you, I have no bad intention to her. I will protect her and make sure she is happy so please..." Akaashi bowed his head.Silence. Akaashi wondered what was the guy was now thinking as he glances up to Bokuto. The former Fukurudani ace was silently staring at him. Does that mean he was against it? Akaashi opened his mouth to call Bokuto, but he finally talked."Fine," Bokuto said, sounding serious. Akaashi stared in surprise. He wasn't expecting that Bokuto would easily accept. "But first, you must listen to me, Akaashi," Bokuto continued and pointed towards the setter. "You have some rules you need to follow if you're going to be my sister's boyfriend."Bokuto talking about rules? Akaashi suddenly felt worried.Against his better judgement, Akaashi nodded. "Fine. What are these 'rules'?""First," Bokuto started. "You must always give her whatever she wanted! Anything! Everything!"Well that wasn't bad. That was what he had been doing all these time, right?"Ah right! You can't 'sleep' with her though. If she asked for it, reject it!""Bokuto-san," Akaashi sighed. "[y/n] would never ask something like that. She probably have no idea what 'that' is anyway.""Just saying," the older man shrugged. "Second!" Bokuto continued. "No touching inappropriately!""Just what kind of man do you think I am?" Akaashi sent him a glare. That was kind of insulting. Does Bokuto think so lowly of him that he think it was necessary to warn him about that?!"Don't be angry! I'm just laying out the rules!" Bokuto defended.Akaashi shook his head tiredly. "Fine. Continue." He seriously want it to end already."Third, make sure she focus on her studies!"Akaashi stared at Bokuto strangely. Bokuto talking about focussing on studies? What's next? End of the world?"Hey! You're thinking of something insulting! Aren't you?!" Bokuto accused.Akaashi looked away. "Nope.""Liar!" Bokuto pointed before crossing his arms. "Seriously though, Akaashi. My sister is very high maintenance and I wouldn't trust just anyone with her. But I know you." Akaashi looked back at him. "I know I could trust you so..." Bokuto smiled "...take a good care of [y/n]."Akaashi stared at him for a while in surprise before letting a small smile. "I will.""Good. And final rule, Akaashi... No matter what. Don't ever make her cry."Akaashi looked down as he remembered seeing [y/n] cry. Thinking about it broke his heart. He don't want to see her cry ever again. "Yeah. That is something I would never ever do." Never again.He looked up to Bokuto. "I swear." TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The Fukurudani Group Training Camp. Fukurudani Academy Boys Volleyball team, Nekoma High School Boys Volleyball team, Shinzen High Boys Volleyball team and Ubugawa High School Volleyball team. These four teams had been doing these practice matches for years. Last year, however, another team had joined them, the team of Karasuno High School Boys Volleyball club. And now, the once no name team turned to a big named team would be joining them again and probably in the future as well."Woah! Karasuno is here!" the voice of the Nekoma ace, Yamamoto sounded.Turning his head to the gym's entrance, Akaashi saw the familiar faces of Karasuno team members, led by it's new captain, Ennoshita and a few new faces."Tora!" Tanaka and Nishinoya called in chorus. And as if they haven't seen each other for years, they crowd in happiness. Akaashi shook his head. For heaven's sake, they have seen each other a month ago!"Kenma!!! Lev!!! Inuoka!" And another loud voice sounded. Hinata Shouyo. A small guy yet a scary opponent.Honestly, he never expected that the guy would become someone that the players would be wary of. He was fun to play against with though. He and their setter Kageyama. Whenever Akaashi play against them, he feels like his skill as a setter was being tested."Akaashi-san," a calm voice called out to him. He turned and saw the familiar blond middle blocker of Karasuno, Tsukishima. A troublesome middle blocker, next to Kuroo.Akaashi nodded his head in response to the middle blocker. Of all the Karasuno member, he was closest to Tsukishima and Hinata. The two used to join him, Bokuto, Kuroo and Lev on their training back then so he have gotten to know them well."Akaashi-san!" Hinata came running to him. "Let's do some practice later!" the small middle blocker excitedly said.Akaashi nodded with a small smile. "Okay.""Yay!""Hey! I'm joining too! Hinata boke!" Kageyama shouted."Do you really need to call me boke?!" Hinata shotsAs the two fought, Tsukishima rolled his eyes. "If this is what I'm going to endure later, then I'm not joining.""Who said I'll let you escape, Tsukki!""You're joining us, Tsukki! Hey! Hey! Hey!" New familiar voices sounded.Turning to the gym's entrance Akaashi's eyes widened. Kuroo and Bokuto's presence was not what surprised him. He figured they woild be visiting. What surprised him, was the young girl standing in between the two."[y/n]?"[y/n]'s eyes met him and in an instant, she brightened. "Keiji-tan!" she squealed and came running to him.Akaashi caught her as she jumped to hug him. The scene had made everyone turn to look. He could even hear Yamamoto and Tanaka cried and muttered how jealous they we're."[y/n]... Stop. Everyone's looking," Akaashi whispered, looking embarrassed."Oh," [y/n] pulled away and looked around. "Ah! Right!" she stood straight and bowed. "My name is Bokuto [y/n]! Sorry for the sudden visit! Nice to meet you all!" she introduced herself.The others seemed to recover from that embarrassing scenw that they witnessed and replied with a pleasant 'nice to meet you too"."Bokuto? So you're Bokuto-san's sister?!" Lev was the first to came bouncing to her. Hinata and Inuoka who were also as friendly as the half Russian followed."Yeah! I'm his younger sister!" [y/n] replied. Bokuto stepped beside her and slung his arm on his sister's shoulder. "She's also a volleyball player. She's the Fukurodani girls team's ace," Bokuto proudly declared.The trio's eyes sparkled. "Cool!"Kuroo then stepped beside [y/n]. "She's also Akaashi's girlfriend," the stupid cat said with a grin."Ahh... I see," the trio nodded. But after a short while, it dawned on them what Kuroo said. "What?!"Akaashi sighed. And here he thought, he could have a peaceful training camp.The practice matches between the teams started. Bokuto and Kuroo remained on the sidelines to watch. And thankfully, [y/n] was behaving. She remained beside her brother and once in a while, she would talk to the managers.She easily get along with others, Akaashi noticed. He always knew she was very friendly so there's no surprise there.When the coaches gave them time to rest, [y/n] finally approached him."Keiji-tan, here," she handed him a water bottle."Thanks," he thanked her as he accepted it. "Aren't you supposed to be resting today? Your coach told all of you to rest at home, right?"[y/n] pouted. "I missed you so I asked nii-chan to bring me with him."Akaashi sighed. "I promised I'll give you a call at night, right?"[y/n] nodded. "Yeah but I can't wait for the night.""It's important to listen to the coach, [y/n].""Fine," [y/n] muttered with a small pout."Stay at home tomorrow, alright?" [y/n] nodded. Akaashi smiled and patted her head. "Good girl."Her answer made Akaashi relieved. But he should have known better that [y/n] often follows what ever idea that comes to her mind. Unknown to him, he'll receive a bad news the next day. TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "What?! Hospital?! Why?! What happened?! Is she okay?!" Akaashi yelled at Bokuto through his phone. He was in the middle of stretching when Ishii came to him with a phone. She told him that Bokuto was insisting that he needed to talk to Akaashi and it was an emergency.Akaashi thought it was nothing serious. After all, it was Bokuto who was talking. But then, Bokuto told him that [y/n] was in the hospital."Shes fine. Although it might take a while before she could join the training again," Bokuto said.Akaashi rubbed his temple. The girl would someday kill him with worry. "What in the world is she thinking?" he muttered."She tried to escape her room through the window last night. She tied some sheets and came climbing down. But the ties came undone and so, she fell," Bokuto explained."Escape through the window?!" Akaashi exclaimed. "Why in the world did she do that?!""I don't know. She refused to tell me," Bokuto replied. "Her coach and some of her teammates we're questioning her about it."Akaashi was actually questioning her sanity more than of the reason why she pulled that stunt."I'll ask the coach a permission to leave the school for a bit. I'll talk to her." He'll surely have a serious talk to her later."K-Keiji-tan?" [y/n] smiled nervously as Akaashi entered her hospital room.She could tell she was in trouble. Akaashi was frowning and she has a feeling she was going to get a serious scolding. Much serious than she got from her coach."Umm... Sorry?" she offered, hoping it will save her from scolding. It didn't."What the hell do you think you're doing? What possessed you to escape through the window? If you want to go out, you should have used the door," he began. "Before you left with your brother yesterday, I warned you not to do anything stupid, didn't I? Why did you do that?"[y/n] bit her lip as she look down on her lap. Akaashi wasn't yelling. The volume of his voice was the same as normal. But his tone was obviously different. He was mad at her."Are you just going to clam up there? " he asked, looking fed up with her.[y/n] closed her eyes tightly, stubbornly keeping her mouth shut.Akaashi crossed his arms. "[y/n], I'm asking you a question here. I'm serious. I'm seriously going to get pissed if you keep being stubborn."Opening her eyes, she gave him a fierce glare. "It's your fault Keiji-tan!"Akaashi was taken aback at that. "What?""You said you'll give me a call last night! I waited for it! But it was already late yet there was no call! I tried calling you but you didn't answer!" she closed her teary eyes. "I missed you so much so I decide to go back to the school to see you! But then, mom and dad won't let me leave. Since they we're at the living room, I have no choice but to escape through the window!" she opened her eyes, returning that teary glare to the setter. "I can't wait any longer so I hurriedly escape! So it's your fault!"Akaashi reached up to his face. That's right. She was that kind of person. She was one of those who would do something stupid because she was impatient."Sorry," Akaashi apologized as he look at her. He sat beside her on the bed and patted her head gently. "I was so tired last night. I planned to give you a call after I finish checking our match records but while doing it, I fell asleep. Sakai and the others even have to drag me to my bedding since I fell asleep on the floor." What happened to her was partially his fault, he decided. After all, he knew that [y/n] was someone different from normal. Because of that, he was the one who needed to adjust for her."Sorry, Keiji-tan. I didn't mean to blame you," she guiltily apologized. "I thought you forgotten about me," she sniffed.Akaashi chuckled, pulling her on a hug. "That's not gonna happen." [y/n] wrapped her arms around him in return. "Just promise me you'll never do anything dangerous like that ever again," he said, stroking her head.[y/n] pulled away and nodded. "Okay. Promise,"she smiled. "Kiss me, Keiji-tan."Akaashi was about to tell not to ask for something like that when Bokuto's voice coming from the door sounded. "No kissing!"Akaashi glared at the door. He had a feeling the guy had been eavesdropping from the start.[y/n] pouted. Seeing that, Akaashi sighed and put his pointed finger up in a 'shh' motion. Then, he leaned and give her a peck on her lips, surprising her.Akaashi then grinned mischievously. "Don't tell your brother."[y/n]'s large eyes then glittered in affection. "Okay." Akaashi smiled and pull her on a hug again. She was really a handy woman. He was sure he'll face hundreds of more trouble being with her. But he won't trade her for anything.He uses to hate the trouble that Bokuto caused. Who would have thought he won't mind the trouble his sister would bring to him now?"Maybe I really am a masochist," he thought as he bitterly smiled at his stupidity. Only he would openly accept troubles. TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Where do you think you're going?" [y/n] tensed up as she heard a stern voice behind her. With a dreaded expression, she slowly turned her head and smiled nervously."Err... Keiji-tan. Hi.""Don't 'hi' me. I'm asking you where you are going," Akaashi moved from where he was leaning and made his way towards the wobbling [y/n]. "Didn't I told you to stay in bed? What if you hurt your leg again?" He said with concern in his voice as he sweeped her up from her feet and began to carry her back to her room, princess style."I just want to go to see if there is some chocolate cake left," she pouted as she was carried back to her room.Akaashi carefully laid her back of the bed and gave her a piercing look. "You just had a slice a few minutes ago.""But it's not enough!" she whined.Akaashi sighed. He just returned from the Fukurudani Group Training Camp yesterday. The moment he entered his room, he received a message from Bokuto asking him if he could stay with [y/n] for three days since their parents would be out of the country while he would be returning to his dormitory. He asked about their aunt who often look after [y/n] but she was also away, visiting her mother in law with her husband. Akaashi agreed to watch over [y/n] after hearing that. He just can't leave [y/n] alone especially now that she was injured."I'll give you a slice of cake after lunchlunch, okay? So behave for me. Can you do that?"[y/n] bit her lip in hesitation. She seriously want a cake now. But Keiji-tan wanted her to behave for him and she would do everything for Keiji-tan.Although she badly wanted to eat a cake already, she nodded her head. "Fine," she pouted.Akaashi smiled and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "Good girl," he stepped away and walked to the door. "I'll prepare our lunch so stay here," he said and left.[y/n] leaned on her pillow and huffed. "Stupid Keiji-tan. You're lucky I love you more than a cake."Akaashi checked his shopping list to see if he missed something. He was in a hurry. [y/n] was alone and had no one to watch over her. When he left, she was sleeping so he left her a note telling her not to move from the bed and to wait for him. He don't trust her to stay still so he was on a hurry to return.After checking the list twice, he turned to finally head back to the Bokuto's home.But then..."Keiji-kun!" a voice called him. Akaasji turned and saw Makino."Makino-san," Akaashi nodded his head in greeting."What a coincidence. Are you shopping for your mom?" she asked as she noticed the paper bag that Akaashi was carrying."Ah, no. It's for mine and [y/n]'s dinner tonight," he said."[y/n]? You're with her?" she asked, looking at him with a look of confusion."Just for a few days. She was injured. Her parents and her brother we're away so I will be staying with her for a bit," he explained.Makino's eyes narrowed. "Keiji-kun. I know you're a very kind man. But don't you think you're doing too much for that girl? She'd not your responsibility," she said, looking at Akaashi with a serious look."What?"Makino sighed. "Sometimes you need to say no. With your character, I know its hard but people would start to abuse your kindness if you continue to let the ask you favor after favor," she reached to his arm and held it. "Sometimes you need to prioritize yourself."Akaashi's eyes turns to the hand holding his arm. He wasn't stupid. He know what Makino wanted to happen and what she was doing. She had made it clear since middle school that she like him and from what he could see, she still feel the same.Akaashi looked up to Makino's face with a frown and shook her hand off his arm. The action, surprising the girl."I think you're mistaken, Makino-san," he said, voice loud and clear. "I wasn't forced to do anything. And contrary to what you think, I do know how to say no. And when I said no, it means 'no'.""Th-then why-""Because it's what I wanted to do," he answered not waiting for her to complete that question. "I'm not taking care of [y/n] because of obligation or because I am forced to do it. It take care of her because that's what I really want," he stated and turned away from her. He then started to walk away. "I'm sorry but I can't return your feelings. Now, if you'll excuse me."Makino watched Akaashi with a hurt expression. Was that mean that he was in love with the other girl? Was that why he was doing all of that for her?Her hurt expression slowly morphed into a look of anger.She don't understand what he have seen in her but she swore, it wasn't over yet. She won't give up. She will never give up. TO BE CONTINUED ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Akaashi raised an eyebrow as he entered the clubroom. His teammates we're all hurdled in the corner, busy with something for some reason. They we're whispering and he could hear snickering coming from them as well.Whatever it was, they we're too engrossed on it, they failed to notice him approaching.Curiously, Akaashi took a peek. His curiosity turned into annoyance as he saw what was holding the boys attention. A porno magazine."What do you think you're doing, bringing something like that here?" he questioned, crossing his arms.The boys jumped in surprise and turned to face Akaashi."C-captain," the first years and second years looked at him guiltily. On the other hand, the third years only grinned shamelessly."Hey, Akaashi. You know, some boys thing," Sakai who was probably the one who brought the thing said.Akaashi stared at him in annoyance. "You're not supposed to bring things like that in here. If the coach finds out, you'll get punished. Have you forgotten what happened to Bokuto-san that time when he was caught carrying one? Also, don't show things like that to the first year," he reprimanded. It doesn't looked like it had an effect to Sakai though."Oh come on, Akaashi. They need to learn how to make women happy. As a man with a girlfriend, you should know how important it is," Sakai stated with a large grin.Akaashi glared at him. "Don't putq me on the same category as you. And don't you dare mention anything perverted to [y/n]. I'll kill you if you taint her innocent mind," Akaashi threatened."Psh, you can't avoid something like that. [y/n]-chan is a curious girl, sooner or later she'll ask things that you we're too scared to answer," Sakai said matter of factly.Akaashi turned to leave the clubroom. "I know but I'll try to protect that innocence as long as I could."[y/n] silently listened to her senpai's talk. No matter how she tries, she can't understand what they we're talking about. There were a lot of terms she dont know. They were something new to her and it's the first time she heard those words.Unable to endure it anymore, she finally decide to ask. Hopefully, they won't be angry at her for interrupting their talk."Uhmm... What is sex?" she asked. Her senpai's then stopped talking and looked at her in silence. She then continued. "Also, what's 69? And cunni-"Stop! Stop! Stop! Don't say those things out loud!" the captain cut her, cheeks red. "How long have you been listening anyway?""I've been here all this time. Coach told me to stay and sit here. I'm not allowed to play because of my injury after all," she said with a shrug."Akaashi will kill us," the vice captain groaned."Hey, [y/n]-chan. Forget what you heard, alright? And don't say those words out loud. Its something you should never say, okay?" the captain said, sweating nervously."But I want to know what are those," [y/n] pouted."You'll find out someday but for now, forget it," the captain insisted.[y/n] was still curious but nodded her head. If they won't tell her then she'll ask Akaashi. Akaashi was very smart, she was sure he could answer all her questions."Careful," Akaashi carefully helped [y/n] on her bed. Once he was sure her injured leg was safe on the soft bed, he stood up."I'll go cook dinner. Stay here, okay?""Ah wait, Keiji-tan!" [y/n] reached up and grabbed his arm. "I have a question."Akaashi raised an eyebrow and nodded. "What is it?""Well... I heard captain and Asai-senpai talking. There are some words I don't understand. What is sex?"Akaashi froze at that question."Also, they were talking about 69 and then-""Enough!" Akaashi cut her.[y/n] jumped a bit, surprised that Akaashi raised his voice. She looked at him wide eyed. She looked scared."S-sorry," he apologized in guilt. He don't mean to s are her. "[y/n], listen. Those words are not something you're supposed to say.""Why?" she asked, confused.Akaashi was at lost how to answer her. [y/n] was a teenage girl and normally, girls on her age we're already aware of those kind of things. However, [y/n] was different. Her mental age was not for a teenage girl. He doubt she could understand him well even if he explain those kinds of things to her."[y/n], I promise you'll understand it someday but not now."[y/n] pouted. "But I want to know!""It's... It's not something I could easily explain," Akaashi said, looking uncomfortable."But Keiji-tan is smart! I'm sure you can explain it well!" she stubbornly insisted.Akaashi sighed. She really won't stop until he said something that would satisfy her."That thing is something people do to make children," he said hoping that it was enough for her.[y/n]'s eyes brightened "Really?""Y-yeah so you don't need to worry about that thing. That's an adult thing.""Then-" she grabbed onto his arm. "Someday when we're adult, we'll do it right?" she said hopefully.Akaashi blushed at that. He was pretty tempted to run to the door and to escape but she couldn't, seeing the hopeful look [y/n] was giving her."W-wedding first b-before that," he said, stuttering.[y/n] nodded. "Okay!"Akaashi run out of the room after [y/n] finally let him go. He leaned on the counter and reached to cover his red face."Why the hell are we talking about marriage this early?" TO BE CONTINUED
10352853	dissonance-driven	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Vriska Serket, Aradia Megido, Terezi Pyrope, Meenah Peixes, Aranea Serket, Sollux Captor", "Fandom": "Homestuck", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by thermodynamicActivity", "chapters": "5/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-18T00:00:00", "words": "7,416", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Humanstuck, One-Sided Attraction, Infidelity, Islamophobia, References to Depression", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Terezi Pyrope & Vriska Serket, Aradia Megido & Vriska Serket, Aradia Megido & Terezi Pyrope & Vriska Serket, Aradia Megido/Terezi Pyrope/Vriska Serket, Aradia Megido & Terezi Pyrope", "Series": "The Collegestuck '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 }	March 2017 - Terezi Pyrope You saw her get arrested at the International Women’s Day protest, after she threw her water bottle at the cops, at your fellow members of the NYPD. She saw you watching her. She made eye contact and everything.“Terezi,” she mouthed, before they pinned her to the ground. They came after her companion, Meenah Peixes, next. She stared at you for one more significant moment, as if asking you not to let them arrest Meenah.Meenah has a child, after all. Something greater than herself to safeguard.“Vriska,” you replied, not loud enough for her to hear, but Vriska saw you mouthing the syllables and thought you might be her salvation.But you did nothing. You watched as they loaded them into the police van and said nothing. You’d known Vriska for twenty years, and said nothing. Just let them improvise zip ties into handcuffs and load her inside.You like to think that you are a woman of principles. And maybe you are. But, true as that could be, maybe you developed the wrong principles over the years. Latula became a public defender, jumping to help those who could not afford legal support.And you, Terezi? You became a cop.Sure, you caught people who needed to be caught. Murderers, and assaulters, and abusers.But this was an act of civil disobedience. Civil disobedience is not a crime.You think back to Mr. Vandayar’s class and how most acts for civil rights were criminalized initially.So you go to Aradia’s with a fifth of gin and drink it while she listens.You’re looking for her to absolve you of what you’ve done. But she thankfully isn’t like that. She watches you carefully, and occasionally answers when you need an answer. And when you need a pick-me-up, she plucks one of her corvid skulls off her bookcase."Alas, poor Yorick," she starts out. "I knew him, Terezi."You give her a shadow of a smile and shake your head.“I did the wrong thing,” you tell her.Aradia shrugs, all childhood hatred of Vriska seemingly forgotten.“She doesn’t have a police record. They’ll release her in three days, max. Sollux has been hauled down to central booking before. They rarely kept him longer than 72 hours.”“I got my friend arrested,” you reply, willing the room to stop swaying.You definitely drank too much gin tonight.“Did you arrest her yourself?” Aradia asks, draping a blanket over your shoulders. You’ve been shivering since you came over, apparently.You shake your head.“Then you didn’t get her arrested. You were following orders.”Just following orders. Just following orders. That is the excuse perpetrators of heinous human rights violations use as they walk backwards into hell. It is not an explanation, it is a way to dodge blame.“You have a choice,” Aradia goes on. “You got high enough on your LSATS to get into any law school you want. Do something with your life that involves less mental turmoil.”“My job pays,” you say defensively.Aradia unpins her hair so that all the looping curls fall around her shoulders. She folds her scarf neatly in front of her on the dining room table.“More or less than your guilt?”You want to tell her that it pays more. That for every protest from innocent people you have to halt, you’ve caught so many more people that deserve their punishment. But you don’t know.You arrested Vriska. You’ve known her… since…If you’re twenty-four, you’ve known her for almost twenty years. March 2017 - Vriska Serket They don’t keep you long in central booking. Well, they would have kept you longer, except Aradia Megido of all people got you out, for some unknown reason. Maybe so she can rub your face in it later.You can’t resist a jibe toward her. You’ve been mocking her for far too many years for that.“Nice hair,” you say. “Thought you were keeping it up ‘cause of your stupid religion.”She opens the door to her car and lets you ride shotgun.“My self-preservation instincts are greater than my beliefs. People who are dead don’t have beliefs.”And that’s how you learn the story of how someone yanked her hijab off on the Q65 bus in November, before calling her every slur he could think of. Shortly after, she decided to stop wearing it. She figured that any benevolent god would forgive her for her this.She brakes short on the FDR drive - and you, not wearing a seatbelt - almost slam your head into the window.“And it’s not a stupid belief,” she adds. “This is my religion, Vriska, and I would like it if you respected it as such.”You don’t want to respect anyone’s religion. Religion, in and of itself, is pretty idiotic as far as you’re concerned. But Aradia got you out of that godforsaken holding cell, and she’s probably driving you back to Queens, back to Aranea’s - to your sister’s house - so you owe her something. You can start by not mocking her beliefs.You swallow until your mouth feels dry, and then you find it in you to ask a question.“Did Meenah get out?”Aradia nods and shifts gears.“Porrim did the honors, and got her released,” she informs you. “She wasn’t at the demonstration because she was at work.”Figures. Porrim fucking Maryam. Scuse you. Porrim Peixes. You know you shouldn’t hate her for being married to Meenah, but you do.You’d make a better girlfriend to her, maybe even a wife, and you know it.Meenah, for her part, rebuffed a lot of your old advances because you were four years younger than she.Age is a just number, as far as you're concerned, though, and you’re going to be twenty-four in October. The difference between twenty-four and twenty-eight, as opposed to seventeen and twenty-one, is not nearly as wide. You hate everything.“Well, that’s good,” you reply.Aradia gives you a sidelong glance as she drives across the RFK bridge.“You don’t seem to think so,” she says.“It’s fucked up of me,” you start out. “But I’m really jealous of them. I really like Meenah.” You gesticulate wildly. “A lot.”Aradia switches lanes. “It’s not fucked up. It’s human.”“Maybe I’m trying to be a better person than I was when I was younger,” you offer.Aradia nods.“I think you’re doing a decent job,” she replies.“Do you really?”“You care about what other people think of you,” she says. “You don’t want to hurt anyone, even if it might help you out in the long run. You’ve changed.”“I’m the same awful person I was when I was twelve, you know.”“The fact that you acknowledge that you were an awful person suggests otherwise.”“That’s just pointing out the truth,” you counter.Aradia smiles faintly, even as she continues driving.“You apologized to Tavros in 9th grade. You apologized to me in 10th grade. The person you were earlier wouldn’t have apologized for anything.”“It was the right thing to do! It was the least I could do!” you protest. “If I hadn’t goaded Tavros to jump off that roof in 7th grade, he’d still be able to walk! And I almost killed you in 9th grade! Of course I apologized!”Instead of getting off the highway at 20th Ave, she keeps driving to Linden Place.“Where are we going?” you want to know.“My house,” she replies.“Don’t you live with Sollux?”Aradia gives you an impish little smile of commiseration. “He’s good at rolling with whatever happens. And he's in California, at the moment.”You shake your head.“Sollux hates my guts.”“He hated your guts in high school,” Aradia says. “Now he’s just… wary of your guts. Y’know, along with the rest of you.”You think for a moment.“I don’t want to start an argument between the two of you.”“The argument should be fairly short, if he comes back early,” Aradia says. “I’ll just explain to him a friend of mine is staying with me for now.”“A friend of yours?” you ask incredulously.“You are a friend of sorts, Vriska. As long as you behave yourself, everything should go smoothly.”“Do you really expect me to behave myself?”She gives you a peck on the forehead and nods.“I expect you to try,” she responds. “For me. Don’t let me down.”Your head tingles at the point of contact. Your heart does weird things in your chest. Aradia finds parking and unlocks your door. When she offers you her hand to take, so you can get out of the car, you don’t protest. You gaze at her again. Pale skin, tired, reddish eyes, and a mop of curly black hair.You don’t want to owe her. But you don’t want to go to Aranea’s. You don’t see any other choice.And if Sollux decides to say douchey things to you, you can give as good as you get.But you don’t want to upset Aradia. You owe her. You’ve owed her for the better part of ten years.So you’ll be good, at least as good as you can be. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- March 2017 - Vriska Serket Being that your sense of decorum is more underdeveloped than your conscience, rather than getting dressed before you start making the oatmeal you found in Aradia’s cabinet, you go through the entire exercise wearing nothing but the towel you used to dry off when you got out of the bath.Aradia comes out of her room wearing her nightgown, her hair still uncovered. And instead of blushing or stammering or doing anything you’d think a religious young woman would do in this situation, she points out that you added too much water to the mixture. At this rate, you’ll have soup, not breakfast. But she says it kindly enough that you don’t think she’s trying to be mean.The towel around your waist starts to fall, and you have to shut it again. She looks at you for a few seconds, and then looks away.“Were you trying to get a rise out of me with that?” she asks, once she’s fixed the oatmeal.Well. You sort of were. But your entire life’s kind of been centered around getting a rise out of people. She’s hardly unique.You don’t nod, though. Almost petulantly, you sit down at the kitchen table. You make sure the towel’s still covering your bottom half. You don’t need to make her even more uncomfortable than you must have. She helped you out and you’re still trying to screw with her, even if it's a minor thing.Aradia takes the seat next to you, and adds a few raspberries to her bowl. She passes the container to you.“Do you want any, Vriska?”“Yeah, thanks.” You dump half the container of raspberries into your oatmeal, and stir them in. You think of your motorcycle again, which Terezi dubbed The Death Machine. “Besides, if I really wanted to get a rise out of you, I’d take you for a ride.”You haven’t done that since 2012, when you were undergraduates, you both needed to get back to campus from northern Queens in some ungodly small amount of time, and you decided the speed limit on the highway was nothing more than a friendly suggestion.She laughs at you, leaning forward on the table, her face propped up with one hand.She reaches toward you, and you barely stop yourself from leaning back. Apparently some of your hair worked itself free from the bun you put it in when you got in the bath. She just wanted to fix it. And she does.You spend the day going to your actual house, mostly so you can pick up some clothes and get the fuck out again, before Aranea comes back. Your leather jacket is still hanging in the closet. You put it on, even if it's too cold for you to be wearing it. This is the greatest article of clothing you have ever and will ever own. You sling your musette bag over your shoulder, and walk downstairs into the garage. Your motorcycle's still parked there. Good.You zip back to Aradia's and hope the cops aren't actually giving speeding tickets around here. That's the last thing you need today.At least she gave you her spare set of keys to the apartment. You buy a pizza on your way back, so Aradia can actually eat something when she gets home from work - she's like, an adjunct professor, or something - and decide you've done your good deed for the day. Good deed for the year, more like. You watch Evil Dead on the couch and inhale some of the food you've bought.When she walks into the living room, her keys jingling in her hand, she takes one look at you - you're half naked, as usual - and one look at the pizza, and snorts."You seem to be enjoying yourself."You pick up a slice and offer it to her."C'mon, it's halal and everything," you inform her."Is that so?""I asked the guy like twenty fucking times," you reply. "If it's not, I'll kill him myself.""I doubt that'll be necessary."She does give you a minor amount of shit when you decide to light up a cigarette in her apartment. So you put on her bathrobe, and smoke outside, supremely disgruntled all the while.At night, when you get ready to go to sleep, you and Aradia share the same twin sized bed. She watches some program on her laptop, and you try to find a comfortable position to sleep in. You didn’t bring much in the way of sleepwear, so you’re down to your sports bra and a pair of bike shorts.You face the wall, thinking. About how you got arrested and Terezi did nothing. About how Meenah is still happily married. But when she and Porrim were arguing, you were the first one she called. Not your sister. When she didn’t get the lead role in productions because of her skin tone, you were the first person she vented at. You even had sex with her a few times, in her senior year of college, before she unceremoniously ended things because you were seventeen and she was twenty-one. And because she already had a girl, even if they were in an open relationship.What you two did should have counted for something, right? That should have meant something, right? Is this your punishment for stringing certain people along? Being unable to get one of the few people you’ve ever really felt something for?Negativity swirls around, and around, and around in your head like a tornado. Aradia switches the bedside light on and shakes your shoulder.“Are you okay?”You roll over to face her, and you decide to be frank.“My best friend did nothing when I got arrested, and I have a thing for a married woman.”You expect Aradia to have some words of wisdom. She’s Sollux’s fiancee. Surely she’s put up with enough of his histrionic crap over the years to have something reassuring to say in the face of whiny bullshit. Instead she turns down the volume on her program and sighs.“Well, that sucks. I’m sorry.”You scoot over so that you’re practically nose to nose with her. When she exhales, you feel the warmth on your face. It’s… nice. You haven’t been this near to someone in ages. You have a knack for pushing most people away before they get this close. But Aradia doesn’t turn away. She gazes at you, measure for measure, with her reddish brown gaze. You can count every single one of her eyelashes from here.You wonder what it would be like if she were to kiss you, or something like that. You remember sophomore year of college, you and her on the Death Machine, her holding onto you for dear life, and idly wondering the same exact thing. You tug on one of her curls, watch it extend, and then spring back.“You’re telling me,” you reply.You’re not surprised when she doesn’t pull away.But you are surprised when she puts her hand on your face.Then, she kisses you. You lean into her and kiss back. Eventually, you two separate, and you’re thankful that the room is mostly dark, because your face is probably red.“What’d you do that for?” you want to know.Aradia takes a good ten seconds to respond.“You seemed like you could use something like that,” she explains. “Although I’m sorry if I took advant--”You start laughing so hard that your sides begin to ache.“You didn’t take advantage. I was hoping you’d do that.”She shakes her head at you.“You and your ulterior motives.”Why is she so pretty, and soft, and nice? Ignoring the time she punched you in 9th grade, but you had that coming.You want her to kiss you again.She complains about insufferable women in leather jackets who smoke entirely too much. You decide that’s your cue to kiss her again.She laughs into your mouth, and before you know it, you’re laughing again too.When the bell rings at ten after one in the morning, you’re both almost sure it’s Sollux, even though he should be gone for another ten days.You offer to answer the door anyway. Aradia asks you to put some actual clothes on, as if that doesn’t go without saying. You throw on one of her sweaters over your shorts, and answer.“I need to talk to you,” comes the voice in the hallway.It’s not Sollux at the door, it’s Terezi. You can’t decide whether that’s a good thing or not, at the moment.Then, Terezi's nose wrinkles. You weren't whom she was expecting.“Vriska,” she says, at a loss for other words. She gives you a wan, nervous smile, wafting up a faint aroma of gin and tonic. “How are you?”You should reply with something understanding. You should keep in mind that Terezi was just doing her job. She couldn’t have intervened to keep you out of trouble without getting in trouble herself. Still, you say the first thing that comes to mind.“Well, I’m not in a holding cell anymore, so that’s a nice change,” you fire back.Terezi nods, gravely.“I didn’t mean for any of that to happen,” she says.Terezi is somewhat intoxicated, and right then and there you decide that this is awful. She went out drinking with her coworkers after her tour ended, and now she’s mildly wasted and whatnot. You have a one drunk friend limit, and you're already close to Roxy Lalonde.You turn aside so she can come into the apartment. For her part, Aradia doesn’t look in the least bit surprised to see her.“I asked for time off,” Terezi says to her, more than to you. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”You and Aradia guide her over to the couch. She sits down and puts her face in her hands, but doesn’t cry. Terezi cries about once every five to ten years.And you’re still angry at her, but you don’t want to be. She is your best friend. Yes, you two were on different sides, and it ended poorly for both of you - for you, more than her. But… still.Maybe you can try this whole greeting thing again, but nicer this time.“D’you want some tea or something?” you ask Terezi.“That would be nice.”Aradia puts on the electric teakettle, and while she’s waiting for the water to boil, she sits down next to Terezi.“I guess you’re taking me up on my offer, then,” Aradia says.What offer?Terezi nods.“Just until I figure out what the hell I’m doing with my life,” she replies.Aradia explains to you that she also offered Terezi somewhere to crash for the time being. You’d be vaguely pissed off about her not telling you until now, but you’re tired of being pissed off. Shit happened. Shit always happens. It’s practically a universal constant.And, with her cup of tea in her hand, Terezi does begin to cry. She apologizes to you for everything, about forty times. You throw an arm around her shoulders.Aradia stands there as if she isn’t quite sure what to do.“C’mon, Terezi,” you say in a tone that you hope is reassuring. “We’re good. The Scourge Sisters aren’t going down that easily.”She smiles weakly, and takes a few cursory sips from her cup of tea. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- March 2017 - Aradia Megido Your name is Aradia, you're in your bed, and one of your hands is tangled in your hair. You think Vriska’s hand had been there before, but now it’s not.You awaken properly to the smell of coffee drifting into your room. Neither Vriska nor Terezi is in your bed. You check the clock on your desk. 7:21 AM. Terezi works from 8 to 4, so she must have left already.You stretch, yawn, and get out of bed, after considering the thought of going back to sleep for another hour. You have a class to teach at 1, a Skype call to make to Sollux at 10:30, and grading to finish before then. You get out of bed.Vriska’s ironing a dark blue blazer in your kitchen. One that matches the skirt she’s hung on a hanger on the bathroom door. She pours herself a cup of coffee, and stops ironing for long enough to drink some of it.“Going somewhere?” you ask.“Work,” she replies.And before you can stop yourself, you ask, “dressed like that?”Vriska rolls her eyes.“Don’t look so surprised, Megido,” she says. “Eridan got me a job as a receptionist at his father’s office on the Upper East Side. Business professional, and all that.”You nod, and stop yourself from giving a great snort. “I forgot Eridan had a father.”Vriska laughs, a genuine laugh, and offers you some coffee.“Yeah, so did the rest of us. That fucker was always overseas anyway,” she goes on. “I ask you, what kind of parent would trust Cronus to watch anyone?”You grin. “A stupid parent.”“Duh.”It feels odd when she references your childhood, the childhood where you two were friends. The childhood you spent in that park in Whitestone, playing cops and robbers and shit-talking every high school student you knew except for Damara, Latula, and Rufioh. You, Vriska, Terezi, Calliope, Tavros, and Eridan. Eridan, especially, since his parents were across the world. He never had a curfew. Most of the time, he went home with either Vriska or Tavros.(Team Charge, you think wistfully. How long ago was that? When was the last time Tavros’s legs worked?You’re no longer angry at Vriska for that dare. Anger doesn’t turn the clocks back.Besides, Vriska seems far more angry at herself than you could ever be at her.)Everyone except for you attended the Catholic school a few blocks away. You attended Al-Mamoor until 7th grade, and Damara had to take the bus with you to Jamaica to make sure you got there in one piece. It was really because you’d begun wearing the headscarf, and this was during the height of the war on terror. She didn’t want anyone to harass you, because you weren’t like her. She could fight quite well, and would fight someone over provocation.Even so, you think things might have been simpler then. Sure, you and Vriska never quite got along that well, and you were always worried about being called things on mass transit, but you had fun, anyway. Your friends ate pizza from the pizzeria on 14th, and you ate whatever lunch your parents and/or Damara had packed for you.“Are you gonna drink your coffee?” Vriska wants to know. “Or are you just planning to stare into the cup all day?”You sigh.Yes, Vriska has changed. But she’s still Vriska.After she finishes her coffee, she hands you an envelope full of fifty dollar bills, and you gaze at her, perplexed.“For letting me stay here,” she explains. “I can’t imagine you’re enjoying this.”“I’m not upset about it,” you reply. You don’t even try to count the money now. “I actually offered to let you--”“People offer a lot of things, to be kind,” Vriska says. “And then, they change their mind. Money tends to prevent that from happening. Besides, Sollux will come back at some point.”You’re not following her line of logic.“And?” you ask.“And, this way you can tell him that I gave you my entire paycheck as rent money,” she says. “It makes more sense than you thinking I’m a nice person, or you being a nice person, or some other nonsense.”You guess that makes sense. You still want to know why she doesn’t want to be in the same room as Aranea, but you figure that has to do with Meenah, and thinking about all that sort of thing is kind of depressing.You were all in high school when Meenah broke off their relationship, and Vriska didn’t show up for school for almost a week after. When she did, she was swaying and slurring and had clearly been supplementing her lunch with whatever 70 proof swill Roxy brought to school that day.But Roxy had cut down on drinking by then.So Vriska had purchased her own 70 proof swill from the liquor store on Kingsbridge.You remember sitting two seats away from her in AP Lit and listening to her murmur her way through half of T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland - not slurring too badly - while Mrs. Levin-Vandayar looked on with vague concern.“...What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man, You cannot say, or guess, for you know only A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water…”You think of Eridan in 14th Ave park, infatuated with Vriska until college. But he got over her, and - or maybe he didn’t, maybe that was how she got her job - didn’t self-destruct. He’d already self-destructed in high school.Vriska gets properly dressed, her blouse covering her tattoo. You walk into the kitchen, and see a bowl of fava beans soaking on the counter. You don’t question it. She transforms herself from someone who looks like trouble into someone who belongs on the Upper East Side, with all the opulent buildings, and all the well-dressed people.“You look nice,” you say to her.Her smile is slow to come, but when it does, you think it might be able to light up a room.It’s like Sollux smiling. Rare and beautiful.She takes a seat beside you on the couch - while you are grading - and puts her head on your shoulder. You throw an arm around her shoulders.“I’m making dinner tonight,” she says. “After I get home. Terezi won’t be able to cook, and this is the least I can do.”“Well, that explains the fava beans,” you reply. “You don’t owe me anything, you know. Really, you don't.”"I do."She shakes her head. You look for something to say that won’t make her uncomfortable.“Have a good day at work, okay?” you ask. “And I’ll eat whatever you decide to make. But tomorrow, I’m cooking.”Another smile. Fainter but still present.“My father used to make this all the time when I was a kid. Ful Medames,” she says. “And I’m almost sure you can eat it, so...”Her glasses have gone ever-so-slightly askew. You’ve been conditioned to notice this kind of thing. The effects of dating people who wear glasses. You straighten them. She barely moves the entire time, just keeps staring at you.She cracks a joke about how creepy the skulls on the bookcase are, even pointing to a canine skull. You point out that whoever owned it is clearly not using it at the moment.She laughs, breathy and high, still close to you.Before you can rethink this course of action, you kiss her on the mouth. You’re not quite sure why you do. That's a lie. You do, because you want to.The kiss deepens, and leaving her pinned between you and the couch. You take both of her wrists in one hand, and pin them down as well.Her breathing evens out, and when you get a hand up her skirt, she starts trying to wriggle out of the garment.Then, you start to think properly.You must be wrinkling her clothing. She has to go to work. You need to stop doing impulsive things, Aradia.When you finally let her up, she looks pretty much the same, but for the high color in her cheeks.She says goodbye to you and walks out the door, not before giving you the mother of all grins. Score 2: Vriska. Score 0: Aradia.Great.Once she’s left, you try to grade. You get through two examinations, before you stop, and gaze at the ceiling.“What on earth am I doing?” you ask.You aren’t expecting a response, but nobody answers you.Just look at you. You’re going to Skype with Sollux in a few hours.In that time, you’re going to have to figure out something to tell him that doesn’t sound ridiculous.You think you can. Probably.You contemplate women with blue-black hair and leather jackets, and try to finish grading. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- March 2017 - Aradia Megido You do love seeing Sollux, even if it’s over Skype, and he’s across the country. You’re not sure whether it’s your connection or his connection that's so bad - probably yours - since he’s a tad more grainy than usual.“This company wants me to stick around,” he explains. “Just until they launch, and then I’ll be coming home, AA.”“Makes sense,” you reply. You chew idly on your lower lip. “Don’t rush yourself on my account.”“I won’t,” he promises. “How have you been doing the last few days?”You could tell him the truth. You really could. But it strikes you as something that should be revealed when he returns, and not now. Not like this, where you can barely see Sollux’s grainy face.You want to explain yourself, in person. You want him to be present when you explain yourself, because you will. You don’t think it’ll jeopardize your engagement, but it’ll definitely require a bit of explaining.“Terezi and Vriska are staying with me for the moment,” you reply.Sollux shoots you a skeptical glance. “Vriska? My condolences.”“Yeah. But she’s actually being pretty okay about the whole thing. And you know how Terezi is.”He grins. He was friends with her throughout high school and college. Two overachievers in something of a rivalry. You think she might have been salutatorian if Roxy hadn’t shocked literally everyone by getting the medal.And you can’t help but feel that maybe if Terezi been a little more heterosexual, Sollux would have gotten involved with her. You wouldn’t have begrudged him this. You have an open relationship, and, besides, Terezi’s brand of humor was so like Sollux’s that you found yourself hanging out with her, just to hear what she had to say.She always knew how to make you laugh.“Vriska’s staying here because she got arrested recently,” you go on. “She doesn’t want to go home.”Sollux snorts. “Why am I not surprised?”“She got arrested at the women’s day protest. Meanwhile, Terezi’s like, uh…” You trail off for a bit. “She doesn’t know if she’s making the right choice, being a cop and all. So she took some time off.”“Sounds dramatic,” Sollux replies.You snort.“Not particularly. The most dramatic part of it is figuring out how to fit three people into our bed.”“Why not exile one of them to the couch?” Sollux asks. “Preferably Vriska.”“The couch is across from the front door,” you counter. “If Vriska decided she wanted to get into trouble, she wouldn’t have to do much. I’ll be mad if she gets herself arrested again. This way, she has to get through me and Terezi if she plans to do anything.”You know that she and Eridan were once fond of illegal substances, once. Eridan did the substances, and Vriska sold them - on and off.“Good idea.” Sollux sighs. “At this rate, I’ll be home in fifteen days, and then we can figure out what’s what. Together.”You smile at the thought of Sollux returning.“I miss you, you know.”“I miss you more than I can possibly say. You’d have fun lecturing my supervisors, given the hours I have.”“Do you need me to yell at anyone?” you ask. “Are you taking your medication regularly?”“Of course.” He raises a bottle of lithium carbonate - you think it's lithium from the pill shape - and takes two in front of you, just to reassure you.You two talk for another twenty minutes, and when he hangs up, you try not to feel a little sad. Chances are he’ll call you either tonight or tomorrow morning.But you have more important things to consider.You finish grading your exams, get dressed, and hold your headscarf in front of you.You sigh.You call Terezi, and are pleasantly surprised when she answers her cell phone. She must be on break. This is the last day she has to work before she starts taking time off.“Aradia? Is everything okay?”“Everything’s fine,” you answer. “I just wanted to know, if you were me, what would you wear to work today?”“Whatever I wanted,” she says.“You wouldn’t be afraid to wear something that might draw undue attention to yourself?”“I would,” Terezi admits. “But I’d try not to let my fear dictate my actions. I’ve done that in the past. It’s not worth it, especially now.”“That’s what I thought,” you say.You begin to pin the scarf around your head.“I can walk out of here now, and accompany you to work. I don’t think they’d write me up. And I don't think anyone would fuck with you if you were sitting next to someone in uniform.”Terezi’s concern is nearly palpable. You think of one of the first times you really spoke to her, and she asked you why you wore that headscarf. Then, she promised to kick the ass of anyone who decided to question you, because those people were encroaching on your rights. She would not see injustice perpetuated so easily.“You don’t have to,” you reply. You secure the last of your pins. Everything hangs nicely. You're not out of practice, then.“Text me when you get to work, alright,” she replies. “Let me know if anything happens.”You survey your reflection, the red scarf embroidered with golden thread covering your head. Sollux got you that scarf, then had a minor episode of guilt when he realized aloud that he didn’t know if you could wear it. If it was too flashy. You assured him that you could.So you will.You will not be made afraid by the powers that be. Vriska refused to be afraid. Even Terezi… Terezi would protect you. Terezi has a sense of morality that transcends anything she learned at the police academy.Therefore, you’ll be wary. You’ll be somewhat afraid. But you won’t let your fear dictate your life. Not now. Not anymore.You grin at your reflection, at how completely right it looks. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- March 2017 - Aradia Megido You’re tired after work. Two consecutive classes to teach, and then office hours. Not that your students exactly utilize your office hours. You basically spend them sitting in your chair in an Anthropology department office, trying to look busy, but more often playing solitaire on your phone.However, one student came by to personally rip you a new one for giving him a 77 on his exam. He can’t get any C’s. He’s a pre-med. You might have been kinder if he legitimately had questions for you, but he walked in, guns blazing, and all but demanded a higher grade.You raised an eyebrow and informed him that you didn’t give grades, he earned them.Oh, how you used to hate hearing that as an undergrad. Now you know it’s true. For the most part, anyway.This kid’s polar opposite showed up about twenty minutes before your office hours were set to end. He got around the same grade, but he wanted to know what he did wrong. So you pointed out where his answers were either lacking, or flat-out incorrect. He thanked you afterwards, and apologized for coming so late.“Sorry about that, Professor Megido,” he said. “My last class just ended a half hour ago.”“Don’t worry about it. It’s not a problem.”As you take the bus home from the college, you sort of wish you had driven here. But parking is a bit of a nightmare at times, gas prices are ridiculous, and besides, the time spent on mass transit gives you time to think. Nobody tries anything untoward in your direction. You’re happy about that.When you reach the landing for your apartment building, you can hear Terezi and Vriska bickering before you even get to the door.“Yeah, that’s definitely burning, Vriska.”“Like you’d be able to tell,” she fires back.“Food burning is something you smell, in case you failed to notice.”“Yeah, well, I’m the one with the experience making this,” Vriska says. “And I say it isn’t burning.”“Do you have experience burning it, too?”“Did I ask for your fucking opinion?”“Do you ever ask for my opinion?”“Once or twice a year. I like to change things up.”A pause, maybe two or three minutes long.Someone sighs.“The beans at the bottom of the pot might be a little browner than they should be,” Vriska concedes. “But I can fix this.”“Are you going to burn it even more?”“Terezi, if I hear the word ‘burn’ come out of your mouth one more time, I’ll smack you.”“Yeah, and I’ll dodge. Gonna need some ice for that burn.”You try to laugh silently. “You can’t dodge forever.”“Watch me.”You unlock and open the front door. The both of them stop talking momentarily. You put your bag, keys, and coat on a nearby chair.“What’s burning?” you ask.“Dinner,” Terezi says. “Should I call for pizza now or should I wait for the fire department to get here?”“I swear to fucking god,” Vriska says.She tries to kick Terezi’s leg out from underneath her, but Terezi moves away a full half second before she makes the attempt. You grin.“You’re burning dinner, and you got beaten by a blind woman,” Terezi points out. “You’re on a roll today.” At Vriska’s anger, she amends her statement somewhat. “Okay, you haven’t quite burned it yet.”“Oh, so you admit it,” Vriska says triumphantly.“Yes, I admit that if you don’t stop gloating and start stirring the beans, you’re going to burn our dinner.”They get along a little better after that, which is odd, because they’re usually sniping at each other. Vriska continues to stir the beans, and Terezi stands over her shoulder so she can watch. They don’t really seem to notice you all that much. You don’t mind. It gives you time to get undressed and into more comfortable clothing.They resume talking loud enough that you can hear.“To be fair, even if you had burned it, it wouldn’t have been like the time Sollux, Karkat, Gamzee, and Tavros tried to make spaghetti and meat sauce,” Terezi says.“They did what?”“Okay, once upon a time, we were in college,” Terezi starts out.“Well, fucking obviously,” Vriska replies.“Once upon a time we were college sophomores,” she continues.“I was a sophomore for two and a half years, so...”“You know what I mean,” Terezi says. “Anyway, Karkat gets it in his head that he’s going to cook something for dinner.”You poke your head into the kitchen.“Was this the time they almost burned down their suite?”Terezi frowns at you. “Way to spoil the ending. Anyway, Karkat starts boiling water for spaghetti. Impossible for anyone to mess up. Except he overcooked the spaghetti and a bunch of it ended up stuck to the bottom of the pot.”“That’s not that bad,” you say. “I’ve done that before.”“Okay, but, like, think to yourself, Aradia. Out of the four of them, who can actually cook?”“Tavros and Gamzee,” Vriska responds.“Which is why, due to their combined lack of good sense, Sollux and Karkat were doing the cooking,” Terezi goes on. “Sollux forgot you had to thaw the meat before you made the meat sauce, and Tavros was trying to give him instructions since he couldn’t get up to the stove himself, but Sollux was being his usual insufferable bastard self, so-”“Sollux is not an insufferable bastard,” you protest. You think for a few moments. You change that statement around. “Okay, well, not all the time.”Vriska and Terezi exchange glances.“At any rate, Sollux was being an insufferable bastard, and he had gotten into his head that he was like, Master Chef, or whatever,” Terezi says.“What did Tavros do about that?” Vriska asked.“He did the sensible thing, and wheeled himself the hell out of the suite.”All three of you share a laugh over that one.“At the end of their grand experiment, there remained nothing but overcooked pasta, a tripped fire alarm, and scorched tomato sauce mixture that had taken on the appearance of lava,” Terezi says. “Gamzee put on some potholders, threw it in the garbage can, and it melted through the bag.”You pause for a second to take that in.“And that, my friends, is the story of how Sollux, Karkat, Gamzee, and Tavros - well, sorta - almost burned down their suite.”“Why would they even make the attempt to cook?” Vriska wants to know.“I don’t know how true this is,” Terezi begins. “It’s probably completely true, but allegedly Jade bet Karkat a hundred bucks that he couldn’t cook anything.”Vriska rolls her eyes. “If that was all the bet was, he should have just microwaved a hot pocket, delivered it to her building, and then demanded his money.”Terezi grins.“Well, of course, you’d solve the problem that way.”After dinner, you three play several dozen rounds of blackjack. It’s lucky for you that nobody’s wagering any money, because you get the distinct impression that Vriska is managing to cheat. Somehow. So is Terezi. You have no idea how one would cheat in blackjack, but if anyone could manage it, it would be those two.It’s both better and worse when you switch to poker. Terezi just rakes in the hypothetical dough. Her poker face is absolutely air-tight. Meanwhile, everyone can tell when Vriska has a good hand, because she looks excited about it. You aren’t as bad as Vriska, but you are far from emotionless. You’re really only emotionless when something is wrong. Otherwise, you’re expressive and bright.“Did everything go okay at work today?” Terezi asks you, during your second round.“Just fine. Had an annoying student show up at my office hours.”“You should have told him to fuck off,” Vriska says.All of you look at her. She maintains what she has said.“What? I would have told him to fuck off.”Terezi puts an arm around her waist just the same.“And that is why you will never be a professor.”“If I had to be a professor, I would cut my own class every day,” Vriska says, poking you in the leg with her foot. You poke her right back.You smile. “What if you didn’t have class every day?”“I’d find a way.”You lean forward - and after a few second’s thought - kiss her on the forehead. Vriska grins, and for a second you’re pleased with yourself. Then she opens her mouth.“You realize that you just showed me all your cards.”Oh. Well. That figures.You call her an asshole and laugh anyway.
10354326	Wide Spaces	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Seth Twiright, Adam Moonlit", "Fandom": "Evillious Chronicles", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by zealousrebelmaker", "chapters": "1/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-18T00:00:00", "words": "874", "Additional Tags": "i'll tag later????", "Relationship": "Seth Twiright/Adam Moonlit", "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 }	BT002, 11 April The prince of Levianta was not one for being able to keep a cool head under the greatest of pressures. This was a fact that Professor Seth Twiright knew all too well, for most youths the prince's age had the very same trait. Frustration and disappointment would quickly set in whenever there was even the slightest discrepancy in an activity or an uncontrollable event, and the climax of it all would be the presence of uncontrollable anger. The older ones have a plethora of knowledge and years worth of experience – even the dumbest of fools will get a little smarter with age. Seth lay in bed while looking at the second hand of his alarm clock tick by, having woken up half an hour ago from a three-day-long slumber. It was 2:45 AM. He knows that it's foolish to waste time, but there's really nothing productive to be done in the wee hours of the morning. His body was completely sluggish, addled with sleep, and the cool air that seeps in through the open windows of his room only made him pull the covers over himself a little more. There really was no need for the air-conditioning in March – it's plenty cold already, and despite the fact that he's had more sleep than he could ever afford, it wouldn't hurt to sleep a little more. There were various messages that were left in Seth's phone. It was a wonder that Seth had slept through all of that incessant ringing. But all that matters now is the comforting feeling of the sheets over his body – the odd cleanness of his hands and feet, accompanied with the strong feeling of wanting to fall asleep yet again is all that he wants to know. The work can wait, he thinks. For once, the work can wait, and the kingdom of Levianta can handle three days of his absence. If he sleeps again, he will dream once more. Seth isn't one for being prophetic, in contrast to the kingdom's queen and her son. Surely not; he could never hold a candle to Alice Merry-Go-Round and Adam Moonlit in foretelling the future, but a dream was the reason why he woke up in the first place. A three-day-long dream that never stopped until he woke up walked with him in his slumber, and he tries to remember it again blearily. It was a simple dream that he didn't take much energy to try and recall minute details about. It was the destruction of the great kingdom of Levianta, and he survives it. In the dream, he survives it, and the rest perished. Queen Alice had already prophesied about the destruction, but never of anyone's survival in particular. He finds himself laughing weakly at the prospect. It's not a mere dream. Something like that had happened before – had he left himself behind, he would have died along with that old world. Should this kingdom perish, of course he would survive again. Was the dream a prophecy, or detailed instructions for the future? There were many things to think about regarding the revelation of a certain part of the future – would it be self-fulfilling, or should it be actually worked on? Time is certainly a funny thing, but it is certainly something that shouldn't be messed with, if one doesn't know exactly what they're dipping their feet into. Meta Salmhofer had joined Apocalypse sometime this year, and Seth grumbles at the thought. As much as he was proud of making a few prototypes, it was evident that he's been creating nothing but mindless criminals who wreak havoc all over the place and cause unnecessary commotion at the most inconvenient of times. His twelfth and last, Irina Clockworker, was ultimately created and sent away for a very meager experiment – nature or nurture, as he decided. Would a person like her have a change of character just because of the way she's raised, or would she remain the same no matter what type of living conditions she'd be thrust in? He'd prefer to sleep on that for a little while. The day greets him with unpleasant news: the Senate is in shambles. Various members were arguing with each other over the most trivial of problems. Seth himself sits at the center, listening to complaints and insults from every corner, and he catches a few topics that seemed noteworthy. Abolishing the monarchy. The importance of the twin gods. The dilemma of not being able to find a proper woman with a vast amount of magical power. He listens, and he waits. Those were long-standing issues ever since Seth himself threw out Queen Alice due to her incompetence in her role. It was by far getting a little too ridiculous as to how easily she could be manipulated, and her meager delusions in thinking that the twin gods were of her blood almost made him think that she was half-mad at most. Papers were being thrown, fists were being shaken at, and in an air of unsettling calmness, Professor Twiright stands up and puts his hands behind his back. He clears his throat to speak. “We will now speak of the first topic of the day: the solidification of the monarchy.”
10384980	Odkupienie	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Remus Lupin", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "Polski", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by xLasair", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-20T00:00:00", "words": "12,783", "Additional Tags": "Africa, Post-War", "Relationship": "Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	OD TEJ CHWILI WSZYSTKO MA MIEJSCE PO WOJNIE, ALE ZANIM HARRY POTTER UTONĄŁ W CHŁODNEJ, NIEBIESKO-ZIELONEJ WODZIE RZEKI URUBAMBA, WCIĄŻ SIEDZI PRZYPIĘTY PASAMI W AUTOBUSIE, KTÓRY PRZEKROCZYŁ BARIERĘ BEZPIECZEŃSTWA MOSTU W PÓŁNOCNO-WSCHODNIM PERU; CAŁKIEM SAM, CHOĆ Z DWUDZIESTOMA DWOMA TUBYLCAMI, KTÓRYCH NIGDY NIE POZNAŁ, MIMO IŻ TAKĄ MIAŁ NADZIEJĘ. MYŚLAŁ, CO W TEJ SYTUACJI STOSOWNE, O DRACO MALFOYU. BYŁ TO JASNY I BEZCHMURNY DZIEŃ, A WIATR SILNYM PODMUCHEM GNAŁ W KIERUNKU PÓŁNOCY, NIOSĄC ZE SOBĄ ZAPACH LASU I WCZORAJSZEGO DESZCZU, I BYŁ PRZYJEMNYM, DOBRYM DNIEM. DOBRYM DNIEM NA ŚMIERĆ. Afrykę, jak Harry zdołał szybko zauważyć, można było łatwo przedzielić po środku na dwie części. Pierwsza jest tropikalna i płaska, a mokra czerwona glina przykleja się do zagłębień w podeszwach butów i plami nieodwracalnie dosłownie wszystko, co dotknęło jej powierzchni. Druga to złota, skąpana w słońcu pustynia, gdzie piasek jest sypki niczym cukier i dostaje się wszędzie: we włosy i ubrania, a szczególnie do ust, kiedy mówisz, oddychasz lub jeśli co sił w płucach krzyczysz do nieskazitelnego, biało-błękitnego nieba z najwyższej piaskowej wydmy, jaką tylko udaje ci się znaleźć, rozkładając ramiona i unosząc dłonie do góry: „CZY TO WSZYSTKO?!”. * — Nie mogę wybaczyć sobie tego, że cię kocham — mówi mu Draco pewnego razu, gdy myśli, że Harry zasnął. Pościel szeleści przy każdym ruchu. Harry walczy, by utrzymać równomierny oddech. Nie śpi przez resztę nocy, czekając, aż Draco znowu się odezwie, czekając na wyjaśnienia. Odpowiedź nie nadchodzi. * Lotniska tutaj to istny koszmar. Kruszący się beton i złuszczająca farba koloru przytłumionego beżu, podrożni odmawiający tworzenia kolejek, zdający się stosować jakieś inne, typowo afrykańskie zasady dotyczące procedur odprawy. Powietrze jest gorące i duszne, niekomfortowo zatęchłe, a klimatyzację stanowią otwarte okna i zawieszone u sufitu wentylatory. Słońce świeci jasno nawet w pomieszczeniach, dekoruje ciemne, błyszczące twarze pracowników lotniska siedzących przy komputerach. Wydają się być odporni na upał — noszą zapięte aż po szyję koszule z podwiniętymi rękawami, mężczyźni na lewych przegubach mają złote zegarki, a kobiety rzędy bransoletek, brzęczących głośno na przedramionach. Jedna z pracownic zza biurka przed nimi zamiast preferowanego przez większość złota (a może mosiądzu?) nosi srebrną biżuterię. Ma długą szyję, w uszach turkusowe kolczyki. Jej głos brzmi na wyćwiczony, kiedy przypomina Harry’emu: — Komputer wciąż szuka pańskiego pojazdu. — Mówiłem, że trzeba było się aportować — syczy mu w ucho Draco. Jego policzki są zaróżowione od gorąca, a tuż przy linii włosów ukazuje się kropelka potu, której odkryciem z pewnością byłby zszokowany. — To miejsce jest gorsze niż Święty Mungo z szaleńcami puszczonymi samopas. Co, gwoli przypomnienia, już widziałem. Harry wywraca oczami i ucieka wzrokiem w bok, odmawiając kolejnego wyjaśniania niebezpieczeństw aportacji do miejsca, w którym nigdy wcześniej nie byli, włącznie z nieznośnymi problemami i detalami, niezbędnymi zasadami, a w tym przypadku ich brakiem. Mógłby jeszcze wspomnieć o ryzyku aportacji w Afryce, gdzie możliwość wylądowania na minie czy natknięcia się na działania partyzanckie jest niezwykle wysoka i zagrożenie czyha na każdym zakręcie, nie mówiąc o okolicach, w które się wybierają. Nie, dziękuję, skorzystamy z samochodu. A mówiąc o nim... — Przepraszam? — Harry wyciąga szyję i zza wielkiego monitora próbuje złapać spojrzenie kobiety, która zdaje się być dla nich dostępna tylko wtedy, kiedy tego chce. Jest wysoka i szczupła, jej oczy i skóra mają kolor espresso, które rankiem kupuje czasem Draco przed spotkaniem z pracownikami ministerstwa. Harry zwykle nazywa ich jego kuratorami, ale on w ogóle nie wyłapuje żartu, zresztą sam Harry nie sądzi, by było to tak zabawne, jak na początku. Wojna zakończyła się ponad pięć lat temu. Wszystko rozwiązało się dokładnie w taki sposób, jakiego oczekiwano, jaki zawsze przepowiadano: Harry Potter samodzielnie pokonał Voldemorta i zyskał w świecie więcej poklasku, niż można było przewidzieć. Wciąż jeszcze pozostają liczne „ale”, bo nikt nigdy nie powiedział mu o mniejszych bitwach, które trzeba było stoczyć, by wygrać wojnę. Nikt nie wspominał o ofiarach (słowo to jest dla niego niewygodne), których imion nie wyryto na tablicy pamiątkowej; nie mówił, co dla niego poświęcili, a Harry nie uważa ich czynów za oczywiste. Nigdy nie mówili też o tym, że życie straci Ron, Dumbledore czy Cho Chang i setki innych ludzi, ani nie uprzedził, jak wielu z nich Harry zabije własnoręcznie. Sądzi, że Draco Malfoy jest dzisiaj z nim właśnie z powodu tych detali, których ciężar spoczywa na ramionach Harry’ego. Draco podążył leżącą przed nim wydeptaną ścieżką. Zaraz po ukończeniu Hogwartu wcielono go do grona śmierciożerców. Harry słyszał pogłoski, że zajmował wysoką pozycję i należał do najważniejszych kręgów, ale nie lubi wierzyć w plotki. Zasnąć pomaga mu myśl, że mężczyzna, który śpi w pokoju obok, nie spędził całej wojny planując jego upadek. Wnioskuje, że skoro Draco nie poczynił nieoczekiwanych kroków w ciągu ostatnich czterech lat umowy, raczej nie zrobi tego teraz. Do końca wyroku pozostało mu tylko sześć miesięcy. Karę tę wyznaczono mu po zeznaniach Harry’ego, kiedy oświadczył, że Draco Malfoy to dobry człowiek, należący do złej strony, czego powodem w większej części była manipulacja ze strony Lucjusza Malfoya, i nie zasługiwał na Azkaban. Harry kładzie się do łóżka wiedząc, że Malfoy robi to samo za ścianą, że nieważne, czy jego słowa na przesłuchaniu były prawdą. Liczył się Draco, którego serce nadal biło w piersi, a życie zostało ocalone. Harry zabrał na drugą stronę wiele ludzkich istnień i nie zdołał uratować wielu więcej. Draco uniknął dementorów, oddając się pod prawną opiekę Harry’emu Potterowi, czarodziejowi najbardziej odpowiedniemu do tego, by zrehabilitować go do czasu wypuszczenia na wolność. W zamian Harry dostał przyjemność spędzenia z nim pięciu lat, by towarzyszył mu w sytuacjach podobnych do tej, do czekania na dusznym, niewygodnym lotnisku we wschodniej Afryce, podczas gdy praprzodek wszystkich komputerów lokalizował ich samochód. Kobieta za biurkiem uśmiecha się do nich mechanicznie, odsłaniając dwa rzędy prostych, perliście białych zębów. — Komputer wciąż szuka pańskiego pojazdu. W jej głosie słychać wyraźny akcent, którego Harry nigdy nie słyszał, zanim się tu znalazł, ale uznaje, że podoba mu się coraz bardziej. Dolatują do niego strzępy rozmów mijających go ludzi i dwóch ochroniarzy, którzy stoją po obu stronach jego i Draco. Każdy z nich trzyma pistolet — uchwyt w jednej dłoni, lufę w drugiej, a palec wskazujący spoczywa delikatnie obok spustu. Draco pyta o nie, ale Harry nie jest dostatecznie zaznajomiony z mugolskimi narzędziami obrony, by znać jej techniczną nazwę, więc odpowiada mu, że to „broń maszynowa”. Grzebie chwilę w torbie i wyciąga świstek papieru, po czym podaje go kobiecie. — Widzi pani? Zarezerwowałem samochód wcześniej, czy nie powinien na nas już czekać? Pracownica nie zaszczyca dokumentu najmniejszym spojrzeniem. — Komputer wciąż szuka pańskiego pojazdu. — Dzięki za uaktualnienie informacji — rzuca Draco zgryźliwie i, westchnąwszy, teatralnie odrzuca głowę do tyłu. — Wiedziałem, że to zły pomysł. Harry udaje, że nic nie usłyszał. Komputer lokalizuje wreszcie ich pojazd po czasie, który wydaje się być wiecznością. Opuszczają lotnisko, ale najpierw Harry zatrzymuje się na terminalu, by porozmawiać z dużą rodziną tubylców nie mających przy sobie bagażu i noszących ubrania niemal do białości wyblakłe od słońca. Kobieta trzyma w uścisku dłoń męża tak mocno, iż Harry ma wrażenie, że lada chwila połamie sobie nadgarstek. Oddaje im wszystkie pieniądze, które ma przy sobie, całe trzysta euro, i musi wypisać im czek na kolejne pięćdziesiąt tysięcy, bo w okolicy ani śladu jakiegokolwiek banku. * — Jesteś tego pewien, Harry? Afryka to raczej... — Do dnia dzisiejszego Remus pozostaje jedyną osobą, która potrafi przygotować herbatę w dokładnie taki sposób, jaki lubi Harry. Uśmiecha się z wdzięcznością, kiedy ten wręcza mu kubek, i pozwala powiekom opaść na moment, wdychając korzenny, ciepły zapach. — Taką wycieczkę trzeba dobrze rozważyć — kontynuuje Lupin, siadając naprzeciwko niego w saloniku na Grimmauld Place. Harry oddał mu dom pod opiekę krótko po tym, jak odszedł Syriusz, ponieważ on sam nadal przebywał w Hogwarcie, a także z innych, bardziej osobistych powodów. Śmierć Syriusza odznaczyła na Lupinie niemałe piętno, które, jak podejrzewa, przypomina mu o sobie każdego wieczoru, kiedy kładzie się spać do niegdyś wspólnego łóżka. Czasami Harry myśli, że zbyt szybkie powierzenie mu Grimmuald Place było dla niego wielkim ciężarem, ale z drugiej strony nie sądzi, by istniał ktoś inny, komu Syriusz chciałby powierzyć dom. Podejrzewa, że Remus w tajemnicy podziela jego opinię, choć za każdym razem, kiedy Harry go odwiedza, cienie pod jego oczami są coraz większe. — Gdzie się zatrzymasz, kiedy dotrzesz na miejsce? Czy miasta są bezpieczne? Zabierasz ze sobą Draco? Harry się śmieje. — Muszę, nie mogę obejść zasad. Ministerstwo nakazuje, żeby był pod moją obserwacją przez cały czas, więc nie sądzę, by spojrzeli przychylnie na to, że zostawiam go samego i odwiedzam inny kontynent. — Ale, jak sobie wyobrażam, nie skakał z radości na tę wieść? Harry potrząsa głową i odpowiada uśmiechem. — Właściwie jeszcze mu nie powiedziałem. — Harry... — zaczyna Remus ostrzegawczym tonem. — Wiem, że Draco ma swoje opinie — dodaje naprędce. — To z pewnością, wciąż rzuca sarkastycznymi komentarzami i nie sądzę, by kiedykolwiek się ich oduczył. Ale zrozumie sytuację. — Unosi filiżankę do ust. — Nie będzie miał nic przeciwko. Nie może mieć. Remus przez moment wpatruje się w Harry’ego znad filiżanki, lekko dmuchając na parę. — Owszem, nie może — potwierdza. Herbaciana mgiełka rozpływa się w powietrzu. — Podjąłeś wszystkie środki bezpieczeństwa? Dowiedziałeś się czegoś o miejscach, w które się wybierasz? Harry macha wymijająco dłonią i upija łyk naparu. Jest zbyt gorący i parzy od czubka języka aż po sam przełyk, ale minęły wieki, odkąd delektował się porządną filiżanką herbaty. (Ani on, ani Draco nie potrafią bezpiecznie zagotować wody, a różdżka Malfoya została skonfiskowana.) — Wszystkim zajmą się pracownicy biura turystycznego — odpowiada. — Posiadają informacje o obecnej sytuacji i wszystkich innych pierdołach, o których mi opowiadali. Dostałem od nich broszury, ktore miałem zabrać do domu i przeczytać, ale to jeszcze bardziej namąciło mi w głowie, całe te paszporty, regulacje i Merlin wie, co jeszcze. Powiedziałem, co zamierzam i pozwoliłem, żeby wszystko załatwili. Kupili mi bilety, wynajęli samochód i wszystko ustawili. Nie zostajemy w jednym miejscu więcej niż dwa-trzy dni, a nie wysłaliby mnie w zbyt niebezpieczne tereny. Będą węszyć na bieżąco, co się tam dzieje. — Tak, myślę, że muszą to robić — potwierdza Remus z rezerwą, w sposób, jakby mówił sam do siebie. — Nie będzie mnie tylko przez trzy tygodnie — zapewnia Harry. — Hermiona ma termin na pierwszego sierpnia, a tego nie mogę przegapić. Oczy Remusa rozwierają się szerzej i uśmiecha się niewymuszenie, co wywołuje ciepłe uczucie w piersi Harry’ego. A może to tylko herbata. — Ach, tak. Prawie zapomniałem — mówi, a w jego głosie słychać entuzjazm. — Muszę pamiętać, by wysłać jej i George’owi coś ładnego dla dziecka. — Tylko nic plastikowego — przestrzega Harry, uśmiechając się. — Na widok tego paskudztwa Hermiona dostaje ataku szału. Powiedziała, że nie będzie tolerować go w domu. Ubzdurała sobie, że niemowlaki połykają i duszą się tylko rzeczami z plastiku. Remus uśmiecha się łagodnie i odchyla na krześle, zakładając nogę na nogę. — Wszystkie matki przechodzą przez okres paranoi. Nie martwiłbym się o to. — Odstawia filiżankę na stół i odkasłuje. — Wracając do tematu. Co z pieniędzmi? — Oddaję wszystkie — odpowiada Harry natychmiast. — Głównym założeniem jest odwiedzenie jak największej ilości zaniedbanych, ubogich miasteczek i rozdanie całej sumy. Remus kiwa powoli głową, ale nie potrafi określić, czy aprobuje pomysł. — Nie wiem, czy to będzie możliwe, Harry. Masz ich bardzo dużo — stwierdza rozbawiony, więc Harry czuje się podniesiony na duchu. Uśmiechając się przebiegle, upija ostatni łyk herbaty i dorzuca: — Po prostu będę rozdawał więcej. Częściej. Beztroska chwili już jednak minęła i Remus patrzy na niego poważnie. — Myślę, Harry, że kiedy już się tam znajdziesz, będzie to o wiele bardziej skomplikowane, niż oczekiwałeś. Suma pieniędzy, która według ciebie nie jest duża, może zupełnie zmienić sytuację innych. Mówimy tu o zabawie w Boga z ludzkim życiem. Nawiązanie do mugolskiej religii uderza Harry’ego, ale szybko się otrząsa. — To nie tak. Różnie może się wydawać, ale wiesz, że to nie jest moja intencja. Ja po prostu... — Wzdycha. — Chcę być pewien, że pieniądze trafią w dobre ręce. Spojrzenie Remusa jest pełne zwątpienia, ale nie kontynuuje tematu. * Pierwszym miejscem, w jakie zabiera ich Harry, jest wiejska okolica południowej Ugandy, której teren niemal w całości kształtują góry i lasy tropikalne, a horyzont to zielona, postrzępiona linia, wyraźnie odcięta od błękitnego nieba. Wydaje się, że powietrze tutaj zawsze pachnie deszczem, choć Harry nie widzi jego śladu w postaci chmur na niebie i wątpi, by kiedykolwiek tu padało. — Dokąd jedziemy? — pyta Draco, przeszukując schowek na desce rozdzielczej ich Beemera ze zdrapanym lakierem i dachem, który się nie zamyka. Otwiera drzwiczki i zaskakuje go sterta map i broszur, które wypadają mu na kolana. — To coś jest groźne! — krzyczy. Harry wyszczerza zęby w uśmiechu. — Jedziemy do pierwszej ludzkiej osady na południu, na jaką natrafimy. Nie wiem dokładnie. Mężczyzna wręczający Harry’emu kluczyki do samochodu ostrzegał ich, że północna Uganda jest niebezpieczna i przesycona napadami rebeliantów na ludność cywilną, więc pierwsze, co Harry zrobił po wręczeniu mu pakunku z pieniędzmi o wartości około dwustu pięćdziesięciu tysięcy euro (wyraz twarzy tubylca, kiedy dotknął banknotów był idealny, taki, o jakim Harry marzył), to zakupienie kompasu i trzymanie się z daleka od tych okolic. Wywnioskował, że jeśli nie pojadą dalej na północ od miejsca, w którym znajdują się teraz, bądź nie zagłębią w tereny Kongo, przed którym został ostrzeżony wcześniej, wszystko powinno być w porządku. Draco wywraca oczami i upycha papiery z powrotem do schowka. — Brzmi dokładnie tak, jakbyś wiedział, co robisz, panie Yorkershire. Harry zerka w jego stronę. — Że co? — Minister Yorkershire, był, no wiesz... — Draco posyła mu szybkie spojrzenie, a on w odpowiedzi wzrusza ramionami. — Nieważne, długo by wyjaśniać. — Przenosi wzrok na widok za oknem i dla Harry’ego jego odbicie na szybie wygląda jak coś płaskiego i białego zamiast namacalnego i prawdziwego, jakby jego postać utonęła w szkle. — Czarodziejem półkrwi — mamrocze Draco pod nosem, a Harry ledwo to wyłapuje. — Co powiedziałeś? Odwraca się do niego, ale Draco nie odwzajemnia spojrzenia. Bawi się ostatnim guzikiem koszuli i odmawia odpowiedzi. Harry jest zadowolony, że skończyli rozmawiać. Przedzierają się przez afrykańskie wzgórza i nietknięte przez człowieka równiny i czuje, że kłótnia, a nawet zwyczajna rozmowa tutaj, w obecności tej naturalnej prostoty, byłaby niewłaściwa. Wiatr wpadający przez szyberdach jest chłodny i wilgotny. Harry odczuwa wdzięczność za ulgę od gorąca. Drogi za miastem nie pokrywa już asfalt, ale gruba warstwa gliny o kolorze dyniowego ciasta. Promienie słońca oślepiają i jednocześnie wygładzają tętniące życiem otoczenie: zielone stepy, pokryte lasami góry i szafirowe niebo. Od wyrazistości obrazu bolą go oczy, a kiedy zamyka powieki, wciąż widzi czerwono-pomarańczowe negatywy. Chce odrzucić głowę do tyłu i śmiać się, i zapytać Draco, czy czuje to samo, co on, to mrowienie w kościach. Zanim jednak ma szansę to zrobić, kiedy przejeżdżają przez wzgórze, w oddali dostrzega małą chatkę, a potem kolejną i kolejną. Wyszczerza się do Draco, który znów na niego patrzy. — Znaleźliśmy — mówi, niezdolny do powstrzymania ekscytacji. Draco kiwa głową i obserwuje szybko zbliżajace się domostwa. — Przygotowałeś pieniądze? — pyta. Harry czuje ciążar ugandańskich pieniędzy w kieszeni koszuli, a także w lewym bucie i ostatniej szlufce spodni (podzielił je, w razie gdyby coś się stało). — Są bardziej niż gotowe. Kiedy parkuje pośrodku małej wioski składającej się z pięciu czy sześciu identycznych słomianych szałasów, rozrzuconych po glinianym terenie, czuje, jak świerzbią go palce. Obok nich tłoczy się grupka kilku kobiet. Wszystkie mają długie szyje i wyprostowane plecy, i przyglądają im się z zaciekawieniem. Uśmiecha się szeroko i zatrzymawszy samochód, otwiera drzwi. Draco łapie go za ramię. — Wysiadasz? Harry zerka na zaciskającą się na podwiniętym, pomiętymrękawie dłoń, a potem obrzuca go zdziwionym spojrzeniem. — Oczywiście. Draco ściska go jeszcze mocniej. — Może mógłbyś dać im pieniądze przez okno, siedząc w aucie o przyzwoitym przyspieszeniu, gdyby chcieli, no wiesz... — zamaszyście przecina ręką powietrze — cię zadźgać. Harry prycha. — To kobiety, Draco. Nie sądzę, by trzymały przy sobie rodzinne maczety. — Wzrusza ramionami i dodaje: — Znowu grzebałeś w mojej kolekcji mugolskich filmów, co? Draco zapada się w siedzeniu. — Wcale że nie. Harry zostawia otwarte drzwi po stronie kierowcy, po czym podchodzi do kobiet z dłońmi uniesionymi w powietrzu i, jak ma nadzieję, sygnalizującym pokojowe zamiary uśmiechem. One odpowiadają mu tym samym i spoglądają po sobie, podśmiewując się niskim, głębokim tonem. Jedna z nich robi krok w jego stronę i z akcentem podobnym do pracowniczki lotniska, choć nieco innym, wita go głośno: — Witaj! Jak ty się masz? Harry czuje się jak kompletny dupek i niemal widzi, jak Draco wykrzywia pokpiewająco wargi tak samo jak kiedyś, w Hogwarcie. Opuszcza dłonie i uśmiecha się szeroko z ulgi i podekscytowania, bo to naprawdę się dzieje, naprawdę tutaj jest. Podchodzi do kobiet, które bez wyjątku odpowiadają uśmiechem, a równocześnie dzielą pomiędzy sobą jakiś żart, którego Harry nie jest częścią i niekoniecznie chce nią być, bo to w jakiś sposób zniszczyłoby moment, ograbiło je z oplecionego wokół nich sekretu. Tego woli uniknąć, sądzi, że są perfekcyjne takie, jakie widzi je teraz, pośrodku zielonego, ugandańskiego stepu: ciemne, tajemnicze i piękne, z błyszczącymi, obserwującymi go zuchwale oczami. — Witaj — odpowiada z entuzjazmem. — Mówisz po angielsku? — Ja mówić trochę — odpowiada kobieta, nadal się uśmiechając, a Harry stwierdza w duchu, że nigdy nie będzie w stanie zdusić podziwu nad ich białymi, prostymi, idealnymi zębami. Jej głowa opleciona jest długim, różnokolorowym szalem w czerwono-pomarańczowo-bursztynowy paisley, miękkim i czystym, którego koniec opada na plecy. Oczy ma wielkie i lekko skośne, ciemniejsze niż onyks. Nosi letnią sukienkę do kostek, zawiązaną na szyi i pozostawiającą nagie ręce i ramiona. Delikatny wietrzyk trzepocze jej połami i, jak szacuje Harry, prawdopodobnie zrobiono ją z tej samego materiału co szal. Pozostałe kobiety noszą podobne ubrania. Na biodrach podtrzymują duże, drewniane naczynia, w których znajduje się jakaś szara papka. Są nieskazitelne, a to jest niebo, myśli Harry i zakochuje sie w niej w tej samej chwili, zakochuje się w nich wszystkich. Wyciąga dłoń. — Harry Potter, miło cię poznać. Kobieta przygląda się beznamiętnie jego ręce, a potem odwraca się, napotykając równie beznamiętne spojrzenie jednej z towarzyszek. Kiedy znowu na niego spogląda, marszczy brwi, a jej wysokie czoło przecina pojedynczna zmarszczka. Harry odsuwa dłoń i wskazuje na siebie wymownie. — Ha-rr-y Po-tter — mówi, przywiązując uwagę do każdej sylaby. Wyraz twarzy kobiety natychmiast się zmienia, odrzuca głowę do tyłu i unosi lekko wolne ramię. — Oooch — odpowiada, układając usta w idealne koło. Wskazuje na siebie i dodaje powoli: — Kway-er-a. Harry’ego zaczyna boleć szczęka od szczerzenia się w uśmiechu, ale nie sądzi, by mógł kiedykolwiek przestać, bo to jest sto razy lepsze niż myślał, niż planował. — Miło cię poznać — oznajmia. — Miło cię poznać — powtarza kobieta. Wypowiedziane słowa są zdeformowane jej akcentem i przeistoczone w coś, tak przynajmniej sądzi Harry, znacznie bardziej szczerego. Harry czuje, że nikt nie był tak szczęśliwy poznając go, jak kobiety, które stoją przed nimi z naczyniami opartymi o biodra, jak Kwayera. Nagle przypomina sobie o pieniądzach, a jego dłoń instynktownie wędruje w górę na kieszeń koszuli. Pragnie je podarować, ale waha się, bo nigdy wcześniej tego nie robił, nie poznawał obdarowywanej osoby, nie zatrzymywał się i nie rozmawiał, nie znał jej imienia, nie widział, jak żyje, i nie jest pewien, jak to rozegrać. Czy ma po prostu wręczyć banknoty, czy najpierw się wytłumaczyć? Kwayera mówi trochę po angielsku, ale skoro przedstawienie się zabrało im tyle czasu, nie wie, czy starczy mu go na moralne uzasadnienia. W pewnej chwili zmienia zdanie. Chce im dać coś więcej niż pieniądze. Chce im dać wszystko to, czego kiedykolwiek pragnęły, szczęście i miłość, i zdrowie, i absolutnie wszystko, ale... Wyglądają, jakby już je miały, stwierdza Harry. Nie może podarować tej kobiecie czegoś tak nędznego i nieznaczącego jak pieniądze, kiedy wszystkie one są bogate w każdy inny sposób. Nigdy o nic nie prosiły. Gdyby teraz sypnął im banknotami, tylko by je uraził. Splamiłoby to wszystko, co między nimi zaszło, między nim a Kwayerą. Oduwa rękę od kieszeni koszuli i uśmiecha się po raz ostatni, po czym żegna się i powraca do samochodu. Siada za kierownicą. Czuje, że Draco przygląda mu się, kiedy zapina pas bezpieczeństwa. — Co się stało? Harry przesuwa dłonią po kierownicy. — Nie mogłem tego zrobić. — Wzdycha. Draco nie odpowiada. Przejeżdżają przez niewielką wioskę, mijając po drodze obserwujące ich, uśmiechające się kobiety. Kwayera macha do Harry’ego, który słyszy przez otwarty szyberdach jej cichnący w miarę oddalania głos: — Miło cię poznać! * — Tu jesteśmy bliżej nieba — mówi pewnego razu Harry do Draco. Znajdują się gdzieś na południu, bliżej wody, gdzie powietrze jest chłodniejsze, a niebo bardziej niebieskie. Białe chmury osiągają olbrzymie rozmiary i ma się wrażenie, że można dotknąć ich ręką, jeśli tylko stanie się na czubkach palców i wyciągnie ją ku górze. Harry muska dłonią wewnętrzną stronę ramienia Draco, pozostawiając na nim wspomnienie dotyku w postaci gęsiej skórki. — Widzisz, jak blisko nas jest? Przed śmiercią nigdy nie będziemy tak blisko, jak teraz. Ale Draco nie rozumie, Draco nie wie nic o niebie ani o świętości, sądzi raczej, że dusza powinna być bardziej silna niż czysta. Część Harry’ego zdaje sobie sprawę, że nie jest w stanie mu tego wybaczyć, mimo iż sam nigdy nie uważał się za religijnego i nigdy nie wierzył w Boga. * Harry rozdaje w Ugandzie sumę pięciuset tysięcy euro, co było liczbą mniejszą niż zamierzona, ale i tak satysfakcjonującą z powodu wyrazu twarzy Draco, kiedy powiedział mu, ile pieniędzy właśnie oddał. Drugiego dnia jadą na południe i znajdują jedynie farmę z kozami i wysokimi hybrydami, czymś pomiędzy strusiem a psem. Harry jest zaskoczony, bo zawsze uważał, że zwierzęta tutaj są dzikie i egzotyczne, jak lwy, zebry czy żyrafy, choć tych jeszcze nie widział, ale Draco zapewnia, że natkną się na nie prędzej czy później. W końcu to Afryka. Ponieważ nie dostrzegli nikogo, komu mogliby podarować pieniądze, a byłby to dzień zmarnowany, gdyby nie pozbyli się choć małej sumy, Harry wpada na pomysł, by powkładać banknoty do kopert i przykleić je taśmą do zwierząt. Wyjaśnia sobie, że kiedyś do kogoś trafią, przyczepione do krowy czy kozy i że będzie to dobry człowiek, prawdopodobnie stary, ciężko pracujący farmer, który ma więcej dzieci i żon, niż może utrzymać. Gdy to sugeruje, Draco wzrusza ramionami, co Harry uznaje za zgodę. Odnajdują taśmę w bagażniku (Harry nie chce zastanawiać się zbyt głęboko, co w wypożyczonym przez nich samochodzie robi taśma do przewodów), a koperty muszą wykonać sami, bo zapomniał zaklęcia transmutującego w coś tak bezużytecznego jak koperta (a przynajmniej tak myślał). Używają papieru znalezionego w schowku. Harry uczy Draco robić koperty. Mówi mu, że umiejętność tę zdobył w mugolskiej szkole, na co Malfoy odpowiada złośliwym komentarzem na temat jego dzieciństwa. Potem rozcina sobie palec krawędzią papieru i Harry śmieje się z ironii losu. Z racji tego, że obudzili się za późno, trzeciego dnia nie mają szansy zrobić zbyt wiele, ale nic straconego — Harry oddaje całą przewidzianą sumę stu sześćdziesięciu tysięcy euro chłopcu, który pomaga im nosić torby z hotelowego przedsionka do wypożyczonego samochodu, ponieważ robi to bez pytania, a po skończonej pracy nie wyciąga ręki po zapłatę. Później, w samolocie, kiedy zachodzące afrykańskie słońce wdziera się przez okno i sprawia, że kabina lśni złotem, Draco odwraca się do niego, uśmiecha i mówi coś, o czym Harry teraz zapomniał, bo jego uśmiech był tak intymny, delikatny i inny od tych, które wcześniej widział. Nie może zdecydować, które z uczuć lubi bardziej: satysfakcję z tego, że uchronił tak wielu dobrych ludzi przed ubóstwem i zagwarantował możliwości, których dotychczas nie posiadali, czy sposób, w jaki zacisnęło mu się gardło, kiedy Draco obdarzył go uśmiechem. Harry wie, że to on był jego powodem. * — Dlaczego to robisz? — pyta go Draco zmęczonym głosem. — Nigdy nie pozbędziesz się pieniędzy. Kiedy tylko wrócisz do domu, Harry, będzie na ciebie czekało kolejne dziesięć czeków, honorarium za umowy z wydawnictwem i zapłata za patenty. — Dziś nie wieje wiatr. Powietrze jest nieruchome, ciepłe, miękko otulające ciało. — Czeki od fabryk cukierniczych, sklepów z zabawkami i Merlin wie skąd jeszcze, za prawo do używania twojego imienia i wizerunku, żeby mogli sprzedawać te swoje śmieci. — Z ust Draco uchodzi niespieszne westchnienie. Brzmi, jakby był wyczerpany. Pokonany. Harry zastanawia się, czy to Afryka wywołała w nich to ołowiane znużenie, czy może zawsze tacy byli? — Nie sądzę, byś robił to dla nich, Harry. Wiem, że lubisz bawić się w zbawiciela. — Przerywa na chwilę, a na jego ustach rozkwita pełen zamyślenia, prywatny uśmiech. — I jeśli dobrze pamiętam, zawsze za bardzo kochałeś swojego białego rumaka. — Waha się. Pospiesznie oblizuje usta, zanim kontynuuje: — Tak czy siak, chyba nie robisz tego dla nich, tylko dla swojego własnego wybawienia. Czekasz, aż ci ludzie cię ocalą. — Znowu wzdycha. — Ale oni nie mogą tego zrobić, Harry. Draco patrzy na niego i robi krok do przodu, kładzie dłoń na piersi Harry’ego, pomiędzy obojczykamiwyglądającymi spod na wpół rozpiętej koszuli. Opuszki palców muskają zagłębienie szyi. Opalona skóra jest ciepła, ale nie gorąca jak wszystko dookoła. Harry wie, że ludzkie serce nie znajduje się idealnie na środku klatki piersiowej, tylko trochę niżej, bardziej po lewej. To fakt biologiczny, jednak nagle zaczyna w niego wątpić, czuje zupełnie inaczej. Dotyka dolnej części pleców Draco i zastanawia się, czym tak naprawdę jest odkupienie i czy to mogłoby być jego. * Po Ugandzie zatrzymują się na dwa dni w Senegalu, a potem na trzy w Zambii. Harry rozdaje prawie milion euro. Nigdy nie czuł się tak bogaty. Podarowuje ponad trzydzieści tysięcy starej, niewidomej kobiecie, której kościste ręce są ciepłe, kiedy ściska dłonie Harry’ego i szepcze: „Dziękuję, dziękuję, dziękuję...”, zamykając oczy i odchylając głowę w kierunku nieba. Pewien mężczyzna zapewnia, że odda mu pożyczoną kwotę i zaprasza ich do swojego domu na kawę. Nie piją jej, ale gospodarz nie zauważa, zamiast tego mówi przez długie godziny, ponieważ dobrze posługuje się językiem angielskim i interesuje piłką nożną. Harry wybucha śmiechem, gdy Draco przyłącza się do rozmowy, bo zdaje się tworzyć własną odmianę języka do porozumiewania z tubylcami. — A czy ty widzieć jakiś mecz tutaj? — pyta głośno, na co mężczyzna spogląda na niego promiennie i uśmiecha się, a Harry śmieje się jeszcze mocniej. Czuje się zadowolony. Szczęśliwy. Kiedy tej nocy idzie spać, nie jest sam. Ramionami oplata Draco, którego twarz spoczywa w zagłębieniu szyi Harry’ego, wdychając jego zapach, upał i Afrykę. * W dzień przed tym, kiedy Gregory Goyle ma przyjąć pocałunek, Draco pyta Harry’ego, czy mógłby być przy tym obecny, skoro byli starymi przyjaciółmi, a poza tym nie chce, by Greg umarł otoczony jedynie przez ludzi, którzy go nienawidzą, którzy szeptali do niego, gdy przechodził w niewidzialnych kajdanach, że wyrok jest dla niego za łagodny, którzy znajdowali się tam tylko z powodu „sprawiedliwości” (słowo to wypowiedział jedynie z lekkim uśmieszkiem). To pierwszy raz, gdy Draco prosi go o cokolwiek od czasu skazania. Harry rozważa zgodę. Z drugiej strony, bierze pod uwagę ludzi, którzy pojawią się na egzekucji: rodziny tych, których Goyle zabił, najwyżej postawieni obywatele czarodziejskiej społeczności, minister... lista się wydłuża. Prasa również będzie na miejscu ze swoimi zaczarowanymi piórami i urządzeniami do zapisywania głosu, a następnego dnia na pierwszej stronie gazety będzie widniało pewnie zdjęcie Harry’ego i Draco, uciekających z sali rozpraw; jego kurtka okrywałaby blond włosy, a okrzyki oburzenia goniłyby ich przez cały korytarz. Harry już widzi nagłówek. Wyglądałby w ten sposób: MALFOY NADUŻYWA DOBREJ WOLI TEGO, KTORY PRZEŻYŁ; ROZWŚCIECZA WSZYSTKICH ZEBRANYCH Draco Malfoy manifestuje swoje nadal trwające przymierze z Chłopcem, Którego Imienia Nie Wolno Wymawiać, pojawiając się na egzekucji pocałunku znajomego śmierciożercy. Harry nie chce, by Draco przez to przechodził, chce go chronić w najlepszy sposób, jaki tylko jest możliwy. Oznajmia mu więc, że nie może iść, bo gdyby się pokazał, wyglądałoby to źle ze względu na innych uczestników i na to, kim był Greg, a szczególnie na to, kim był Draco. Harry dodaje, że nigdy nie powinien zapomnieć o swoim miejscu w nowym świecie, gdzie czystość krwi stanowi ekwiwalent porażki, że jego czas jest pożyczony, że żyje na łasce innych i z pewnością rozumie, prawda? Draco odwraca wzrok i mówi, że rozumie. * Harry śni o wszystkich ludziach, których uratował w Afryce. Każdy z nich wspina się na jedną z zielonych ugandańskich gór, żeby się do niego dostać. On sam siedzi na najwyższym szczycie, z którego może wszystko zobaczyć, z tego punktu widzi cały świat. Ludzie składają dłonie jak do modlitwy, przesiąknięci deszczem, choć słońce otacza ich ciepłymi promieniami. Harry czuje je na karku. Afrykanie wspinają się najszybciej jak potrafią, ale wierzchołek nieustannie pnie się ku górze, zbocze staje się coraz bardziej pochyłe, a kiedy jest niemal pionowe, wczepiają ręce w ziemię i korzenie i wspinają się dalej, zbliżają do Harry’ego, ale nagle góra przeistacza się w piasek i przedziera się przez palce niczym woda, i ludzie spadają w dół, i Harry panikuje, sięga ku nim, i... Łapie ich wszystkich jedną ręką. Teraz są tacy mali, wyglądają na tak kruchych, ale to dobrze, w porządku, bo są bezpieczni, bo on był tam, by móc ich złapać. Starają mu się podziękować i nazywają go swoim wybawicielem, ale słowa nie znaczą tego, co powinny, mówią o czymś złym i paskudnym, co znieważa i rani Harry’ego. Nagle wszyscy stają się niemowami, upadają na kolana i stapiają ze słońcem. Harry budzi się spocony, oddychając ciężko, nie będąc w stanie odegnać uczucia niepokoju. * — Nie wiem, dlaczego tak bardzo podoba ci się to miejsce — mówi mu Draco któregoś dnia. Harry nie rozumie, sądzi, że to oczywiste i tak mu odpowiada, rysując na jego plecach małe kółka, uśmiechając się w zagłębienie jego szyi. — Tutaj nic nie ma — dodaje Draco. Harry uświadamia sobie, że jego towarzysz dostrzega niewłaściwe rzeczy, zwraca uwagę na to, czego nie ma, zamiast na to, co jest dotykalne — pod jego stopami, nad głową i wszędzie wokół, i kto tuli go do siebie, ogrzewa jego skórę. Draco zupełnie nic nie rozumie. * Gdy docierają do Gwinei, trwa właśnie sezon monsunowy. Niebo przybiera barwę ołowiu i wydaje się równie ciężkie, pofałdowane grubymi, deszczowymi chmurami. Harry myśli, że dosięgają do stratosfery, aż do jej zewnętrznych warstw. Odbierają swój wynajęty samochód, jeepa z napędem na cztery koła i wielkimi oponami, a potem meldują się w hotelu. Draco mówi Harry’emu, że chce zostać, a nie wychodzić na deszcz, szukając biednych ludzi, jadąc w jeepie z rozsuwanymi oknami i dachem z brezentu, ale dostaje odpowiedź, że nie ma wyboru. Sprzeczka jest krótka. Wyjeżdżają po obiedzie i zmierzają na wschód w kierunku Wybrzeża Kości Słoniowej. Harry słyszał o tym kraju i sądzi, że będzie tam dużo, naprawdę dużo ludzi, którzy potrzebują jego pomocy. Ma wrażenie, że pieniądze palą mu się w dłoniach i musi pozbyć się ich najszybciej, jak to możliwe, musi przekazać je komuś innemu. Oddaje piętnaście tysięcy euro mężczyźnie na stacji benzynowej tylko dlatego, że nie chce mieć ich dłużej przy sobie, pragnie, by zniknęły. Po prostu kładzie wilgotną stertę bankontów na ladzie i odchodzi, nie poczekawszy na podziękowanie. Mijając przedpotopową, zaniedbaną ciężarówkę, wrzuca kolejne dwadzieścia tysięcy na siedzenie, a kierowca — stary tubylec z siwymi włosami i drżącymi dłońmi — napełnia bak i nawet go nie zauważa. Gdy odjeżdżają, Harry chce zerknąć na wsteczne lusterko i zobaczyć, jak zareaguje mężczyzna, kiedy otworzy drzwiczki i odkryje pieniądze. Nie robi tego i nie jest pewien, dlaczego. Podczas jazdy deszcz nieprzerwanie pada na przednią szybę, a samochód niemal płynie po drodze. Wycieraczki skrzypią za każdym zamachnięciem. Harry jest podminowany i zaniepokojony, a od Draco z siedzenia pasażera bije podobna aura. Niektóre z dróg i mostów są podmyte, więc podąża za kierunkowskazami, póki nie traci orientacji i zapomina, skąd przyjechał. Wszystko tutaj wygląda tak samo, strome, zielone zbocza gór, ciemne chmury i deszcz lejący jak z cebra. Zaciska mocniej dłonie na kierownicy. Zgubili się. W Gwinei, w środku sezonu monsunowego, w przeciekającym jeepie z cholernymi rozsuwanymi oknami. Zagubieni. — Zabłądziliśmy, prawda? — pyta Draco. Musi podnieść głos, żeby Harry go usłyszał, bo dudnienie ulewy o dach i skrzypienie wycieraczek jest niemal ogłuszające. — Nie — kłamie. Draco pokazuje coś za oknem. — Trzeci raz mijamy ten znak. Harry mruży oczy. — Wszystkie znaki są takie same, Draco. To tylko strzałka na pomarańczowym tle. — Stara się utrzymać spokojny ton głosu. — Ale jeśli wciąż mijamy ten, ktory każe nam skręcać w prawo, to znaczy, że kręcimy się w kółko — odpowiada Draco stanowczo, z czającym się cieniem drwiny, ale to wystarcza. Harry z impetem uderza pięścią w kierownicę. — Do diabła, Draco, możesz się zamknąć? Zgubiliśmy się, dobra? W pieprzonej Afryce, ale nie znajdę drogi, jeśli będziesz ględzić mi nad uchem o jakichś znakach. — Cóż, wszystkie ignorujesz — zauważa Draco, nadal mówiąc podniesionym głosem. — O czym ty mówisz? Podążam za każdym z nich! Draco wywraca oczami. — Pomyśl przez chwilę trochę bardziej kreatywnie, Harry. Nie miałem na myśli dosłownych znaków drogowych, ale wszystkie, które otrzymaliśmy od czasu przybycia do Afryki. — Patrzy na Harry’ego. Jego tęczówki są pociemniałe i szare, dokładnie jak deszczowe chmury na niebie. — Nie powinno nas tu być. Harry prycha. — Och, masz na myśli te metaforyczne, nienamacalne znaki? Jak radość na twarzach ludzi, kiedy wręczam im pieniądze, czy może ich płacz i całowanie mnie po rękach? — Nie, Harry, mam na myśli to, że zaczynasz się od tego uzależniać — stwierdza Draco, odwracając się w jego stronę. — To, w jaki sposób używasz pieniędzy, myśląc, że czynisz życie tych ludzi lepszym. Ale to nie jest w porządku. — Myśląc, że czynię życie tych ludzi lepszym? Draco, tak właśnie jest. — Pieniądze... — zaczyna, ale Harry mu przerywa. — To wszystko, co mam! — wybucha sfrustrowany. — Jeśli byłoby cokolwiek innego, Draco, cokolwiek na świecie, co mógłbym oddać, zrobiłbym to bez mrugnięcia okiem. — Wszystko, co masz? — powtarza Draco z niedowierzaniem. — A więc zapomniałeś o magicznej różdżce, którą chowasz w kieszeni? Harry śmieje się gorzko. — Sądzisz, że nie chcę używać magii? Że się nad tym nie zastanawiałem? Że prawie to zrobiłem? Ale to byłoby nieprawdziwe. Magia to szybkie, natychmiastowe rozwiązanie. Dałaby ludziom złudną nadzieję na coś większego, czego już nigdy więcej nie spotkają. Draco przygląda mu się uważnie. — Ale zwykła wizyta i rzucanie im pieniędzy pod nogi nie jest szybkim rozwiązaniem? — W samochodzie na moment zalega cisza, słychać jedynie deszcz, wycieraczki i piasek trzeszczący pod kołami. — I jakie to ma znaczenie? — kontynuuje Draco. — I tak nie jesteś zainteresowany tym, co się z nimi stanie, jak odejdziesz i już się nimi nasycisz. Wykorzystujesz ich wdzięczność jako coś, co przywróci cię do życia, co wypełni w tobie lukę. — Mówisz, że uczucie radości, kiedy im pomagam, jest złe? — pyta Harry pełen niedowierzania. — Jest, jeśli robisz to tylko dla tego uczucia. Nie pomagasz dlatego, że zaszła taka potrzeba, Harry. Nie ma w tobie wielkiego dobra, które przywiodło cię właśnie w to miejsce. Jesteś taki sam jak wszyscy inni, tyle że z blizną na swoim zakutym łbie. — Głos Draco jest chłodny. — Bawisz się w zbawiciela, żeby się nim poczuć, jedynie dla podekscytowania, bo ludzie karmili cię tym przez całe życie. Chłopiec, Który Przeżył, nasz wybawca w okularach i czym tam jeszcze, i nie wiesz, co teraz robić, kiedy z zakończeniem wojny o twoim przydomku zaczyna się zapominać. Wykorzystujesz ich, Harry, żeby móc wciąż być bohaterem, czuć adrenalinę. W ten sposób pomaganie staje na równi z narkotykiem. — Nieważne — zbywa go Harry. — Staram się ocalić ludzi i nie oczekuję, że to zrozumiesz. — Posyła mu pokpiewający uśmiech. — Byłeś śmierciożercą z krwi i kości. — Patrzy na Draco surowo. — Wiem o tym. A rzeczy, które o tobie słyszałem… Byłeś śmieciem, który zabił wszystkich dobrych ludzi podczas wojny, wszystkich moich ludzi, i nie spodziewam się, że będziesz w stanie pojąć coś tak prostego jak ludzka przyzwoitość. — Ludzka przyzwoitość? — powtarza Draco. — Ludzka przyzwoitość? Ty też zabijałeś ludzi, Harry, ludzi posiadających rodziny, mężów i żony, mających serce tak samo, jak ci dobrzy, których nazywasz swoimi. — WIEM! — Napięcie we wnętrzu Harry’ego w końcu znajduje ujście. — Myślisz, że nie staram się, najlepiej jak mogę, płacić za to każdego pieprzonego dnia?! Deszcz nadal pada. Wycieraczki poskrzypująrytmicznie. Harry wzdycha głęboko i spogląda na Draco, który obserwuje go cały czas szarymi, naznaczonymi smutkiem oczami. Czuje, jak gniew powoli odpływa w ten sam sposób, co deszcz ześlizgujący się z przedniej szyby pod wpływem wiatru. Przenosi wzrok z powrotem na drogę i jest przekonany, że niezaprzeczalnie się zgubili. Draco sięga po jego dłoń ściskającą kierownicę i zamyka ją w swojej. Całuje knykcie i wzdycha tuż przy skórze. Harry ma kłopoty z oddychaniem. — To była wojna, Harry — mówi łagodnie. — Ona zawsze ma dwie strony. Harry zerka na niego i kiwa głową, i wie, że Draco ma rację, naprawdę. Ale to niczego nie zmienia, wszystko pozostaje takie, jak było wcześniej. * Pewnej nocy leżą w hotelowym pokoju, splątani razem rękami i nogami w sposób, który wcale nie jest taki poplątany, lecz zaaranżowany z ostrożnością i starannością. Harry przyciska wargi do szczęki Draco. — Nie mam pojęcia, jak ludzie to robią. Jak żyją w ten sposób — mówi w zamyśleniu. Przez chwilę spowija ich cisza, a światło księżyca rozlewa się na ścianach i u stóp łóżka jasnymi plamami, rozświetlając pokój łagodnym srebrem. — Byłbyś zdziwiony, z czym ludzie potrafią sobie poradzić — odpowiada Draco, wyswobodzając się z objęć. — Z czym nauczyli się żyć. Harry patrzy mu w oczy, ale te ukryte są w cieniu, więc nie ma pojęcia, o czym Draco mógł myśleć. Przekręca się na bok i podciąga kołdrę na ramiona. Nie śpi przez resztę nocy, ponieważ odpowiedź Draco pozostawia w nim niepokój. Słowa zdawały się brzmieć zbyt osobiście, zbyt boleśnie. * Zagubienie się w Gwinei nie jest takie straszne, jak później wnioskuje Harry. Po godzinie jazdy w kierunku — ma nadzieję — prawidłowym, deszcz nadal nie przestaje padać. Docierają do punktu stopu na szczycie jednej z mniejszych gór nieopodal urwiska i Harry zbacza z drogi, bo sądzi, że to idealne miejsce, najlepsze, jakie będą mieli okazję znaleźć. Wyjmuje z kieszeni, butów i innych skrytek większość pieniędzy, pozostawiając wystarczającą sumę, by oddać komuś, na kogo być może jeszcze się natkną, i pyta Draco, czy idzie z nim. Draco odpowiada, że nie. Harry odwraca wzrok na deszcz padający na trawę i wsiąkający w czarną ziemię, tworząc błoto. Pyta ponownie — bardzo prosi— czy Draco zrobi to razem z nim, a wtedy Malfoy się waha. Harry sądzi, że ta niechęć nie pojawia się tylko dlatego, iż nie chce zmoknąć. To nie cały powód, ale Draco w końcu się zgadza i uśmiecha, więc jego opór odchodzi w zapomnienie. Obaj wyskakują z jeepa i Harry biegnie w kierunku urwiska, ale zanim zdąży postawić pięć kroków i przypomnieć sobie, że pomocne byłyby zaklęcia osuszające, poślizguje się i upada. Śmieje się dziko z siebie i błota, które dostało się w zakamarki ubrań i we włosy, a potem, kiedy próbuje wstać, ponownie upada. Draco pomaga mu się podnieść, zaplatając ręce pod ramiona Harry’ego, przeklinając błoto, deszcz i Harry’ego. Przede wszystkim Harry’ego. Zatrzymują się na skraju i zerkają na siebie. Setki wodnych kropli wsiąkły w jasne kosmyki Draco, przylepiły je do czoła, policzków i karku, a jedna z nich wisi mu na rzęsach, upodabniając się do łzy. Jego skóra w poprzecinanym deszczem świetle dnia przybiera kolor porcelany. Harry pragnie go pocałować, desperacko i namiętnie, w środku afrykańskiej ulewy, na skraju urwiska. Niemal wyczuwa smak deszczu na jego wargach. Obaj są jednak utaplani w błocie, a Harry wie, że Draco nie chciałby mieć go na sobie więcej. Sam też nie za bardzo je lubi. Prawie-pocałunek okazuje się prawie-wystarczający. Nagle Harry odwraca się i wyrzuca wszystkie pieniądze poza krawędź urwiska, i wie, że mógłby robić tylko to, zrzucać pieniądze z gór, by zostały zdeptane przez zwierzęta i pokryte deszczem, zgubione na całe lata. A może nie. To jednak nie ma znaczenia, bo intencja pozostaje taka sama, skok z krawędzi w otchłań nieodłącznie wiąże się z ideą wolności i latania. Pieniądze jednak nie są wolne, nie wzlatują ku górze. W miejscu, w którym przewrócił się Harry, jest już mokro i błotniście i kiedy je wyrzuca, banknoty tworzą zlepek, który zatacza łuk w powietrzu i opada gwałtownie w dół, sponiewierany przez deszcz. Harry nienawidzi Gwinei i jest szczęśliwy, kiedy wsiadają na pokład samolotu. * Draco śpi, więc Harry’emu łatwiej jest mówić. — Całe życie zdaje mi się, że gdzie się nie znajdę, widzę tylko nicość albo sam ją tworzę. Ale to... — Jego dłonie zamierają w powietrzu tuż nad ramionami Draco. Tak desperacko chce go dotknąć, że uczucie staje się bolesne, pragnienie trawi kości. Powstrzymuje się jednak. Patrzy, jak pościel unosi się i opada równomiernie w rytm jego oddechu. — To jest coś dla mnie. Coś dobrego. Sprawia, że reszta staje się do zniesienia. Nie jest to może tym, co mieliśmy na myśli, ale sprawy rzadko idą tak, jakbyśmy tego chceli. — Harry splata swoje dłonie razem i ściska mocno, by być pewnym, że nie sięgnie w stronę leżącego obok ciała. — Nie ma żadnej przewidywalnej odpowiedzi na to, co uczyni nas szczęśliwym. * Po opuszczeniu Gwinei lecą na trzy dni do Kenii, a potem na następne trzy do Angoli. Harry zaczyna tracić rachubę, ile pieniędzy już oddał i ile konkretnie podarował każdej osobie. Pamięta za to kobietę z dzieckiem w ramionach, która patrzyła na niego z taką desperacją, że zawrócił się i oddał jej połowę tego, co miał przy sobie. Potem, dwie ulice dalej, dostrzegł kolejną kobietę z podobnym wyrazem twarzy, a kiedy spojrzała mu prosto w oczy i zaczęła błagać o pieniądze, Harry zdał sobie sprawę, że żebraczka trzyma w ramionach identyczne, pogrążone we śnie dziecko, opatulone w taki sam brudny kocyk. Przypomina sobie młodego mężczyznę, który wyładował ich bagaż na lotnisku i zbyt ochoczo wyciągnął dłoń. Obdarzył go nienawistnym spojrzeniem, gdy Harry wręczył mu jedynie zwyczajowy napiwek. Tubylec powiedział, że przy hotelu Harry dał jego bratu dużą sumę za włożenie ich bagażu do taksówki, więc wiedział, że ma pięniądze i z bardzo daleka przyszedł specjalnie po to, by pomóc z wyładowaniem. Dlaczego Harry nie dał mu więcej? Zaczyna żałować, że nie wyrzucił wszystkich pieniędzy nad urwiskiem. * Harry odsuwa się na bok i pozwala Malfoyowi wejść jako pierwszemu. Zamyka za nimi drzwi i patrzy na niego, ale Malfoy nie odwzajemnia spojrzenia. — Jesteśmy — mówi, wymijając Malfoya i rozkładając ręce. Harry jest dumny ze swojego mieszkania. Jest zwyczajne i przestronne, niezbyt wystawne, z drewnianymi podłogami. Czyste linie, stonowane kolory. Wygodne, ale stylowe. Każdy by je pokochał. — Co sądzisz? — pyta, a kiedy tylko słowa opuszczają jego usta, od razu ich żałuje. Przygotowuje się na najgorsze. Malfoy zaskakuje go, kiedy odpowiada skromnie: — Ładne. Harry waha się. — Dziękuję — odpowiada po chwili. Oprowadza Malfoya po mieszkaniu, co zajmuje im o wiele mniej czasu, niż prawdopodobnie zajęłoby zwiedzanie rodowej posiadłości Malfoyów, jak stara się żartować. To jednak nie wywołuje u jego towarzysza żadnej reakcji, który niezależnie od starań Harry’ego nie okazuje emocji, jakby wciąż przebywał w Azkabania. Harry pokazuje Malfoyowi pokój na końcu korytarza. — Ten będzie twój — oznajmia i otwiera drzwi. Malfoy rozgląda się przelotnie, po czym siada na skraju łóżka, a Harry czuje się nagle jak intruz we własnym domu, co uznaje za uczucie niepożądane, bo przecież to jego dom, jego pokój. Chciałby zaznaczyć swój autorytet przed Malfoyem i przypomnieć mu, że siedzi tutaj, w jego gościnnym pokoju, na pościeli z egipskiej bawełny zamiast w Azkabanie dzięki Harry’emu, bo to Harry go uratował, ale pełne wstydu oczy Malfoya błagają go, żeby tego nie robił i mówią, że on wie o tym więcej, niż Harry kiedykolwiek będzie wiedział. Wzdycha. Nie jest do końca pewien, dlaczego to robi, możliwości i przypuszczenia są nieskończone. Zanim wychodzi, postanawia dać Malfoyowi małe przypomnienie: — No to pięć lat. Kliknięcie zamykanych drzwi brzmi niczym zakończenie, metalowy trzask jako wyrok śmierci, ale Harry wie doskonale, że to dopiero początek. * Przylatują do Nigeru siedem dni po opuszczeniu Gwinei, a pierwszą rzeczą, jaką zauważa Harry jest to, że większość pracowników lotniska ma białą skórę, mówi z angielskim albo francuskim akcentem, a niemal wszyscy z nich są poparzeni słońcem. Kobieta, która pomaga im wynająć samochód, jest niskiego wzrostu i ma blond włosy, ciemne brwi i podwójny podbródek. Wyjaśnia Harry’emu, że firma przez przypadek wypożyczyła zarezerwowane przez niego auto komuś innemu, nie mogą nic w tym przypadku zrobić i wyraża swoje ubolewanie, a potem pyta, czy mogliby odsunąć się na bok, by mogła pomóc następnej osobie w kolejce. Harry chce stąd odlecieć, zanim jeszcze wychodzą poza lotnisko. Już mu się tutaj nie podoba. — Posłuchaj, to nic takiego — tłumaczy mu Draco, starając się go pocieszyć. — Zapłacimy komuś, żeby nas powoził. Tym sposobem będziemy mieli samochód i oddamy trochę pieniędzy. Dwie pieczenie na jednym ogniu. Harry nie ufa temu miejscu. Poważnie rozważa cofnięcie się na lotnisko i zakupienie biletów na następny odlatujący samolot, który zabierze ich gdzieś indziej, do innego afrykańskiego miasta, w którym ludzie potrzebują ich równie mocno. — Draco, nie jestem pewien... — Patrz, widzę jednego — kontynuuje Draco. — Wygląda na kogoś, komu można ufać. — Wskazuje palcem w miejsce po drugiej stronie ulicy, na stacji benzynowej, gdzie młody tubylec w bursztynowej koszulce turysty z Florydy opiera się o starą ciężarówkę, która niegdyś mogła mieć kolor biały, ale teraz większość farby się złuszczyła. Draco pospiesznie się rozgląda i przechodzi przez ulicę, wołając za Harrym: — Im szybciej pozbędziemy się pieniędzy, tym szybciej wrócimy! Zanim Harry’emu udaje się go dogonić, Draco jest już w trakcie negocjacji w tym swoim własnym, afrykańsko-angielskim języku z mężczyzną, ktory okazuje się być bardziej chłopcem, prawdopodobnie w wieku siedemnastu bądź osiemnastu lat. — Ty zawieźć nas za miasto w samochodzie, tak? — pyta Draco głośno, a jego uśmiech jest boleśnie fałszywy. Pochyla się w kierunku chłopca, jakby to pomagało mu w zrozumieniu. — Tak, tak — odpowiada tubylec. — Ja wieźć was. Wydaje się uradowany propozycją. Trzyma dłonie złożone przed sobą niczym małe dziecko proszące o cukierka i uśmiecha się szeroko, co sprawia, że jego uszy dziwacznie odstają. Czubek jego nosa i policzków pokrywają ciemne piegi, a skóra wygląda na świeżą i gładką. Tubylec zerka na Harry’ego, a jego dobry nastrój robi wrażenie tak szczerego, że Harry odpowiada mu uśmiechem. — Do miejsc, gdzie biedni żyją? — precyzuje Draco. Na stacji są też inni ludzie, turyści, jak wnioskuje Harry, sądząc po plecakach i przepaskach z daszkami na głowie. Przyglądają się Draco dziwnym wzrokiem. Chłopca ogarnia zakłopotanie. — Wierni? — pyta. Draco zamyśla się na chwilę. — Nie wierni, tylko biedni. Bez pieniędzy — wyjaśnia. — Nie mieć pieniędzy i żyć źle. Tubylec rozumie i zamaszyście kiwa głową. — Tak, tu mieszkać bardzo biedni ludzie. — Jak oni cię nazywać? — pyta Harry, zanim zdąży prawidłowo poukładać wyrazy w głowie. Draco uśmiecha się do niego złośliwie. Chłopiec uśmiecha się jeszcze szerzej, choć Harry myślał, że to niemożliwe. — Oni nazywać mnie Yerodin — odpowiada. — Yerodin — podejmuje Draco — my jechać teraz? Yerodin uśmiecha się i wyjmuje z kieszeni kluczyki do stacyjki. Z niezmienną miną wdrapuje się na siedzenie kierowcy i odpala silnik. Harry i Draco siadają z tyłu na platformie, która jak na taki stary samochód jest zaskakująco czysta i dostatecznie duża, by pomieścić ich obu i jeszcze jedną osobę. Moszczą się po przeciwnych końcach. Niger prawie w całości pokrywa czerwono-złota Sahara. Powierzchnię pustyni tworzy gruby i głęboki dywan piasku, a powietrze jest gorące i niewyobrażalnie suche; Harry nie oddychał takim nigdy wcześniej. Wyobraża sobie, że podobnie wygląda słońce, cały krajobraz usiany jest bursztynowo-pomarańczowymi plamami, a piaskowe wydmy suną tak daleko, jak okiem sięgnąć. Niebo rozciąga się nad nimi czystym, biało-błękitnym bezmiarem. Podmuchy wiatru są gorące i pieką Harry’ego w policzki oraz wargi, wysuszają usta. Nigdy nie chciał tak bardzo napić się wody. Sądzi, że jego gardło pokrył już piasek, bo jest on dosłownie wszędzie, w oczach, włosach i ustach. Wszędzie. Dłoń Draco nagle wsuwa się do dłoni Harry’ego, który odwraca głowę, by spojrzeć na niego poprzez zmrużone powieki. Draco mówi coś, czego Harry nie rozumie. Wiatr i piasek zabiera słowa, zanim docierają do jego uszu. — Co?! — Chcę wracać do domu! — powtarza Draco. Harry kiwa głową w porozumieniu i ujmuje jego dłoń w swoją pomimo faktu, że ich skóra przypomina w dotyku papier ścierny, wyschnięty i szorstki, a tarcie pomiędzy nimi jest niekomfortowe i drażniące. Harry wytrzymałby to jednak wieczność, gdyby Draco sobie tego życzył. Ciężarówka zaczyna zwalniać, a w końcu Harry może otworzyć oczy bez groźby burzy piaskowej zakrywającej całkowicie jego pole widzenia. Draco odsuwa swoją dłoń i odwraca głowę w kierunku celu ich podróży. Na wprost od nich znajduje się wioska, która jest większa, niż oczekiwał Harry, również od tych, które dotychczas odwiedził, z większą ilością chat, niż mógłby policzyć na oko. Musi zgadywać, ile ich jest, prawopodobnie od dwudziestu pięciu do trzydziestu pięciu. Kiedy ciężarówka podjeżdża bliżej, jego żołądek robi się ciężki. Draco wali pięścią w tylne okno i mówi Yerodinowi, żeby się zatrzymał, a wtedy Harry nagle dochodzi do siebie, ponieważ sądzi, że Malfoy powie ich kierowcy, by zawrócił. Myśli, że zażąda powrotu na lotnisko, gdzie kupią bilety do Nigerii, Zimbabwe czy gdziekolwiek indziej, zostawiając za sobą to miejsce, upalne powietrze i przeklęty piasek. Zamiast tego Draco odwraca się do niego i mówi: — Wszystko do twojej dyspozycji, Harry. — Przechodzi z platformy na siedzenie pasażera obok Yerodina. Drzwi zamykają się za nim z głośnym trzaskiem przerdzewiałego metalu, a Harry czuje, że cała nadzieja wypływa z niego wprost na pustynną powierzchnię. Ciężarówka toczy się do przodu i już niemal są na miejscu, kiedy ludzie zaczynają ich zauważać, iść w kierunku pojazdu. Harry wstaje powoli, dotykając kieszeni, by upewnić się, że pieniądze są gotowe, i mówi sobie, że wcale nie będzie tak źle, po prostu wręczy im banknoty, gdy będzie obok nich przechodził, a że mieszkańców jest dużo, pozbędzie się wszystkich pieniędzy w ciągu całego dnia. Jutro rano albo nawet dzisiaj wieczorem, jeśli zaistnieje taka możliwość, znajdą się w samolocie. Od celu dzieli ich jakieś pięćdziesiąt metrów, a niektórzy z tubylców zaczęli już biec w kierunku samochodu. Pierwszym, który do nich dociera, jest chłopiec, dziesięcio- lub jedenastoletni. Idzie obok nich, kiedy pojazd jeszcze się porusza, ubrany w podkoszulek bez rękawów i o jakieś pięć rozmiarów za duże spodnie khaki, przytrzymywane kawałkiem sznurka przełożonym przez szlufki. Wyciąga dłonie w kierunku Harry’ego i mówi coś w języku, którego Harry nie zna, ale rozumie pobrzmiewającą w głosie desperację, widzi jego ogromne oczy w kształcie migdałów i oddaje mu pierwszą z przygotowanych garści pieniędzy. Ulga na twarzy chłopca jest tak wielka, że Harry niemal w niej tonie. Potem pojawia się kolejny chłopiec, trochę starszy, może szesnastolatek, łapie Harry’ego za ramię i mówi coś z przymrużonymi oczami, co brzmi prawie jak oskarżenie; macha ręką w kierunku kieszeni w koszuli Harry’ego, z której wcześniej wyjmował banknoty. Harry posyła mu oziębłe spojrzenie i stara się odsunąć jego dłoń, ale chłopiec ma mocny uścisk, jest krzepki, silniejszy, niż był w jego wieku Harry czy Ron. Harry próbuje znowu go odepchnąć, szarpiąc się najmocniej, jak potrafi, a przy tym usiłuje uniknąć zwichnięcia barku, ale chłopiec trzyma się go mocno. Nagle czuje, że ktoś go ciągnie, zostaje szarpnięty do dołu, a oczy chłopca nagle stają się bardzo uważne i okrutne. Harry potyka się i niemal upada; zaczyna być świadomy dystansu, jaki dzieli go od ziemi. W tym momencie włącza mu się instynkt przetrwania i jego kolana uderzają o powierzchnię platformy. Zostaje wciągnięty w szarpaninę z szesnastoletnim chłopcem, który patrzy na Harry’ego tak, jakby to on był odpowiedzialny za to wszystko, od blizny na jego policzku do brudnej, obdartej koszuli na jego grzbiecie, piasku na pustyni, gorącego słońca i świętej niesprawiedliwości. Mocują się jeszcze chwilę, a potem Harry ostatecznie wyrywa się i upada na plecy, uderzając głową o oponę. Widok przed oczami na moment zachodzi mu czernią, po czym znowu się rozjaśnia. Siada powoli, rozmasowując sobie tył czaszki i myśląc, że później na pewno go rozboli. Czyjaś dłoń sięga ku niemu od tyłu i łapie za kołnierz, ale lada chwila przesuwa się i skręca mu ramiona. Harry obraca głowę i dostrzega, że dotarli do środka wioski. Wygląda na to, że każdy mieszkaniec wyszedł do nich, by wspiąć się na ciężarówkę i błagać o pieniądze. Jak szacuje Harry, musi ich być ponad pięćdziesięciu, w grupkach po cztery lub pięć osób, a wszyscy sięgają po niego, łapią za wszystko, czego mogą się trzymać, jakby ich dłonie były głodne skóry Harry’ego, jego koszuli, włosów… Musi przesiąść się na sam środek platformy, by nie mogli go dotknąć. Potem wstaje, by zwiększyć dystans między nimi. Patrzą na niego, jakby był następcą Chrystusa, premierem, prezydentem albo kimkolwiek, kto byłby odpowiedzią na ich problemy, jeśli ktokolwiek JEST odpowiedzią. Wyciągają ku niemu ręce dłońmi do góry; rękawy ich wyblakłych i obdartych koszul są zakasane, a same koszule tak luźne, że Harry widzi żebra wystające pod skórą po bokach. Wołają go, krzyczą ze wszystkich stron, opowiadają historie w nieznanych mu językach, otaczają samochód, przyciskają piersi do skorodowanej farby i metalu, a on czuje się dławiony przez ich potrzeby, niemal cały nimi pochłonięty. Ich oczy są szeroko otwarte i szokująco białe na tle czarnej skóry. Ich głosy łamią się od krzyku. Ich zęby są idealne. Harry zdaje sobie sprawę, że to takie złe, niewłaściwe, to jak na niego patrzą. Z desperacją i pragnieniem, które mówi: „Uratuj mnie, uratuj, przecież po to tutaj jesteś”, kiedy czepiają się końców jego kremowej, lnianej koszuli, na której kupno w lotniskowym sklepie z pamiątkami nalegał Draco, żeby miał coś przewiewnego. Mimo że była boleśnie droga, Harry ją kupił, oczywiście, że ją kupił, by zobaczyć uśmiech na ustach Malfoya, kiedy nałoży ją następnego dnia. Dłonie ludzi są bardzo ciemne i bardzo suche i Harry’emu nagle tak bardzo chce się pić, że niemal umiera z pragnienia, niemal rozpada się na kawałki tam, gdzie stoi, jakby był kamieniem i kruszył się na piasek. A cała ta sytuacja to nie jest jedynie złe miejsce czy zły czas, to zły pomysł, kurewsko złe wyobrażenie. Kim on był, aby myśleć, że może ich uratować, chociaż kilku z nich, dwóch, trzech albo czterech? Kim był, aby myśleć, że może uratować wszystkich? Harry krzyczy do Yerodina, żeby się nie zatrzymywał, żeby jechał, póki nie znajdą się stąd jak najdalej. Unika wzroku Draco, kiedy ten patrzy na niego z miejsca pasażera na przedzie. Harry siada na samym końcu platformy, opierając plecy o klapę a odbicie w tylnej szybie samochodu ukazuje Nigerian, którzy biegną za nimi z wyciągniętymi ramionami oraz Harry’ego, w jego lnianej koszuli, wyprasowanej i czystej, w piaskowym, nierzucającym się w oczy kolorze, nie robiącego zupełnie nic. * Niebo tutaj pokrywa głęboka szarość, której Harry nigdy wcześniej nie widział, przyzwyczajony do angielskich deszczowych chmur, biało-szarych i oddalonych tak bardzo, że zdają się górować ponad wszystkim, co miało związek z nim i kimkolwiek innym. Niebo nad Anglią i całą resztą świata wydawało się nietykalne, obojętne na wszystko, co dzieje się pod nim. Tutaj było jednak inaczej, wszystko było inaczej. Chmury nad Afryką wisiały ciężko, tak blisko ziemi, że Harry sądził, iż ociera się o nie czubkiem głowy i moczy palce u dłoni. Mają tu większą głębię, są ciemniejsze, pełniejsze, burzowe grzmoty sprawiają, że ziemia trzęsie się w posadach, a towarzyszący odgłos jest czymś innym niż zwykła, zbadana naukowo odpowiedź na błyskawicę. Harry myśli, że właśnie dlatego Afryka pozostaje nietknięta, nienaruszona. Przez tę bliskość. * Tej samej nocy Harry ma sen. Stoi nad tym samym urwiskiem, nad którym byli w Gwinei i słyszy, jak krople deszczu odbijają się od liści drzew, by po chwili opaść na ziemię. On jednak jest całkowicie suchy, a z ciemnych chmur nad jego głową nic nie pada. Nie sądzi, że to dziwne, ale przynajmniej niecodzienne. Zerka w dół klifu i dostrzega tysiące tubylców usiłujących trzymać się wzniesienia. Krzyczą do niego o pomoc w tysiącach języków, których nie rozumie. Harry odsuwa się od skraju i nagle się na coś natyka, a kiedy się odwraca, widzi Draco, który stoi nad nim, przemoczony deszczem, który nie pada. Po jego policzkach ześlizgują się pojedyncze krople, przywołujące na myśl obraz łez. — Nie popychaj mnie — odzywa się Harry. Musi krzyczeć, bo ledwo słyszy sam siebie przez szum niepadającego deszczu. — Draco, proszę, nie spychaj mnie na dół. Draco wygląda na zakłopotanego. — Spychać cię? Harry ogląda się przez ramię i widzi za sobą tak bardzo, bardzo daleką drogę na samo dno. Odwraca się z powrotem, ale Draco już zniknął. Nagle zaczyna padać, a deszcz leje się na jego skórę i włosy, moczy ubranie; nie brzmi jednak jak deszcz, a głosy wszystkich ludzi, których nie zdołał uratować, ich krzyki o pomoc i skargi o odrzucenie odbijają się echem w każdej spadającej kropli. Ziemia pod jego stopami robi się śliska i niestabilna i Harry upada na nią plecami, a potem ześlizguje poza krawędź. Podróż w dół nie przypomina idei latania ani uczucia wolności. To tylko spadanie. * — Wiem, że chciałeś mnie uratować — mówi Draco, a Harry zastanawia się, czy to tylko sen, czy to nigdy się nie wydarzyło, bo poza nimi nie ma nic, ani czasu, ani miejsca, ani jednego szczegółu. Istnieje jedynie Draco, sposób, w jaki drżą mu dłonie, kiedy trzyma go za rękę tak mocno, że mógłby połamać mu kości. — Wiem, że chciałeś mnie uratować — powtarza — ale czuję, że zamiast tego mnie zabiłeś. * — Musimy stąd odjechać — mówi Harry. — W inne miejsce. — Co? — pyta Draco, odwracając się, by na niego spojrzeć. Jest środek dnia, wciąż przebywają w Nigerze. Jedzą obiad na zewnątrz kawiarni, a istnienie podobnego lokalu w tak nieznośnie gorącym miejscu zdumiewa Harry’ego, przyprawia go o zawroty głowy. A może to przez upał. Harry stawia swój napój na białym obrusie i pochyla się do przodu. — Afryka mnie dusi — wyjaśnia niskim i zachrypniętym głosem. — Nie zniosę tutaj kolejnego dnia. Polecimy do Azji, Europy Wschodniej, Ameryki Południowej albo jeszcze gdzieś indziej. Draco otwiera usta ze zdumienia. — Wciąż mam sporo pieniędzy do rozdania — kontynuuje Harry — ale nie mogę tego robić tutaj. Umrę. — Oszalałeś? — pyta Draco. Harry wyczuwa bunt w jego głosie. — Co masz na myśli? — Jeśli chcesz, odlecimy stąd dzisiaj albo nawet teraz, mnie to pasuje. Po prostu zapłać rachunek, rzuć kelnerce napiwek i chodź. Do diabła, urządzę ci nawet defiladę — mówi Draco lekceważąco, a potem przybiera poważny ton: — Ale niech chociaż przez chwilę nie widzi ci się w tej twojej głupiej łepetynie, że kiedykolwiek wybiorę się z tobą jeszcze na tę... tę... wycieczkę. To wytrąca Harry’ego z równowagi, ale nie ma szansy pozbierać własnych myśli, bo Draco ciągnie dalej: — Kończę z tym, Harry — oświadcza i patrzy mu prosto w oczy. Wyglądają w tym momencie, jakby dopiero się poznali, jakby Harry był nikim więcej niż nieznajomym dla Draco, którego lodowata obojętność celuje prosto w jego serce. — Kończę. Ostateczność w jego głosie jest przerażająca, a myśl, że Draco odejdzie, wzbudza w Harrym strach. — Nie możesz odejść — stwierdza, panikując. Czuje się, jakby łapał się na oślep różnych argumentów, odrzucając je kolejno w myślach, aż znajduje taki, który podziała zawsze przedtem, któremu Draco nigdy nie potrafił się postawić. — Pięć lat jeszcze nie minęło. Kiedy to mówi, nie patrzy na Draco, nie chcąc zobaczyć sposobu, w jaki zesztywnieją jego ramiona, a wzrok przybierze surowy wyraz. Miał zamiar wyłożyć to delikatnie, ponieważ kwestia ta od zawsze wisiała nad ich głowami jako milczące porozumienie, plamiące każdą chwilę i każdą rzecz — realność okoliczności. I nieważne, ile razy odmawiali wspominania o tym albo starali się zapomnieć, trzymać za ręce czy wymieniać pocałunki, zawsze istniał cień rzeczywistości: Harry jest tym, który więzi, a Draco to więzień. Gardło Harry’ego ściska się na tę myśl, na przypomnienie prawdziwego powodu, dlaczego Draco z nim jest, dlaczego musi go opuścić, ponieważ zabierze on wszystko, co między nimi istnieje, odetnie temu nogi i zostawi ze świeżymi, krwawiącymi emocjami. To nie znaczy, że Harry kocha Draco mniej. Znaczy tyle, że miłość jest bardziej bolesna. Patrzy na Draco poprzez pojedynczy czerwony goździk, stojący między nimi na obrusie i zamiast porażki, jak oczekuje, dostrzega w jego oczach palący opór. — Odejdę — mówi Draco zwyczajnie. W odpowiedzi Harry tylko się na niego gapi. — Zobaczysz — grozi lodowatym tonem, a Harry zastanawia się, jak udaje mu się być tak zimnym, skoro wszędzie wokół jest niemożliwie gorąco, tak duszno, gdziekolwiek by się nie znaleźli. — Odejdę, kiedy będziesz spał. Ukradnę trochę pieniędzy i złapię samolot albo pociąg. Nie muszę zostawać. Coś w błysku w oczach Draco zahacza o manię, samobójstwo, przypominając Harry’emu zagonione w pułapkę zwierzę, którego jedynym wyjściem jest zabić albo zostać zabitym. Harry zastanawia się, czy Afryka rzeczywiście miała na niego tak zły wpływ, okazała się tak wymagająca, że stała się sprawą życia lub śmierci. A może Draco chce umrzeć, żeby uciec od samego siebie? — Nie musisz zostawać? — powtarza Harry. — Ministerstwo... — Jesteśmy w Afryce, Harry, co zrobi z tym ministerstwo? — przerywa mu Draco. — Cóż, mogą cię znaleźć. Naprawdę sądzisz, że tak po prostu pozwoliliby skazanemu śmierciożercy, nie mówiąc już o tym, że jest nim Malfoy, uciec i zapaść się pod ziemię w obcym kraju? Harry bardziej wyczuwa niż widzi, jak spojrzenie Draco wwierca się w jego oczy, ponieważ słońce w południe rozjaśnia jego blond włosy o wiele za mocno i tak boleśnie jest na niego patrzeć. Harry musi zmrużyć powieki. — Nie powiedziałbyś im, gdybym zniknął — mówi Draco, całkowicie pewny siebie. Harry zdaje sobie sprawę, że duma zawsze była największym grzechem Malfoya. Opierał na niej swoje życie i z jej pomocą kontrolował znajomości, a teraz cierpi za to, jak rodowa duma przylgnęła do jego imienia. Z drugiej strony, gdzie byłby bez niej Draco? Kim by był? To ona sprawiła, że te cztery i przeszło pół roku były dla niego nie do zniesienia, ale teraz jest jedyną rzeczą, która pozwala mu nie oszaleć, która go ratuje. Harry rozumie też nagle, że po tym wszystkim nic już dla nich nie istnieje. „To” nie jest jedynie Afryką, ale czterema latami i sześcioma miesiącami, wszystkim, co w tym czasie się między nimi wydarzyło i co się nie wydarzyło, co stanowiło jedynie wyobrażenia i marzenia, które giną, kiedy wywlecze się je na światło dnia. Harry patrzy na Draco. Draco jest załamany. Harry o tym wie, jest tego pewien, tak samo jak tego, że jutro rano znowu wstanie słońce, a jakiś czas potem zajdzie za horyzont. Wie to, ponieważ to on go złamał, on czuł trzask w swoich dłoniach. Jak Harry mógł myśleć, że będzie miał jakieś „potem” z Draco, jeśli przeżycie tych niemal pięciu lat okazało się takie nieznośne? — ...wiem, że byś tego nie zrobił — kontynuuje Draco, a Harry nie jest do końca pewien, czy mówił przez cały czas. Czuje, jakby w przeciągu kilku sekund minęły całe lata, a w tym czasie on zestarzał się i niewyobrażalnie zmurszał. Draco przekornie utrzymuje swoje spojrzenie i Harry wyłamuje się jako pierwszy, bo patrzenie na niego bardzo boli, na więcej niż jeden sposobów. Coś szarpie Harrym i mówi mu, że może to powstrzymać, że Draco nie odejdzie, jeśli poda mu prawidłowe odpowiedzi, powie właściwe rzeczy. Ale co mogłoby być tym dobrym powodem? Jest on niczym pustynny piasek pod jego adidasami Nike, przesypuje mu się przez palce, kiedy usiłuje go zlapać. Nie potrafi go znaleźć, więc musi się poddać. Kiedy spływa na niego świadomość porażki, zamyka oczy. Czerwona sylwetka Draco tworzy odbitkę na czerni pod powiekami, w jego pamięci. Odchyla głowę do tyłu; słońce piecze go najmocniej w oczy i dół szczęki. — I gdzie pójdziesz, jeśli odejdziesz? — pyta. — Gdzie będziesz? Głos Draco pozostaje pewny. — Gdziekolwiek. Harry prostuje głowę i otwiera oczy, po czym rozgląda się dookoła. Wszystko jest teraz białe, tak bardzo białe, piasek i niebo, istnieje jedynie ta mała kawiarnia, w której siedzą, a poza tym, w żadnym z czterech kierunków świata, nie ma zupełnie nic. Pustynia, słońce i Nicość. Nawet sam Draco tak niegdyś powiedział — w Afryce nie ma zupełnie nic. — Chyba raczej nigdzie — odpowiada. Wychodzą niedługo później, a Draco nie odzywa się przez całą drogę powrotną do hotelu. Jest niecodziennie cichy przez pozostałą część nocy, a Harry nie robi nic, żeby przełamać milczenie, powstrzymać czy uczepić się go, ponieważ ma świadomość, że Draco to zrobi, odejdzie, a on nie będzie mu w tym przeszkadzał, bo Draco zasłużył na to po czterech latach i sześciu miesiącach, zarobił na prawo do ucieczki. Harry wie, że pewnego ranka obudzi się i po raz pierwszy w Afryce poczuje chłód, ponieważ łóżko będzie puste, a Draco zniknie. Wie, że nie powiadomi ministerstwa, a gdy minie jeszcze sześć miesięcy, poinformuje ich o tym, że Malfoy zdecydował się pozostać w Afryce, że kupił sobie posiadłość na plaży i planuje wybudować bungalow z wielkim pomostem aż do wody, że Harry rozmawia z nim regularnie i ani razu nie wspomnieli ani o magii, ani o wojnie. Zrobi to, żeby go chronić. Zawsze będzie chronił Draco, aż do grobowej deski. Harry wie, że nie ma nic, co może Draco powstrzymać, bo nie powinien tego robić, a jeśli zniknie, niczym na to nie zareaguje. Poza, być może, tęsknotą. * Pierwszej nocy, kiedy Draco przychodzi do Harry’ego, rozbijają obóz pośrodku Nicości, przejechawszy całe godziny przez błotniste drogi, które nie zaprowadziły ich do żadnego hotelu, a jedynie do kolejnej z niekończących się, afrykańskich głuszy. Twarda, czerwona glina jest dla nich dywanem, a niebo dachem. Harry jest zdenerwowany i nie może zasnąć, bo myśli, że się zgubili, gdzieś w Serengeti, gdzie lwy, gepardy albo inne zwierzęta zakradną się do nich w środku nocy i zjedzą podczas snu. Harry sugeruje więc Draco, by spał w samochodzie, a sam kładzie się na cienkim kocu, który Malfoy podwędził w jednym z hoteli, rozłożywszy go uprzednio na pełnej błota polance, otoczony przez najwyższą trawę, jaką w życiu widział. Stara się usnąć, lecz gwiazdy świecą zbyt jasno, a każdy dźwięk wydaje się dobiegać z bliska. W pewnym momencie słyszy trzask otwieranych i zamykanych drzwi i myśli, że Draco wyszedł za potrzebą, więc zamyka oczy i udaje śpiącego, ale kroki Malfoya przybliżają się do miejsca, gdzie leży. Draco stoi nad nim przez chwilę; jego sylwetka rzuca cień w niebiesko-fioletowym świetle gwiazd. Słyszy cichy szept: „Harry?” Rozważa zignorowanie go, wybiera pomiędzy przeczekaniem, aż Malfoy odejdzie, a otwarciem oczu. Nieotwieranie ich wydaje się być obiecującą opcją, ale Draco ponownie wymawia jego imię głosem tak cichym i niepewnym, że obojętność aż boli. Harry uświadamia sobie, że w Draco też może być coś obiecującego, chociaż w całkiem inny sposób. Uchyla więc powieki, pozwalając sobie przyzwyczaić się do jasności nocy. Malfoy nadal stoi, opatulony srebrnym światłem. Wygląda przepięknie — kosmyki włosów wpadają mu do oczu, a wczorajsza koszula jest pognieciona i niemal w całości niezapięta, spada mu lekko z lewego ramienia, i w tym momencie Harry myśli, że zrobiłby wszystko, o co Draco go poprosi, porzuciłby Afrykę na zawsze albo wszedł prosto w zarośla i nigdy nie wrócił, albo kochałby go tak długo, aż te wszystkie gwiazdy spadłyby im z nieba na głowy. Draco pyta go, łagodnie i z wahaniem, czy może się z nim położyć. Sposób, w jaki zadaje pytanie, i to, jak wskazuje prawą ręką na koc, jest bardzo dziwny, a Harry żałuje, że nie ułożył się z nim tutaj bez pytania. Kiwa jednak głową i uśmiecha się delikatnie, robiąc mu miejsce. Ucisza go, kiedy Malfoy próbuje się tłumaczyć, że samochód był zbyt ciasny, że zbyt mocno pachnie potem, który nie należy do niego. Po chwili, z uśmiechem przyciśniętym do pleców Draco, Harry stara się stłumić chęć, by powiedzieć mu, że musi być cicho albo usłyszą ich lwy, inaczej by go przestraszył. Pragnie jedynie leżeć tutaj razem z nim, w samym środku głuszy, obserwować sposób, w jaki światło gwiazd pada na jego skórę, rzucając cienie w miejscach, którym Harry nigdy się zbyt dokładnie nie przypatrywał, jak zgięcie szyi czy łuk dolnej części pleców schowanych pod koszulą. To nowe odkrycie jest orzeźwiające, przyspiesza Harry’emu puls, jest spragniony wiedzy, chce więcej. Palcami wodzi po idealnej linii szyi, sunie przez jego ramię, a wtedy Draco się odwraca, połyskujący, piękny, trwający przy Harrym. Odwzajemnia pocałunek. Harry oplata go ramionami, wdycha głęboko zapach trawy, nocy i tej chwili w Afryce, zawieszonej w czasoprzestrzeni. * Następnego dnia mają zaplanowany powrót do Londynu. Odlatują o siódmej rano, więc Harry nastawia budzik na piątą trzydzieści, ale budzi się o piątej, ponieważ coś zrywa go ze snu, ponieważ coś jest nie tak. Ponieważ jest mu zimno. * — Kursy przeliczeniowe będą tam absurdalne — mówi Harry. — Do czasu, kiedy tam dotrę i wymienię pieniądze, będę musiał oddać piętnaście razy więcej. Remus śmieje się. — Przeklnij Wielką Brytanię za jej bogactwo. Więc co zamierzasz zrobić, Harry? — pyta, gdy śmiech przeistacza się w mały uśmiech, który, jak sądzi Harry, również znika zbyt szybko. — Przypuszczam, że będę musiał pracować trochę ciężej, żeby znaleźć największe zniszczenia — odpowiada Harry żartem. Na moment zapada milczenie. — Bądź ostrożny, Harry — przestrzega Lupin poważnym tonem. Harry uśmiecha się. — Wiem, wiem, Afryka jest niebezpieczna i co tam jeszcze. Całkiem inny świat. Ale nie martw się, poradzę sobie. Remus patrzy na niego przez chwilę, nie ukrywając emocji, a zwątpienie i troska w jego oczach, którą widzi Harry, sięga tak głęboko, że jest całkowicie przekonany, iż źle zrozumiał słowa Lupina; nie mówił on o niebezpieczeństwach Afryki, a o czymś zgoła innym. Jednak jak szybko zaczęła się ta osobliwa chwila, tak szybko minęła. Remus wstaje i zabiera filiżanki — pustą Harry’ego i swoją, nienaruszoną — a potem dodaje: — Mam nadzieję, że sobie poradzisz, Harry. Mam taką nadzieję. Harry uśmiecha się i wkłada swój płaszcz. — Przyjdę cię odwiedzić, jak tylko wrócę, i opowiem o wspaniałych i plugawych afrykańskich przygodach — odpowiada i puszcza Remusowi oko. * Harry dociera na lotnisko wcześnie, całkiem sam. Czeka na swój samolot na twardym krześle o prostym oparciu, które przypomina mu te dla dzieci w przedszkolu; czerwone, pomarańczowe lub jasnoniebieskie krzykliwe, plastikowe bezguścia. Opiera nogi o krzesło naprzeciwko i powoli drętwieje od pasa w dół. Plecak, który teraz jest niemal pusty, podłożył sobie pod głowę. Siedzi rozwalony z zamkniętymi oczami, nieumyty i nieogolony od dobrych kilku dni, mimo to nadal sądzi, że wygląda dobrze, jak na mężczyznę, którego szwy pękają od środka. Jedyna aktywność, jaką rejestruje na terminalu, to syk i świst maszyny do espresso w Starbucksie po jego prawej stronie. Zastanawia się, dlaczego tak hałasuje, skoro nie pojawił się nikt, kto chciałby zamówić kawę. Widział jedynie kobietę, która tam pracuje, prawdopodobnie miejscowa, wysoka i ciemnoskóra, z długą, etiopską szyją. Siedzi w milczeniu przy jednym ze stolików w swoich spodniach khaki i czarnej koszuli z kołnierzem, krzyżuje nogi i opiera je o bok stolika, czytając afrykański magazyn ze zdjęciem kobiety trzymającej niemowlę na okładce. Harry przypomina sobie z zaskoczeniem, że nie kupił jeszcze prezentu dla dziecka Hermiony, które według przypuszczeń przyjdzie na świat za dwa dni. Zastanawia się, jak zareagowałaby Hermiona, gdyby pierwszym prezentem jej dziecka od ojca chrzestnego była afrykańska plemienna maska. Przewiduje, że nie byłby to dobry wybór, aczkolwiek sądzi, że George miałby z niej niezłą radochę. Hermiona spojrzałaby na niego surowym wzrokiem i przypomniała, że on lub ona jest jeszcze niemowlakiem, dla którego sztuka nie ma jeszcze znaczenia; zapytałaby, czy Harry nie sądzi, iż jedna z tych ślicznych, edukacyjnych książeczek z dźwiękowymi przyciskami nie byłaby bardziej odpowiednia i użyteczna. Powiesiłaby jednak maskę w pokoju dziecka, zapewniłaby, że jej się podoba, choć sama po prostu nie wybrałaby podobnego prezentu. Harry przypuszcza, że jej dziecko będzie miało jakąś dziwaczną fobię, strach przed maskami, szczeniakami czy jeszcze czymś innym. Pociera czoło i ściska skórę pomiędzy brwiami. Kiedy tylko dotrze do domu, po prostu szybko aportuje się na Pokątną i znajdzie jedną z tych książeczek z dźwiękiem i... Aportuje się. Harry siada nagle, przeklinając swoją głupotę. Może się po prostu aportować. Tak łatwo byłoby wyobrazić sobie swoje mieszkanie, ulubiony fotel w salonie, tuż obok okna. Czuje się jak idiota, że wcześniej o tym nie pomyślał. Wstaje z plastikowego krzesła, zabiera plecak i wyrusza na poszukiwanie jakiegoś odosobnionego kąta, mimo że wątpi, iż ktoś na terminalu zauważyłby jego nagłe zniknięcie. Znajduje najbliższą toaletę, ale w środku jest jakiś tubylec opróżniający śmietnik. Ma na sobie sweter z napisem na plecach, który Harry bierze za nigeryjski odpowiednik słowa „woźny”. Mężczyzna kiwa mu głową na powitanie, a on zauważa, że biel jego oczu zblakła z wiekiem, a lewe zamglone jest przez kataraktę. Harry kiwa mu w odpowiedzi i podchodzi do umywalki, co jest wiarygodnym wyjściem, zważając na jego obecny wygląd. Woźny szybko zastępuje pełną torbę na śmieci nową, a kiedy kończy, popycha swój wózek ze środkami czystości na zewnątrz i pozwala drzwiom zamknąć się cicho, zostawiając Harry’ego samego. Harry zakręca kurek, suszy dłonie i za zamkniętymi oczami stara się przywołać obraz swojego domu. Na próżno; nie widzi ani swojej kuchni, ani sypialni, ani ulubionego fotela w salonie czy innej części mieszkania. Widzi Draco. Draco, który uśmiecha się do niego w samolocie do Senegalu, Draco siedzącego na brzegu łóżka w gościnnej sypialni z zalęknionym wzrokiem i sylwetką złamaną przez porażkę, Draco, który odwraca się do Harry’ego pod małym kocem, który dzielili na środku sawanny z niebem na wyciągnięcie ręki, a potem ujmuje twarz Harry’ego w dłonie i całuje go delikatnie, i smakuje wahaniem, miętą i wszystkimi dobrymi rzeczami, które Harry pamięta o Afryce. Draco Pieprzony Malfoy. Harry wzdycha i otwiera oczy, przebiegając dłonią przez zmierzwione włosy. Draco już z nim nie ma. Unika spojrzenia na siebie w lustrze, kiedy z tylnej kieszeni spodni wyjmuje bilet. Słowo „LONDYN” napisano na nim pogrubioną, czerwoną czcionką; przywołuje ono wspomnienie zalanych deszczem ulic, odciski gumy na chodniku i ludzi, tak wielu ludzi, wszyscy w pośpiechu, by gdzieś dotrzeć, coś zrobić. Każdy ma swój własny plan i hierarchię wartości, a Harry zastanawia się, kiedy zmieniły się jego priorytety. Czemu nie chce być jak wszyscy inni, przychodzić do pracy na czas, robić zakupy i przygotowywać kolację, zanim będzie na nią za późno, może spotkać kogoś po drodze, kogoś, z kim można spędzić czas, uszczęśliwić? Dlaczego przestał tego pragnąć? Kiedy jego wartości ewoluowały w coś zupełnie innego? Harry myślał, że przyleciał tu po to, aby coś znaleźć, to „coś” pośrodku Nicości. Myślał, że tego właśnie potrzebował, że to zapełniłoby w nim pustkę. Starał się ratować ludzi swoimi pieniędzmi i lubi myśleć, że może w większości przypadków mu się udało. Ale to tylko pieniądze, papier, atrament i odrobina metalu, które zbijają się w mokrą kulę na deszczu i do niczego nie przydają. A szczęście, miłość czy jakkolwiek by to nazwać, cokolwiek jest prawdziwym, ludzkim odkupieniem, nie przyjdzie wraz z pieniędzmi, czy się je otrzymuje, czy rozdaje. Harry uważał to za swoją pokutę. Wyobrażał sobie, że pieniądze są czymś w rodzaju ubezpieczenia ukrytego w liczbach, im więcej pomoże, w tym lepszej sytuacji się znajdzie. Że zasłuży na własne odkupienie, rozdając je innym. Nie zatrzymał jednak własnego, kiedy uciekło mu w środku nocy. I tutaj go zostawiło, samotnego w męskiej łazience, w samym środku Nigeru, kiedy trzyma bilet pierwszej klasy do Londynu, z niczym poza pustym plecakiem leżącym na szafce. Pachnie niezmytymi łzami i potem i nie ma pojęcia, jak ratować samego siebie. Nie wie, czy jakiś sposób się sprawdzi. Kiedy starał się je kontrolować, dyktować skąd i do kogo ma iść, jego własne odkupienie nadal nie nadchodziło; kiedy z kolei nie robił nic, odeszło od niego, pozostawiając za sobą chłodną pościel. Wciska bilet z powrotem do kieszeni i wychodzi z łazienki w momencie, gdy woźny wychodzi z damskiej toalety. Znowu kiwa w kierunku Harry’ego, uśmiechając się, a jego zęby są proste, ale nie tak idealne, jak były kiedyś. Kiedy odchodzi, lekko kulejąc, wyraźnie przypomina Harry’emu o Remusie, łagodnym, miłym i coraz starszym, zaniedbanym, tak jak większość ludzi w jego wieku. Harry jest owładnięty jego osobą; sprawdza kieszenie w poszukiwaniu pieniędzy, których tam nie znajduje, a potem sięga do swojego buta i nagle przypomina sobie o skrytce w plecaku. Wyciąga banknoty i biegnie za mężczyzną. — Proszę pana! — krzyczy, mając nadzieję, że woźny zna angielski. — Proszę pana! Mężczyzna zatrzymuje się i odwraca, wyglądając na zaniepokojonego. Pod lewym okiem ma bliznę w kształcie półksiężyca. Harry wkłada pieniądze w dłoń woźnego i uśmiecha się do niego, mówiąc: — Proszę. Niech pan weźmie. Mężczyzna zerka na banknoty. Potrząsa głową i unosi wzrok na Harry’ego, starając się mu je zwrócić, ale Harry nie chce ich przyjąć. — Chcę, żeby pan je wziął — wyjaśnia Harry, a jego serce aż skręca się ze szczerości. Mężczyzna jednak nadal go odpycha. Pewnie, ale delikatnie chwyta Harry’ego za nadgarstek i wciska mu pieniądze do ręki. Po wewnętrznej stronie palców ma odciski. Jego skóra jest ciepła tak samo jak uśmiech, kiedy potrząsa głową i wskazuje na swój wózek ze środkami czystości, jakby mówił: „Widzisz? Nie potrzebuję twojej jałmużny, pracuję, zarabiam pieniądze i jestem z tego dumny.” Harry zaciska palce na banknotach i kiwa szybko głową. Pieniądze gniotą mu się w dłoniach. Wyminąwszy Harry’ego wózkiem, woźny odchodzi, kulejąc, ale trzymając głowę wysoko. Odwraca się jeszcze i macha, nadal z uśmiechem na ustach. Harry odwzajemnia gest. Nie uratował tego człowieka, nie dał mu pieniędzy, by mógł rzucić pracę, przejść na emeryturę i osiąść gdzieś na plaży czy kawałku własnej ziemi. Harry niczego mu nie podarował, a jednak... Jednak czuje, że to mężczyzna podarował coś jemu — ciepło uśmiechu, delikatność dłoni, która uratowała maleńką cząstkę jego istnienia. Harry uświadamia sobie, że odkupienie nie posiada ustalonego poziomu, jaki należy osiągnąć, nie jest też wagą uczynków, dobrych czy złych. Zależy od sposobu, w jaki człowiek żyje, ocenia po decyzjach, jakie podejmuje z dnia na dzień, z minuty na minutę, istnieje w rzeczach, które robi się, by uczynić życie znośnym, zanim nie pozostanie już nic do przeżycia. Harry wie, że nie posiada wszystkich odpowiedzi. Może nie mieć ani jednej. Kilka mógł stracić. Wie natomiast, że to jest jedynie częścią czegoś większego, lepszego, jedynie początkiem końca, którego nie może być pewien, ale sądzi, ma nadzieję, wierzy, że jest on odpowiedzią. A to szukanie, ślepe zbieranie małych zadośćuczynień podobnych do tych jest wspaniałe, piękniejsze niż odkrywanie magii, lepsze niż cokolwiek innego, o czym może pomyśleć. W tym momencie podejmuje decyzję. Idzie do sklepu z pamiątkami i kupuje pocztówkę, którą wysyła Hermionie, przepraszając za to, że ominie narodziny swojej chrześniaczki lub chrześniaka i dodaje, że ma nadzieję, iż zostanie mu wybaczone. Chce też, żeby Hermiona wiedziała, że nawet jeśli go przy niej nie będzie, nie znaczy, że już nigdy się z nią nie skontaktuje albo że jej nie kocha. Potem dokupuje jeszcze papier listowy w kolorze jasnego błękitu ze słowem „Afryka” umieszczonym jako znak wodny na samym środku wielką, tropikalną czcionką. Pisze list do Remusa, ponieważ złożył mu obietnicę i nie ma zamiaru jej złamać. Następnie dodaje do zakupów czystą koszulę, lnianą, piaskową. Uśmiecha się, przesuwając dłonią po powierzchni materiału. Potem wymienia bilet do Londynu na bilet w jedną stronę do Południowej Ameryki, który także wywołuje na jego twarzy uśmiech. *** Harry myśli, że to musi być jedyne miejsce na świecie. Stara się udowodnić sobie, że się myli, wspinając się na najwyższą piaskową wydmę, jaką może znaleźć, ale wszystko, co widzi, to ta sama Nicość, więcej bezchmurnego, biało-błękitnego nieba i falista pustynia. Nie znajduje tu żadnego powodu, by wierzyć, że poza horyzontem, przy którym spotyka się błękit i beż, nie ma nic innego, nic, co przypominałoby mu, że nie jest jedynym istniejącym na świecie człowiekiem. Odchyla głowę do tyłu, w stronę słońca, zamyka powieki i rozkłada ramiona. Z dłońmi skierowanymi ku niebu i gardłem zaciśniętym przez nagły przypływ emocji krzyczy co sił: „CZY TO WSZYSTKO?!” Odpowiedź nie nadchodzi. KONIEC
10313246	Spin It	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Wrench (Watch Dogs), Marcus Holloway, Sitara Dhawan, Dušan Nemec, Raymond \"T-Bone\" Kenney", "Fandom": "Watch Dogs (Video Games)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by pomegrapples (orphan_account)", "chapters": "1/2", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-13T00:00:00", "words": "927", "Additional Tags": "Here we go, one way train to angst ville, marcus fucked up, Established Relationship", "Relationship": "Marcus Holloway/Wrench", "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 gonna leave you two lovebirds to jerk each other off." Not his best moment, but one of his best comebacks.Leaving the FBI building felt like hell on his eyes, the mask working the same as sunglasses usually. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone without it. Be a big boy? He wasn't the idiot being selfish and ridiculous about something like a mask. It was because Dusan knew that wasn't just a mask. It was a security blanket, of sorts. Even in a city like San Francisco, people would mock and jeer if they saw his face. So much for progressive. One of the agents forced to escort him out shoved him out the gate and, for once, Wrench didn't fight back."Goddammit, you motherfuckers! I'm coming to get that mask back!" Marcus was pissed, which made him nervous. "Wrench? I'm getting your mask back. Nobody does you like that.""No, Marcus, man... You -- you got more important shit to take care of.""Fuck that. I got your back."Wrench sighed, moving quickly to hijack a car and get as far away as he could. He needed somewhere high up, somewhere there wouldn't be too many people. It didn't take him long to think of the perfect place. There was a parking garage that had turned the top level into a garden of sorts, it'd calm him down and at this time of night, no one would bother him. Considering how tightly he gripped the wheel of the van, it was going to be a while until he recovered. They still didn't know his name, even without the mask. Marcus was going to get his mask back either way, why the hell was his brain still in overdrive worrying about the slim chances of never getting it back? Overthinking would be the death of him. Most people figured it'd be some explosion, a run-in with some cops, but Wrench had money on his own thoughts. He just needed to have more faith, Marcus was one of their most talented hackers, he could sneak past some FBI agents.Sighing, he pulled into the parking garage. It was technically closed, no one was around to ask for a ridiculously high price to park in some shitty three story garage. He parked and walked towards the stairs, noticing little details in everything. His own breathing, the air, the atmosphere changed drastically. Wrench looked around at the plants, taking in the different smells and shaking his head. Time to sit and wait. His boyfriend always did a good job of checking in over the voice chat; updating on his progress, throwing in a joke or two, anything that'd ease their nerves. DedSec is a family, everyone always worried about anyone out on a mission. Making jokes was Wrench's way to cope whenever he was out on a mission, it was Marcus's too. There wasn't any banter this time. Marcus needed to concentrate and he wasn't in the mood to joke around. Even talking felt weird and wrong with the voice mod was gone. He didn't even bother putting on some music, just moving to sit on the edge of the concrete roof. San Francisco was always beautiful, the sky painting itself into a peaceful mirage for the busy city to carry on underneath. No one took notice of anything after living somewhere long enough. Wrench paced around, staring at his shoes as he fumbled around in his pockets for a cigarette. After what felt like three minutes of searching, he plopped down on the couch, scoffing at the fact that they even had one in a garden rooftop thing. His hood fell off when he stretched out, sighing out a puff of smoke and closing his eyes. He didn't feel safe, but no one was going to join him. Hell, Marcus would be the first person in DedSec to see him without his mask. He'd come back with his mask, probably say something reassuring, and they'd forget it ever happened. That'd be the best outcome. The worst, he could always lose the person he loves the most just because of his ugly mug. That was one fucked up possibility that Wrench knew wouldn't happen, but it still made him take a longer drag of the cigarette dangling between his fingers. It had been an hour and not a single word from Marcus. This was supposed to be a quick, easy, in and out kinda mission. He frowned, pulling up TeamSpeak to ask about his progress. "M, how're you doing?"He flinched and sat up as soon as he heard a crash on the other end. "What the hell is going on?""Marcus, tell me that wasn't you." Even Ray was jumping in on this one. Wrench paled as soon as he heard that laugh. Goddamn Dušan Nemec. "Sorry, your little friend here is busy. You never learn, do you, Wrench?""If you fucking hurt him, I'll make you regret it every day of your motherfucking goddamn life you son of a bitch!""Hmm, guess I was right. Friend isn't the right term for your relationship. Come take him back, then, loverboy."The mic crackled off. The tight feeling of panic returned to his chest, this time with rage hand-in-hand. He stood up, shaking as he stormed towards the stairs. He took them down three at a time, determined to fix this. "Wrench.. you can't be ser-""I'm bringing him back home, Sitara. It's a trap, I know. I don't fucking care. Dušan crossed a fucking line this time."
10332299	The misunderstanding	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Phichit Chulanont, Lee Seung Gil", "Fandom": "Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by ayakocho", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-17T00:00:00", "words": "1,704", "Additional Tags": "my poor attempt at a funny story but somehow it didn't end up very funny, Office AU, Not Beta Read, One Shot, rated T because of the word dick, just in case ya know", "Relationship": "Phichit Chulanont/Lee Seung Gil", "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 }	Seung Gil didn’t know what he did to deserve this. He was always on time for work, sometimes the earliest in the office. He always finished his work before the deadline, most of the time days before he was expected to finish it. He always made sure not to bother those who sat around him, keeping his space clean and placing a comfortable distance between him and the others. So what did he do that caused his supervisor to call him to his office the moment he stepped into work? Seung Gil analysed each of his actions this week as he gently massaged his temples, trying to ease the headache from his hangover (drinking with the Crispinos was never a good idea, he had learned the hard way). There was only one thing he could think of that could have possibly incurred his supervisor’s wrath. Well, he was going to have to face it eventually. Seung Gil took a deep breath, let it out in a loud sigh, and knocked on the ominous wooden door. A cheerful “Come in!” was heard from the other side of the door and Seung Gil opened the door slowly, stepping into the room with caution. He stood awkwardly at the doorway, not sure if he should take a seat or remain standing. He didn’t want to offend his superior even more than he already had. He took a quick glance around the room to ease the sense of awkwardness. The office of his direct superior was well decorated, most surfaces covered in knick knacks or other personal items. It was as if this was his superior’s second home. “Seung Gil. Please, take a seat.” Seung Gil stopped glancing around and turned to look at his superior who was standing behind his large desk. Phichit Chulanont stood there in a well-pressed dress shirt and black dress pants looking as perfect as ever. They were the same age, but the other had accomplished so much more than Seung Gil in the same number of years. And this frustrated Seung Gil to no end. He was envious of the other’s relative success. And he wasn’t the only one who felt this way. There were many rumours circulating in the office, since Phichit was rather young for the supervisor position. Some said he blackmailed the senior manager into giving him the position. Others said he seduced the secretary of the CEO and convinced her to assign him the position. And there were more rumours that were...rather disturbing, in Seung Gil’s opinion. People have a pretty wild imagination when they’re desperate, Seung Gil had thought when he overheard some of his colleagues gossiping about the less savoury comments. But despite the envy he felt for the other, Seung Gil also felt a small ounce of respect for him. He could recognise hard work when he saw it and he could tell Phichit had worked hard, harder than anyone in their department probably, to get to where he was today. That is, if the pile of half done paperwork on the desk and the skillfully concealed eye bags under the other’s eyes were anything to go by. Seung Gil nodded at his supervisor and took a seat on one of the plush chairs in front of his desk. He watched as his supervisor walked to the other side of the room and opened a mini fridge (how was he even allowed to have one in here?), pulling out a mostly full bottle of wine and grabbing two wine glasses on the way back to his table. Seung Gil continued watching as his supervisor placed the two glasses on the table, unscrewed the wine bottle and started filling the glasses with a generous amount of wine. “I think you know why I’ve called you here today,” Phichit began. Seung Gil sighed and massgaed his temples again. Today was going to be really stressful. “Was it because I accidentally sent you that dick pic,” Seung Gil replied, looking down at the floor in what he felt as shame. He heard the sound of flowing liquid stop and footsteps walking in his direction. He chanced a glance up and saw his supervisor standing in front of his chair, a shocked look on his face. “Accidentally?” Seung Gil gave him a confused look. “You mean you sent me that dick pic by accident?” “Yes.” Seung Gil replied calmly, failing to understand why his supervisor looked so surprised...and embarrassed? (And cute?) Seung Gil blinked and shook his head to clear it of that odd thought. (Since when did he think that the other’s embarrassed face was cute?) But when he looked at his supervisor again, his cheeks were noticeably redder and he was staring at Seung Gil with such intense confusion and disbelief. “Is there something wrong?” Seung Gil asked, feeling uncomfortable under the other’s intense gaze. “No, nothing. I just…” the other trailed off. Seung Gil once again watched silently as his supervisor walked back to his desk, collapse in his seat and lay his head on the table. “I just thought you were confessing to me…” Seung Gil felt his eyebrows rise. Now that was surprising. The other man had spoken so softly that Seung Gil had barely caught it, even though he was sitting opposite the man himself. “Mr Chulanont, why would you ever think I would confess to you using something so crude,” Seung Gil asked in disbelief. “Because you never talk to anyone about anything other than work! So I thought...that when you sent something like that...that you were…” The other buried his head in his hands and spun his chair around such that he was back facing Seung Gil. Could it be , Seung Gil thought, that he likes me? “Mr Chulanont is it possible that you like me?” he asked. A groan was heard from the other man and after a moment he spun around to face Seung Gil. Seung Gil noted that the other’s cheeks were now an intense shade of dark red. “Well… Why else did you think I would call you into my office, pour you a glass of wine and attempt to create a romantic atmosphere,” the other replied with a pout, arms crossed, glaring at his desk. Seung Gil nodded slowly, but didn’t give any reply. He couldn’t decide on what to say. Should he reject the man? But he felt bad for doing so, which was rare since Seung Gil was such a straightforward person and didn’t mind to mince his words, and it felt wrong. As if something deep inside him was telling him that rejecting Phichit Chulanont’s confession was not the right choice. Did that mean that he should, and that he wanted to, accept the other’s confession? Another moment passed in silence before Seung Gil finally spoke up. “Mr Chulanont, I would like to firstly apologise for sending you something so obscene last night. It was done in a lapse of judgement as I was highly inebriated.” Seung Gil sighed again as he remembered the wild night he had before continuing. “And secondly, I acknowledge that you hold possible romantic feelings towards me. However, I do not reciprocate those feelings. But if you would like to, we can be friends.” The other looked at him with a grin on his face and a hopeful look in his eyes. Seung Gil thinks he must have said something right if the other was finally looking at him again and in a better mood. “Friends. Yes, I would like that,” the other replied before adding on quickly, “Oh and you can just call me Phichit. Since we’re going to be friends.” Phichit was still blushing faintly, from what Seung Gil could see, but he looked relieved and happy at least. “Alright, Phichit.” Seung Gil noted how Phichit’s grin seemed to widen when he called his name. They then once again lapsed into a moment of silence, both parties having nothing more to say to each other. “Is it fine for me to take my leave now?” Seung Gil asked, breaking the silence. “Oh! Yes, of course!” Phichit replied, glancing at the clock on his table and grimacing at how long he had held Seung Gil in here and away from work. Seung Gil stood up from his seat and gave Phichit a small bow before walking towards the door. “Wait, Seung Gil!” Phichit exclaimed as Seung Gil’s hand grabbed the handle on the door. Seung Gil turned around to face him, eyebrows raised in question. “Sorry,” Phichit quickly apologised, “I was just thinking that maybe tonight we could grab a bite together? After work? So we can get to know each other better as friends.” Seung Gil contemplated the idea for a few seconds. Dinner with his supervisor now turned friend…would probably be okay. “Sure,” he replied. Phichit seemed pleased with his reply and gave him a bright smile and waved him off, saying he would contact him later with more details. Seung Gil nodded at him and opened the door, wanting to step out of the room finally, and came face to face with several of his colleagues. “What are you doing here?” he asked as coldly as possible. The people gathered around the door quickly scattered under Seung Gil’s harsh glare, no doubt having heard their entire conversation, and Seung Gil glanced back at Phichit who was still standing there smiling at him. He must have seen the group at the door. “I’m not bothered by them finding out, if you were wondering,” Phichit said, sending him another smile though it looked rather forced. He clearly is bothered by it , Seung Gil thought. This was something that could possibly ruin his career after all. The career he had worked hard to build. “See you later tonight,” Seung Gil said as he gave Phichit one last glance and stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him softly. He sighed once again. The rumours of their relationship would surely have spread around the office by now and it would be hard to prevent them from reaching the ears of the higher-ups. Seung Gil had his work cut out for him.
10336694	Wish You Were Here	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Lydia Martin, Stiles Stilinski", "Fandom": "Teen Wolf (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by whenshekissedu", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-17T00:00:00", "words": "2,758", "Additional Tags": "Romance, Post-Canon, Long-Distance Relationship, phone conversation, Fluff and Angst", "Relationship": "Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski", "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 }	Lydia makes her way up the concrete steps to the front door of her house, the sound of her heels echoing in the lonely summer afternoon. Every day she reminds herself that this is still her home for a little over a month until she officially heads off to MIT for her first semester. Though she only has a limited time left in Beacon Hills before she packs up her things and leaves town, in her head she feels like she is already gone.It has only been two weeks, two days, and nine hours since she had left him completely unpacked and moved into his dorm at George Washington. One would think that would be plenty of time to adjust to the fact that he was there and she is here. But she can’t help the feeling she gets when she thinks of him. It is sort of like having “butterflies in your stomach,” though Lydia knows a far more correct term for that feeling is a “fight-or-flight” type of situation. But in this case, it is less about the “fight” and more about the “flight” instinct that consistently keeps her company and it gets worse with each passing day. This isn’t one of her “banshee” feelings that she normally needs to worry about. This is a pure and explicit want to be close to him, to breathe in his musky, yet calming scent that she has grown so attached to; to feel his strong and steady arms wrapped around her small figure. She misses him more than she will allow herself to admit.She tries to keep herself busy most days by either spending time with members of the pack-- the older members help the younger members get acclimated in knowing how to lead and handle stressful situations, so when they eventually do go their separate ways, they’ll know how to handle things without needing too much of them. Or she does something as simple as going out shopping with her mom and grabbing a coffee. One of her favorite past times is to read another of her lengthy textbooks. She is currently re-reading a copy about quantum mechanics and its many theories. Knowing things calms her anxiety.As she makes her way up the stairs on her way to her bedroom, her phone begins to vibrate. She can’t help the giddiness she feels and the smile that forms at the corners of her mouth when she sees “Stiles” pop onto the screen; also, accompanied by a photo of her shirtless boyfriend that she herself had taken one lazy morning while they laid in her bed after a night of lustful activities. Thinking about mornings like those helps ease the dull ache she feels, but also makes her feel restless for the future to arrive so she can continue to experience new ones on the other side of the continent.“Hey, Stiles.” Lydia answers as she takes off her heels and goes to sit on her bed to make herself comfortable. She hears Stiles reply “No thanks. I’m good, dude.” She assumes he’s talking to his roommate, Kyle, who she got to chance to meet briefly the same week she helped him get settled in his dorm. She knows Stiles doesn’t like him. She sensed it as soon as they shook hands with him. But Stiles doesn’t like very many people to begin with and she has a feeling it’s not so much that he hates Kyle, but more to do with choosing not to like him, possibly out of guilt… It isn’t surprising that he added one more person to his already long list of people. “Hey, Lyds. Sorry about that. Kyle asked if I wanted to grab something to eat. Psh. Yeah right! I have to dorm with the guy, doesn’t mean I have to eat with him too. Plus, I’ve seen him eat. He eats like he can’t close his mouth and breathe through his nose at the same time. It drives me crazy.” “Hmm. Sort of reminds me of someone I know,” Lydia says teasingly. “You know it’s okay for you to make new friends, right?”“Yeah, I’m aware… and what do you mean it reminds you of someone you know?!” Lydia ignores his question, “Stiles. Scott knows you’re his best friend. You two are brothers who love each other and talk daily. That’s not going away. He won’t mind if you hang out with other people. You aren’t replacing him by getting to know someone else. And Kyle doesn’t seem so bad… I’m sure you two have common interests that you can talk about. You need to try. Ask him about Star Wars, or something along those lines.”Lydia isn’t sure why she is pushing the idea of him making new friends. Considering she’s like Stiles in the sense that trusting new people isn’t something that comes easily to either one of them, not after all the shit they’ve been through the past two, almost three years. It is as though the fact that she isn’t there to keep him company is causing her to feel she needs to help him occupy his free time until she gets the chance to do it herself. And the whole forgetting him for almost three months doesn’t help her feel any less guilty--though Stiles will never blame her or any of their friends and family for that. It was one of the worst experiences she’s been through, and it’s not like they don’t have plenty of “worst experiences” to pick from. God knows they didn’t need anymore. “I’m not worried about our friendship… at least not anymore. And I don’t need to know Kyle to know he’s probably a Trekkie. He reeks of one. The Star Trek franchise is okay, but most of their fans are overconfident know-it-all’s who think they own the whole galaxy and everyone in it. I don’t trust him. Especially not with Star Wars.” “Of course you don’t.” Lydia rolls her eyes. “So you’re just going to continue to focus on training and not even socialize the whole time you’re in D.C.?” “No. I’m going to continue to focus on training and when I’m not training, I’m going to spend time with you, Lyds. Or do you not plan on spending time together? D-didn’t we plan this? I distinctly remember a conversation we had. Or am I making this up?” He said, sounding unsure. Even through the phone she can tell he was biting his nails while he overthinks and analyzes everything. “Need I remind you I still have over a month until I’m on the same coast as you. And even when I do get there… There’s still an eight-hour difference between Boston and D.C. We’re only going to be together as often as our schedules allow; and I’ve included homework and studying to that.” “Ugh! Don’t remind me.” They both fell silent for a moment. “I really miss you…” She hears Stiles say softly. Though Lydia was trying to resist, she can feel the tears forming behind her eyelids as she slowly takes a deep breath while looking up at her ceiling, trying not to let her emotions overtake her.“I miss you too.” She says while she glances at a picture frame on the dresser sitting beside her with a picture of the two of them wrapped up in a hug, her chin rested on his chest as she looked up at him and he looked down at her. They had taken this photo in Salt Lake City on their cross-country road trip during one of their many stops to sight see. “I wish you were here. I honestly think the last time I had the best sleep was when you were right next to me, here on this bed. Not even my own pillow is sufficing anymore. And you know how much I need my pillow. It’s not the same without you, Lydia… When I’m with you, I feel so safe. Like I’m home.”Lydia lets out a combination of a half chuckle and half sniffle. “You were watching Garden State again, weren’t you?” Stiles groans, “Lyyyds! I was trying to have a moment! And yeah… I watched it again last night, okay? Despite it being fucking presumptuous, you can’t deny that Zach Braff had some good quotes in that movie! Also, the soundtrack is ace.”“You’re cute. I love you.” Lydia thinks back to the day she finally got the chance to say those three short words that held the weight of the world and then some, to the one person she’s truly ever trusted with her heart, soul, and most importantly, her mind. It had been almost twenty-four hours after she had gotten him back from the other worldly dimension the Ghost Riders had kept him in. They had spent the whole day being inseparable. Even when they were in front of the pack and the sheriff, they tried keeping a discernible distance, mostly for Malia’s sake, but somehow would end up touching. His hand on her back, their thighs and hips right up against each other, their fingertips teasingly, fumbling one another. They were magnetic. After a long day of catching him up on all the events he had missed, it was just Stiles and her in his bedroom. They had driven to her house earlier to get a few of her belongings. She had slept in the same bed with him the night before and now she wasn’t sure she could go any night without him, at least not right away. It was more for her peace of mind than for his. Those three months for him had only felt like a couple of days. For her, a lifetime. And now things felt like they were finally how they were supposed to be. It was surprising how not surprising they fell into each other instinctively. They both knew they wanted the same thing. Just to be together. They cuddled, they kissed---sometimes slow and sensual, sometimes quick and aggressive with a hunger for it to turn deeper. While catching their breaths, as they stared at each other with all their love behind both of their eyes, it just slipped out. “I love you.” Just like that. Without hesitation, without fear, without the thought that she never was expected to say anything. Not if she wasn’t ready. She knew she loves him. He knows she loves him too. But Lydia thought that when she finally did say it back to him, that it would be after she had knowingly picked out the time and place for when she would do it, and not as word vomit. She startled herself, but she didn’t regret it one bit when she did say it though.The look Stiles gave her when she did… she can’t make that up. That was also the night they had sex for the first time. Lydia’s senses had never been as heightened with anyone else, as they had been in that moment when having sex with Stiles. Their love for one another did that for her. It was like she was sensitive in all the right places just from the thought of him, and how he touched her, and the ways in which he kissed her and loved her. She wanted to experience this ecstasy over and over and over again. Which Stiles, without her asking, had willingly committed to doing.Stiles has always absorbed and been proud of the person she truly is. He knew more about her than anyone even cared to know apart from her looks. It surprises her, even now, how much she doesn’t have to say to him. Regardless of her lack of emotionally heavy words, he’s never needed or demanded anything from her when she wasn’t ready. And that is why she doesn’t hesitate now to be as open as she can with him, especially with the “I love you’s.” She knows she doesn’t need to say it, but she also knows how much it means to him when she does.“God, I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.” “Well I’ll never get tired of saying it.” “Maybe I should fly back home this weekend. I don’t think I can wait a whole month until we’re together. I’m sure it wouldn’t be a big deal if I just skip a class and fly out on Friday morning and then fly back Sunday night.” Lydia had a feeling he would try to do this. “You can’t miss class. That’s ridiculous. You missed enough classes in high school to last a lifetime. And I’ve experienced not having you around for three whole months… Having to wait one month alone shouldn’t be too bad. We can wait.” Lydia lied. Stiles scoffs, “Maybe you can! But I can’t! You know how much I want to kiss you right this second? But I can’t because you’re 41 hours away. How is that fair? I think I should be allowed one weekend to go back home and see my girlfriend. Just one weekend.” “You’d fly all the way back home just to kiss me?” said Lydia in disbelief. “I mean… not just…kiss…” she hears Stiles trail off. “There are other needs.” “Oh, so you want to come help me pack for Boston. That’s so kind of you. Am I not a lucky girl?” She hears him sigh, “Ha ha. Come on, Lyds. I’m being serious… Those 41 hours we spent driving cross-country together were a highlight of my life. You right there next to me on my way to college, helping me move in… Who would’ve thought this would be how our lives would turn out?! During that time, I just kept thinking how fucking amazingly tragic, but ultimately rewarding my life has been. Both of our lives are fucked up; I don’t have to tell you that. But regardless of all the traumatic shit that went down, and all the losses we’ve had… I gained the most precious thing I could ever ask for. You. And I’m not just saying that now that we’re together. I’ve felt this way since we were kids. Just having you in my life makes me happy. It always has. It always will. And I’ve come so close to losing you so many times, that I don’t fucking care anymore about the little things. Yes. I know school is important. But I won’t hesitate to miss one day of class just to have you in my arms and to sleep right next to you, to kiss every inch of you and show you how much I love you, Lydia Martin. Okay? You driving me to D.C. is no different than me flying out to California. And you know it.” Lydia is shaking with so much emotion as she hears him speak. She knows he’s right. She knows that the whole reason she drove him to D.C. was because of her own selfish need to be with him as much as possible, because she loves him that much. She wanted to make up for lost time and she would do it again in a heartbeat. The other part of her knows that another reason she’s trying to be strong and have him stay in Washington D.C. is because she knows that he’s safe there. As far as she’s aware, there are no Ghost Riders in D.C., no evil spirits, no reminders of a ghost of the mother he lost too soon… She wants to protect him. But maybe that’s why he needs to come back, even just for a weekend. To ease his own mind about her as well. And to personally see and know that the rest of the people he left behind are okay. “I wish you were here too. Sorry. You’re right. I don’t want you to think I don’t want to see you. I do.” Lydia whispers. She’s full on crying now and knows Stiles can hear her, but she doesn’t try to hide it. Not from him. “You don't need to apologize to me. I’m going be there soon, okay? I’m buying a plane ticket tonight. When i'm finally there, I’m going to hug you so so tight, and I’ll keep hugging you for three days straight and not let go if you want me to. That’s a promise.” She hears Stiles voice start to shake. “I love you, Lyds. I love you so fucking much.” “I love you too, Stiles.”
10313858	Dom	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Steve Rogers, James \"Bucky\" Barnes", "Fandom": "Captain America (Movies)", "Language": "Русский", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by 006_stkglm, WTFStarbucks2017", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-15T00:00:00", "words": "3,380", "Additional Tags": "Don't copy to another site, Внеконкурс, WTF Starbucks 2017, Were-Creatures", "Relationship": "James \"Bucky\" Barnes/Steve Rogers", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	В больничной карте Стива — той, что к его тринадцати годам уже напоминала по толщине собрание сочинений какого-нибудь плодовитого писателя — на анкетном листе до всех прочих диагнозов, выписок и наблюдений в графе «второй облик» стоял прочерк. Со всеми его болезнями Стив был слишком слаб даже для того, чтобы перекинуться один-единственный раз и хотя бы чтобы узнать, кто это. Мама, когда он вздыхал, целовала его в макушку и говорила, что это не самая большая беда на свете. Ее вторым обликом был лебедь.Баки был медведем. В первый раз он перекинулся, как и все дети, спонтанно. Ему было лет шесть, и в зверином облике он выглядел скорее нелепо, чем угрожающе: взъерошенная шерсть, торчащие уши, заплетающиеся друг о друга лапы, куцый хвост и неумелый оскал. Но дворовая ребятня, возившаяся в пыли с палками и тряпичным мячиком, все равно прыснула во все стороны. Кроме Стива, разумеется. Они дружили — наверное, уже тогда они не помнили себя в том возрасте, когда не дружили бы — и это же был Баки. Чего было бояться? Только того, что миссис Барнс слишком строго отчитает за порванную рубашонку и отлетевшие от лямок штанов пуговицы. Поэтому домой к Барнсам они пошли вместе: Баки, пыхтя и смешно переваливаясь на неуклюжих лапах, и Стив с охапкой его одежды в руках.Миссис Барнс совсем даже не ругалась, только всплакнула чуток в рубашку сына, пока Стив пытался оттащить от Баки его радостно визжащих младших сестер. После ужина Стива отправили домой, а наутро Баки зашел за ним в своем привычном виде. Он совершенно не помнил, как перекинулся обратно — миссис Барнс уложила его спать, снился ему, кажется, лес, а проснулся он уже собой. Они много раз пытались повторить превращение, но так ничего и не добились: способность контролировать смену облика приходила, как сказали бы в двадцать первом веке, с половым созреванием.В следующий раз Баки перекинулся лет пять спустя, когда вызволял Стива из очередного переулка, и его зверь больше не выглядел ни маленьким, ни неуклюжим. Росту в холке в нем было Стиву по пояс, но когти клацали о мостовую весьма красноречиво. Было здорово возвращаться домой, пусть и побитым, но держа за загривок большого грозного зверя. Пока мама меняла на переносице Стива холодный компресс, промокала разбитую бровь и замачивала в тазу испачканную рубашку, Баки лежал, свернувшись у него в ногах большим мохнатым клубком, и время от времени ворчал. Стив никак не мог понимать медвежий язык, но все равно в точности знал, что говорит Баки: «И когда тебе уже надоест, сопляк?»— А до ды не зднаешь, пдидурок… — проворчал Стив, сквозь ватные тампоны в носу. Миссис Роджерс только головой покачала.Баки уверял, что он гризли, но в этом был весь Баки — если уж быть медведем, то самым большим и сильным. Стив, впрочем, не удивился бы, окажись все так на самом деле. Но когда Баки исполнилось пятнадцать и у него стало все лучше получаться контролировать процесс и дольше держать форму, а медведь стал так тяжел, что деревянные ступени под ним опасно скрипели, Стив, сравнил свои портреты Баки-медведя с атласом животного мира в публичной библиотеке. По всему выходило, что Баки был скорее барибалом, и спустя недолгое время, когда тот получал документы, это подтвердилось. Друг, впрочем, не особо расстроился, ведь в холодные ночи Стив по-прежнему мог спать в теплом коконе его большого косматого тела. -/- Последним, о чем Стив думал, когда соглашался на эксперимент Эрскина, была возможность обрести наконец свою звериную форму. Но это все же произошло, пусть и несколько месяцев спустя, уже после гибели профессора, посреди шумного тура в поддержку продаж оборонных облигаций. Поздно ночью, совсем не устав физически, но вымотавшись морально, он лежал в номере очередного отеля, закинув руки за голову и мрачно размышляя о том, что вряд ли кривляние на сцене было единственным применением для его нового тела. Мысли, как это часто случалось, тут же перенеслись через океан. Где Баки? Как он там? Цел ли?Стив даже не понял, отчего вдруг по всему телу под кожей разлился фантомный зуд, а в нос остро и терпко ударило невесть откуда взявшимся в отеле запахом хвои. Стив чихнул так сильно, что свалился с кровати, а когда, путаясь в руках, ногах и одеяле, открыл глаза, с ним было одновременно что-то не так и все совершенно правильно. Было трудно добраться до выключателя на стене, а потом до зеркала, не своротив по дороге всю мебель, но Стив справился. И вот он-то как раз и оказался гризли: с косматой, бурой в рыжину шкурой с серебристым отливом, небольшими округлыми ушами, широкой мордой, плоским лбом, изогнутыми когтями длиной дюймов в пять и куцым хвостом, которого было не разглядеть под шерстью.Он склонил голову набок, легко находя различия со зверем Баки — тот был остромордым, с лоснящейся, черной, как смоль, шерстью и не таким грузным на вид из-за более длинных ног. В памяти всплыли все те ночи, которые Стив — щуплый болезненный подросток — провел в коконе большого сильного тела, излучающего печной жар, пока Баки-медведь старательно служил ему одновременно матрацем, одеялом и грелкой. Ощущение фантомного зуда под кожей стремительно вернулось, и в следующий момент Стив уже сидел на полу, взъерошенный, ошеломленный и совершенно голый.Никто так никогда и не сумел ему объяснить, как же именно происходит превращение в сознательном возрасте: мама только целовала его в макушку, приговаривая, что это невозможно выразить словами, но однажды он непременно поймет сам. Баки, когда был помладше, говорил: «Это как будто тебе очень-очень щекотно сразу везде, даже в тех местах, где щекотно не бывает», а позже: «Это как тот миг, когда ты бежишь так быстро, что кажется — вот-вот выскочишь из собственной кожи». После этих слов он выглядел виноватым, потому что Стив не мог бегать, как он, и Стив больше не спрашивал. Но для Стива на всю оставшуюся жизнь единственным способом перекинуться так и осталась мысль о медведе Баки и резкий запах хвои в носу. -/- Честное слово, Стив перекинулся бы прямо сейчас и вез бы Баки на своей спине хоть до самого лагеря, если б был хоть немного уверен, что только что спасенный друг будет в состоянии удержаться на хребте не самого пригодного для езды существа. Баки не был. Да что там — подавляющее большинство бывших пленников Аццано были способны доковылять не дальше ближайшей канавы. Стив вздохнул, задрал голову — в просвет меж верхушек елей холодно подмигивали далекие звезды — и объявил привал. Они и так шли не останавливаясь больше восьми часов, а путь еще предстоял неблизкий.Почему-то вышло так, что командовать разбивкой временного пристанища пришлось тоже ему. Технику составили вокруг импровизированного лагеря, чтобы обеспечить хоть какую-то защиту. Самых выносливых и целых солдат поставили в караул, оставшиеся из последних сил развели костры и переместили тяжело раненых и ослабленных поближе к спасительному теплу. Стив, переходя от костра к костру и стараясь помочь хоть словом, хоть делом, замечал, что некоторые стягивали одежду и перекидывались — переносить лишения и боль, причиненные одному телу, в другом было немного легче. Когда Стив вернулся к тому месту, где оставил Баки в компании усача в смешном котелке, который подсказал, где искать друга, спасенные спали вповалку. Звериной сущностью усача был огромный волк, если котелок, сползший тому на ухо, был хоть каким-то ориентиром. Француз свернулся калачиком подле него, рядом на охапке сваленной одежды, порыкивая во сне, спали куница и кто-то вроде пантеры или пумы.Баки сидел немного в стороне, прислонившись к стволу дерева, на наспех набросанных на землю ветках свежесрубленного ельника, и медленно моргал, глядя в темноту перед собой.— Ты как? — тихо окликнул Стив, усаживаясь рядом и пристраивая щит так, чтоб до него легко было дотянуться.Баки повел головой так, словно она весила тонну. Стив плечом чувствовал, как его пробирает мелкая дрожь.— В порядке, — заученно-легко откликнулся он еще до того, как Стив закончил вопрос. Потом покосился на него, взъерошил давно не мытые волосы и сказал уже совсем другим голосом: — Все в порядке, сопляк. Цел, жить буду.Стив выдохнул чуть свободнее, легонько толкнув его плечом, и снял шлем.— Сам как? — Баки обшарил внимательным взглядом его порванную куртку и кое-где опаленную форму. — Точно не собираешься сдуваться?Стив тихонько фыркнул, помотав головой.— Точно. Хочешь услышать кое-что забавное?Баки приподнял бровь, и его взгляд сверкнул жадным жизнерадостным любопытством.— Ты все-таки перекинулся!?Стив расплылся в смущенной улыбке.— Гризли.— Сопля-я-як, — улыбка Баки ничем не отличалась от беззаботной бруклинской, — всегда знал, что внутри тебя больше, чем снаружи.Они говорили так, словно не расстались почти год назад, словно не вырвались только что из лап неминуемой смерти, но постепенно расстояние между репликами Баки увеличивалось, слова начали сталкиваться и наползать друг на друга так, что их уже было невозможно разобрать. И в конце концов он уткнулся в плечо Стива и еле слышно засопел, крепко обхватив себя руками в бесплодной попытке согреться. Стив торопливо стащил с себя сапоги, дышащую на ладан куртку и попугайский костюм Капитана Америки. Пропитывавший все вокруг запах хвои стремительно усиливался.В шкуре гризли было гораздо теплей, ночной холод чувствовался совсем по-другому. Стив поудобнее устроился у корней приютившего их дерева, осторожно подгреб Баки лапой поближе к себе, укутывая собой, словно одеялом, и замер, чутко прислушиваясь к окружающей их ночи и ровному дыханию Баки.Тот проснулся, когда небо на востоке только-только окрасилось бледно-розовым светом вступающей в свои права зари. Вздохнул. Вздрогнул. Попытался потянуться, уткнулся локтем в тяжелую лапу Стива и с трудом разлепил один глаз.— Значит, не приснилось, — резюмировал он, оглядев новое обличье Стива, который тихонько фыркнул в ответ.Баки протянул ладонь с грязными обломанными ногтями и осторожно коснулся его уха. Прикосновение отдавало легкой щекоткой, но потом пальцы нырнули дальше, погладили мягкий хрящ прямо за ухом, отчего по всему огромному телу Стива-гризли разлилась сладкая томительная истома. Баки улыбнулся. В утреннем свете еще сильнее бросалось в глаза то, насколько он был бледен и как исхудал, но он улыбался, и в этот короткий тихий миг покоя, принадлежавший только им двоим, Стиву не нужно было ничего большего.— Когда ты делал так мне, всегда работало, — пробормотал Баки, продолжая поглаживать чувствительный пятачок кожи за ухом.Стив зажмурился, вывалил язык, словно был дворовой собакой, а не гризли в четыреста фунтов весом, и улыбка Баки стала шире. Стив определенно мог жить с этим дальше. -/- На самом деле на фронте Воющие Коммандос перекидывались крайне редко. Их всегда посылали в самое пекло, где надо было постоянно быть начеку, постоянно быть готовыми сняться с места и отмахать шесть-восемь миль в любую сторону хоть днем, хоть посреди ночи. Стив помнил всего один раз, когда они перекинулись все одновременно. Ну, кроме Баки — тот все еще был сам не свой после плена, хотя и старался этого не показывать. Дум-Дум раздобыл где-то пару бутылок крепкого местного джина, а консервы в пайке оказались негодными. Полковник Филлипс нашел их в третьем часу ночи по разноголосому вою на поднимающуюся луну. Причем Стив даже в виде гризли умудрялся выглядеть смущенным и раскаивающимся, а Баки хихикал, пряча смешки в поднятом воротнике своего синего стеганого бушлата, и ворошил обугленным прутом прогорающие дрова. Собственно, «воющими» они стали как раз с той самой ночи.Они пережили весну, лето и осень сорок четвертого. Союзники наступали. Гитлер и ГИДРа сдавали позиции. Стив порой робко позволял себе надеяться, что может быть, может быть, они все-таки уцелеют в мясорубке, в которую превратилась охваченная войной Европа. А потом Баки упал.Стив плохо помнил следующие несколько недель и вспоминать не хотел. Убивать когтями и клыками оказалось куда легче, чем щитом, но боль и пустота, внезапно заполонившие все вокруг, не оставляли его и в медвежьей шкуре.Вынырнув из низко висящих облаков, он смотрел на раскинувшееся внизу нагромождение ледяных глыб и торосов и думал: «Совсем как Баки». А потом «Валькирия» коснулась поверхности, тяжело подпрыгнула и, скрежеща и разваливаясь на части, понеслась вперед. Стива швырнуло на приборную панель с такой силой, что затрещали ребра и потемнело в глазах. «Валькирия», постепенно замедляясь, скользила все дальше и дальше, острые льды, словно когти, рвали ее днище и крылья на части. В какой-то момент сквозь наплывающее беспамятство Стив ощутил, что она остановилась, замерла, вздрагивая жалобно скрипящим корпусом. Пахло гарью, снегом и было, вдруг ощутил он, ужасно холодно. Он вслепую нашарил щит и последним сознательным усилием притянул его к себе. «Валькирия» еще немного подрожала, а потом медленно и неумолимо поползла все дальше и дальше вниз… -/- Стив не удивился, что пустота и боль настигли его и в двадцать первом столетии. В конце концов, для него с гибели Баки прошло всего несколько месяцев. Стоило лишь Фьюри, его службистам и мозгоправам дать добро на возвращение Капитана Америка в строй и участие в инициативе «Мстители» и ненадолго оставить его в покое, как кошмары вернулись к Стиву, словно старые знакомые. Он был им даже рад: старых знакомых у него теперь осталось не так уж много. Мир изменился, и Стиву нехотя приходилось меняться под него. Терпкий запах хвои ни разу не будоражил его ноздрей с тех пор, как его достали изо льда. Ученых Щ.И.Т.а это беспокоило, Стив молчал, и они сами нашли множество оправданий: ПТСР, стресс и последствия глубокой заморозки. Стиву было все равно. Во всяком случае, до поры. До Вашингтона, покушения на Фьюри, моста, проекта «Озарение» и Баки.«Ты ведешь себя, словно одержимый», — говорил Сэм, косясь на него с неприкрытой тревогой, пока они метались по миру в поисках Баки. Если одержимость заключалась в том, чтобы вернуть себе самого дорогого в этой жизни человека, Стив не имел ничего против. Но Зимнего Солдата не зря называли призраком — последними следами, которые он оставил, были отпечатки тяжелых тактических ботинок на илистом берегу Потомака да примятая трава. После этого он растворился, словно его никогда и не существовало. Иногда, когда очередная зацепка приводила к очередному тупику, Стив думал, что, может быть, Баки так говорит с ним, может быть, просит дать ему время. В любом случае, Стив не смог бы остановиться.После того, как он услышал имя Баки от кого-то, кроме Сэма или Наташи, все покатилось по наклонной. Миссия в Лагосе обернулась катастрофой, подписание Заковианского договора превратилось в теракт, и, направляя джет в сторону Бухареста, Стив чувствовал себя так, словно весь мир дышал ему в спину, пытаясь добраться до Баки раньше него.Сэм держался настороже и бросал на него предупреждающие взгляды, но Стив освободил руку Баки из тисков пресса спустя пару минут. Тот благодарно улыбнулся из-под спутанных мокрых прядей. Им нужно было о стольком поговорить.— Нам нужно выбираться из города, пока его наглухо не перекрыли, — проворчал Сэм, прислушиваясь к шуму винтов кружащего неподалеку вертолета.Баки машинально чистил ногтями правой руки стыки между пластин на левой. Стив вздохнул.— Я видел неподалеку подходящую машину. -/- У Стива хватило сил только на то, чтобы поднять джет в воздух, проложить курс по оставленным Т'Чаллой координатам и включить автопилот. В отсек он возвращался на подкашивающихся ногах. Сидевший у стены Баки чуть шевельнул головой, реагируя на его приближение. Раскрытая, по-прежнему не тронутая аптечка так и лежала у него на коленях. Стив потянул застежку на воротнике униформы. Мышцы в самых разных частях тела протестующе взвыли в ответ даже на это простое движение.— Я сейчас помогу тебе, Бак, — сказал он, чувствуя, как в очередной раз лопается порез на щеке, — если перекинемся, то сможем нормально поспать.Губы Баки дрогнули.— Я не смогу, Стив. — Он осторожно вздохнул, придерживая уцелевшей рукой пострадавшие ребра. — Они что-то сделали со мной еще в Аццано — я не могу перекидываться сам. Русские иногда вытаскивали его наружу, но миссии проходили, — его губы поджались, — грязно…Стив с верхом костюма и футболкой в руках тяжело опустился на пол рядом с Баки и привалился головой к стене, ощущая затылком ровное гудение джета.— Ладно, — сказал он, когда глаза перестало жечь и он уверился, что совладает с голосом. — Тогда я. Тебе, по крайней мере, будет мягко.Он стащил с себя сапоги и штаны вместе с бельем. Где-то внутри кольнуло сомнением — он ведь не перекидывался пять лет, с тех пор, как его вытащили изо льда, — но ноздри уже щекотало знакомым запахом молодой хвои.— Иди сюда, — сказал он, перетекая в гризли и чувствуя облегчение от мгновенно отдалившейся боли. Баки несколько минут смотрел на него нечитаемым больным взглядом, и только когда медведь предупреждающе заворчал, аккуратно пересел поближе и осторожно привалился к нему спиной. Стив подавил желание прижать его к себе тяжелой лапой. Какое-то время в позе Баки чувствовалось напряжение, но усталость быстро взяла верх, и он обмяк, привалившись к боку гризли спиной и уронив голову. Стив втянул воздух: от Баки пахло кровью, порохом, потом, горечью горелой проводки, и все равно этот запах ассоциировался у него только с одним — с домом. -/- Решение вернуться в крио было последним, чего Стив ожидал от Баки.— Но… Коды же у меня. Земо держат в изоляции и вот-вот приговорят к смертной казни. Тебе ничего не угрожает.Баки, сидящий на кровати в предоставленных им королем Ваканды покоях, криво улыбнулся.— Я не за себя боюсь, Стив. Кто знает, сколько у ГИДРы еще таких книжечек.Стив сел на пол у его ног. В груди было тесно от нахлынувших эмоций. Он так надеялся, что теперь они наконец побудут вместе, поговорят без висящего на хвосте спецназа, ЦРУ и госсекретаря США, и он скажет то, что должен был сказать уже давно — еще в Бруклине, вероятно.— Я тоже не хочу снова оставлять тебя одного, сопляк, — тихо сказал Баки, и его улыбка сделалась больной и ломкой.— Так не оставляй. — Стив поднял голову, на миг ощутив себя прежним щуплым бруклинским мальчишкой, до одури влюбленным в своего лучшего друга. Он мягко коснулся волос Баки, отводя от лица непослушные пряди.Баки прикрыл глаза, веки его сделались тяжелыми. Стив осторожно коснулся ладонью его щеки, чувствуя, как трехдневная щетина щекочет кожу.— Позволь мне побыть с тобой, позволь, — он покраснел, чувствуя, как подводит голос, — любить...Пытливый взгляд Баки зашарил по лицу Стива, заставляя румянец переползать со щек на шею, грудь и ниже. Баки неуверенно поднял руку и, не отрывая глаз от Стива, накрыл ею все еще лежащую у него на щеке ладонь. Стив виновато улыбнулся.— Давно нужно было сказать.Он не сразу понял, зачем Баки наклоняется к нему, а поняв, потянулся навстречу, ловя его мягкие губы своими.— Я ничего не умею, только убивать, — сказал Баки, когда они отстранились друг от друга, — что я стану делать?Стив прижался своим лбом к его, приглаживая им самим растрепанные пряди.— Просто живи.Баки озадаченно нахмурился, словно никогда не думал о такой возможности, и Стив, не удержавшись, снова его поцеловал. -/- На то, чтобы вытащить ребят из плавучей тюрьмы под носом у Росса, ушло несколько месяцев тщательной подготовки и сосредоточенного планирования, но в конце концов у Стива получилось, и в Ваканду он возвращался совершенно довольный.Стояло раннее утро. Стив скинул обувь у порога и, неслышно ступая, направился в сторону спальни. В широкие окна со скругленными углами лился мягкий солнечный свет, украшая простое убранство теплыми мазками. Одеяла и простыни на широкой постели были сбиты, подушки сброшены на пол, словно кто-то долго ворочался, не в силах заснуть, и Стив даже не сразу понял, что она пуста.Он нахмурился, моментально встревожившись, а потом то, что он принял за гору подушек на полу, вздохнуло, облизывая морду длинным розовым языком, и Стив разом узнал знакомые с детства очертания большого медвежьего тела. Левая передняя лапа была на месте, вот только шерсть на ней теперь была совсем белой.— Баки, — выдохнул Стив, забыв, что не собирался его будить.Медведь приоткрыл один глаз, совершенно того же удивительного оттенка серого и голубого, который Стив помнил, и издал тихий довольный вздох. Шерсть, как не замедлил выяснить Стив, на ощупь была такой же гладкой и лоснящейся, как раньше. Баки довольно задышал, когда Стив погладил его обеими руками, гармошкой собирая шкуру в районе холки и разглаживая ее обратно.— Если бы ты знал, как я скучал! — вырвалось у него. Язык Баки немедленно проехался по его лицу от подбородка до лба, тяжелая лапа повалила на пол и подгребла к себе, а следом ему в ухо ткнулся мокрый холодный нос.— Да, я знаю, что ты тоже. — Стив похлопал его по лапе, щурясь, когда Баки принялся вылизывать ему лицо. Когда Баки отстранился, он открыл глаза, снизу вверх глядя на знакомую лобастую морду. Светлый оттенок шерсти на носу, какой был у всех барибалов, практически не изменился. Стив коснулся его рукой, поглаживая спинку широкого носа. Баки довольно вывалил язык, охотно подставляя морду и подаваясь навстречу движениям.— Теперь ты похож на белого, — сказал Стив.Баки презрительно фыркнул и подтолкнул его руку. Стив с удовольствием подчинился, вдыхая родной и знакомый запах.— Знаешь, — тихо сказал он некоторое время спустя, по-прежнему поглаживая широкую переносицу зверя и теребя другой рукой треугольное ухо, — у твоей породы есть родственники — кермодские медведи. Небольшая часть популяции от природы белая. Индейцы называют таких «медведь-призрак».Устроив тяжелую голову на плече у Стива, Баки покосился на него, облизнулся и мазнул носом по виску.— Да, мне тоже нравится.За окном вовсю горланили чудные местные птицы, поднимающееся все выше солнце начало по-настоящему припекать, и на потолке бесшумно заработал кондиционер. Баки довольно встопорщил шерсть, а Стив почувствовал, как по коже побежали мурашки.— Как ты думаешь, — задумчиво спросил он, одной рукой расстегивая ремень и пальцами ног стаскивая носки, — здешние перекрытия нас обоих выдержат?Баки уверенно фыркнул, ероша волосы у него на макушке.— Вот и я так думаю, — согласился Стив, снимая джинсы.Ноздри щекотал терпкий запах молодой хвои.
10300874	shot of espresso	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Bonnie Bennett, Lorenzo \"Enzo\" St. John", "Fandom": "The Vampire Diaries (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by TheSushiMonster", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-14T00:00:00", "words": "452", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Bonnie Bennett/Lorenzo \"Enzo\" St. John", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "you and i", "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 }	Enzo’s day has been crap. And it’s not even 9am. His alarm clock broke, because of course, so he rushed to shower and get ready for work - and a 9am meeting. After getting home late from work last night, he hadn’t had time to clean up the kitchen, or the coffee pot, or make lunch. So he curses loudly, having to rush back to his apartment after getting into his car to grab the bag with his presentation notes; he ends up locking his keys in his car, has to run back to his apartment to grab the spare keys, and finally, finally heads straight for the coffee shop on his way to work. It’s 8:30 and the line is massive. Almost out the door. It only takes him 10 minutes to get to work from here, so hopefully this doesn’t take longer than 20 minutes - At 8:45, he’s almost to the register. There’s a woman in front of him, ordering a latte with a shot of espresso, but she can’t find her wallet in her massive bag. Enzo taps his foot, but the woman keeps rummaging, so he sighs and gently pushes forward. “Here, this one’s on me.” He hands over his card to the cashier and nods to the woman. “I’ll just take a grande french vanilla, black.” “You didn’t have to do that,” says the woman, pushing her strap back onto her shoulder. “I can pay for it myself.” The two move towards the waiting area. Enzo shakes his head. “Don’t worry about. To be honest, I’m just running late.” The woman smiles. “Well, thank you…” she trails off, eyebrows raised. “Enzo,” he says, offering a hand. “And no problem.” She smiles, brightly, and takes it. “Bonnie.” Enzo crosses his arms over his chest and leans against a wall as he waits. Bonnie stares at him. “What?” She shakes his head. “I feel bad. How about I give you my number and I can make it up to you sometime?” In the back of his mind, he likely registers that she’s asking him out on a date. But he’s worried about being late and she’s a little too pretty to let his brain work properly, so Enzo quickly nods and hands over his phone. “Great!” She says, a small smile. Their orders are called and she retrieves them both. As Bonnie hands over his drink, their fingers brush. For a second, Enzo forgets that he’s going to be very late, and instead notes that her eyes are very green. But then she blinks and smiles and he shakes his head. “Thanks again, Enzo.” “Right. Anytime.” And she leaves. And, eventually, he realizes he needs to leave too.
10395957	HP See You	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Tom Riddle \| Voldemort, Portrait Hermione Granger, Portrait James Potter - Character, Lily Evans Potter", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "中文-普通话國語", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Art_y_an (orphan_account)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-21T00:00:00", "words": "7,747", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Normal High School, And Now For Something Completely Different, They fell in love but left each other, Songfic, Out of Character", "Relationship": "Harry Potter/Tom Riddle", "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 }	在值勤時遇見過去的熟人難免尷尬，尤其是在給對方違規臨停的車子夾上小黃單的時候。儘管當下Ron也只是聳聳肩將罰單摘了下來，甚至向糾結到已經僵在一旁的Harry自嘲「這已經是這星期第四張了」。附帶一提，今天是星期三。兩人聊了些關於天氣的話題之後，天空下起了綿綿細雨，用公事包堪堪擋住頭的紅髮青年向他喊了一句「明晚七點，城西酒吧！」便揮手示意，上車走了。中學後一兩年大家還有聯絡的時候，一向聰敏且具有改變世界的企圖心的Hermione理所當然在畢業前就收到了大學錄取，但誰也沒想到，總是有些膽小的Ron在無法聯繫數月後，竟也跟上了她的腳步當上了大學生，事後與兩人最親近的Harry面對七嘴八舌只能乾巴巴歸咎成一句：「可能這就是愛的力量吧？」他在離了相處六年的好友後確實一度不知道自己該何去何從，幸而他還有那總是過於孩子氣的父親與有著理智的溫柔的母親，不至於淪落Mark Renton那種多愁善感卻又不斷放縱自我的窘境。在磕磕絆絆間，印了某人曾說過的戲語，有著「不願意遵守命令的勇氣」以及「超乎常人的魯莽」的Harry Potter去考了警校，順利結訓拿到執照，從交警的基礎工作幹起。然後？就沒有然後了。他們各自都有了自己的生活圈，每周一通的熱線，變成一個月，變成特殊節日才有的限量版訊息，變成被壓在抽屜深處的新年賀卡，變成心中除了生活瑣事之外偶爾才會回憶起的那塊閃閃動人的、每刻彷彿都被鍍金的、每個人都渴望回歸的溫暖片段。也許，僅僅是也許，人生的某些時刻就專屬於某些可能永遠不會再見上一面的人吧？像那些終究會流逝的青春。當他剛坐上吧檯椅時，匆匆脫下淌水大衣的Ron正用著堪比十年級時碎念著他們的Hermione的語速埋怨著外頭忽然傾盆而至的大雨，順便解釋了下選擇周四晚上是因為星期五有Weasley一家共進晚餐的習慣。「──你知道的，如果沒到我媽肯定又會嘮叨著『食物早在一周前就準備好了！』、『為什麼不叫Harry一塊兒來呢？噢，那瘦巴巴的小可憐！』…」熟稔的向酒保比了個彼此都懂的手勢，亦趨成熟的青年笑起那張雀斑不復的面容，一時之間讓Harry感覺有點陌生，但那杯看起來更像果汁的Screwdriver立刻讓這種錯覺消失無蹤。活絡的閒聊之間Harry也嘗試了幾種他不太熟悉的調酒，最後在那杯Tequila Sunrise被推到面前時，混著喝的他已經有些茫了。現場演唱的酒吧不算安靜，但當他看見那在橙光下看來就像沉落地平面的太陽般的顏色時，不顧還捧著開始那杯早退冰「橙汁」──據說在大學的新生歡迎會上喝癱的Ron做了什麼，以致於Hermione見不得他喝酒，每每嗅到點酒味就冷戰──的Ron的勸阻，他執意留下這杯酒。Harry想來也知道這樣子的自己在旁人眼中看來肯定很蠢，不過那種金紅色就像是他中學時期宿舍的房間配置，那種自由奔放的、張揚跋扈的、像是要將所有人目光聚集在自己身上的亮色系就像是在述說著每個人都有的那麼一段年少歲月。他無法不沉浸於那種暫時的青春召喚，儘管Harry就像所有曾經度過十七歲的少年一樣，人生中除了啤酒、檸檬與菩提樹下的漫步外，更多的是些狗屁倒灶的麻煩事。例如…「Hey，老弟，你現在沒有處一塊的對象嗎？」在如此悠哉的氣氛下，這樣的一句話算不上突兀，尤其他倆又是認識了十年的交情，但從那不自然的停頓Harry就知道這傢伙還是像以前一樣不擅長撒謊──好吧，嚴格說來也不能說是說謊，不過這種嫻熟的套話技巧，肯定來自他那慧黠的女朋友。「沒有，怎麼，Hermione要介紹對象給我嗎？」開玩笑地眨眨眼，他果不其然得到了一張苦瓜臉。「…這真的不是我的主意，Mione她向來把你當弟弟看待，聽到你現在在當警察就擔心你作息不穩定、也不知道有沒有人能好好管管你的身體，我就說她總是太雞婆了，而且這種問題肯定會被一眼看穿…」Ron翻白眼發著牢騷，儼然沒有上回穿西裝看來得講究以及菁英，但這樣的青年才最是Harry喜歡的那個模樣，像他們兩個都還是那在圖書館裡偷吃Jelly Beans然後被怪口味弄得笑出聲來的少年。臉上帶著笑意聽好友細數著小倆口間令人哭笑不得的趣事，酒勁上頭的他不知不覺走神了，湖綠色的眼珠子緊盯著杯中與自己截然不同的鮮豔色彩。說實話，Harry認為這更該命名為「日落」，因為隨著時間與液面下降，象徵遙遠火球的紅終究會褪去、像是太陽墜入遙遠的海平面，夜晚已無聲降臨，徒生某種空虛惆悵。 Harry討厭夜晚，討厭天色漸暗的冷意，討厭被既定的「晚上就要睡覺」邏輯綑綁，討厭像要把所有美的、善的、光明的事物吞蝕殆盡的黑；但如此討厭夜的Harry，在明文規定學生該參與社團活動的校制下，選擇了天文社。當初選擇會選擇這當然不是因為Harry想要克服自己的心理障礙。原因很簡單，倫敦雨多，天文社主要的觀星活動自然少，於是不像Ron有西洋棋喜好或Hermione熱愛學習──數學研究社和文學社，你知道的──的他就揀了一個自認為最輕鬆的交差。後見之明，那可以稱上他人生中做過最錯誤也是最正確的決定之一。那個選擇確實很輕鬆，沒有太多觀測，沒有太多社團事務，沒有太多聯誼活動或成果發表，因為天文社只有兩名社員。嗯，加上Harry共兩個人。至於另外一個人…另一個人…感覺自己腦子像被攪成爛泥般混沌的Harry放棄了思考，斷片的思緒像是嘎然而止的特寫鏡頭，讓他在短暫的沉默後被周遭雜亂的談笑聲與氣味砸醒，恍如隔世的他轉過頭來，恰巧對上了面帶憂慮的Ron。來者的欲言又止讓他頓時心生某種不耐，他們畢竟不是為了解決彼此的感情問題而來，為什麼就不能像一般久久不見的好友就這樣坐下來，好好說些垃圾話、消磨些未來他們回想就會益發珍惜的時間？「…Mione以前說的時候我還以為是她想太多了，但是現在看來我才發現她是對的…」聞言，當Harry在心裡不免咕噥著「是的，我知道，Hermione總是對的blablabla」時，紅髮青年的一席話不禁讓他錯愕的落下了手中的長杓。鐵製餐具撞擊在玻璃杯內壁的聲響在人聲嘈雜的酒吧中並不明顯，但那清脆的音符就像一桶冷水如此清晰、犀利、直接的敲進了他心中那塊被掩藏在黑暗中的部分。Harry怔怔望著因為晃動而混雜成一塊的調酒，失去純粹原色的液體不再有著光照般的清新或者太陽本身的明豔，葡萄柚般的橘紅色看來就像暴風雨前夕的璀麗餘暉。「Mione覺得你愛上了Riddle學長，不管你承不承認。」Ron是這麼說的。 Tom Riddle.當Harry推開天文社的社團辦公室──他至今仍沒理解為什麼學校願意撥出空間給只有兩個人的社團──的門時，他看著裏頭坐在桌上擦著儀器的俊秀少年時，心裡僅僅出現了對方的名字，不多不少、不增不減。那天的天氣還算不錯，傍晚的光從那個人身後虛掩的百葉窗夾縫掙扎的闖了進來，逆著無法被確切歸類在八位元的光，那雙生來就黯如靜夜的眼眸看來又更加深不見底。然後他放下了手中的鏡筒，起身走到了Harry面前。當他笑的時候，那種感覺難以一語言盡，真要說的話，你就像聽見花開的聲音，即便你根本從不知道那是什麼。接著，Harry聽見他說：「歡迎來到天文社，你的名字是？」 Harry糊里糊塗的就在這個本來只是名目需求的社團待了下來，儘管他很早就告知了那位風靡全校的學長自己其實對於星星毫無興趣，但對方對此也沒有什麼具體的表態，只是平平淡淡──像是傳聞說的那樣溫文儒雅的──點了頭，順帶貼心的表示如果作業有疑問可以帶來問他。這令Harry不解，因為在他的第一印象，這個人不該是這樣的。是了，當Riddle逆著光朝他走來時，Harry直視著那雙烏黑的眼睛，就像被扯入了他最討厭的夜晚，在那樣像是黑洞沒有任何光芒可以透出分毫的眼神裡，他直覺感到了危險想要望後轉走人，但是藏在夜黑之後的東西卻讓他更加好奇。出於某種Potters才懂的冒險精神，Harry想要證明受眾人仰慕的Tom Riddle也許並不完美，少年人沒來由的惡作劇心思讓他想要把這人從神壇上拉下來。於是他留了下來，按對方說的將課題帶來寫，日復一日，像那人總是捧著自己的望遠鏡。一開始，Harry感覺Riddle在裝──事後證明，他猜得一點也沒錯──裝做一個善解人意的、才華洋溢卻不傲慢的、舉手投足都招人崇拜的學長，即便他並沒有找到什麼驅使這個人做出這種吃力不討好的行為的來由，不過由於兩個人共享幾坪大的空間的確很舒適，或站或坐或臥彼此都不會打攪到對方，尤其不需要像在圖書館裡，屈居於對正在抽高的青少年來說過於逼仄的位置、連起身都得小心翼翼抬高椅子免得在地面刮出引人注目的噪音；所以在觀察幾日確定Riddle習慣性待著的位置後，Harry也順理成章佔據了另外一半的空間。每天午後到晚餐前的時間，他們就一個坐在桌上組裝儀器、偶爾架著望遠鏡把開窗戶觀察天體，另一個就寫著自己總是積到最後關頭的作業、某些時候提個問題；更多時候他們都是沉默的各做各事，直到某個瞬間意識到這個房間還有其他人瞟去幾眼，隨後又安然的重新沉溺於那種不會引起刺蝟效應的距離與靜謐。和總是坐沒坐相將大半個身子趴上桌面寫字的Harry不同，等他下課來報到時，Riddle總是坐在離門最近的那邊的桌沿──每天的位置都精準得像尺量過一般──像個無冕之王般慢條斯理的用特製的絨布像撫摸活物般優雅的擦拭著機具，見他來了就挑起一個標準得找不到瑕疵的笑，相較於歡迎的意思，Harry感覺那更像用禮貌堆砌而成的疏離。而從他人口中得知這人是多麼高貴、多麼優秀、多麼親和的Harry並不明白，為什麼這麼「好」的一個人不願意別人碰觸他的內心？唯一的可能是，Tom Riddle從來就沒有那麼「好」吧？嚴格說來，Harry並不真的同他那惹禍精父親與教父一樣喜歡招惹是非，Lily教導他的也讓他在求學歷程上不至於會讓自己身陷難以脫身的窘境，因此儘管有許多想要知道的、想要深入探索的、想要一窺究竟的，他的一線理智總會讓他在安全線上駐足，像他在邊上靜待Riddle面具產生崩裂的一天。兩人的關係真正產生變化是在那年的冬季假期。當時正努力適應寄宿生涯的Harry給家裡打個電話決定留下來過一個家族之外的聖誕節，毫不意外的聽到了話筒另外一端James和Sirius兩個長不大的小孩的哀號，但在Lily溫和理性的贊同語氣下，Harry堅定這個想法的掛上了電話，決定將自己整個長假都耗在床上和交誼廳的壁爐前──這當然是Lily不知道的。而在假期正式開始的那天，咬牙切齒想將上了鎖的壁爐盯出個洞的Harry只能攏緊身上的厚外套，循著三個月來已經熟悉不過的路徑，走到那個高樓上最適合觀察天象的空教室。當他邊抱怨著天氣怎麼冷成這副德性邊扭開門時，房裡的人和房外的他都愣了一下，顯然就算是料事如神的Tom Riddle也沒想過對社務沒有上過心的小學弟會在這個時間點出現，難得外顯的情緒讓為此等候已久的Harry腦中浮現一個斗大的「Gotcha!」，忍不住笑了出來。令人意外的，黑髮少年沒有表現惱怒或立刻掩飾性的回復往常的無害笑容，微彎的嘴角似笑非笑，那雙在陰影襯托下看來狹長的眼睛直勾勾盯著他，像是蟄伏在陰暗巢穴中的掠食動物，然而那又不全然是惡意，反倒像是一種賴以生存的本能所驅的習性。就當兩人之間的沉默快要形成某種具像的冰壁時，Riddle起了身，向Harry作了一個「過來」的手勢，不待他反應就逕自走到了窗前。前夜剛下過雪，將中世紀石磚地上通體的白被得來不易的艷陽高照映得閃耀無比，難得清晰的灰色天空透出了點藍，在幾個標的性建築之上就像被切開的奔流。站在高挑少年身旁的Harry見柔和的光芒落在那被上天恩賜的俊美面容，墨一般的眼瞳在奇蹟似的陽光照耀下看來就像被鑲上了金圈，少女們夢中渴望親吻的嘴唇一開一闔，抬起的蒼白而修長的手畫過一道像是彗尾的拋物線，直指著不可知的遠方的巨大發光體。他記得那個人說，既然你不喜歡星星，那我們就從太陽說起吧。打從那天起，Harry和這位高嶺之花學長不再像恰巧在同時間點搭上同班車的通勤族的關係，Riddle開始告訴他基礎的天文學知識，但往往止步於夕陽沉落於天邊，夜晚的黑像是陰冷的空氣侵蝕人的體感前。「那你不就像是《一千零一夜》裡的蘇丹？」那陣子在研究阿拔斯王朝的Hermione開了一個文學渣聽不懂的玩笑，又見兩個男孩面面相覷，無奈之餘只好解釋了故事的概梗。「Oh, man,你會愛上那個Riddle學長嗎？」沒成想自己說明了十分鐘的經典作品被記得的只有最不重要的愛情片段，Hermione不禁誇張的嘆了口氣，只見Ron帶有驚愕的表情異常的認真，她簡直無法克制住用手中重達兩公斤的微積分精裝本重擊這小蠢貨的腦子的衝動。「你在胡扯什麼鬼？Riddle學長是個男的好嗎？」即便當下反射性地反駁了，Harry知道某些東西隱隱在改變，但他暫且不想去深思。那時他正處恣意任性的十五歲，還不知道世界究竟有多大，生活周遭的一切就足以構成他的整個世界。例如當年十七歲的Tom Riddle和那間敞開窗戶時會吹進和煦夜風的社團教室。縱使Ronald Weasley在多數的情況下是個情感遲鈍到令人髮指的人──你看他和萬事通女孩相處時的呆頭呆腦就能窺見一二──但對於自己好兄弟的事，他倒是說對了一半。只對了一半，因為先做出表示的並不是他。而他從頭到尾，都沒有執迷於那些關於「喜歡」或「愛」之類過於抽象的辭令。事實上，Harry對這樣的發展興許早就從對方對自己剝落的萬人迷光環、日漸尖酸刻薄的用詞與專注得彷彿要把他的影像烙在視網膜上的目光察覺出來，不過當Riddle真正帶著那半真半假的語氣說出曖昧的字眼時，望著在燈光下就像閃爍著漫天繁星的夜空的玄眸，他感覺心臟靜止了一秒鐘。就一秒鐘，不能、不可、不想再多了。「罷了，像你這種運動神經比腦神經傳輸速度還快的傢伙肯定聽不出那是個笑話吧？」在像厚重濕氣般令人難耐的沉默下，已經長成青年的黑髮學子綻放出溫婉的微笑，那笑像是看似輕柔雲霏般悠然。不過Harry知道，那同樣如月影掩實了那人眼底原本的星光燦然。不若以往和這人唇槍舌劍的妙語如珠，莫名所以地，那句簡單的「不是如你所想」就像是三月的積雨雲哽在他的喉頭，無法動彈。Riddle彷彿毫不介意先前的小插曲，和他侃侃而談起星座之王獵戶座，以及這個季節看不見的天蠍座。那天夜裡的倫敦下起雨來，攥著濕意的風打亂滿室暖意，一股冷意從肌膚直滲入Harry底心。而在那之後，一向以「無畏」為名的年輕Potter再也沒有勇氣走入那方天地。就算是那個自從入學就備受關注的Tom Riddle畢業的時候。就算他們曾經只剩下一個吻的距離。在Harry畢業典禮前，他已然不復年少時的莽撞，鳥窩似的蓬亂頭髮在那個年紀被冠上了「有個性」的標籤，令人屏息的翠綠眼眸因隱形眼鏡看來像是波光蕩漾的夏季湖泊，特立獨行的小怪胎在幾年間一躍而成能讓女孩們吃吃傻笑的「Cool Kids」，次文化盛行的年代，他的冷淡孤僻卻是炙手可熱的帥氣代表。唯有離得近的人才知道，那些沉澱下來的不是沉穩內斂，而是後青春的疼痛。Hermione也是醜小鴨的典型案例，她的知識終究在努力不懈下收斂成裹著溫和光芒的智慧，儘管在畢業季常為了申請事宜忙得神龍見首不見尾，但仍敏銳得一眼就能看穿那些在他身上那些逝去的、和沒逝去的珍貴事物。「你應該在離開這裡之前多走走的，Harry。」簡單妝容下便看來熠熠生輝的女孩正處大好年華，乾淨整齊的裙裝一掃過往的陰鬱形象，知性與感性的美好薈萃於充滿自信的大眼，而那份關心純粹得讓Harry不忍忽視，只能不置可否的抿了一口茶。「別讓自己後悔。」於是在一個晨光滿溢生冷的走廊、無法再用「實在太冷了，回去吧」的藉口說服自己的時刻，他像那個曾經張狂的少年，強按下心尖的顫動轉開了那扇門。無盡遠的光從敞開的窗櫺灑落滿幢樓，從未如此明亮的陽光毫無障礙的直照他的臉，脆弱的瞳孔為此生理性的緊縮成一個圓，下意識地落在了某個點。然後像是被那過於灼熱的強光燙傷，Harry像受傷的野獸在門口蹲下蜷起身子，他將臉按入膝間、彷彿就此可以降低那道像在心上剜剮的痛楚。當然了，他口齒不清的對自己說道，當然了。一本邊角鑲著金框的黑皮筆記本就待在那個人習慣坐著的位置，分毫不差，上頭被鏡筒壓著的白色標籤紙已經泛黃： I wanna know will I see you again When will I see you again Harry在中學畢業後，渾渾噩噩的待在家一陣子。Hermione按原計畫上了國際知名的老牌大學，幸而只是後知後覺而非不知不覺的Ron隨後也終於找到了人生的目的，就是她。前Evans的Mrs. Potter第一個從獨子隱密藏在枕頭套內的日記本看出了端倪，向草率從親子書刊上抄襲了滿腹說詞的James Potter擺了擺手，讓他和另一廂還在囫圇吞棗《畢業即失業？年輕的你不得不知道的軟實力》的多年摯友別趕著撞槍口，有些青春花火燃燒過後的餘燼太燙手，若不待它好好冷卻就急著粉飾太平、必然會在心頭最柔軟的那部份印上一圈狼狽至極的燙疤。然後在某個平凡的陰雨天，自我幽閉兩個月之後的Harry Potter終於踏出了房門。當時偽作無恙的Mr. Potter將前一秒才拿起的日報不小心擰破了一角，而正在煎鍋前忙著料理全家人早點的Lily Potter從廚房探出身子向他道聲「早，親愛的」，自然不過的樣態像是小學的他準備要去上課。眼窩一片烏青色、頭髮和鬍渣長得亂七八糟的Harry並沒有錯失那雙和自己最為相似的眼睛尾處的薰紅，於是他上前擁抱了那個生他育他的女子，直到對方笑中帶淚的推開他說「好了好了，鬆餅都焦了」。而在路過情緒也十分激動卻還在裝腔作勢的James時，心裡有些小心思的Harry也不揭穿對方，只是悠悠的拋下一句「你還沒老到會把報紙拿倒，Dad」就快步走進浴室，聽外頭的鬼哭神號捧腹大笑。後來就像所有和他同齡的人一樣，他找了一份看起來還算適合他的工作，談了幾段還算適合他的戀愛，和幾個還算適合他的女孩好聚好散或不歡而散，分期付款買了還算適合他的車房，等待牽起一個還算適合陪他走過一生的人。然後就到了現在。一個多年不見的好友，一個以情感白癡著名的好友篤定的說，他始終深愛著那個人。夜深的酒吧人逐漸多了起來，從那些嫌不夠張揚的嬉笑誚罵不難猜測多是年輕人，而已經無法被冠上那個稱呼的Harry疲憊的望向Ron，他並不想針對對方，但要他贊同更是不可能的事。他花了和那本日記本一樣頁數的時日悼念自己從未發生的戀情，就是不希望在多年之後，狼狽如斯的自己還在貪戀那些無法復返的過往。Harry只是衝動，不是沒有腦子，他不需要被一再提醒自己過去的愚蠢。「Hey, handsome,」幾個穿著短裙的女孩圍了過來，早過了不諳世事的年紀的Harry明白對方正在亟欲索求、炫耀、表現自己的年紀，有位能予取予求的Sugar Daddy未嘗不是筆合算的交易，而過了某些歲數的老男人更是好下手的物件，他們總是迷戀著和美好事物相處、自己好似也年輕不少的錯覺。但那可不會是Harry，他痛恨所有跟青春有關的事物，就像夜晚一樣。拉著面對穿著暴露的少女們已經面紅耳赤的Ron，Harry勉強撐起精神付了帳便踉蹌的拖著好友想要盡快走出這個是非之地，否則被這些肉食女子盯上就全然無屍骨存留之處了。「Harry,你不打個車嗎？或是我送你回去？」擔心他還沒走幾步就被暗巷蓄勢待發的混混攔個正著，紅髮青年在關上車門前又問了一句，理所當然收到了第五次的「不，我是個條子，我能保護好自己」。目送了Ron那輛小房車的車尾燈離去，任視覺暫留的殘影在片刻後消失的Harry才動腳往地鐵站走去。迎面吹來的風還有著水氣的味道，打在地上的分不清是月光或者是路燈，但他知道無論是哪種都是嚴重的光害，觀星者的重傷。不抱持任何期待的他抬起頭來，只見三顆亮星異常鮮明的連在一起，像是個奢華的鑽石耳環。向上延伸成一個四邊形…向下畫出一個梯形…情不自禁的，Harry伸出手來比劃著，彷彿整個虛空都是他可以企及的畫布，他的視野因醉意充滿著疊影，但什麼也無法抹滅記憶裡的清晰星空。「Orion…」他喃喃自語，聲音輕得就像那時候他未能說出口的「I’m sorry.」。 I'll pick up the heart that you left on the floor On the floor 「身為最後一任天文社社長，我很高興你還記得我教過你的唯一一個星座。」那句話打破風的絮語時，Harry以為他已經因為這份過勞職業產生了幻聽。不是因為他已經遺忘那個人總像是在你耳畔低語的微啞聲線，而是在和失望為鄰多年之後，他已經沒有足夠的勇氣投入那些過於理想的期待。理想是和平的，歷史是殘忍的。Harry告誡式的對自己呢喃，惹來身後的人一聲毫不遮掩的嘲笑。「我還沒來得及教你完整的四季星空呢，要學嗎？」那個人在溫柔的澄光下站著，眼尾的歲月痕跡因為那樣子無保留的笑而暴露得毫無隱私。那個人沒有再多說些什麼，像當年等待著他回復的那句戲言，黑色的眸子如少年時期般映滿星光般的亮點。Harry Potter從未見過這樣子的，不再風華正茂的Tom Riddle。但他感覺，他為此已經等待許久。 I could put a little stardust in your eyes Put a little sunshine in your life Give me a little hug you'll feel the same And I wanna know will I see you again Will I see you again 我可以灑下魔法星塵，為你實現一切美妙浪漫的遐想亦可為你提供養分，成為你生命中僅存的陽光只要尚存一息，我們就能不顧一切、堅持下去而我只想知道，我們還有機會重新邂逅一遍嗎？還有重逢的機會嗎？ Harry以為，他只是在等一個恰巧的時機和有著恰巧年紀的恰巧的人。最後兜兜繞繞，他發現他想要的未來從來只有一個，而那正是恰巧有著Tom Riddle的未來。 Fin.注解英國禁止停車標誌是黃色的，違規停車的罰單也使用外頭有鮮明黃色底色、黑色粗體字的塑膠袋裝著(可能是避免雨濕吧？)Mark "Rent Boy" Renton，英國電影〈Trainspotting(1996)〉的主角，有嚴重的海洛因毒癮，個性內斂卻又充滿許多獨特的哲學觀與想法。因其類存在主義般的鮮明性格，使這角色成為了許多地下非主流社團成員心目中的英雄人物Screwdriver，伏特加與柳橙汁混和的調酒，通常是初學者與女性的愛好Tequila Sunrise，龍舌蘭、柳橙汁與紅石榴糖漿混和的調酒，直譯是「龍舌蘭日出」，而將柳橙汁換作檸檬汁的另一種調酒則是「Tequila Sunset龍舌蘭日落」Arthur Rimbaud〈Roman〉 On n'est pas sérieux, quand on a dix-sept ans. 當你十七歲時，用不著正正經經的。 — Un beau soir, foin des bocks et de la limonade, ──一個美好的黃昏，啤酒與檸檬， Des cafés tapageurs aux lustres éclatants ! 在明亮的吊燈，喧鬧的咖啡廳裡。 — On va sous les tilleuls verts de la promenade. ──你在綠色菩提樹下漫步。刺蝟效應的由來是兩隻刺蝟因寒冷而擁抱，卻因彼此長著刺又分開，但在寒冷之下又擁抱。分合幾次，刺蝟們才找到「合適的距離」能獲得對方溫暖，又不至被傷害。衍生的理論主要是指人際交往中的「心理距離效應」Orion，星座之王獵戶座
10320923	The Gameplan	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Jack Zimmermann, Eric Bittle, Georgia Martin, Suzanne Bittle, Coach Bittle, Alicia Zimmermann, Bob Zimmermann, Samwell Men's Hockey Team, Providence Falconers (Ensemble)", "Fandom": "Check Please! (Webcomic)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by bellagerantalii", "chapters": "3/3", "completed": "2017-03-29", "published": "2017-03-16T00:00:00", "words": "28,750", "Additional Tags": "POV Jack, Coming Out, Homophobia, Team as Family, Angst with a Happy Ending", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Eric Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, Jack Zimmermann & Providence Falconers (Ensemble), Eric Bittle & Samwell Men's Hockey Team, Jack Zimmermann & Samwell Men's Hockey Team", "Series": "The Gameplan 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 }	They have a plan. Jack likes plans. Plans are good, especially for something important. The plan goes something like this:…. ….Actually, they don’t have a plan. Yet.….It’s December of Bitty’s senior year, and Jack has lured him down to Providence for the weekend. Well, maybe not lured. Jack rarely has to lure Bitty anywhere. Bitty almost always comes down on those precious few weekends where their schedules align. Bitty cooks, and Jack makes sure he gets some of his homework done free from the distractions of the Haus. Of course they do… other things, but that’s really not anyone’s business. This weekend, though, marks the end of Bitty’s finals, and he’s staying with Jack for an entire week before he heads back to Georgia. Jack has one away game, but luckily enough it’s an afternoon game against the Bruins. He comes home the first Saturday of Bitty’s stay to an apartment that smells like pot roast and gingerbread. He still has two home games that week, but Bitty comes to both and sits in the wives and girlfriends section of the arena, chatting happily with Marty and Thirdy’s wives and somehow managing to keep at least three children attached to him at all times.It’s better than Jack could ever have hoped for, even if they can’t come out to the broader world yet. Bitty isn’t even out to his parents, and Jack refuses to do anything while Bits is still in college. If Jack’s honest with himself, he may also want to get a cup under his belt, too.In the meantime, Jack’s perfectly happy to chop vegetables while Bits talks about his finals, about baking Christmas cookies with his mama, about how Dex has fixed nearly every single appliance in the Haus, and about Beyonce’s upcoming tour.“Are you excited for your last semester at Samwell?” Jack asks, pushing the cutting board full of vegetables in Bits’ direction.“I still have so much to do! I have to make sure Dex and Nursey don’t tear the Haus apart, Chowder still has to be taught how to feed frogs, and I have still not succeeded in torching that disgusting couch, if you can believe it. With all of that, I don’t know where I’m going to find the time to write my thesis,” Bittle replies, smiling up at Jack and anticipating the inevitable chirps about his procrastination. Jack chuckles. “Think you’ll have time to apply for jobs with all of that?”Bittle looks stricken.“Have you even thought about it?” Jack asks, but he smiles while he does it, because he knows Bittle has, even if he’s actively avoiding filling out applications.“Yes! I mean… I don’t know what I’m going to do with an American Studies degree, so I don’t even know where to begin.”Jack leans back against the counter as Bits adds the vegetables to the pot of low-fat chicken stock he’s been working on. “Have you thought about where you’d want to be, city or state wise?”Bits looks up, and blushes.“Well I… I don’t think I want to go back to Georgia, but… What are you asking me, Mr. Zimmerman?”“I’m asking if you were considering Providence. I’m asking if you… Do you want to move in with me?”Bitty’s face lights up. He makes the high-pitched sound that means he’s thrilled and then he leaps into Jack’s arms.“I take it that’s a yes, then?” “Yes, of course it is,” Bitty exclaims. Jack takes this opportunity to lift Bitty up, set him on the counter, and kiss him thoroughly.Later that night, though, after soup and some particularly exuberant sex, Bitty jolts awake in bed, and shakes Jack awake just as he’s falling asleep.“Sweetheart?” Bitty whispers.“Hmm?”“How would it…Are you sure you want me to move in with you? I mean someone’s bound to figure it out eventually, and-““Bits, do you want to live with me?”“Well, yes, Jack, of course I do, but you still have to think about—““The building has great security, and now that I’ve spent a year in the NHL incident-free, I don’t have as many reporters following me,” Jack says, pulling Bitty down so that he’s lying on Jack’s stomach. “Everyone on the team knows, and even if one of them wanted to blab, they’re too afraid of losing access to your pies.”“That may be, but when people find out—““I want to come out. I don’t want to hide for my entire career.”There’s just enough light filtering in through the curtains for Jack to make out Bittle’s face, and he sees a sad smile spread across it.“Jack, I’m—I’m so proud of you, and if you want to come out, that’s great.”“If you don’t, I mean, I can wait. It’s not like I was planning to make an announcement tomorrow or anything, and I thought, since you’re out as well… I don’t want to have to hide you.”“I’m only out at Samwell, Jack.”Oh. “Are you worried about your parents?” Jack asks, running his hands up and down Bittle’s arms. Jack’s met the Bittles and he knows they love their son. He also knows that they assume many things about their son.Bitty draws in a breath, but doesn’t respond right away, so Jack keeps his hold on him.“It’s just… It’s one thing if your only son comes out as gay. It’s a whole ‘nother ball game when he comes out with his NHL all-star boyfriend. They’ll get people hammering on their door, and Madison’ll be overrun with reporters asking about me, which no one will appreciate.”“You think the media will overwhelm them?”“Not just that. If you… If I came out to them without a famous boyfriend, or any boyfriend at all, it’d be easier. I don’t think they would disown me or anything, but it would give them the option to not talk about me with most of the town.”“That sounds a lot like disowning to me,” Jack says, almost in spite of himself. He hates the idea that Bitty’s parents’ love for him is in any way conditional.“It’s complicated,” Bitty sighs. “I’m sorry, Bits.”“Hush. It’s not your fault, it’s just—““Complicated?”“Yeah.”They lay there in silence for a few more minutes, Bitty splayed out over Jack’s chest. Jack finally stills his hands so they rest on Bitty’s back, and for a few minutes he thinks about how much he wants this every night. Bitty falling asleep next to him, sharing a bed, sharing a space. It’s intoxicating, but if Bitty’s not ready, well…“We should do whatever you’re comfortable with,” Jack finally gets out. “We can look at you moving in some other time.”Bitty jerks his head up.“I want to move in with you, Jack. I want to so, so badly. I just don’t see how we could keep it all under wraps.”“I think we can figure it out. Can we at least try?”“… Yes. Let’s try.”Bittle beams. Jack beams. They fall asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms....“So, when is Bitty moving to Providence?” Jack nearly jumps. He’s standing in the Sur la Table in the Providence Place Mall, looking at the shelves of Le Creuset bakeware in front of him when a familiar voice breaks his concentration.He turns around to see George standing behind him, a knowing smile on her face.“May, actually,” Jack says, lifting the visor of his cap a little and blushing.“And when’s the wedding?” George asks.Jack blushes even deeper.“Well I mean, I haven’t… We haven’t really talked about that yet.”“Jack Zimmermann, I have met that boy, and if you’re planning on getting him a complete Le Creuset set like I think you are, you might as well get him a diamond ring.”Jack chuckles. “Just a Dutch oven and some pie dishes. His birthday and graduation are both in May, and since we have a by this week, I wanted to get it done.”“Very smart. Cerise or Marseilles?”“Uhhh...”“Samwell red or Falconers blue?”“The red,” Jack says, smiling. “Good choice,” George replies, smiling at Jack a little indulgently. “You know, Jack,” she continues, dropping her voice. There’s hardly anyone else here in the store, but her eyes still dart around. “We’re behind you and Bittle 100%, however you two decide you want to do this. But before Bittle moves in we should talk. We want to be ready for anything, and if you guys decide you do want to go public, Falconers PR can handle it.”“That’s really nice of you, George, but Bittle and I wouldn’t want to bother them-““We are paying our PR people salaries that almost measure up to yours to be bothered with things like this. We’ve got your back. Talk to Eric, and then come and talk to me,” she says and Jack knows that tone. Even if he tried arguing, he isn’t going to get anywhere. “Thank you, George. I’ll make sure to talk to Bits about it.”“Good. Now I’ll let you get back to your shopping, but just so you know, I happen to have excellent taste in jewelry, too, if you ever need some advice.” ...“So I ran into George today at Providence Place. She asked when you were moving in.”Jack and Bitty are having their daily bedtime skype call. Well, bedtime for Jack. Bitty will probably be up for another few hours at least in order to meet the deadline for his thesis draft. Bitty laughs. “Did she? Where did you run into her?”“At Providence Place.”“Yes, Jack, but where in Providence Place? George doesn’t seem like the type to spend her by week hanging around with mallrats like you.”“In the shoe store. I needed a new pair of running shoes.”“Jack Zimmermann, I thought I told you to tell me when you needed a new pair!”“But they were having a sale.”“Oh lord. What did you get?”“Hang on a minute, let me go get them.”Jack disappears from the camera’s view for a moment, and reappears with a plastic bag from Champs. He pulls out the shoebox on top, opens it and reveals…“Jack Zimmermann, you did not buy another pair of yellow running shoes.”“No. I bought two pairs.”Jack enjoys the frustrated sound Bitty makes a little too much.“Anyway, I ran into George, and she wants to talk to us before you move in.”“Oh?” Bitty replies, his eyebrows raised.“Yeah, uh, she said that we can take our time going public, but she wanted us to know that the Falconers organization is behind us. And that the PR people can take care of any press stuff so that we don’t have to.”“Well that was nice of her.”Jack frowns. Bittle is decidedly unenthused. “This doesn’t mean we have to tell anyone right away, or even soon. But if we’re going to be living together, it’s going to be a lot harder to hide.”“I know,” Bitty sighs, leaning forward and rubbing his face with his palms. “I was just talking to Mama and Coach earlier and I just don’t know how I’m going to tell them that I’m staying in New England and becoming your “roommate,” let alone everything else.”“Everything else being that you’re gay, we’ve been dating for over a year, we’re in love, and we’re moving in together as not roommates?”“Something like that,” Bitty replies, smiling sadly. “It’s just going to be a lot for them to take. “Do you think they already know?” “Oh no, not at all. Well, Mama may suspect, but she’s probably purposefully just not putting the pieces together.”“Ah,” Jack says. He knows Suzanne Bittle loves her son, but he’s also learning not to underestimate a southerner’s ability to deny what’s right in front of them. “I mean, she may know, but she doesn’t know. And neither she or coach will know until I tell them, or they get told.”“So it’s probably better if you tell them.”“And I know I should, because I can’t hide who I am forever and if we get outed or someone else in Madison tells them before I do, it’ll be even worse. And that definitely wouldn’t be fair to them, and I will tell them, I just don’t know how.”“Whatever you decide, Bitts, I’ll support you. Just let me know what you need.”“Thank you, sweetheart. Tell uh, tell George I’d love to meet with her next time we’re all in Providence.”...“Do you think I made enough?” Bitty asks, looking down at the basket of oatmeal raisin scones in his hands. He and Jack are driving over to the other side of Providence to George’s house for “a nice brunch and some business talk.”Jack eyes the massive basket in Bitty’s lap.“Bits, you’ve been up since five and made four batches.”“But George told me last time that these were her favorite.”“George’ll eat plenty, keep half for later, and I’ll still have enough to leave in the nook tomorrow.”“I should have made a pie.”“The scones’ll be perfect. You can make a pie next time, Bits.”“You think there’ll be a next time?”“You’re still planning on moving down here in May, right?”“Yes?”“Bittle, George likes you for more than just your scones.”Bitty chuckles. “If you say so, Mr. Zimmermann.”Jack pulls the car into a parking lot beside George’s building, which looks like it used to be an old warehouse. It’s red brick and looks cozy, but once George buzzes them in through the front door, Jack isn’t surprised to find that the interior is completely renovated, with sleek stainless steel and other touches that people probably call “industrial.” “The red brick really warms the place up, despite all that metal,” Bittle says, pressing the “up” button to call the elevator.“I was thinking the same thing,” Jack replies, putting his hand over Bitty’s and leading him into the elevator when the doors open. When the doors close, he pulls Bitty in for a quick, light kiss, and pulls back to see Bittle’s eyes lidded and a faint blush on his cheeks.“Oh don’t you dare. I will not have you flustering me right before I need to make a good impression.”“Which is why I didn’t push you up against the wall,” Jack replies. “If you had done anything to make me drop these scones, Jack, then you would have found yourself sleeping on the couch tonight.”Jack is saved from replying by the “ding” of the elevator arriving at George’s floor. He and Bitty step out, make a left, and walk until they reach unit 45. As Jack knocks on the door, Bittle lets out a deep breath.The door opens a moment later, and George is standing there, wearing an apron, and smiling at the two of them.“Right on time! Come on in, you two,” she says, stepping aside so that Jack and Bitty can cross the threshold. “The casserole I made is just out of the oven, and the table’s all set, so now all we need is your delicious scones, Eric,” she says, closing the door behind them. “Thanks for inviting us over, George,” Bittle says, “Should I just set the scones—?”“Yeah right in the center of the table, thanks,” George replies, and Bittle sets the basket near the center of the round table, next to a hot casserole dish and a huge bowl of fruit salad.“You can just hang your coats in the closet by the door. Can I get you guys anything to drink? Tea? Coffee? Juice.”“Some coffee would be great, thanks, George,” Jack says, hanging his own coat up in the closet while Bittle peels off his many layers. “What’ll you have, Eric?”“Coffee sounds great,” Bitty replies, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck, shivering slightly as he does. “You like cream and two sugars, right?”“Bittle prefers his coffee to be fake-pumpkin flavored,” Jack chirps. Bitty rolls his eyes and George chuckles.“Cream and two sugars is perfect, thanks, George,” Bittle says, gratefully accepting a steaming mug from George. She hands Jack a mug of nearly black coffee, and pours a cup for herself, pouring in as much cream as she put in Bittle’s.Once they’re all seated, George serves each of them heaping portions of her breakfast casserole. (“What Nate doesn’t know won’t hurt him. You’d better eat all of this or I’ll be a little offended.”) They chat for a few minutes, but there’s a bit of an awkwardness that Jack isn’t used to having when Bittle’s around. Bits is smiling, but he’s quieter than usual, and his hands are shaking ever so slightly.Luckily, George notices, too.“So, how about we get down to business so we can actually enjoy all this?” she asks, resting her fork on her plate and clasping her hands in front of her.“Oh thank goodness. I thought you were gonna make me wait all morning,” Bittle says, his voice a little unsteady.“Jack?”“Yeah. Let’s talk,” Jack replies with what he hopes is an encouraging smile to Bittle and George. He must look funny, though, because Bittle’s mouth has turned into an actual sly smile, like he wants to chirp him, or maybe call Jack something like a “sweet summer child.” Jack can’t tell the difference sometimes.“So first of all,” George begins “I’m glad that you’re moving to Providence, Eric. Not only will I have easier access to your sinful baked goods, but Jack always seems to score more when you come visit.”“Probably just because his cellies get more energetic,” Eric says. It’s not a lie. Jack has more reasons to celebrate when his boyfriend’s in town, after all.“Actually, his goals go up right before, during, and after you visit. On average he gets one more goal per game and two more assists.”“You’ve actually counted?” Jack asks. Not that he doesn’t believe her, but still. “So I get insomnia sometimes. And I like to know what pushes my team to be at their best.”Bittle chuckles. “Are you sure Jack’s goals don’t outweigh all the pie that’s been derailing the team’s meal plans?”“They’re all grown men, most of the time. They can decide what they do or don’t eat. But anyway, I asked you guys here for a fact-finding brunch,” George takes a breath. “I’m not trying to pry, but I need to have as many facts as possible so we can figure out what direction to take this in. We all want the same thing here. We want to minimize any negative impact on you, Jack, and the team. I haven’t brought in our PR people yet, but when I do, they’ll want to be on top of the story. When the time comes, hopefully you and Jack will have control of what type of story this becomes. And when you do decide to go public, you will have the full support of the Falconers organization.”“Oh, uh, thank you, that’s very kind of you.” Bittle replies. “As of right now, the team, the coach, and general management officially know about you two. Wives and girlfriends, our trainers, doctors, therapists, anyone close to the team probably unofficially knows. It doesn’t have to go further than that for now if you don’t want it to, but I’ll tell you right now, if you move to Providence, come to events with Jack, live with Jack, it’s going to be a lot harder to keep that under wraps.”Bittle and Jack nod in agreement.“Anyone working for or with the team who decides to try and sell the story will immediately find themselves on the receiving end of a lawsuit… and Tater’s fists, probably. I know that sounds harsh-“ she adds quickly, seeing the stricken look on Bitty and Jack’s faces “but as part of the contracts they signed, they agreed not to disclose information like this. No one wants to see someone profit by outing you two.”“A lawsuit just sounds like a bit much,” Bittle says, taking a sip of his coffee.“And hopefully it won’t come to that. We want you to come out on your terms, in your own time. And I hire good people. No one’s going to purposefully out you.”“Thank you, George,” Jack says, because Bittle, for maybe the second time in his life, can’t seem to find the words he needs.“Is this all okay with you, Eric?”Bittle takes a deep breath before replying. “I guess so. It comes with the territory of dating a professional hockey player, right?”“Unfortunately, yes,” says George, taking another sip of her coffee. “Now, can I ask you some questions so that we can enjoy our brunch?”“Lay ‘em on me,” Bittle says.“First, were you underage when you began seeing Jack?”Both Jack and Eric blush and try to stammer out a response. “What? No I turned twenty a couple weeks before Jack’s graduation. That’s when we started dating,” Bittle finally gets out, sounding a bit indignant. Jack doesn’t blame him.“So May 2015?”“Yes.”“Okay, good. Honestly that’s the worst of it—like I said, I don’t mean to pry, but that’s something we need to know if this ever gets leaked. I’m sorry if the wording seemed insensitive, but that’s what people will be asking.”Eric exhales, and Jack realizes that he’d been holding his breath. He scoots to the edge of his chair so that he can move his hand to the base of Bittle’s spine, and rub a slow, calming circle there.“Okay, question two. Who of your family and friends know?”“Most of the Samwell team knows, and my parents know. I uh, don’t really have friends outside the Samwell team and the Falconers,” Jack replies, hoping that his answer has given Bittle enough time to collect himself.“I’m out at Samwell, everyone there knows I’m gay,” Bittle says, his voice stronger than Jack was expecting. “And my twitter and vlog followers all know I’m gay, but they don’t know I’m dating Jack.”“What about your family?” George asks.“No one in Georgia knows,” Bittle says.“Alright then. So my next question becomes, when do you see yourself coming out? What’s your ideal scenario?”Bittle glances at Jack, who smiles and nods, hoping that this is enough encouragement. “I guess… I don’t want to spend my entire life hiding from my parents, but I definitely want to wait until after I graduate in May. And I want to tell them before Jack and I go public. It’s only fair to give them some warning, I think.”“Absolutely. Do you have a timeline in your head at all? If you don’t that’s fine. This is a fact-finding meeting and we don’t have to make any decisions right now.”“As long as it’s not during football season,” Bittle laughs. “My dad is a high school football coach. It’s probably not a good idea to come out during his season.”“I was thinking playoffs or post-playoffs, depending on where we end up in the next few years,” Jack adds. “I think it’ll go over easier if we have some playoff wins or even a cup under our belts, plus it’ll give the team some time avoid the media if they want to.”“I agree with Jack. And not to jinx us, but I think we have a definite chance at the playoffs this year, maybe even the Cup, barring any catastrophes. Especially if you prove to be Jack’s best incentive.” George says. “Bits, what do you think?” “Yeah. That seems like it would be the best time. Not this season, though.”“Definitely not this season. We can take as long as you want, Bits,” Jack assures him. He doesn’t even look at George. She’ll just have to live with it.Bittle smiles at him.“Well, that’s all the questions I have. Once you two actually move in together I’ll set up a meeting with PR and they can get into more specifics. In the meantime, I want to tell you about a friend of mine in Boston who edits cookbooks.”...Jack takes Bittle home that night, but instead of chirping him into doing homework, he lets Bittle bake him a non-diet approved pie, which Jack eats with gusto. They have loud, exuberant sex, and in the morning Bittle talks about how he’s going to organize the kitchen in May while he makes Jack an egg white and spinach omelet.Jack thinks about how this could be his every day very soon, and finds that he can’t stop smiling....Jack leans back in his seat on the plane. He’s flying home from a three game West Coast roadie and the entire team is spread over a chartered jet, everyone getting ready to take a well-deserved nap. They’ve won all three games, and their next game isn’t until Sunday night, and today is Friday. There’s also only three weeks left in the season. Unless the Maple Leafs have a last-minute surge, the Falconers are basically guaranteed a playoff spot.And tonight Bittle is taking the train down to Providence. His thesis is nearly finished and his last finals are still almost a month away. Jack is anticipating a nice, relaxing weekend, probably their last before they both get swept up with finals, graduation, and playoffs. Jack is just about to fall asleep when his phone buzzes in his pocket.Bittle: Can you skype rn? Me: Sure, let me get my computer upJack extracts his laptop from his bag, pulls down his tray table, and opens up skype, plugging his headphones in so that he doesn’t wake his sleeping teammates.Bitty calls almost as soon as the green dot appears next to Jack’s icon.“Hey, Bits, what’s up?” Jack asks. It could be anything. One time he called like this to cry about Beyonce’s pregnancy announcement.“Sweetpea, I’m so sorry, but I can’t make it down tonight,” Bitty says, looking a little guilty, but also a little frantic. “Is everything okay?” Jack asks, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Oh yes, everything’s fine. I have an interview. It’s so last minute. They called this morning and the supervisor is going out of town for the next two weeks and so today is basically the only day everyone on the hiring committee can get together and—““Bits, that’s fantastic! Where’s the interview?”“Downtown Boston. The Seaport? It’s that cookbook company George was telling me about. She sent my resume to her friend and apparently a link to my vlog and now they—““When’s the interview?” Jack asks, looking at his watch. It’s 11:45 am in Massachusetts. Jack can see the ironing board behind Bitty, his white dress shirt laid over it and one of his blazers hanging on the closet door. It takes Bitty about 45 minutes to get from the Haus to downtown Boston via commuter rail.“Three pm. But I haven’t practiced at all and I don’t want to show up at the interview with a huge suitcase of my things on top of everything else,” Bitty’s been moving his things down to Providence little by little over the past month. “So I’ll just get up early tomorrow and take one of the first trains down. I should make it to your place just before you get out of practice.”“Or you could just come to Providence from your interview. It’s not like you don’t have enough clothes here,” Jack says. And it’s true. Bitty has plenty of clothes at his (their) condo. So it’s not like Jack’s being selfish. He’s just being practical.“But what about my stuff I was planning on moving?”“I’ll drive up sometime this week and get it. It’ll give me something to do so I’m not thinking about playoffs all the time.”“If you say so, sweetpea. I’ll see you tonight then,” Bitty says. Jack thinks he sounds just a little less stressed.“Do you have your resume printed out?” Jack asks next.“No, not yet. I’ll do that after I decide what tie I’m wearing.”“Alright, Bits. You’re going to do great, okay? You’re the best baker I know and these people are going to begging you to come work for them in a few months.”“Goodness I hope so. I gotta go. Bye, honey.”“Bye, Bits. Love you.”“Love you too, Jack,” Bitty says, blowing him a kiss before ending the call.Jack reaches for his phone again, and pulls up the messenger app he can use with wi-fi.Me: Chowder, I’m going to swing by the Haus this afternoon to get some of Bitty’s stuff. Can you let me in?Chris Chow: Sure Jack!! What time will you get here?Me: Probably around 3. Chris Chow: Alright! I’ll be home to let you in.Me: Thanks, Chow....A little over an hour later, Jack climbs down the steps onto the tarmac at the Providence airport. He waves goodbye to the rest of the team as they climb into their respective cars, but instead of heading towards downtown Providence, Jack heads north, towards Samwell. He pulls up in front of the Haus right at three, just like he’d told Chowder. He goes up to knock on the door, but before he can it opens in front of him. “Hi, Jack!” Chowder says. He may have spent three years at Samwell, but he’s just as enthusiastic about, well, everything as he was when he came on his Taddy tour.“Hey, Chowder. How’s it going?” Jack asks, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.“Oh it’s been pretty quiet since we got knocked out of the playoffs,” Chowder says. The team had made it to the first round of the playoffs, but had been knocked out by Boston University last week. Jack couldn’t make it, or even watch on his laptop, but Bittle scored one of Samwell’s two goals. Overall, it could have been a worse end to his senior season.“How’s Caitlin?” Jack asks, moving towards the stairs. Chowder follows him, as he expects him to.“I’m here! I’m good!” Caitlin calls from the kitchen. “I’m finishing this stupid paper up now, but I’ll say hi before you leave!”“She’s good,” Chowder says, smiling.Jack and Chowder go up the stairs to Bitty’s room, which is unlocked. The room hasn’t changed too much since Bittle moved in. There are still Beyonce posters on the walls and a Georgia banner, some Samwell pendants. The only change is a huge suitcase sitting in the middle of the room, filled with whatever Bitty was planning to take down to Providence that weekend.“There’s also a box in the kitchen,” Chowder begins. “Bitty packed up some of his baking stuff so that he wouldn’t be too distracted during finals.”“Knowing him he’ll find a way to bake even if we take everything away.”“Does he have baking things at your apartment?”“He has most of what he needs. We’ll have some duplicates of some things, but we have plenty of space,” Jack replies, lifting the suitcase up by its top handle and moving to leave the room.He carries the suitcase downstairs and out to his car, putting it in the trunk and leaving room for what he assumes will be a small box. Bittle’s not really going to send any of his vital baking equipment away with finals still to come.But when he goes back inside and into the kitchen, there’s an actual large box sitting on the table. “Hi, Jack,” Caitlin says, looking up from her laptop. She’s sitting next to the box.“Hey, Farmer. How’re things?”“They’ll be a lot better once I finish this damn case study,” she says. “How are you doing?”“Good. Things are about to get crazy, so I’m enjoying the calm before the storm.”“Tell me about it. It must be really exciting, though, having Bitty move in so soon,” she says, eyeing the box next to her. “I have no idea what’s in here, but I hope he’s keeping his baking sheets here. I don’t know how I’m going to make it through finals without his cookies.”Jack puts his hands on the box and lifts it up for a second before setting it back down on the table. It’s heavier than he expected. Not that he’ll have a problem lifting it, but it’s got some weight to it.“I’m sure he’s keeping all his essentials here,” Jack replies. “Are you picking him up in Boston after his interview?”“Yeah. He doesn’t know yet, though.”“We’ll keep it a secret, don’t worry,” Farmer says, giving Chowder, who standing in the doorway, a knowing look.“I won’t say anything!” he cries.“I know you won’t purposefully say anything, honey,” Farmer says, her gaze more fond now.“That’s five for the sin bin, Chowder,” comes a voice from the front door right before Dex appears behind Chowder.“I didn’t even hear you come in!” Chowder cries.“I oiled the hinges yesterday. The door was getting creaky. Hey, Jack,” Dex says. “Dex,” Jack says, nodding his head at him.“You here to get Bitty’s stuff?”“Yeah. Was just about to take this out to the car, actually,” Jack says, going to lift the box.“Woah, woah, let me get that,” Dex says, shucking off his backpack and striding over to Jack. “We’re done with hockey for the season, but you still have three weeks left of the regular season and then playoffs.”“I can lift the box, Dex.”“Nah I’m not risking you popping your shoulder out.” “This is awfully nice of you, Dex,” Farmer says.“Yeah, way to help Jack out!” Chowder chimes.“I, uh, may have a bet going with my brother on whether or not the Falconers will win the Cup this year.”Dex does end up carrying the box out to his car, but before he leaves Jack darts back inside to change out of his suit and into some jeans. He grabs a pair of Bittle’s, too. He says goodbye to Chowder, Farmer, and Dex, and soon finds himself on the road to Boston.He knows the address of the office where Bittle’s interviewing because he saw it on Bittle’s cover letter, and he lucks out and finds a parking space near the entrance to the building. It’s a renovated warehouse in the seaport, and as five o’clock gets closer more and more people in suits stream out of the buildings. Jack knows Bittle isn’t done with his interview yet because he hasn’t texted him or the group chat. Hopefully it means everything is going well. It’s reasonably warm out, so Jack sits on a bench by a fountain, a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.Just after five thirty, Jack spots Bittle coming out of the building. He looks noticeably calmer than he did over skype this morning, and he’s smiling as he looks down at his phone. Almost immediately, Jack’s phone buzzes in his pocket.Bittle: Just got out of the interview, it ran late! I’m headed to South Station now so I should be in Providence by 7:00. <3Me: Look upAs soon as Bittle reads the text, his head snaps up, looking around until his eyes land on Jack, who’s standing by the bench now. Bittle breaks into a genuine smile a mile wide, and Jack returns it, because there’s really no way for him not to.He keeps smiling and Bittle dashes over to him. Jack wants so badly to kiss him right now. His cheeks are pink and he’s smiling that smile and he is everything Jack ever wants. Instead, he pulls Bittle into a tight hug. They can do that, especially if no one’s recognized him.“Well this is a surprise!” Bittle says, pulling out of the hug. “I thought you were going to pick me up in Providence!”“I had time, so I thought I might as well come here. Maybe we could grab dinner?”“That sounds wonderful, Jack,” Bittle says, loosening his tie. “I brought a pair of your jeans if you want to change into those,” Jack says, motioning towards his car.“You really did think of everything, didn’t you?”Jack just smiles. They get Bitty’s jeans out of the car, and then they duck into a nearby shop so that Bitty can use the bathroom to change. “Where do you want to go to eat?” Bitty asks as they leave the shop.“What’s that place you were talking about? The one with the jazz bands?”“The Beehive. But the bands don’t start until seven pm and you have practice tomorrow at nine.”“One late night won’t kill me.”“We can go in June when the season’s done. Until then, I will not be responsible for your underperformance,” Bitty chirps as they reach the car. “One night out isn’t going to affect anything. And besides, you’re my good luck charm, remember?”“You get grumpy when your routine gets put off somehow this late in the season. And do not argue with me, Jack Zimmermann.”“I’ve gotten a lot better recently,” Jack replies, running around to the driver’s side of the car and climbing in. Bitty is already inside.“Oh I know you have,” Bitty says, giving Jack a soft look. “But we can go in June when neither of us have anything to worry about. Then we can stay out and dance as late as we want,” “Think we’ll last through to June, eh?”“Oh I know you will. With my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, you and the Falconers will be unstoppable. Especially if Tater insists I make them for him, too.”“So where do you want to eat tonight, then?”“How ‘bout we just walk around the South End and see what looks good? It’s a bit early for dinner.”“Sounds like a plan.”“They drive over to the South End and find a parking space in a garage. While they walk around, Bitty fills Jack in on his job interview.“Oh Jack I really want to work there. First I sat down with the editor friend of George’s, whose name is Cheryl, by the way, and the head test cook I’d be working under. They asked me a bunch of questions like ‘I see you didn’t go to culinary school, what makes you qualified for this job,’ and ‘What’s your experience editing any type of media?’ And lord I hope I spun everything well because I certainly did not go to culinary school. But I showed them some of my vlog episodes and talked about how I taught myself iMovie and film editing and how I even write scripts now.”“Well you were in there for over three hours, so I’d say that’s a good sign.”“Well after that we got to talking about our favorite chefs and how we all got so interested in food and cooking. And then they sprang a test on me.”“What kind of test?”They took me into a kitchen, handed me an apron and said to make anything with the ingredients in the cupboards and the refrigerator by five. Except it was already four because we’d chatted so damn long, but Cheryl and Dan said that I could have extra time because usually they give interviewees an hour and a half.”“That was nice of them. What did you make?”“Well, I also had to write down my process and the measurements for everything once I was done. I mean, I haven’t used actual measuring cups and spoons since I was seven, so that was a challenge. I wanted to make that apple pie with maple crust I make for you, but I just didn’t have the time. So I made apple-maple muffins instead.”“They sound delicious. Did Cheryl and Dan like them?”“I think so. They wouldn’t let me take any home because the rest of their team apparently has to try them. I just hope they last until Monday.”“Well I’m sure Cheryl and Dan know how to store them so that they will keep.”It’s well after six now and even though Jack and Bittle have been walking, they haven’t actually been looking at restaurants, like they had meant to. They end up slipping into a fancy café, where they split mushroom ravioli and lobster mac n’ cheese “Because it’s a special occasion, Bits.”They just beat the huge dinner rush, and no one recognizes Jack, and they’re back in Providence by ten. They pull into the parking garage of Jack’s condo building, and Bitty gets out and makes for the door.“Wait, we should get your stuff,” Jack says, pressing the button on his key remote to pop his trunk. “Sweetheart, I didn’t bring anything this time, remember? Now come on, I want to-” But Bitty stops short, because Jack is lifting his suitcase out of the trunk.“When did you?”“I went to Samwell after I got off the plane,” Jack admits. “Do you want to carry your kitchen box or my duffel bag?”“Your duffel… Jack, have you even been home since you got back from the roadie?”“No. Do you want the duffel or the box?”“I will take the duffel and the box, but if you think I’m not going to kiss you first, you have another thing coming,” Bitty says. In a moment the space between the two of them is gone, and Bittle is pulling Jack down to kiss him. Jack’s hands move to Eric’s waist, and for a minute they’re in danger of making out in a parking lot like a pair of teenagers before Bittle finally moves away.His face is red, and he’s biting his lip the way he does when he’s trying to be coy. Mostly it’s just cute. But it also has to be sexy, somehow, since somehow Jack’s pants usually disappear when Eric gets that look.“Like I said, I’ll take the duffel and the box.” “Are you sure? I mean, you can fit in that duffel bag.”Bitty just rolls his eyes, goes to one of the back doors of the car, opens it, and pulls out the duffel bag, which he slings over his shoulders, and doesn’t wince when the weight settles. He closes the door, walks around to the trunk, and easily lifts the box up.“I’ve been eating my protein, Mr. Zimmermann. Now close the trunk and come open some doors for me.Jack does. And he should go to sleep once they get home. But. Bittle....4/7/2017 13:53Bittle: I know you’re in practice, but I got the job!!!!!Bittle: Looks like I’ll be spending a lot of time on the Boston/Providence commuter train. : )14:25Me: Congratulations, Bits!Me: Give me a sec, let me get in my car and I’ll call u...“So what exactly are you going to be doing?” Shitty asks. After Bitty’s announcement Friday, most of the SMH alums in the area have gathered back at the Haus the following Sunday to celebrate. There’s a party in full swing. Not a full-on kegster, but loud enough that no one notices Jack come in through the unlocked front door. “Editing cookbooks. I have to take the recipes as the authors write them, and try and make the recipes. If I think the instructions are too difficult for someone at a certain skill level to handle or if I think the recipe is wrong I let the editors know.”“Bits, you’re gonna be telling half of those chefs how to do their jobs better,” Lardo says, smirking over her solo cup. She graduated last year, and is currently living with Shitty in Boston where she works at a gallery on Newbury Street “Selling art to people who have no idea what crap they’re buying.”“Well, there’s always room for a promotion,” Bitty says, smiling in a way that clearly says “Bless your heart.” Whose heart Bitty is blessing, Jack has no idea.“Well that sounds ‘swawesome, Bits,” Holster says, and after Bitty says ‘thanks’ Holster turns around and sees Jack leaning against the door frame.“Yoooo!!” he cries, beer sloshing in his red solo cup. This, of course, causes everyone to turn around. Bitty’s face lights up, Lardo smiles, and Shitty is on him in a second.“Look at this fucker! Acting all casual and not like he just won the goddamn Art fucking Ross Trophy!” Shitty yells, plastering himself onto Jack’s side and wrapping his arm around Jack’s neck. “Nice to see you too, Shits,” Jack says, letting Shitty hang off of him. He’ll let go when he’s ready, eventually, or Lardo will make him. “Yeah man, congratulations,” Ransom says, and Holster holds his hand up for a high five, which Jack returns.“Yeah congratulations, Jack! I told you it was coming!” Bitty exclaims. Jack would very much like to hug Bitty right now, and he can tell Bitty would very much like to hug him, but there are non-SMH people around and…“Look at you two. Give it five years and you guys’ll have conquered the world through hockey prowess and pie,” Lardo says. “You’ll be our overlords,” Ransom chimes.“As long as I keep getting pie, I have no objection to this,” Holster says.Bitty laughs. “I promise y’all’ll keep getting pie.”“Shitty!” Comes Dex’s voice from somewhere in the house. “Get off of Jack’s fucking shoulder!”Everyone laughs as Dex appears and hands Jack a glass of water.…The Haus is mostly cleared out by one. Jack, Bitty, Shitty, Lardo, Ransom, and Holster are all spread out over the awful green couch and some of the arm chairs in the living room. Jack is sitting on the couch, and Bittle is sitting on his lap since he still refuses to actually sit on the couch. Chowder and Farmer are tangled up on the floor leaning against said couch, Dex is perched on a chair he brought in from the kitchen, and Nursey is also splayed out on the floor, his face buried in the carpet.“So you’re like, moving to Providence in May?” Shitty says.“Yeah,” Bitty says around a yawn. “I’ll move in the day after graduation.”“Your parents gonna help you move?”Bitty’s eyes snap open. “I, uh, haven’t actually told them about that. Or about me and Jack,” Bitty admits.“Brah, just say you’re moving in with Jack until September first,” Shitty says.“Why September first?”“Renting in Boston is weird. Most of the leases start September first because so many students rent in the city. Just say you’re commuting from Providence until you’re able to sign a year-long lease.”“And by the time September first rolls around, your parents will have forgotten all about it,” Lardo adds, although Jack doesn’t think she quite believes it.“Sounds like a good idea for now,” Jack says, and Bitty closes his eyes and nuzzles his head against his neck.Bitty is sound asleep a few minutes later, so Jack tells everyone goodnight, lifts Bitty up bridal style (which no one even chirps him for) and carefully carries him upstairs. …The alarm on Jack’s phone sounds at eight thirty even though he doesn’t have skate until this afternoon. The team trainers told him to rest these first few days of the break before playoffs start anyway. They play the Bruins in the division semi-finals on Thursday.“Mmm getting up in a minute,” Bittle mumbles, his face mostly buried in Jack’s shoulder. It’s a tight fit for the two of them in Bitty’s twin-sized bed, but they make it work.Jack enjoys the morning sunlight filtering through the blinds, and runs his hand absently up and down Bittle’s back until he stirs again.“G’morning,” he says, rolling over onto his back, his eyes still only half open.“Morning, sunshine,” Jack says, leaning down to kiss his boyfriend.“Congrats on winning the Art Ross. I’m so proud of you, honey,” Bittle says when they pull apart.“Congrats on landing that job,” Jack says. “I’m really proud of you, too. When do you start?”“I’m going into Boston next Monday to sit down with HR and iron all that out. I’m hoping I can push my start date until after your playoffs, but we’ll see.”“If you’re in Boston on Monday you can come to game four,” Jack says. “George already sent me a ticket for you. She, uh, actually got tickets for you for all of the games.”“I’m beginning to think George would shrink me down for you to keep in your pocket if she could. Then’d I’d be an actual lucky charm.”“Well she gave me three extra tickets to each game so that ‘the man with the moustache who yells a lot’ can come, too.”“Shitty’ll be proud to know that’s how George identifies him. Are your parents coming?”“They’ll come to the regional and divisional finals if we make it that far.”“Which you will.”“We got knocked out in the divisional finals last year.”“But this year you won’t.”Jack is silent for a moment.“If we do make it, I don’t think I’ll be able to come to your graduation. I’m sorry, Bits,” Jack says. And he is, he really, really is. “Oh I know that, honey. Don’t worry about it. My parents’ll leave the day after graduation and I’ll just hop on the train down and be waiting for you in your condo when you finish up.”“Our condo, you mean.”“I am not calling it our condo until I start contributing to rent and other expenses.”“Fair enough. But it’s still ours.”The next month is nonstop, for both Jack and Bitty. The Falconers win their division semi-final matchup against the Bruins in five games, and Bitty is even able to come watch games four and five. The day after game five, Jack is there as Bitty calls his parents, and tells his mom that he’s moving in with Jack until September first. She seems to accept his explanation, especially since Bittle’s new company is having him start just two weeks after graduation, so there’s not a lot of time to look for an apartment in Boston.“That was easier than I thought it was going to be,” Bittle admits. Jack chooses not to say anything about how much Bittle’s hands are still shaking. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- After the last week in April, Jack and Bitty don’t see each other in person until Bitty moves in. Jack can’t get away from Providence on Bitty’s birthday, or his graduation, so he has to content himself with sending his boyfriend dozens of flowers and promising Bitty a better present the next time he sees him.On Bitty’s graduation day, Jack is in Toronto, prepping for game four against the Maple Leafs and looking at his phone way more often than he should. He’s getting a string of text messages from Bitty, who should be listening to his commencement speaker, and a flood of pictures from Shitty, Lardo, Ransom, Holster, Chowder, Dex, and even Nursey. Suzanne and Coach show up in some of the pictures and Suzanne looks on the verge of happy tears. Around eleven the stream of texts from Bitty stops, and a few minutes later Lardo sends Jack a video of Bitty walking across the stage, shaking the president’s hand, and accepting his diploma.“You watching Eric’s graduation?” a voice says, and Jack looks up. Marty is standing in front of him, an indulgent smile on his face.“Uh, yeah, that’s...that’s today,” Jack says as Marty sits down beside him.“I’m sorry you couldn’t be there, kiddo, Make him proud tonight though, eh?” he says, slapping Jack on the back. “He’s moving in with you this week, right? Gabby wants to get him a graduation present and wasn’t sure if she should send it to Samwell or just wait until he’s here.”“Oh, that’s nice of her. I’m sure Bittle will really appreciate it. He’s coming down tomorrow,” Jack says, not even bothering to hide his smile.“For good?”“For uh, for as long as I can keep him.”Marty just smiles at him. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your video.”“Jack!!” cries Bitty as soon as their skype call connects. Jack is back in his hotel room after the game. He’s technically sharing with Tater, but Tater excused himself for “victory celebrations” down at the hotel bar, and Jack has a feeling that he’s not going to get out of them entirely tonight.“Hey, Bits. How does it feel to be a college graduate?”“Amazing, and a lot less terrifying knowing I have a job n’ all. But you, Mr. Zimmermann. You got a hatty in an otherwise scoreless game!”“I told you I had a better graduation present for you.”“You spoil me, sweetie. But shouldn’t you be celebrating?”“You’re more important. Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”“Mama and Coach dropped me off here after dinner hours ago. Everyone but Lardo, Chowder, and Farmer had to leave this afternoon, and none of my baking things are here, so unless I want to be thrashed by Lardo in Mario Kart for the twentieth time, I’m not missing much.”“Tell me about your day, then. I got lots of pictures and video but—““Oh lord, what a day. Mama cried about how her baby’s all grown up, our gang of hooligans made the amount of noise you’d expect, and the president didn’t withhold my diploma at the last minute.”“Did you get the flowers I sent?”“Yes I did. And then I had to explain to mama and coach why every flat surface in the Haus had flowers on it.”“What did you tell them?”“Well, it wasn’t me, actually, it was Farmer. She jumped in and said her senile grandma thought she was graduating this year, and she brought the flowers to the Haus to ‘cover up the smell of jock.’”“I didn’t think about that, sorry, Bits.”“Don’t you worry your pretty little hat-trick-scoring head about it, Mr. Zimmermann. She was very convincing until Chowder said ‘But you’re also a jock.’”“I wish I could have been there.”“I wish you could have been here, too. But you were too busing scoring a hat trick for me.”“Getting ready to score a hat trick for you.”“Same difference. And a shutout for Snowy, too.”“Haha yeah. I think he’s downstairs taking a shot for every puck he blocked.”“It’s a good thing y’all’s next game isn’t for another two days. It’s gonna take him that long to recover.”“Tell me about it. I just hope I don’t end up sitting next to him on the plane.”“Your next two games are in Providence, right?”“Yep. Hopefully we can wrap it up so that we can get some rest time in before the conference championship. Although, since we’re going to be living together now, I’m not sure how much rest I’ll be getting.”Just as Jack hoped, Bitty blushes. “Well if you really think I’ll be that much of a distraction, I’ll just bunk with Lardo until the post-season’s over. It’ll be such an easier commute, anyway and, oh goodness, Jack, I’m joking,” Bitty hastily adds on, seeing look on Jack’s face. “I’ve barely slept this past week I’m so excited to get down to you.”“And I don’t plan on letting you get any sleep any time soon.”…This is it. Today is the day. All Jack has to do is sit through an hour-long flight, have a short practice back on home ice, get in his car, and then drive home. Where Bittle will be waiting for him. He listens as his coach talks strategy with the team on the plane. He gets a text from Bittle saying he and Lardo are on their way into Boston. He chats with Tater on the bus back to the Dunkin’ Donuts Center. He gets a selfie of Bittle sitting in a seat on the MBTA commuter train. He skates his heart out on the ice and watches tape from their game last night. He gets a text from Bittle, a picture of their condo with the words “Home Sweet Home.” He gets in his car and drives, and the ten minutes it takes him to pull into his parking garage feels like an eternity. He wants to run up the stairs, do anything but wait for this elevator, but it’s sixteen flights up and he’s pretty sure his coaches would kill him. But the elevator comes, and takes him up to the fourteenth floor. His floor. Their floor. He practically runs down the hall to his unit, fumbles as he puts the key into the lock, and finally swings the door open.Beyonce is playing at a surprisingly reasonable level. The windows are open and Jack can smell apple-maple pie wafting from the kitchen. He closes the door, and as he does, Bittle appears like magic. “Welcome home, Jack!” he says, and Jack steps forward to scoop him up before he can say anything else.…Jack and the Falconers win the Atlantic Division. In two days they’re set to head down to Washington, DC, to face off against the Capitals for the Eastern Conference finals. Right now, Jack and Bitty are at the family skate the coaches decided to hold after practice today. It’s Bittle’s first official family skate, even though he’s met most of the people here before. Marty’s and Thirdy’s kids rush over to Bittle as soon as he steps on the ice, and Jack thinks he’ll be lucky if he’s allowed to do one hand-in-hand lap around the rink with him.“Eric! Are you living with Jack now? Are you going to babysit us all the time now?” asks Keiley, Thirdy’s daughter.“Not all the time,” Bitty says, squatting down so that he’s nearly level with her. Not for the first time in his life, Jack uses to opportunity to get an eyeful of That Ass. “But a lot more often!” He sounds genuinely thrilled about it.Keiley pouts, but luckily Carrie chooses this moment to skate over.“Eric is going to be working in Boston, sweetie. But we’ll have him and Jack over for dinner and he can tell you all about it.”“Isn’t Boston a long way from Providence?”“Not too far, Keiley,” Bittle says. “I’ll get to take a train back and forth everyday, which’ll be fun.”“Trains aren’t that cool.”“You know who does really like trains though?” Carrie asks. “Bennie. Bennie loves trains. Why don’t you go help your dad and Marty teach Bennie how to skate, and then tell him all about Eric’s train?”“Okay!” Keiley says, skating off to where Marty is holding little Bennie’s hands as he toddles on his tiny skates. Thirdy and Gabby, Marty’s wife, are both taking video on their phones. “She hasn’t stopped talking about you moving down here since the last time you came to dinner,” Carrie admits, smiling at Bittle. “Congratulations, by the way! Graduated college and you already have a job. Jack’s lucky he roped in such a keeper.”“Don’t I know it,” Jack says as Gabby skates over.“Hello, Eric!” she says, skating up to pull Bittle into a hug. “Congratulations on your graduation! Marty and I have a little something for you, if you’ll stick around until the end of the skate.”“Oh, thank you, Gabby, but y’all didn’t have to do that!”“Don’t protest, Eric. If it makes you feel better, we got a present for our other babysitter when she graduated from Brown this month. And-“ she adds, dropping her voice into a mock whisper “we like you better. Plus your Jack’s partner, so of course we’re going to get you something.”“It’s going to be hard to top that Le Creuset Dutch oven, though. I don’t even cook, and I know those things are magic,” Carrie adds, winking at Jack.“You’re coming to the first two games in DC, right?” Gabby asks.“Of course! I wouldn’t miss them for the world!” Bittle replies.“Good! You can sit with us then. And Snowy’s girlfriend,” Gabby says, looking over to where Snowy is dutifully helping a short woman with tortoise-shell glasses complete a lap around the rink. “She’s a grad student at Brown, apparently. They’ve been dating for almost a year and he’s only just started bringing her around.”“He was probably afraid we’d scare her off,” Carrie says, and Gabby laughs. “We’ll herd her over to you two later so that she knows she’s not the only family skate virgin,” Gabby says just as Keiley skates back over.“Eric! My dad says that he doesn’t think I’m faster than you! We have to race!”“Alright, Miss Keiley, although I don’t know why your dad thinks anyone could be faster than you.”“That’s what I said! Mommy, you have to watch us and tell Daddy!”“Sure thing. Why don’t you two line up here,” she points behind her at center ice. “And whoever’s the first to make it past the goal line wins?”Bitty and Keiley move over the center ice, and Carrie goes down to the other end of the rink so that she can properly see who crosses the line first. Jack and Gabby move off behind the two racers. “On your mark!” Carrie calls, and Bittle shifts into something like a speed skater’s starting pose. Keiley, watching him closely, does the same. Jack, watching Bitty’s ass, is probably being too obvious.“On your mark! Get set! Go!” Carrie calls, and instantly Bittle and Keiley spring off. Bittle isn’t going anywhere near his top speed, and he’s purposefully holding himself back as he lets Keiley outstrip him. She glides over the finish line a second before Bitty, who is extremely congratulatory.“You’ve got a keeper there,” Gabby tells Jack in Québécois. “He’s a good guy, and he’s also got a great hockey butt,” Jack swivels his head around, and can feel himself going red. “Yes I saw you looking, Jack Laurent Zimmermann.”“What did you say? He’s as red as a tomato,” Marty says, finally skating over with little Bennie. “That’s between me and Jack, mon cher. Bennie, did Keiley tell you about Bitty’s train?” …“Your flight is boarding soon, right?” Jack says. He’s on a break from the Falconer’s first practice at the Verizon Center in DC. The team flew down on a charter flight yesterday to get some ice time in the capital before the game. Most of the spouses and partners coming to the first two games are flying down this afternoon.“Yeah my group boards in about ten minutes,” Bitty says. “You know you could have flown with Gabby and Carrie.”“They’re flying first class on another airline. I am letting you pay for my hotel, Jack, let me pay for my flight.”“But it’s not my money, Bits, it’s ours.”“When I start getting regular paychecks we can put our heads together and talk finances. Until then I’m paying for my own flights.”“So in… five days we can talk 401ks, joint savings accounts, and maybe a Roth IRA? I can’t wait.”“Ugh you know what I mean. I gotta go, though, I think I see Snowy’s girlfriend.”“Alright. Where are you sitting, if I don’t get to talk to you before the game?”“Somewhere in the Club Level, I don’t know which side. You have the sandwich I made you?”“Yes, and I also gave Tater his.”“Good. I’ve got bread and jelly with me, and I’ll buy peanut butter in DC, so I’ll be able to make you a fresh one for tomorrow.”“Wait, you’re bringing homemade jelly on the plane?”“Everything is compliant with FAA regulations. Now that is Karen over there, so I’m gonna go say hi. Good luck tonight, sweetheart.”“Thanks, Bits. I’ll see you after the game tonight. Love you.”“Love you, too.”…Jack texts Bittle throughout the rest of the day. His coaches are pretty strict about roadies, even more so now that the Falconers are in the playoffs, and they’re not even letting spouses and partners stay at the same hotel as the team. Jack remembers last year when they played Ottowa in the division finals how Marty got extremely grumpy when Gabby wasn’t allowed to stay with him on their anniversary, and Jack thinks he understands now. Sure, Bitty is only going to be a couple of blocks away, but it’s the closest they’ve been without sleeping in the same bed in almost two years. It feels wrong.But Bitty arrives at his hotel, and promptly sends texts to Jack berating him for how fancy it all is. Bittle, Gabby, Carrie, (and Karen, apparently) are staying at a smaller boutique hotel a little further down M Street from the Four Seasons, where the team is staying. As Jack eats his pb&j, Bitty sends him pictures of the dinner he’s having with Karen, Gabby, and Carrie. At about that time, the coaches tell everyone to put their phones away, and Jack doesn’t think he’s sneaky enough to try and steal glances at it. At least he knows where Bittle is sitting—George filled him in when she came in briefly before going to her own seat.When he skates out onto the ice, he looks up and to the right, following Marty’s lead. He can just make out Bittle, seated between Karen and Carrie, decked out in all of the Falconer’s gear he owns.Jack doesn’t usually pay attention to the crowds when he’s playing. He mostly just tries to tune them out, and for the most part tonight is no different. But when he goes to face off against Ovechkin, it helps to think that he can just make out Bitty’s voice in the crowd.“It’s a one am curfew for all of you. I want you all ready to go back to the rink at ten am,” Coach Michel says before the charter bus doors open. That means Jack will have a little over an hour to spend with Bitty. Which is not nearly enough time. He should go to bed, but he’s still hyped up on adrenaline. They eked out a 2-1 win, with Jack scoring the winning goal with seconds left in the third period. He climbs into the elevator with the rest of the team to take it up to their floor of the hotel, and follows Tater into the room they’re sharing. “Tell Bee thank you for the jelly sandwich! Is what got me such good assist,” he says, throwing his duffel bag on the bed by the window. “You are going to see him now, yes?”“Yeah. I’ll be back by curfew though.”“If you are not, I will cover for you.”“Haha, thanks, Tater.”Jack changes out of his post-game suit for jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweater, doffs a baseball cap, and slips out the hotel’s back door. As soon as he’s outside, he regrets the sweater. It feels like he’s walking through mud.Me: Omw to yr hotel. What’s yr room number?Bittle: 508!A couple minutes later finds Jack at the hotel, and he takes the stairs up to Bitty’s floor. Bitty answers Jack’s first knock, and practically pulls him inside.“Let me see your face,” is the first thing out of his mouth. Jack caught a pretty rough check in the last few minutes of the second period. It didn’t require stitches, but he still got a nasty cut on his chin.“Really, Bits, I’m fine,” Jack says, and before Bitty can really examine him, Jack pulls him into a kiss.“You have a good time?”“I did. I learned so much tonight, mainly about the partner group’s dynamics but also you would not believe that Karen—““Bits, I want to hear all of this, but I do only have an hour,” Jack says, moving his hands down to hook his fingers through his belt loops.“Well we could… oh, oh,” Bitty says as Jack’s hands move to his belt buckle.“Yeah, oh,” Jack says, unbuckling Bitty’s pants and pulling them with him as he kneels down.…An hour later, Jack sneaks back into the hotel. He hopes that Tater hasn’t gone to bed yet.“Zimboni! How is little Bee?”Tater is propped up against the headboard of his bed, watching something on the room tv. He smiles when Jack comes in.“He’s uh, he’s great. He… He went out with Carrie, Gabby, and Karen before the game.”“You tell him thank you from me?”“Oh, yeah. I did. He says uh, he says that he’ll be sure to make you another one for tomorrow night.”Tater smiles knowingly at him.“You did not tell Little Bee thank you, Zimboni, but I understand. You shower, and then we turn off lights so coaches do not yell at us, yes?”…The next night the Falconers win in another 2-1 game, so it’s back to Providence for the next two games in the series. If they’re lucky, Jack thinks, they can wrap it up with these two and not have to go back to DC. Bitty’s starting his new job next Monday, and definitely won’t be able to come down to cheer Jack on.They fly into Providence separately, but meet up back home.“You need to nap, Mr. Zimmermann,” Bitty says as soon as he walks in the door. Instead of baking something, like Jack expects him to be doing, he appears to be cleaning up the condo. The blankets they usually have thrown all over their couch are nicely folded. The dining room table looks freshly cleaned, and Jack can hear the washer and dryer going.“What are you doing?” he asks. He should nap, but he can protest later.“Your parents are coming tomorrow, and I will not have this place looking like a pro hockey player’s bachelor pad.”“It’s clean!” “Maybe clean enough for you and me, but not for your parents.”“Bits, my parents really don’t care. You don’t need to stress out about this.”“It’s too late, I already am.”“At least let me help, then.”“You can clean the guest bathroom and put clean sheets on their bed, but only after you’ve taken a nap.”“I clean the bathroom, take a nap, and then puts sheets on the bed and vacuum the entire apartment.”“Thanks, sweetheart.”When his parents arrive the next morning, they’re greeted with the smell of banana bread and a very, very clean condo.“Oh it smells delicious in here, Eric! And so clean!” his mom exclaims as she pulls Eric into a hug. “I just took some banana bread out of the oven!” Eric says, returning the hug. Jack knows Bittle and his mom text regularly, and have been since March of Bittle’s junior year. “Good to see you, Eric,” Jack’s dad says, hugging Eric as soon as his wife is done. “You too, Bob.”Once his parents have stowed their suitcases in the guest room, they all sit in the living room sipping coffee and munching on banana bread. Well, Eric, Jack, and Alicia munch. Bob wolfs half the loaf down. Not for the first time in the past two years Jack thinks I don’t deserve this and I am so, so lucky. Lucky to be here, lucky to have Bittle, lucky to have his parents. He remembers a time when the thought of his parents, especially his dad, coming to a game was enough to give him an anxiety attack. Now, there’s a twinge of unease, but nothing more. Just having Bittle in his life has changed so much.He leaves for the rink around three. The game starts at eight tonight, and he’s nervous, sure, but he knows his team can beat the Caps. It’s just a question of by how much and how quickly.They beat the Caps that night in another 2-1 game. When he comes out of the showers and back into the dressing room, Marty clears his throat to get the team’s attention. “Alright, guys. We’re ahead, so that means we’re going to get asked questions about who we think we’re going to face off against in the finals. Las Vegas is playing San Jose as we speak, and they both have one win with 10:47 left in the second period. When they ask you, you give them the line that we’re taking it one game at a time, and are focusing on beating the Caps right now. Got it?”“Got it,” the rest of the team chimes back.“You played really well tonight, Jack,” his dad says in the car on the way home. Bittle is driving, and Jack is seated in the passenger seat next to him. His parents are both in the back seat.“Thanks, dad,” Jack says. “It was a team effort, though.”“Of course it was. But you’re the only one who’s managed to get the puck past the Cap’s goalie in all three games.”Jack opens his mouth to say something about Tater’s assists and how at least one of those was a lucky shot, but Bitty interrupts him.“Jack, you are not allowed to qualify any compliments anyone in this family gives you until after game four, or I will not make anything that fits into your diet plan.”“Haha, alright,” Jack says, partially because he doesn’t have a clever chirp to come back with, but mostly because Bitty just declared himself part of this family, and Jack will never argue with that.…It’s the intermission between the second and third period. It’s a tie game, 2-2 this time. And Jack never thought he’d say this, but he really doesn’t want to play hockey in three days. Because in three days, Bitty starts his new job, and Jack doesn’t want to be in Washington, DC for that.“Kiddo’s got his game face on,” Thirdy says. “Guys, if there is even a slim chance that Zimboni is going to be able to shoot, get him the goddamn puck.”Jack scores his second goal of the night three minutes into the third period. He checks Oshie a little harder than he normally would, steals the puck, passes to Marty, who scores. They win the game 4-2. Bitty threatens Jack with off-diet baking, and he endures a car ride as the center of attention.The following Monday, Bitty’s alarm goes off before Jack’s. Bitty doesn’t even yawn when he gets up—he must be excited, and he bounces to the bathroom to take a shower. Jack gets up, and moves to the kitchen to make an egg white and spinach omelet for himself, and one with real eggs, onions, bacon, and mushrooms for Bittle with the leftover Gruyere cheese. He times it perfectly—he’s just sliding Bittle’s omelet out of the pan and onto the plate when Bittle comes out of the bedroom, wearing Jack’s robe that’s way too big for him.“I didn’t want to get food on my outfit,” he says, and then sees the two plates sitting on the breakfast bar. “Jack, did you make me breakfast?”“You going to need your protein today,” he replies, filling up a glass of orange juice for each of them. “Well aren’t you just the sweetest thing. Thank you, honey,” he says, standing on his tiptoes to kiss Jack. They eat their breakfast quickly—Bitty has to catch the 7:15 train, and it’s already almost 6:30. He finishes the last of his food and scurries back into the bedroom. Jack puts the plates in the sink, and then opens the bread box to find the fresh loaf of sourdough Bitty baked yesterday.“Alright, how do I look?” Bitty asks a few minutes later.“Like a qualified young professional,” Jack says, instead of "perfect", which he knows won’t be taken seriously. “Damn right I do,” Bitty says. He’s wearing the same outfit he wore to Jack’s graduation two years ago, bowtie and all. The only addition is the leather briefcase his parents got him as a graduation present. “Here’s your lunch,” says Jack, handing Bittle a brand-new Falconers lunch box. “Thanks, sweetie!” Bittle says, taking the box from Jack and opening up the lid to peek inside. “Now I’ll just have to find somewhere to eat it. You think the cool kids will let me sit with them at lunch?”“Bits, by the end of the week the cool kids are going to be begging to sit with you.”“Well let’s hope so, Mr. Zimmermann. Now I need to go catch the shuttle to the train station.”“Wait one sec,” Jack says, reaching for his camera, which he set on the dining room table earlier last night. “We need to take a picture, it’s your first day at work.”Bitty chuckles and rolls his eyes, but lets Jack pose him in front of the door. Jack snaps a few pictures.“Alright, you can go now. Make sure you take a selfie on the train and send it to your mom.”“I won’t forget. See you tonight, sweetheart,” Bitty says, and Jack leans down to kiss him one last time before he’s out the door.There’s a shuttle that goes from the condo complex to the Providence train station a couple of times each morning, so Bitty doesn’t have to worry about getting to the station on time. Maybe Bitty will let Jack buy him a car in a few months, so he doesn’t always have to worry about catching the train. Jack goes on his morning run, comes home, showers, cleans up the kitchen, and heads to the rink for eleven am practice. Today the entire team does conditioning, and then they spend some time in the weight room before settling down to watch the tape of the Sharks/Aces game last night. “It looks like they’re going to play out the entire seven games,” Coach Michel says before he starts the tape up. “Which is good for us, because we’ll have some time to rest and prepare for whatever team we end up facing.”Last night’s game between the Aces and the Sharks ended in a tie. Kent is his usual aggressive self with the puck, but Swift, the Aces goalie, has been out with a knee contusion knee the past two games of the series, and the backup goalie hasn’t found his feet yet. “There’s no reason to hope that Swift will stay injured for the Stanley Cup, if the Aces advance. He’ll probably be back in by game seven.”Both the Aces and the Sharks are looking good, but their styles of playing are so different it’s going to impossible to truly prepare for both. Jack says as much to Marty after the tape ends. As a team they need to work on their basics—they can’t get too cocky—until they find out who they’ll be playing for the cup. “If you want to be the one who tells the team that we’re going to be running drills for the next three days, I won’t object,” Marty says. “Just make sure you bring pie to smooth the feathers you’re going to ruffle.”“Sebastian St. Martin, you told me the exact same thing before we went into tape today. You just want Eric’s pie,” Thirdy says indignantly. “Can’t blame a man for trying,” Marty says, laughing as they head out to the parking lot.Jack gets home a little after three. He still has another four hours until Bittle gets home, so he sets to work. Bittle must be busy, because Jack’s only gotten three texts from him all day, over what he assumes was Bittle’s lunch break.At 5:40 Jack gets a text from Bittle saying his commuter train has just pulled out of South Station, but Jack doesn’t hear Bittle’s key in the lock on the front door until almost seven.“Honey, I’m home!” Bittle calls in a sing-song voice.“How was your first day?” Jack says, appearing and scooping Bittle up into a hug, planting a kiss on his cheek.“Amazing! And I’ll tell you all about it once you put me down.”“Okay,” Jack says, but instead of setting Bittle down he carries him into the kitchen, setting him down to sit on the counter top. “That is not what I meant,” Bittle says, but he’s smiling as he toes his shoes off. “Jack, it smells delicious in here.”“I made us dinner,” Jack says, nodding over at the table out on the balcony, which is all set. “I was just waiting until you got home to put the shrimp in and toss the salad. It’s so warm out I thought we could eat outside.”“You have the best ideas, Jack Zimmermann. But it almost smells like cobbler in here.”“Oh, I made peach cobbler for dessert.”From his perch on the counter, Bitty reaches out, grabs Jack by the shirt collar, and pulls him into a kiss.“I love you, Jack, you know that, right?” Bitty smiles into his mouth when they break for air.“I love you too, Bits.”They eat dinner on their balcony that night, sipping white wine and watching the sunset. Bitty tells Jack he’ll “make a baker out of you yet,” when he tastes the cobbler, and Jack beams like he’s just won the Stanley Cup.Later, they’re cleaning up the dishes when Bittle’s mom calls.“Hey, Mama!” Bitty says.Jack can’t hear what Suzanne says next, but he hears Bittle’s answer.“Oh it was wonderful. Jack got up early and made me breakfast and packed me a lunch in this adorable little Falconers lunchbox, and then when I got home he’d made dinner and a peach cobbler that’s makes me think I’ll make him into a southern cook yet.”Again, Jack doesn’t hear Suzanne’s answer, but Bittle laughs at whatever she said.“Of course I’m gonna tell you ‘bout what actually went on at work. First part of the day was mostly HR stuff, but I have a desk near some of the other editorial assistants and the kitchen in this place, the ovens are works of art…”Bittle and Suzanne chat for another hour before Bittle says “Well, I gotta get up at five thirty again, so I need to get to sleep…. Oh mama, I can’t afford to live anywhere in Boston that won’t involve at least thirty minutes on the T, so it’s not too much different. Alright, love you too, mama, say hi to Coach for me.”“Are you trying to prepare her for when you don’t move to Boston in September?” Jack asks. He’s sitting on the couch, reading a new WWII monograph Shitty had snagged for him at some signing at Harvard.“Yes,” Bittle says, flopping down onto the couch and putting his head in Jack’s lap. “Do you think they’ll figure it out?”“Part of me hopes so, part of me doesn’t. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”“I’m with you whatever you decide to do, Bits,” Jack says, and Bittle smiles up at him, reaching up to pull his face down to meet his. Jack expects the kiss to be sweet, and it is, but only for a moment before Bittle’s tongue is pushing its way into Jack’s mouth, in way that can only mean one thing.“I thought you said you needed to go to bed,” Jack says, a little breathless. Bittle raises his eyebrows, takes a hold a Jack’s right wrist, where he wears his watch, and pulls it close to his face, pretending to take a long look at it.“Well, your bedtime’s not for another hour, but I suppose—“Jack doesn’t let him finish....Jack hasn’t really been paying attention to the Aces/Sharks series, but late Saturday night, just after they’ve finished up a movie, Bitty’s phone starts ringing, the caller id showing “Farmer.”Bitty answers almost immediately. “Farmer? What’s up?”“We have a Chris emergency, Bitty. I’m not sure what to do.”“Hold on, Caitlin, let me put you on speaker,” Bitty says.“Can you hear me? Is Jack there?” Famer asks. Somehow she sounds both resigned and frantic.“I’m here, what’s wrong with Chowder?” Jack asks.“Are you guys together? What’s happened?” Bitty adds.“I came over to his place to watch the final Sharks/Aces game.”“But the Sharks won,” Bitty says.“Exactly. And Chris realized that the Sharks will be playing the Falconers and Jack. He’s just been staring at the black tv screen since I turned it off.”“How long has it been?” Bitty asks.“About thirty minutes. I can see the wheels turning in his head, it’s—““Farmer, Chowder can root for the Sharks. I’m not one to get in the way of that kind of love,” Jack says.“Oh thank God. Do you mind telling him that? It might be able to jolt him out of this.”“Sure, put him on.”Jack and Bitty hear Farmer walking down a hallway, and then a “Hey, Chris? I got Bitty and Jack on the phone.” They can’t really hear what Chowder says to this, but a moment later Farmer puts her phone on speaker.“Chowder, are you there?” Jack asks.“Oh Jack, I, wow, Jack, you’re going to be playing against the Sharks.”“This time next week bud.”“Yeah, and that’s really great! Obviously! And you’re one of my good friends and you’re Bitty’s boyfriend and you gave me your dibs and I—““Chowder,” Jack interrupts. “You can root for the Sharks. They’re your home team, you probably love them as much as you love Farmer.”“More than he loves Farmer. I’m the other woman in this relationship,” Farmer teases.“Caitlin! I don’t—““Chowder, Jack won’t be sad, disappointed, offended, or anything if you root for the Sharks,” Bitty says. “Right, Jack?”“Yeah. Chowder, you should root for the Sharks. No hard feelings, but I can’t promise not to beat them.”“Oh no! I wouldn’t expect you to lose just for me! But I promise I won’t be glad if someone checks you or anything.”“May the best team win, Chowder. Now get up off the couch and hang out with your girlfriend.”“Aye aye, Captain!” Chowder calls. Caitlin takes the phone off speaker.“Thanks, guys, I think he’s back to normal now.”“No problem, Farmer. Have a good night,” Jack says.“Night, Farmer!” Bitty calls.“Night, you two. Talk to you later.”She hangs up, and Bitty and Jack each let loose a laugh that they’d been holding in for the past few minutes.“That sweet child. I wish he was closer. He needs a pie.”“You should ask Farmer to send you pictures of Chowder watching the game. I bet his faces will be prime chirping material.”“Boy is already going to be a wreck come the cup finals. Let’s not torture him anymore than he’s torturing himself.”…The first two games of the Stanley Cup take place in Providence: Tater and Thirdy guilt-tripped Bitty into making PB&J sandwiches for the entire team before the first game.“But what if I give y’all food poisoning?” Bitty cries as he takes a second loaf of bread out of the oven. “Or what if y’all win and I have to make sandwiches before every game for the rest of my life??”“Only before playoff games, Bittle,” Jack says, stealing a spoonful of homemade grape jam.“Hey, leave some of that for your old man,” Jack dad’s admonishes, swiping the jar from Jack.Bitty and Alicia look at each other and exchange perfectly coordinated put-upon sighs.The Falconers do win that night, 3-1. They win the next night, too, 5-2. The next day, Bitty gives Jack a fresh loaf of bread to take to San Jose, but tells him “There is perfectly good peanut butter and jelly on the West Coast. Not as good as mine, of course, but I’m sure you can manage. Unfortunately, Tater discovers the loaf of bread on the plane ride to San Jose, and before Jack knows it it’s almost all gone. He had to fight to make sure there was enough leftover for two small sandwiches.They have a day to get used to the time difference and to get some time on the ice. His parents are both here again, so Jack goes out to do some touristy stuff with them and grab an early dinner before ten pm curfew. He sends Bittle pictures of everywhere he goes, and even tries to take a selfie with his mom.Just after he gets back to the hotel, his phone starts going off. The SMH group shat is buzzing.Chowder: jack!!! oh my god jack thank you!!!!!Below the initial message is a picture of four tickets, two for game three and two for game four.Holster: Shit man. Those are rink-side seats.Ransom: How come we don’t get seats like that?!Bittle: Do you live in San Jose, Ransom?Ransom: No! But I live in Boston! A city easily accessible to Providence, Rhode Island, where my friend Jack PLAYS HOCKEY IN THE NHLShitty: Let Bitty and Jack spoil their first and only son, Ransom.Lardo: Pretty sure Jack’s blacklisted you from games after the Mashkov IncidentRansom: I WAS NOT EXPECTING A LARGE RUSSIAN D MAN TO SHOW UP AND COMPLIMENT MY OUTFIT OKAYHolster: I lost all respect for Mashkov when he said he liked your salmon shortsLardo: The man does wear ostentatious gold chains, what did you expect?Holster: More tracksuits, less obnoxious prep?Bittle: Alexei is a sweetheart and I won’t hear a word against him. Chowder, you have to make sure to take pictures!Chowder: I will Bitty I promise!Me: You’re welcome, Chowder. Enjoy the gameMe: Bits, before you defend Tater’s honor you should know he stole most of the bread you madeBittle: ... Well if y’all lose we’ll know who to blame...They do lose, 2-1. Jack plays well enough, but none of the Falconers are connecting with the puck like they usually do, and they just feel out of sync. It’s a hard loss, somehow made even harder by seeing the look on Chowder’s face as Jack leaves the rink. It’s a mixture of glee and shame.Later that night, Jack skypes Bitty, even though it’s almost 2 am in Providence.“You’ll do better tomorrow night, sweetheart. And you did score, so that’s something to be thankful for.”“My personal success doesn’t make me feel any better about everyone as a team. But you need to sleep, and there’s one more thing we need to talk about.”“What’s that?”“The fact that I have actual paternal feelings towards Chowder. What have you done to me, Bittle?”The sound of Bitty’s laugh means Jack doesn’t go to bed too anxious. …The next day before the game, Chowder sends another picture to the group chat. It’s a selfie that clearly shows he’s wearing a Falconers t-shirt under his Sharks jersey.Shitty: Don’t let anyone sitting near you see that. I don’t want to hear you’ve been shamed by angry Sharks fans.Nursey: They’re not going to actually hurt him.Shitty: No, but all someone has to do is tell him he’s not a “real fan” and our poor Chowder will melt into a puddle of shame.Nursey: Fair enough …The Falconers still lose 2-1. Jack doesn’t score that night, but he gets an assist. ...The next night, Jack gets home before Bitty. He’s so tired he leaves his bag in the hall, goes to the bedroom, shucks off everything but his boxers, and crawls into bed.When he wakes up, there’s the barest hint of sunlight seeping through the curtains, and his face is mushed up against a striped tank top he’s very familiar with.“Hello, sleepyhead,” Bittle says, running his hand through Jack’s hair. Jack doesn’t reply, just nuzzles into Bittle even more in the hopes that he’ll keep massaging Jack’s head. He does. Perfect.Bittle doesn’t ask Jack about the games. Instead, he talks about the company-wide camping trip he’s going on in August. It’s an annual thing, apparently.“Have to thank my lucky stars I went on so many overnight camping and fishing trips with Coach and my cousins. I can make anything over a campfire.”“Don’t try anything too fancy. Part of the charm of camping is roasting hot dogs on sticks, right?”“Mmhmm. And s’mores. But Danny was talking about a chili he makes every year so I volunteered to make cornbread.”“Sounds like fun. And it’s in August?”“Mmmhmm. First weekend. So it’ll be well before the season starts. Think the team could spare you?” Bittle says like he already knows the answer.“Even if they couldn’t, I’m not passing up the opportunity to see you try to camp.”“I’ve been camping more than you. How many times have you been camping?”“There was that one time with Shitty-““Going to the Knight family cabin in the Green Mountains does not count.”“Well then I guess you’re just going to show me your rugged Georgia ways. Do you still have your camo jacket or did you burn it?”“It is still down in Georgia, thank you very much. Now, tell your rugged Georgia gentleman what kind of delivery you want so he can order it with his phone app.” …The next morning, Jack is surprised when Bittle wakes him up before his alarm. It’s a Saturday, so he doesn’t have to go to work.“Wake up, Mr. Zimmermann. We’re going for a run.”“What?” Jack says, sitting up. Bittle is standing next to the bed, wearing an old Samwell Under Armour top and shorts that are just so short.“We’re going on a run. You’ve basically been asleep since you got home yesterday. Put your awful running shoes on so we can get back before it gets too hot.”Bitty leaves the room and Jack obediently does as he’s told. When he comes out to the kitchen, Bitty is already doing warm up stretches.“Never thought you’d be the one to wake me up at 4 am,” Jack says, positioning himself to get the best view while he stretches.“It is six am, for your information. And stop ogling my ass and stretch.”Once they’ve sufficiently warmed up, Bitty puts a lanyard with his key around his neck, and walks out the door. After he locks up, he turns to Jack.“Alright first one down the stairs and out the door gets to pick where we run today,” and before Jack knows it, Bitty is off. Chasing Bittle to the end of the hall, Jack barely manages to save the door to the stairway from slamming shut, and Bittle is still easily half a flight below him.“Don’t trip!” Bitty calls unhelpfully.Bitty is as fast as ever, and waves cheerfully to Morris, the weekend front desk attendant, as he easily beats Jack out the door. Bitty isn’t even panting, doesn’t look tired.“You’ve been running while I was gone?” Jack asks.“It was that or cover every surface of our condo with pie,” Bitty says, smiling. “Now, let’s go run down by the river.”They run a good three miles that morning, about average for Jack. Bittle’s pace makes him faster than usual, and they’re both drenched with sweat by the time they break for cool-down, drinking copiously from one of the water fountains.“Let’s walk back home,” Bitty says.Jack wishes he could hold Bittle’s hand, or wrap his arm around his waist. But there are people around.“Why’d you wake me up this early? I have practice at eleven.”“As much as I don’t miss broody, distant playoff-Jack,” Bitty begins, looking a little nervous. “I don’t know, you seemed like you were kind of in a funk. Like you’re playing the games but not playing.”“You think I’m not putting 100% in?”“Jack, you don’t do 100%, you do 110%. You’re putting in the effort, but it doesn’t look like you’re enjoying it. It just looks like you’re treating it as something you have to get through, at least when you were playing in San Jose.”Jack considers this for a moment as they cross the street. He considers it until they’re almost at the door to their building. Bittle, who’s learned that Jack’s silence doesn’t necessarily mean anger, lets him think.“You’re right,” Jack says as they walk inside. Bitty presses the button to call the elevator, and it opens almost immediately. “I don’t know. I guess I was just expecting there to be more pressure? And there isn’t. It’s almost like each one is just another game,” he says once they’re safely inside the elevator.“You made it to the playoffs your first year in the NHL. You didn’t screw up, you didn’t carry the team on your back, you didn’t have a visible rivalry with Kent Parson, and you didn’t crack under pressure. You played good hockey, you played great hockey. And this year you’re in the Stanley Cup finals, and you’re still not cracking, like the press and certain asses on ESPN expected you to,” Bitty says, and of course he’s right. The elevator dings, signaling their arrival on their floor. They walk down the hall in silence, but as soon as the door is closed, Bittle speaks again.“You have incredibly high expectations for yourself, Jack. But they’ve finally gotten to be healthy expectations. Look around this apartment, there’s not a ‘Be Better’ poster to be seen,” Bitty says, smiling and standing up on his toes cup Jack’s face. “But you’ve been scrutinized by other people since the day you were born, people who frankly should have better things to do with their lives. You have the drive and the talent to be one of the best players in the NHL—don’t stall because the weight of expectation is suddenly gone.”Jack nods, leaning into Bitty’s touch.“You are in the Stanley Cup Finals. Play the game you love in the Stanley Cup finals.”All Jack can really do is kiss Bitty. He doesn’t have the words to express what he means otherwise.They shower together, and Bitty makes them a massive egg scramble for breakfast, with bacon and spicy sausage, peppers, cheese, and mushrooms. Jack goes to practice and plays his heart out. When he gets home he’s still wired, so he does push-ups with Bitty sitting on his back, and Bitty recording the entire thing.“One day I am going to post this on twitter, and the internet will explode,” Bitty proudly proclaims.The Falconers face the Sharks in Providence on Sunday night. As he skates out onto the ice, Jack looks up to where Bitty, his parents, Shitty, and Lardo are sitting. Shitty brought the “Yo Marry Me Jack Zimmermann” sign, and he waves it wildly whenever a camera happens to be pointed at him. Since he’s sitting with Bob and Alicia Zimmermann, he’s almost always waving the sign.The puck drops, and Jack wrests it away, passes it back to Tater. Passes to Poots. Stolen by Pavelski. Passed to Marleau. Jack skates up alongside him, catches the puck as he tries to pass. Jack passes it to Tater. Passes to Marty. Jack skates up towards the San Jose goal, Burns trailing him. Marty passes to Thirdy. Jack feints, lets Burns pass him. Gets open, receives from Marty, skates around the goal, sees Burns and Martin coming towards him, swerves, shoots, scores.Thirdy comes up for the first bump, and Jack looks up at where his people are sitting. Shitty is practically foaming at the mouth, Lardo’s doing her “not bad, Zimmermann,” nod, his parents are cheering, and Bittle is beaming.The rest of the period is decidedly less simple. Marty, Thirdy, and Tater all take shots, but all are blocked. Snowy is exposed more often then he should be, but he doesn’t let anything past him.After intermission, Marty takes the faceoff. Jack’s thankful for it. But he gets the puck soon enough, somehow avoids a check that sends a San Jose player slamming into the boards, passes to Marty. Marty passes it to Poots. Poots to Tater. Tater skates up the rink. Tater to Marty. Burns checks Marty, Marleau has the puck. Now Thirdy. Thirdy passes to Jack, who passes to Marty, who scores.The Sharks make them pay for it. Jack has the puck again, and has just passed it off to Poots when someone slams into him, hitting him so hard against the boards that the guy sitting just beyond the glass drops his beer.The ref blows his whistle, sends the player to the penalty box. Before he’s out of the box, Jack scores again. He can’t resist skating by the sin bin and raising his eyebrows and smirking.It’s not quite a shutout. The Sharks get one past Snowy in the first few minutes of the third period, but Jack answers that goal with one of his own, plus a very satisfying check to steal the puck from the player who sent him crashing into the boards earlier.The final score is 3-1. At the presser afterwards, Jack gives the short, brusque answers he’s known for, but there’s more energy behind it now. He’s keyed up, wired like he usually is after a win, after a satisfying game.He emerges from press at almost ten pm, and everyone is waiting for him.“That goal! That smirk! Jacko, that smirk was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” Shitty says, launching himself into Jack’s arms.Behind Jack, Poots wolf whistles. “Looks like you’d better be careful there, Bittle. Someone’s out to steal your man, now that we’re only steps away from the Cup.”“Don’t you dare jinx this!” Marty yells, throwing a sweaty towel at Poots.“Jack is safe from this idiot,” Lardo says, “The same cannot be said for me, though.”“I am so proud of you,” Shitty says again.Jack, Bitty, Alicia, and Bob carpool back to the boys’ apartment. They all go to their respective bedrooms almost immediately—Bitty has to work in the morning, after all, and Jack has another cross-continental flight to look forward to.“I am so proud of you, honey,” Bitty says as Jack closes their bedroom door, locking it with a satisfying click. “It looked like you were really—“But whatever Bittle was going to say dies on his lips as Jack yanks him close and starts kissing him in a hungry, possessive way.“I know you have to go to work in the morning, but crisse, je veux—““Oh god yes,” Bitty says, yanking Jack down by his shirt collar. Jack lifts Bitty up and slams him against the wall when Bittle wraps his legs around his waist. Tabarnak ...Jack gets up with Bitty the next morning, and makes him breakfast and lunch. Jack drives Bittle to the train station, and they have a few minutes to kill, so Jack pulls into a parking spot and lets the car idle.“How do you feel about tomorrow’s game?” Bittle asks.“I think we can wrap it up. I want to prove we can win on San Jose ice,” Jack replies.“Of course you can, and of course you want to,” Bitty says. “Just watch out for number nineteen, okay? His eyes were shooting daggers at you last night.”“I will, I promise.”Bitty glances at his watch. “Skype me once you’re in for the night. And for goodness sakes, do a better job at hiding the loaf of bread I made you.”“Alright. And don’t worry, I’m pretty sure the entire team thinks touching your bread before game day is bad luck now.”Bittle smiles, and leans forward over the center console. Jack meets him for a kiss, sweet and slow and perfect.“Good luck, Jack. I love you,” Bitty says, giving Jack’s hand a quick squeeze before climbing out of the car. He dashes across the street and waves before he heads into the station.Jack drives home. He has to be at the rink at nine to catch the team bus to the airport, so he has an hour or so to pack up his stuff. Not like he’ll need much—all of his gear gets packed up at the rink, and he’ll only be gone forty-eight hours, so he really just needs to pack the basics.His dad is sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the paper, when Jack gets in.“How’s the commute working out for Eric?” he asks.“It’s not ideal, but once he gets into Boston he doesn’t have far to go. Plus he loves what he does, so that definitely helps,” Jack says, making his way to their bedroom, and leaving the door open so that his dad knows he can follow him.“How are you feeling about the game tomorrow?” he asks next.“Honestly? Pretty good. Motivated to wrap it up,” Jack replies, pulling his duffel bag out from under the bed. “We can win this, but we’re all getting tired.”“Playoffs never stop getting draining. Even when you’ve got the momentum it’s exhausting.”“Exactly,” Jack says, pulling some socks and underwear out of his drawer and placing them in the bag.“You and Eric have any plans for the summer, after everything wraps up?”“Not really. Bits hasn’t really accumulated any vacation days, so that rules out any big vacations. Maybe next year, though.”“I think your mom always started to get sick of me during the off season. She used to make up errands for me to get me out of the house.”“Haha I remember. Hopefully it’ll take Bits a bit longer to get sick of me.”“As long as you don’t lay around on the couch like sad, bored puppy, he won’t,” Alicia says, appearing at the door with her own cup of coffee.“If I looked like a puppy, does that at least mean I was cute?” Bob asks.“Cute until you flooded the kitchen after insisting you could ‘fix’ the garbage disposal.”“And have I ever tried fix any appliances again?”“Hmm I guess not. But only because I gave you errands to run and you took the hint. Does anyone mind if I eat the last of that coffee cake Eric made?”“No, go right ahead,” Jack says, and Bob nods in agreement.Alicia leaves the room and Bob turns to Jack,“Jack,” he begins, “no matter what happens in these next two games, you know I’m proud of you, right?”“Of course, Papa, I do.”“Good,” Bob says, stepping forward and pulling Jack into a tight hug. “Because I am. You’re a better player than I could ever hope to be. I may have had the talent, but I never had the drive, not in the way you do. I am so, so proud of you.”“Thanks, Papa,” Jack says, hugging his father back.The Zimmermann family leaves the condo together. Alicia and Bob rented a car, so they drop Jack off at the rink, and then heard on to the airport. Jack loads himself onto a bus, and gets ready for another trans-continental flight. …The Falconers’ plane lands in San Jose at four pm San Jose time, and the coaches make it clear that no one gets to leave to screw around. They get to the hotel, are told there’s going to be a team dinner at seven, and are left to their own devices until then, as long as they don’t leave the actual hotel. Jack heads down to the weight room with Poots, where they spot each other for a bit. Then there’s another shower and the team dinner.Sometimes Jack forgets that most of the guys on his team are younger than 27, and that despite the hard work, dedication, and discipline they have, things can devolve into dick jokes pretty quickly. Still, it’s a fun dinner, and afterwards Tater excuses himself to go sit by the pool, giving Jack the perfect opportunity to skype Bitty.Bitty answers on the second ring. He’s got his tablet set up in the kitchen, where it looks like he’s baking up a storm.“I thought you were running instead of baking,” Jack chirps.“Shitty, Lardo, Ransom, Holster, and Dex are all coming over tomorrow night to watch the game!” Bittle says cheerfully. “And I wouldn’t be a good host if I didn’t provide them food.”“What are you making?”“Apple pie, blueberry muffins, and sugar cookies,” Bitty says, holding up a cookie in each hand. They both have white icing, and Falconer-blue jersey numbers and names—the one in Bitty’s left hand says “Zimmermann,” the one in his right says “Mashkov.”“Shitty and Lardo are bringing chips and salsa, Dex is brining a vegetable plate, and Ransom and Holster are bringing ‘all the alcohol,’” Bitty says, doing air quotes around Ransom and Holster’s offering. “Plus we’re going to order pizza.”“Sounds like quite a spread. Our team dinner wasn’t nearly as good.”They talk for another hour, describing their days. Bitty is currently trying to get some cookbook author to revise her ingredients because “focaccia dough is tricky and she can’t just leave everything so ambiguous.” He went out for lunch with Ransom because he was visiting an office in Bitty’s building, and he’s in the middle of describing the lobster roll he ate when we lets out a huge yawn.“You should sleep, Bits. It’s past midnight there.”“Mmm you’re right,” Bitty says, putting the last of the muffins into a Tupperware container and heading to the bedroom.“Did you guys get rink time today, or not until tomorrow morning?” he asks, taking off his clothes and putting on his pajama pants and one of Jack’s t-shirts.“Tomorrow morning. We’re all captives in the hotel for tonight.”“You bunking with Tater again?” Bitty calls from the bathroom. Jack hears the tap run and the sounds of Bitty brushing his teeth.“Yeah. He’s down by the pool with some puck bunnies I think. I should check on him if he isn’t back soon. There was one woman who was definitely eyeing him all through dinner.”“Tater can take care of himself,” Bitty says, climbing into bed and taking the tablet with him.“He can, but it could be our last game tomorrow. I don’t want him to be distracted. Or tired.”“Well if it makes you feel better, go find him,” Bitty says, burrowing himself under the covers. “You guys’ll blow them all away tomorrow, mark my words.”“As long as we’re not out all night we will. And I’ll feel better knowing you’ve gotten some sleep, too.”“Alright sweetheart. G’night, then. If I don’t get to talk to you before tomorrow’s game, score some goals for me,” Bittle mumbles, already half asleep.“I will. G’night, Bits, love you.”“I love you, too.” ...Jack scores three goals for Bitty, one in each period. The last comes seconds before the final buzzer. Before Jack knows it confetti is raining from the ceiling and hundreds of Falconer’s hats are being thrown down onto the ice. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Chowder, who looks like he’s about to cry. Tater slams into him, followed by Thirdy, Marty, Snowy, the rest of the team. They’ve just won The Stanley Cup. They’ve done it. They did it in six games.Jack honestly feels like he could cry right now. Not because he’s sad, but because… well happy doesn’t even begin to cover it. He’s spent his entire life working towards this moment, even that year when he didn’t know if it would be possible. And he’s just proven what everyone thought, what everyone was expecting, was wrong. He just proved all of these people wrong, but… But they did it. And as he drowns in his teammates he finds he can’t actually be bothered to give a shit about what all these people have said about him. They’ve done it, they’ve all worked hard and played hard and my god is victory sweet.The only thing that could really make this moment better is if Bittle were here.He isn’t here, but when Jack lifts the Stanley Cup over his head, he takes a minute to look into the camera focused on him, something he doesn’t usually do. He imagines Bittle watching at home, imagines Bittle saying “I told you so.” Pictures his face when he tells him the hat trick was for him. He pictures Bittle filling the space in their kitchen and their condo and their bed.Jack pictures all of this, and smiles at Bittle. Even if the rest of the world sees that smile, Bittle will know what it means. …The next day, Jack gets home before Bittle again. Georgia had scheduled an early charter flight the morning after game six, just in case game seven came back to Providence. But the win means they leave San Jose early and arrive mid-afternoon. There’s an event at the airport, and Jack just feels like he’s above all of it.The team takes the bus back to the rink, where they watch as the Cup is stowed safely in the GM’s office. In a few days there’s going to be a parade through Providence, and a ceremony where the Cup will be put in some high-tech display case for the summer, but for now it’s more quiet and intimate. Jack will get his cup day in a few weeks, and he’s not sure what he wants to do with it yet. He’ll have to talk to Bitty about it.One of the team cars drops Jack off at his building, and like he thought, he’s made it home just before Bitty. He doesn’t know what to do, he still feels like he’s buzzing out of his skin. He rereads Bitty’s text from last night and today. Rereads Shitty’s. Lardo’s. The group chat. And Bitty really should be home right now. He’s late.Jack sits on the couch, opens up the WWII book he’s been working his way through. Closes it again. And then he hears a key scraping in the lock, and he’s off the couch in a minute. Bittle walks through the door, messenger bag slung over one shoulder and holding a reusable grocery bag in the other. His face lights up as the he lets the door slam shut behind him and Jack picks him up twirls him around.“Congratulations, Jack!” Bitty cries, sounding as excited as Jack feels. “I am so proud of you, you—“Jack doesn’t let him finish. He’s won the Stanley Cup. He’s kissing Bittle. Bittle lives here with him. Bittle lives in their house. It’s everything Jack never thought he could have and never knew he wanted.“Hi,” he breathes, and he hopes Bittle understands him, because adequate words are truly beyond him now.“Hi,” Bittle says back, breathless and flushed and beautiful. Jack’s still holding him up, and for once Bitty isn’t squawking about setting him down.“You… You’re late,”Bittle rolls his eyes, but holds up the reusable shopping bag.“I had to stop by Stop & Shop. I got you chicken tenders,” Bittle says, smiling and laughing a little about how ridiculous Jack is. “I figured since you won a Stanley Cup and all, you can have one cheat day.”... The rest of the summer is, to put it simply, glorious. After the parade through Providence, which Jack doesn’t hate as much as he thought he would, he has a full month off. During that time he has his Cup Day. What he wants is for Bittle to make crème brulee in it (he’s apparently figured out how), but the fans will expect pictures and there’s someone accompanying the Cup at all times, so that’s a no-go. Instead, in a nod to his alma mater, he and Bittle drive the Cup up to Samwell, invite Lardo, Shitty, Ransom, and Holster, and they sit by the Pond having a picnic on a hot New England afternoon. It’s quiet and low-key and everything Jack likes. He brings his camera, and even though he means to take photos of the cup, his camera, as always, seems to hone in on Bittle. Lardo picks up on this, and has Bittle switch places with her, so that he’s sitting next to the cup for the last part of the afternoon.They establish an off-season routine. Jack wakes up with Bittle every morning, takes the shuttle to the train station with him, and then does a morning run around Providence. He has practice every couple of days, but they’re mostly optional for June and the first part of July. When he’s not practicing or running, he reads, or walks around Providence taking photos. In the evening, Jack has dinner waiting for Bittle when he gets home from work, and after they clean the kitchen they sit and do whatever the hell they want in their own home.They even have the finances conversation. They’re not getting a joint bank account or anything, but Bittle decides that he’s going to pay for any and all utilities. He wanted to pay part of the mortgage, originally, and Jack told him he was welcome to, if Bittle agreed to joint ownership of the condo. Bittle huffed, and decided on utilities instead.In early August, Bittle goes on his company-wide camping trip. They decide it’s best not to bring Jack along just yet—his face is all over New England, all over the continent, and as much as they’d like to, they can’t trust everyone on the company retreat just yet.The day after Bittle gets back, his mom calls.“Oh it was so much fun, Mama,” Bitty says, smiling as he peers into the oven to check the doneness of a pie he’s baking. “Danny made chili, and I made cornbread, and oh Mimi gave everyone a tutorial about how to get your marshmallow perfect for a s’more. I tell ya, that girl has it down to a science. Mama, I’m gonna put you on speaker while I finish up this pie,” Bittle says, setting his phone down on the counter and putting on some oven mitts.“You talk about this Mimi a lot, and I saw you post the cutest pictures together on facebook! You two have a standing lunch date, don’t you?” Suzanne says, her voice a little garbled by the speaker setting.“Oh she’s such a treat. And yeah we’ve been trying a new lunch place each week. She found this new little café up in Beacon Hill that does fruit tarts that are to die for.”“It’s a shame you live so far away, just imagine the trouble you two could get up to if you were in Boston all the time!”“Oh, well Providence isn’t that far, and she lives up in Salem, so it’s not like she’s always in the city.”“Have you found a place in Boston? September is only a couple of weeks away!”“I’ve been lookin’, but everywhere in my price range is either just as far away as Providence or a total pig sty. I know I lived with a bunch of hockey jocks all through college, but everyone I’ve reached out to would do unholy things to my kitchen.“And besides, I like living here. To tell ya the truth, I think Jack gets awful lonely. He needs someone around to make sure he does his laundry, and to water his plants while he’s on the road,” Bittle says, throwing Jack a huge wink.“Well, I’m sure something’ll turn up eventually,” Suzanne says. “I gotta run, sweetie pie. It’s my book club tonight.”“Tell all the ladies I said hi! And don’t let Sarah Grace Richards tell you her angel food cake is better. Yours is obviously the best.”Suzanne laughs good naturedly. “Alright, Dickie. Love you, say hello to Jack for me.”“Will do, Mama, bye!”Bittle hangs up, and slices him and Jack two huge slices of pie. They’ve barely sat down on the couch to eat, though, when Bittle’s phone rings again.“It’s Coach,” Bittle says, his brow furrowing. “Guess I better see what he wants.”“Hey, Daddy,” Bittle says, answering the phone. “What’s up?”Bittle doesn’t put his father on speaker, but Jack’s already wrapped around him, and Bittle doesn’t bother to move. Jack can hear everything.“Son, you have a minute?” Coach Bittle asks.“Sure? What do you want to talk about?”“Your mama told me that you haven’t found your own place yet.”“Oh, yeah. I still have some student loans to pay down, and everything in my price range in Boston so far has been too expensive or too gross. I’m sure something’ll turn up.”“You have two and a half weeks, Junior. That’s not much time.”“Oh, well, if I live here for awhile longer, it’s not the end of the world. Jack’s starting preseason soon, and he likes having someone here to look after things while he’s gone. Once I’ve saved up enough I’ll be able to find my own place.”“Are you paying rent?”“Jack won’t let me, but I pay for all the utilities and most of the groceries.”There’s silence on the other end of the line. Bittle, instead of trying to fill it, waits.“Junior,” Coach Bittle finally says, “You can’t just live with Jack Zimmermann for as long as you want.”“Oh… I know. Just ‘til I can afford to live in Boston without having four roommates and no kitchen.”“And you’re saving money by not paying rent now?”“Well, yes.”“Junior, a man pays his own way. You may not be living in your dream home right off the bat, but a man pays his own way.”“It’s just ‘til some more of my student loans are paid down, and I—““You didn’t have to go to Samwell. You could have gone to Athens or Valdosta and had in-state tuition. You chose to go to Samwell. Your actions have consequences, Junior.”“I… know, Coach.”“You find somewhere to live sooner rather than later, okay?”“I… yes, sir,” Bitty says.And Jack’s heart breaks. Because in this moment, Bitty has drawn into himself. He looks smaller than he really is, and some of the light and warmth that Jack has so come to associate with Bitty is just… dimmed. It’s not gone, but it’s dim.“Good. Call us in a few weeks to let us know how your search is going.”“Will do. ‘Night, Coach,” Bitty says, hanging up before his father has a chance to say goodbye.“Bits,” Jack says as Bittle fights back tears. “Bits, you know that doesn’t mean anything, right? Not… Not here, anyway.”“I need to tell them,” Bittle sniffs. “It’s not fair to them if I don’t.”“It’s not fair to you.”“I know.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- They have a plan now.Bitty is going to go home for Labor Day weekend. He and Jack will fly down together Saturday. It’s before the season starts, even before the preseason starts, so they have time. Only Bitty will go to Madison, though.“You don’t have to come,” Bitty says, quiet and small into Jack’s chest as they lay in bed.“Of course I do, Bits. You don’t have to be alone for this.”“But if we both go, and I, you know, come out, it’s like they’re ganged up on.”Jack doesn’t point out that it’s just as likely Bitty will actually be ganged up on.“Then I’ll fly down with you and wait in Atlanta. If all goes well, I can come and we can all talk about it together.”“You’re going to come down with me no matter what I say, so I won’t argue,” Bittle says.So they fly down on Saturday. Bittle is renting a car—Jack doesn’t want him stranded in the middle of nowhere Georgia, should the worst happen. They check into a hotel downtown, and after Bitty drives off, Jack walks around the old Olympic park, taking photo after photo.Bittle doesn’t call until past midnight.“How’s it going?” Jack says.“They can tell something’s off. It’s so awful, Jack,” Bittle says. He sounds nervous and almost on the verge of tears. Jack can picture him huddled under his covers, Señor Bun pulled close, the comforter muffling any sound.Jack knows a pep talk isn’t exactly what Bittle needs right now. So Jack tries to reassure him that everything will be fine, that his parents love him, no matter what. Never mind that he doesn’t entirely believe it.“I’m going to do it tomorrow,” Bittle says. “I promise.”“You don’t have to promise me anything, Bits. You know what’s best for you.”“I love you, Jack.”“I love you too, Bits.” …Jack wakes up at six. He’s too nervous to fall back asleep. So he runs. He runs until the day is gross and hot and sticky and unbearable. At nine he gets a text from Bits saying the family is headed to church. At ten he steps into the shower.He gets out at 10:22. No text from Bittle. No call.At eleven, he texts Shitty, and the two of them try to figure out how long church services usually take.At noon, he goes to one of the restaurants near the hotel and gets a sandwich. Still no messages.At one, he sends a text to Bittle with a heart emoji.At two, he’s about to find himself a car and drive to Madison. At ten after, he gets a text.Bittle: I’m headed back to Atlanta. I’ll see you in a few hours.Jack calls immediately, but Bittle doesn’t pick up. He’s probably driving. Jack doesn’t know if Bittle should be driving right now, but he sends him a text anyway.Me: Alright. I’m at the hotel. See you soon. <3It’s about an hour and a half from Madison to Atlanta. Jack knows he should probably leave the room—he feels like a caged animal. But he doesn’t want to run the risk of missing Bittle. Jack knows that Bittle coming back now, without telling Jack anything about how it all went, isn’t anything but a bad sign, he just doesn’t know how bad. He wants to find a car and meet Bittle on the highway. He wants to round up Shitty, Ransom, and Holster and go to Madison to intimidate a certain high school football coach. Hell, he could probably get Tater and some of his other teammates to come with him. He wants to call his mom, he wants to go to Madison to make this better somehow.He wants to do something.But he can’t. He can’t rent a car and risk passing Bits on the highway. He can’t magically get everyone in New England who loves Bittle here in the next hour to go intimidate a man who Jack hopes will be his father-in-law someday. He can’t call his mom until he knows more, until he knows what Bittle wants people to know. He can’t go to Madison because maybe the Bittles see him as the cause of all of this.Still, if Suzanne and Richard are looking for someone to blame, Jack would rather they blame him than Bittle.Not that they should be blaming anyone for anything.At four, Jack finally hears Bittle’s keycard sliding into the lock. In an instant, Jack is on his feet, ready with his arms open as soon as Bittle walks into the room.Bittle is still wearing his Sunday best—khaki pants, loafers, a blue and white gingham shirt he’d bought a couple weeks ago, and a red bow tie. He has his duffel bag over one shoulder, and it looks dangerously close to slipping off. He has dark rings around his eyes, like he hasn’t slept in a few nights. He doesn’t say a word, just lets his bag slip from his shoulder as he moves into Jack. Jack wraps his arms tightly around him, pulling him close. Bittle doesn’t nestle against Jack’s chest, doesn’t wrap his arms around Jack’s torso. He’s stiff, and he feels brittle.Jack buries his face in Bittle’s hair, kisses him there. Kisses him again on his forehead, pulls him even closer. At this, Bittle lets out a small, unsteady sigh—like he can’t breathe, like he’s about to break.“Oh Bits,” Jack says.And that’s all it takes, apparently, because Bittle starts to cry.That night finds them getting on the last plane to Providence. They have a layover in Baltimore, but it’s mercifully short, and the airport is so deserted that there’s not enough people around to notice Bittle’s red eyes.They don’t get home until late. By then they’re both too tired to go into anything, They shower together so they smell less like recirculated air, and then they go to bed. Jack doesn’t take a hand off Bitty the entire time—Bits probably doesn’t actually need help standing up, but for the first time in the almost five years they’ve known each other, Jack finds Bittle lost for words.As soon as they’re in bed, Bittle attaches himself to Jack like a barnacle, and eventually falls asleep while Jack traces soothing circles on his back.Jack has always known that Bittle is smaller than him. Hell, he’s chirped him enough about it. When the people look at the two of them, without really knowing either of them, they probably assume that the 6’1”, professional hockey player Jack is the stronger of the two. And maybe he is, in some ways. He can do fifty pushups with Bittle on his back, get hit in the face with a puck and pick himself up, and he can co-captain a hockey team to a Stanley Cup victory.But Bittle’s the one who quit football when he was seven and took up figure skating in the South. Bittle is the one who’s shouldered the weight of expectations and assumptions from his parents without having to take medication, without ever overdosing. Bittle’s the one who played college hockey and was never afraid to be exactly who he was. Bittle’s the one who was locked in a closet overnight by his middle school football team, and who somehow doesn’t hate them. Bittle’s the one who waltzed onto the Samwell Men’s Hockey team and made the Haus a home and made the team a family. Bittle’s the one who worked and worked to get through his checking block. Bittle’s the one who Jack let down, who because of Jack’s carelessness got a concussion, but who still voted for Jack to be captain.Bittle’s the one who came out to his parents, rather than use the safety of white lies and distance to stay hidden. Bittle is the one who risked so much just so that he could live with Jack and not have to lie about it.Of the two of them, Bittle’s the stronger one, really.The morning comes sooner than Jack would like. He didn’t get much sleep, but it looks like he got more than Bittle, whose eyes are wide open. There are still dark circles under his eyes, but they look slightly less red.“Good morning,” Jack says, wrapping his free arm around Bitty.“You never asked me what happened,” Bitty says, but he moves in closer to Jack.“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready,” Jack says.“I think I’m ready, now.”“Okay.”And so Jack gets the whole story, from the moment Bittle walked in the door to the moment he left. It started off easy enough, but the mood changed when Coach asked him why Bittle wasn’t spending that weekend moving in.“I gave kind of an evasive answer,” Bittle admits. “I should have just come out and said it then, but I wasn’t ready.”Jack nods and waits for Bitty to go on.“Well, nothing much happened the rest of Saturday, but everything felt off. Mama and I made a cobbler but we both kept dropping things,” Bitty says. Jack can hear the tears threatening to come back.“So after we got home from church on Sunday, I asked if we all could sit down, ‘cause I had something to tell them. And so I… I told them I was going to tell them why I wasn’t moving to Boston.”“I said ‘I moved in with Jack because we’ve been together for almost two years.’ And then Mama was confused by what I meant by ‘together’ and I told her we’d been dating and that we love each other.”“And what did she say?”“She didn’t say anything at first. Coach actually told me I was probably just confused. That really close bonds form between teammates all the time, and since I hadn’t really done team sports until college, I just didn’t know.”“That’s bullshit, Bits.”“I know, I know. And I told him that I knew I was in love with you, and that it was different than the bond I have with, say, Ransom or Holster or Shitty. And then he asked me if I was sure you felt that way, and that I wasn’t just imagining something I wanted to happen. So I told them about uh, about how we got together at your graduation.”“I guess I was hoping that Mama would think it was cute, or that it would prove to Coach… I don’t know. But Coach didn’t say anything for a bit after that. And then my mama said ‘So, does this mean that you’re, that you’re-‘ like she couldn’t get the words out of her mouth,” Bitty says, his voice warbling now. He takes a deep breath, and kneads his fingers into Bitty’s back in a way he hopes is comforting.“So I told her. I said it. I told them I was gay and that I’d known I was gay since middle school.”“I am so proud of you, Bits.”“Well, my mother isn’t. She was crying. And Coach… he wasn’t saying anything.”Bitty takes another deep breath.“Do you want to take a break? We can if you want.”“No. No I need to finish this. I’ll feel better once I get it all out,” Bittle says, but he doesn’t sound convinced.“So they didn’t say anything for a long time. And I finally beg them to say something, and my mom. Oh god. She said, she said ‘Well, Dickie. It’s one thing when you see other people… When other people are that way. But your own child, your only baby, it’s different.’”“Oh Bits,” Jack says. And he knows his heart isn’t hurting nearly as much as Bittle’s must be, but hearing what Suzanne has told her only son, Bits, just feels like an absolute punch to the gut.“I tried to tell them that I hoped it wouldn’t change anything. I’m still me, I still love them, but they just didn’t say anything. My mama was crying, but I was the one who was making her cry, so I couldn’t do anything about it, and then Coach just… he just left.”“He left? Like, left the room or left the house or?”“He left the house. He drove off in his pickup truck and I still haven’t heard from him.”“What about your mom?”“She didn’t say anything until I left. After it… after it was clear Coach was gonna be gone for awhile I just went upstairs and got my bag. And she went into her bedroom. And I knocked on her door and she didn’t answer the first few times, until I told her that I guess I was going to go.”“She finally opened the door, but she wouldn’t come out of her room. And she said that I shouldn’t tell my moomaw because she didn’t think her heart could take it and she wished me a safe flight and then—“And now the tears are coming again. Bittle’s shaking all over with them, burying his face into Jack’s t-shirt and sobbing. Jack just pulls Bitty closer, and hopes he doesn’t notice the tears running down Jack’s own cheeks. Jack wants to be strong for Bittle, but he’s quickly realizing the only thing that can really break him now is seeing Bittle like this. Bittle hurt and sobbing and almost broken.After what seems like forever, but is really probably only a few minutes, Bittle takes a few shaking, slow breaths, and moves away from Jack just enough to be able to look up at him.“I am so sorry, Bits,” Jack says. It’s totally inadequate and not nearly as much as he wants to say, but thankfully, Bittle usually understands.“It had to happen eventually,” Bittle says, “I just… I knew they wouldn’t be rushing out to buy rainbow flags or anything, but I thought—I hoped that I’d at least leave with them talking to me?”“I know, Bits. And they’ll come around. It may take time, and it doesn’t make it hurt any less now, but they’ll get there.”“That’s not all you want to say,” Bittle sniffs.“…. It isn’t. But what I want to say isn’t going to be helpful, or make you feel any better.”“Well, I’m not going to be better for a bit. Please just… Just tell me.”Jack takes a breath, looks at Bitty, decides he’s serious, and goes for it.“I’m so sad, Bits. I’m sad and I’m angry because you are their son, and you went to so much trouble to try and make all of this as comfortable and easy for them as possible. And you are so, so much. You’re everything, and they’re going to let this one part of you dominate everything else.”“Are you saying I’m better off without them?”“No! No that’s not… They’ll come around, and I want them to come around. But when they do, they should be the ones asking for your forgiveness, not the other way around.”Jack hopes that makes sense. Because he does want the Bittles to be part of Bits’ life, of their life. But he doesn’t want them if they’re going to make Bittle feel guilty about who he is.“Thanks, honey,” Bittle says, a little steadier now. “You were right, it doesn’t help right now. But it will.”Jack plants a kiss on the top of Bittle’s head, and pulls him closer....Bittle insists on going into work the next day, despite his emotional distress. Sure, it’s less obvious now, but he still looks tired and worn in a way Jack hasn’t seen, well, ever.But Jack goes to practice. Pre season will start in just over two weeks, so daily practices have started up again. Marty’s just back from Costa Rica with an awkward tan line, which Thirdy chirps him mercilessly for. There are also a few rookies the Falcs picked up in the draft: Wilson Conners, a D-Man who is almost as hulking as Tater, and Vladimir Alaininov, who almost everyone has already started to call “Dracky.”At the end of the practice, Marty informs Jack that he and Bittle are coming to Bennie’s fourth birthday next weekend, and begs Jack to ask Bittle to bring something edible.“Bennie wants a ‘Paw Patrol’ cake, which means we’re getting some awful sheet cake from the grocery store,” Marty says, “I can’t ask anyone over ten to willingly eat that.”Jack says that work has been a little crazy for Bittle lately, so he may not have the time. Marty, who’s face clearly shows he knows something else is up, doesn’t push.Home before Bitty again, Jack starts dicing vegetables for the healthy cassoulet he and Bitty both like so much. He’s just about got everything prepped when his mom calls.“Bonjour, Maman,” Jack says, holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear.“Is everything okay?” Alicia immediately begins, “You texted to say you were going down to Georgia for Labor Day to talk to the Bittles, but—““I’m sorry, Mom. It… It didn’t go like we had hoped.”“I was afraid that’s what happened when I didn’t hear from you. Why? What happened?”“We left Sunday night, and we haven’t heard from the Bittles since.”“Oh, Jack. Oh poor Eric. That poor boy. How is he doing?”“He’s… been better. Maman, Sunday and yesterday he… How could they do that?”“I don’t know, Jack. I just don’t know.”Jack and his mom are both silent for a moment.“He knows we love him, right? That he can come to us if he needs anything?” she finally says.“Yeah, I’ve been telling him that since I told you and Dad about us.”“But that still doesn’t really help, does it? He has so many people in his corner, but not the two people who should always be there.”“Exactly. And I think they’ll come around, or, at least, Suzanne will. It’s just going to take time.”“You’re right. Is Eric home right now?”“No, but he will be in an hour or so.”“I’ll call tomorrow night with a baking question or something,”"That’s a good idea, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”“Alright. Let us know if you need anything, okay?”“Will do. Bye, Mom. Love you.”“Love you too, Jack. Give our love to Eric.”Five minutes later, Jack gets a text from his dad.Papa: Say the word and your Uncle Mario and I will fly down to Georgia intimidate a certain high school football coach.Papa: American football is stupid, anywayMe: Thanks, Papa. But I don’t think that’ll solve this.Papa: I know it won’t, but it’ll make me feel betterJack gets a notification from another message.Lardo: I took Bitty out to lunch and I’m going to take the train home with him.Me: Thank you. I was going to ask if you and Shitty wanted to come down sometime this week.Lardo: I got you. Bits knows we’re in his corner, but it’s worth reminding him.Me: Thanks, Lardo.Lardo and Bitty both walk through the door just as Jack is taking the cassoulet out of the oven.“You’ve trained this boy right, Bits,” Lardo says, smiling as she playfully punches Bitty on the arm.“We’ve come so far from the Sriracha cupboard,” Bitty replies, walking over to Jack in the kitchen. He stands on his toes to give Jack a kiss on the cheek, and Jack automatically leans down to make it easier for him.“You have practice today?” Lardo asks.“Yeah,” Jack says, looking at Bitty as he hangs his messenger bag up. He still looks tired, but he doesn’t look like he’s been crying. “What did you guys get up to today?”“I met Bits out for lunch in Chinatown, and when I heard you were cooking I decided I just had to come down and see this for myself.”“Well, hopefully I won’t disappoint. How was work, Bits?” Jack asks, getting plates out of the cabinet and setting the table.“Oh, it was fine. Just a normal day,” Bitty says, coming up to Jack and sagging against him. Jack wraps him up in a hug, and Lardo moves around them to finish setting the table.“How are you doing?” Jack asks, quietly. It’s not that he cares if Lardo can hear them or not, but there’s no need to be loud when Bits is curled up into him like this.“Still not good, but I’ll get there.”“Take as long as you need, Bits. We’re all here for you.”Jack assumes Bittle and Lardo have already discussed what happened over the long weekend, so they don’t talk about it over dinner. Neither Jack nor Lardo chirp Bittle for constantly checking his phone, even though it breaks Jack’s heart. Suzanne will probably call, eventually, but probably not anytime soon.On Wednesday, Alicia calls Bittle. She asks Bittle for help on a sticky buns recipe she “just can’t get quite right,” and the two talk for awhile. When the call is done, Bittle really smiles for the first time since Saturday.“Your mom is a gem, you know that?” Bittle asks.“Oh I do. What did she want her to help you with?”Bittle launches into the problems Alicia was having, and if he knows that Alicia probably butchered the sticky buns just to get Bittle’s help, he doesn’t let on.On Friday night, Bittle bakes an “adult” cake for Bennie’s birthday party. Along with the cake, they get Bennie some new fake food for his play kitchen. The party actually turns into a lot of fun, not least because the adults and the kids are fighting over who gets more of Bitty’s attention.On Sunday, Bittle stops checking his phone. ...“Jack, that last goal was amazing,” Bittle says, climbing into the passenger side of the car. It’s a crisp, November Friday night, and Jack’s just gotten out of the press pool after a game against the Flyers. He scored two goals that night, and got a clutch assist to Poots. They ended the game 4-2, and everyone on the team is happy.“We were really connecting with the puck tonight. It was kind of electric,” Jack admits, smiling to himself and starting up the car.“Electric, huh?” Bitty says, “Would you say there were sparks?”“Definite sparks.”“It’s nice to see you connecting with the puck so well. And that stick handling…”“I’d like to uh, connect with you,” Jack says, and he nearly laughs at himself at how bad it sounds.Bittle laughs for him, but only a little. “You’re getting better, sweetpea, though I would have gone for something with ‘stick handling.’”“I guess you’re just going to have to show me what you mean,” Jack says, leering at Bittle, because they’re at a red light and why not?By the time they reach the condo, they’ve got their hands all over each other. Bittle practically pushes Jack into the elevator, cornering him and pulling him down by his necktie. They reach their floor, Jack keeping a hand on Bittle’s ass as they walk down the hall, as Bittle fumbles with the keys, and then they’re inside and Jack practically slams Bittle against the door, and—And then Bittle’s cell phone rings.“Who the hell is callin’ me at this time of night?” Bittle says, pulling his phone out of his jeans pocket. He looks like he going to mute it, but then he takes a look at the screen.“It’s… It’s my mom,” he says.Jack and Bittle stare at each other in silence as the phone rings. Slowly, Bittle pulls the phone up to his ear, and accepts the call.“…Hello?” he says, tentative and shaky.Jack can’t quite make out what’s being said at the other end of the line, either because he can’t focus, or because Suzanne is talking very, very quietly. Maybe both. He backs away from Bittle, but doesn’t stop touching him. Guides him over to the couch, pulls him down when Jack sits. Bittle nestles himself between Jack’s legs, back to Jack’s chest.“Yes, mama, I’m home. Yeah, I went to Jack’s game, I usually go to weekend home games. Yes, that last goal was spectacular.”Suzanne says something else.“I’ve missed talking to you too, Mama.”“Yeah, I do, too.”“Yeah. Two and a half years, now.”“Well, I think you might be able to understand why I didn’t.”“I want you in my life too, mama. But I’m not going to hide who I am anymore. That isn’t fair to anyone, especially me.”“Thank you.”“I don’t know.”“We’re going to Bob and Alicia’s for Christmas, and we’re hosting Thanksgiving for—““You want to come up here?” Bittle asks, looking up at Jack. Jack mouths “Up to you,” and Bittle starts talking again.“Hang on, let me look and see what our weekends are like,” Bittle says, motioning to Jack. Jack pulls out his own phone, and pulls up the google calendar he and Bittle share. He scrolls through, and finds a weekend where he only has a home game. He gives the phone to Bittle.“How about the first weekend of December?” Bittle says.“Okay. Sounds good. Let me know what flight you’re on and we’ll pick you up at the airport.“Love you too, Mama,” Bittle says, hanging up.“I could only hear your half of the conversation,” says Jacks, “But it sounds like they’re coming to visit?”“She is. Coach is… Mama says he’s not ready yet.”“Well, it’s something, right?” Jack says, running his hands up and down Bittle’s arms.“Yeah. Yeah it is.” …Jack loves Bittle. Jack loves Bittle more than anyone or anything in the world, including hockey. Jack loves Bittle, which is why he’s picking up Suzanne Bittle at TF Green Airport, by himself, because Bittle is at work.It’s going to be the most awkward car ride ever.Jack pulls into the cell phone lot just as Suzanne’s plane lands, and a few minutes later he drives over to the pickup zone. Suzanne is waiting, and she looks cold and slightly miserable. Jack is able to pull up right in front of her, and he hops out of the car to help her with her bag.“Hi, Suzanne,” he hopes he can still call her Suzanne, “Here, let me take your bag.”“Oh, thank you, Jack,” she says, and Jack takes her small suitcase and puts it in the trunk while Suzanne climbs in the passenger seat of the car.“You can turn up the heat, if you want,” Jack says, climbing back into the car.“Thank you, Jack.”When Jack came to Madison two years ago to visit, Suzanne was bubbly—outgoing, chatty, and welcoming. Jack honestly doesn’t know what to do with this Suzanne. She’s too restrained and quiet, and Jack doesn’t know her well enough to know what she might be thinking.“Bits should be home around six thirty,” Jack says as they merge onto the highway, simply to have something to say. “I usually make dinner on nights I don’t have a game.”“That’s sweet of you. What do you usually make?”“I can’t cook the way Bits can, but we’ve come up with a lot of recipes that fit my diet plan over the years. High on protein and all that.” What the fuck is he even saying?“What will you make tonight?”“I have some chicken that needs to be used. So something with that?”Suzanne just nods, and looks out the window. It’s getting dark, so there’s not much to see.“Do you like Providence?” she finally asks when she realizes she’s not going to be able to see much.“I do. The team is great, and the city is a nice size.”“Winters can’t be much better than Samwell, even if it is further south.”“Haha no. But I grew up in Montreal… Bittle has a harder time with the cold than I do.”“Poor Dickie. I always hoped he’d come back down to Georgia after graduation. Atlanta would have been nice for him, I think.”Jack chooses not to comment on this, because he doesn’t really know what to say. Luckily, they pull up to his and Bittle’s building, so he doesn’t have to say anything.“This is… This is where you live?” Suzanne asks as the garage door opens in front of them.“One of the benefits of the NHL, I guess,” Jack says, driving down another level and pulling into his usual spot. He shuts off the car, and gets Suzanne’s bag from the trunk.“This way,” he says, motioning over to the elevators.“What floor do you live on?” Suzanne asks.“We live on the twelfth floor,” Jack says. “Although, I guess the condo is on the twelfth and thirteenth floors?”Suzanne doesn’t reply.Once they’ve gotten to the twelfth floor, Jack leads the way down the hall to their condo. Key in lock, push door open, walk in. Jack carries Suzanne’s bag up the stairs, and stops in the living room when she does.“This is the cleanest bachelor pad I’ve ever seen! When I first started dating Richard, oh, you would not believe—““It was a little messier when I was living here by myself, but I always cleaned up before Bits came over,” Jack says, “And you should have seen him before my parents came to stay back in May. I practically had to force him to let me help,” Jack replies, smiling to himself.“So your parents… They know? About you and Dickie?”“Yes,” says Jack, “My parents know that I date men and women, so I told them about me and Bits after we’d been dating for a few months.”“Oh.”The two of them stand in silence for a moment.“I’ll just... I’ll just show you your room, eh?” Jack finally says. Suzanne nods, and Jack leads her down the hallway.“Here you go,” he says, rolling her suitcase into the larger guest room. “Your bathroom’s just next door. Let me know if you need anything?”“Thank you, Jack.”Jack backs out of the room, and Suzanne starts to unpack. She doesn’t close the door, which Jack guesses is a good sign? He doesn’t know.He heads back towards the kitchen, and texts Bittle while he’s taking the chicken out of the refrigerator.Me: Your mom and I just got home. She’s unpacking and I’m starting dinner.Bits: How is she?Bits: How are you?Me: I’m fine. I think your mom will be fine once you two talk.Bits: I should be home soon. You making the chicken and mushrooms for dinner?Me: Yeah. See you soon, BitsMe: I love youBits: Love you too, Jack.And now Jack’s stuck. Because in these kinds of situations, he’s so used to texting Bitty. Especially when it comes to translating Southern United States mannerisms. But he can’t. He briefly thinks about texting Shitty, but that probably won’t help.Me: LardoMe: I’m alone with Suzanne and I’m confusedLardo: What did she say? Or do?Me: I’m not sure? She said she thought Atlanta would have been good for BitsMe: And I don’t know how to describe it, but she got weird when she found out my parents knewLardo: Jack, you need to be prepared for some passive aggressive southern bullLardo: If you can take a puck to the chin and skate off the ice, then you can handle thisMe: Thanks, LardsLardo: Anytime.Jack gets to working on dinner. He gets a pot of brown rice going, then rubs the chicken down with olive oil, paprika, and a lot of salt and pepper, then pops it in the oven with some mushrooms and sliced onions. He’s in the middle of deciding on a salad versus green beans when Suzanne appears back in the kitchen.“Anything I can do to help?” she asks as Jack finally decides on green beans.“Thanks, but I think I’ve got it. Do you want some wine or some water or anything?”“Do you have a white?” Suzanne asks after a moment.“I think we have a open bottle,” Jack says, opening up the fridge and finding a half-empty bottle. He pours Suzanne a glass, and gets a glass of water for himself.Jack gets busy blanching the green beans while Suzanne takes a seat at the breakfast bar.“This is a lovely kitchen,” she comments.“Yeah. We get a lot of use out of it,” Jack says.“Do you always make dinner?”“Just on nights where I get home before Bittle. His commute isn’t that bad, but he still gets home late enough that starting dinner would be a hassle.”“But he’s still baking?”“When is he ever not? The team nutritionist kind of hates him, actually. I bring the stuff he makes to work half the time and my teammates make it all disappear in minutes.”“Do they think you make all of it?”“Uh… no. They know Bittle makes it.”“They know about Eric?”“They know about him? Yeah. They also know him, so…”And Bittle’s ears must have been ringing, because at that moment Jack hears the door open downstairs.“That’s him, now,” Jack says. Suzanne turns in her seat towards the steps, then stands up. Jack hears Eric taking off his coat, opening the door to hang it in the closet. The door shuts, and the next moment he hears Bittle walking up the steps, and then Bittle is standing there.Bittle has his poker face on, that carefully blank and unassuming expression Jack got to know well that Fourth of July in Madison over two years ago. He hates Suzanne, just for a moment, because he hates that Bittle feels the need to put that face on in his own damn house.“Dickie…” Suzanne begins.“Hi, Mama,” Bittle replies. Then they both just stand there, both wanting the other to make the first move.If they won’t move, Jack will.“Hey, Bits,” he says, standing over the stove. He can’t leave the green beans just now, but he’s hoping that Bits will come over, kiss him on the cheek, and make some comment about his cooking skills, just like he always does. “How was work today?”It works. Jack hears Bittle walk over to him, and Jack leans down into the kiss, a swift peck on the cheek.“You’re getting better at this,” Bittle says.“Well, I had a really good teacher,” replies Jack, smiling.“We’ll have to work on your pie lattices again soon.”“You haven’t let me near lattice work in over two years.”“Well you’ve made me dinner most weeknights since I moved in, so you’ve nearly worked your way back into my good graces.”“Just nearly? Do I need to buy you another Dutch oven?”“No. But oh, Mama, this boy,” Bittle says, whipping around, “I didn’t tell you before, but he got me a Le Creuset Dutch oven as a graduation present. We’ll have to make beef bourguignon before you leave because it is a revelation.”During this speech, Bittle has whipped around to face Suzanne, chatting like he always does. For a few moments, his shoulders are relaxed, his poker face is gone, and he looks like Bittle.And then he finishes talking. Suzanne doesn’t respond immediately, and Bittle looks like he’s going to deflate.But then she smiles—it’s not a big smile, or the smile Bittle is probably used to seeing, but it is genuine.“What color do y’all have?” she asks. …Jack has to leave early the next morning. His game starts at 1:30 this afternoon, so he has to get to the rink early for warmup. He hopes that Bits and Suzanne will use the time alone together to talk. They’re coming to the game later, so that’s something.In the dressing room, getting ready for practice, Marty comes over and sits by Jack,“What’s up, kiddo?” he asks in Québécois, “You’ve got your ‘I’m mildly concerned, but I won’t let it affect my game’ face on.’”“I have a face like that?”“It is a face I am extremely familiar with. Ask Eric, I’m sure he’ll tell you you’ve always had it. What’s up?”If Marty thinks something’s bothering him, then he’s probably not going to let up until he figures out what it is, one way or another.“Bittle’s mom is visiting,” Jack says. Marty is still looking at him expectantly.“She and Bittle’s dad weren’t exactly supportive when he told them about us.”Marty’s brow furrows. “Not supportive as in ‘We’ve heard the stories about pro athletes’ or ‘We don’t like the fact that our son is dating another man’ not supportive’?”“The second one. They didn’t know, before, that Bittle is gay.”“So that’s why the two of you avoided talking about where you went over Labor Day Weekend?”“Yeah.” Bless Sebastian St. Martin.“So Mrs. Bittle is coming up here because?”“She loves her son. She misses her son.”“And his dad isn’t here.”“No. Suzanne said that Coach… Mr. Bittle needed more time.”“Coach?”“He’s the high school football coach in town,” says Jack.Marty lets out a soft whistle.“Bittle is definitely not one of those football types.”“Yeah. Definitely not.”They sit in silence for a few moments. Jack thanks his lucky stars that Marty never really asks unnecessary questions—he never pries.“Are they coming to the game today? Bittle and his mom?”“They said they would. I left earlier than usual to give them some time alone to talk.”“I am going to text Gabby,” Marty begins, “Not that she wouldn’t sit with Eric anyway, but she’ll sit with him and make sure he enjoys the game, okay? And cut through any bullshit his mom may give. Gabby’s good at that.”“She is,” Jack acknowledges, “And Suzanne went through a phase where she watched all of the Falconers Face-Offs.”“Oh, God. Does she have a crush on Tater?”“No. She kind of has a crush on you… And Thirdy.”“Are you asking me and Thirdy to use our not inconsiderable charms to get a woman fifteen years older than us to be happy for her does-not-deserve-this-bullshit son?”“You don’t have to do too much, just—““Kiddo, you are basically asking us to tell Eric’s mom how great he is. Our time has finally come.” …After Marty ropes in Thirdy on the plan (and half the team. And half of the team’s wives and girlfriends), Jack texts Bittle, because he hasn’t heard from him since he left earlier this morning.Me: How’re things going? You okay?It’s a few minutes before Bittle replies.Bittle: Well things aren’t awful. We’ve talked a lot. And we’re headed out to your game soon!Me: If you guys aren’t finished you don’t have to come.Bittle: I think we’ll both need a break.Me: Alright, I’ll look for you in your usual spot. Love youBittle: Love you too, Jack <3When Jack and the rest of the team finally skate out onto the ice for the game, Jack’s eyes immediately dart up to where Bittle usually sits. He’s there, decked out in Falconer’s gear and sitting in between Gabby and Suzanne. On Suzanne’s other side is Carrie, and next to her is Snowy’s girlfriend, Karen. They wave to their respective partners as they skate out onto the ice.They’re playing the Redwings today, and the Falconers defeat them easily, 5-0. They shower, change, do the usual press rigmarole, and are finally released.“Okay, so here’s how we’re going to do this,” Thirdy says, coming up to Jack as he gathers his things. “Gabby and Carrie are standing with Suzanne and Eric right now. The three of us are going to come out together, because we’re the captains, and because we’re all obviously the best looking.”“Snowy is our warm-up act. He’s going to go out first, say hi to Eric, get introduced to his mother, because our Eric Bittle is a Southern gentleman and always polite. And then when he and Karen leave, the three of us will come out, and we’ll get the undeserving to see just how much we all like Eric and accept you and him and all that jazz.”“Are you done yet?” Marty asks from the other side of the dressing room, “I’d like to get home before my babysitter has to order a pizza.”“Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”So the three of them emerge from the locker rooms, and standing by the players’ entrance are Bittle, Suzanne, Gabby, and Carrie.“Hi, mon cher!” Gabby calls, drawing Suzanne’s attention to Marty.“Hey, Gabs,” Marty leaning down to meet her kiss. “Hi Eric, Carrie, and, sorry, I don’t think we’ve been introduced?” he says, looking at Suzanne, who starts blushing faintly.“Oh, Marty, this is my mama, Suzanne Bittle,” Bittle says, and Jack can tell that he’s clearly trying not to laugh.“Nice to finally meet another Bittle,” Marty says, extending his hand. Suzanne reaches her own hand out and shakes his.“It’s nice to meet you, to,” Suzanne says, clearly star struck.“And I’m Thirdy, nice to meet you,” Thirdy says, taking Suzanne’s hand when Marty is done. “Are you the source of that pecan pie Eric makes? I keep trying to get him to give me the recipe but every time he tells me it’s a family secret.”“Oh! Well, I can say that I gave him the original recipe, but he’s improved on it since then.”“Can you give me the recipe?”Suzanne laughs. “Family secret, remember?”“So can you give Jack the recipe, and then he can give it to me? I mean, we’re on the same hockey team, so we’re basically family.”“It’s blood or marriage, I’m afraid,” Suzanne replies.“Dang it. Jack, get on that. In the meantime, Eric, you’re making the pecan for me and Carrie’s holiday party, right?”“Of course!” Bittle says, a short laugh escaping him, “And I’ll bake some cookies, too.”“Excellent.”Their group breaks up after that. As soon as Jack, Bittle, and Suzanne are in the car, though, Suzanne starts gushing.“Marty and Thirdy are so tall,” she says from the backseat. “In the faceoff videos they look shorter because of how often they’re with Mashokov, but they’re tall.”“They are very tall, mama,” Bittle says, smiling as he drives out of the parking lot.“And Thirdy likes our pecan pie recipe! What else have you made the team, Dickie?”“Well, I’ve been baking for them for over two years now, so almost everything.”“Marty says Bittle’s blueberry cobbler causes our next opponents to get injured just before the games. It happened with Ottawa and Carolina last year,” adds Jack.“And I have steadfastly refused to make it since Carolina. I don’t want to mess with that kind of power,” Bitty says.The ice seems to have been broken, and the three chat amicably about baked goods all the way home. For dinner, Bittle and Suzanne use the Dutch oven to make beef bourguignon, and while that’s cooking they “whip up” some lemon bars from Moomaw’s old recipe.They all go to bed early that night, because they’re all tired, physically and emotionally. Locking their bedroom door behind them, Jack and Bitty shower together, and then fall into bed.“So, how did it go this morning?” Jack asks. If Bittle had cried earlier, there’s no sign of it now.“Well, I got to talk about when I first knew I was gay, and I guess that explained a lot,” Bittle says quietly. “She kept asking me if I was sure, which wasn’t helpful or fun, but at least she’s talking to me?’“Mm-hmm,” Jack says.“She feels kind of guilty. For a lot of things. She still kind of thinks it’s something she or Coach did which… no, it wasn’t. It’s just who I am. And it’s going to take her awhile for her to really accept it, but she’ll get there, probably.“And she also feels guilty for me not feeling like I could tell her sooner.”“Well, considering how—““I know, I know. But there’s that. And then I spent another fifteen minutes assuring her that grandchildren are still a strong possibility, even if they are adopted.”“Did she say anything about your dad?”“Yes. Basically the same thing she said a couple of weeks ago. He’ll come around, he just needs more time.”“Just so you know, you have about thirty hockey players ready to fly down to Georgia to intimidate his football team,” Jack adds, probably a little insensitively.“Speaking of hockey players, what was that at the game today?” Bittle asks, smiling. “Gabby and Carrie were extra chatty today, and even Karen talked quite a bit. And then that whole bit after the game… Sweetheart, was that choreographed?” Bittle says, really smiling now.“Apparently I had some sort of face that showed something was bothering me before the game. I told Marty your mom was here to visit, and he and Thirdy organized the rest,” Jack admits, smiling back at Bittle. “I may have mentioned your mom’s crushes on Marty and Thirdy.”“Jack Zimmerman, you did not!” cries Bitty, playfully swatting him with a pillow. Jack grabs the pillow, holds it out of Bittle’s reach, and goes in to kiss him when he pouts.“To be fair,” he says when he finally pulls away, “Thirdy was serious about getting that pie recipe. He’s been bugging me about it for ages.”“Hmph,” Bittle says, turning on his side and pushing his back into Jack’s stomach. Jack drapes an arm over him, and nuzzles his face into the back of Bittle’s neck. “Well, you heard what my mama said. Blood or marriage.”“Good thing I’m working on at least one of those ins, right?”“Yeah,” Bittle says, his voice soft with affection and coming sleep. “Just as soon as you master lattice work, honey.”“I’ll get to practicing, then,” Jack says, placing a kiss behind Bitty’s ear, and finally closing his own eyes to sleep.They still have a lot of work ahead of them—there’s Coach Bittle to win over, and then the rest of the world, really. But Bittle is worth it, he’s worth all of this and so much more. And right now, between the two of them, Jack thinks they can conquer anything. Epilogue—Three Years Later “Everything’s all set, we just need you two to sign where we’ve marked,” Lauren says, handing Jack and Bittle the forms.“I hope this wasn’t too much trouble for y’all,” says Bittle, taking the pen Lauren hands him and signing his curvy, graceful signature on the places Lauren has marked.“No trouble at all, Mr. Bittle. It’s always a little complicated handling the dual-citizen codes, but nothing we here at Arnison & Harris can’t handle.”“Was that really the most complicated part?” Bittle says, handing the forms off to Jack, who takes the pen and starts affixing his well-known signature to where Lauren has marked.“Oh yes. Updating your properties so that you’re listed as co-owners and filing a married filing jointly return isn’t all that complicated. We do it all the time.”“Here you go,” Jack says, sliding the tax forms back across the desk to Lauren. She flips through, and makes sure they’ve initialed and signed in all the right places.“Everything’s all set, Mr. Bittle and Mr. Zimmermann. Or are you going by Zimmermann-Bittle now?”“Legally, yes, but it’s kind of a mouthful. Our future children are going to hate us,” Bittle says, standing up and pulling on his coat. It’s March in Providence, and the weather’s still a bit chilly.“We’re just sticking with our own names for now,” Jack says.They leave the accounting firm’s office, and head towards Bitty’s car—a new Subaru he bought last year. They climb in, and Bitty cranks the heater up as soon as he starts the ignition.“Wait, if I decide to change my name to Bittle, will your mom let me give Thirdy that pie recipe?”“No. Mr. Zimmermann doesn’t sound as good as Mr. Bittle. What would I call you when you refuse to take a nap, or chirp me within an inch of my life?”“This is true,” Jack acknowledges, “Your comebacks would be much weaker.”“Mr. Zimmermann,” Bittle says, rolling his eyes, but he leans across the center console and pulls Jack into a kiss anyway.And they probably shouldn’t make out in the front seat of the car. They’re not newlyweds anymore. They’ve been married eight months. That’s closer to a year than not.But they’ve been married for eight months. They’ve been out for almost two years. They’ve been together for over five. They just filed joint taxes together.Hell yes they can make out in the front seat of their car.
10322171	Silver Eyes	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Elwyn, Meilyr, Silvijin, Kimora, Philip", "Fandom": "Original Work", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by K_E_Madsen", "chapters": "1/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-16T00:00:00", "words": "4,820", "Additional Tags": "Fantasy, young adult fiction, this originally started out as a nano novel, A tiny bit of romance", "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 }	Chapter 1. A Foundling Child and Young Elwyn The sun rose slowly into the sky, filling the small town with golden light, the sounds of a town awakening rising into the air. Shops began to put out their wares, horses pulling wagons, women heading to the well to draw water for laundry. A soft breeze blew through the town, rustling leaves as they were turning to the shades of fall. A door opened on a small two story house painted white. A slender woman with dark curly brown hair stepped out. She heard the cry of a child and, upon looking down, saw a large basket at her doorstep. Kneeling down, the woman found a note on top of the mass of blankets. ’Take good care of Elwyn’ the note read in an elegant script.Confusion flashed in her eyes. She pushed aside the blankets to reveal a baby. The baby opened pale blue eyes and grinned a gummy smile, reaching a tiny hand out to the woman. Standing, the woman picked up the basket and headed back inside the house."Kimora, what is that?" a tall man asked; his arms were those of a blacksmith, and his short hair was a pale blonde. "Silvijn, I think the gods are finally smiling upon us," she replied. "This is Elwyn."The man stood over the basket, seeing the baby amidst the blankets. "Kimora - what a beautiful child," he replied reverently, also receiving a gummy smile. "How do you know the baby’s name is Elwyn?"Kimora handed him the note and picked up the baby. "Elwyn, you are the child we have been praying for," she whispered, her dark green eyes looking down at the baby in her arms.Silvijn smiled at the sight of his wife looking so lovingly at the child. "I have to get to the forge. Let me know if you need any help with Elwyn," he said kissing her cheek."Of course," she said.Silvijn turned and left, shutting the door behind him."Now my little one - you need a bed," Kimora murmured, placing the baby back inside the basket.Elwyn yawned, stretching tiny hands up into the air, and with a flutter of eyelids, Elwyn fell fast asleep. Carrying the basket close to her chest, Kimora headed into their spare bedroom where a sheet covered a large object. Setting the basket down she pulled the sheet off showing a crib her father had carved for her before his death. Resting a hand on her stomach she remembered the sadness surrounding the crib. ’I thought about selling it, but I’m glad I didn’t pressure Silvijn,’ she thought.Elwyn stayed asleep while Kimora pulled the crib into their bedroom. After placing some blankets inside to pad the wood, Kimora took Elwyn out of the basket and placed the sleeping baby inside.Humming a soft tune, Kimora went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for herself and lunch for Silvijn. The bread dough had finished rising, so she pulled it from the bowl and began kneading it. Once she was done, Kimora went to place it back in the bowl for a second rise, when she heard a loud wail coming from Elwyn. ‘What am I going to do for milk for her?’ Kimora thought, covering the dough with a towel. ‘I do not make any of my own.’She headed into the bedroom, pulling a tiny Elwyn out of her crib. Tears streamed out of her pale blue eyes, her mouth open in a loud wail. Rocking her gently Kimora tried to figure out what was wrong, but Elwyn wouldn’t stop crying. “Are you hungry Elwyn?” Kimora asked knowing the baby couldn’t answer.Panic flooded her chest; what did she know about taking care of a child? Her nerves began to fray quickly as time passed. Pacing back and forth, Kimora went through everything she could think of. She checked Elwyn’s diaper; it was dry. She rocked Elwyn, nothing. What was she going to do? ‘I don’t know what to do,’ Kimora thought tears pricking her eyes. There were other women in the town, maybe one of them would be willing to help her.With Elwyn still crying loudly and waving her tiny fists around, Kimora left the house. She headed towards the well, knowing there would be someone that would help her or at least answer her questions. People stared at her as hurried by, but Kimora ignored them. She wandering around the well panic tight in her chest while Elwyn continued to cry. "Kimora by the gods, a child?" her friend Alani asked seeing Kimora looking so distressed."A foundling child, she was left on our doorstep," Kimora replied, panic making her voice shake. "She’s hungry and I don’t know what to do.”Alani (who had two children of her own) smiled warmly and placed a hand on Kimora’s shoulder. "Come to my house, we’ll get the matter of the little one’s hunger taken care of,” she said.Kimora followed Alani home, which was a short distance down the main road from the well, with Elwyn still crying with all her might. Alani opened the door to the house and motioned for Kimora to enter. “The little one can wait a moment longer, I want to know where you found her,” Alani said, worry in her voice.Elwyn continued to scream, but Kimora did as her friend told her. “I went to check the flowers this morning, but when I opened the door Elwyn was in a basket at my doorstep,” Kimora said.“You don’t think it’s unusual?” Alani asked, glancing at Elwyn who still screamed in Kimora’s arms.“No, it’s not public knowledge that I can’t conceive, but a few people in town know,” Kimora said brushing her fingers over Elwyn’s forehead. “I believe it’s a sign from the gods.”Alani sighed heavily worry still reflecting in her eyes. “You won’t give her up will you.”“No, I won’t ignore a sign from the gods,” Kimora said standing up straight and frowning at her friend. “She’s my daughter.”“Well then, let’s get this little one fed,” Alani sighed. “Wait here.”Alani went to another room and came out with a basket holding two glass bottles. “I had these made from the time I was sick when I was nursing my youngest, you can have them,” Alani said. “Time to meet your nursemaid.”Kimora raised an eyebrow in confusion, but Alani was already out the door. She followed her outside and to a small barn nestled behind the house. There was a strong wooden fence around the small building. Most of the goats were wandering around chewing on the thinly growing grass, and two were standing on a stump trying to push one another off. “Now watch me, I’ll show you how to milk a goat,” Alani said grinning.Kimora simply stared, the panic returning. “This is my nursemaid?” she questioned.“Yes, now watch carefully,” Alani said opening the gate.Two of the goats had fat udders and kids playing around them. Alani went and fetched a metal bucket and another wooden bucket filled with hay and oats. “This distracts her while I milk her, otherwise she’ll just run around,” Alani said.Kimora watched carefully as Alani milked the goat, chewing on her lower lip. ‘I still doubt I can do this myself,’ she thought.“There see, not so hard,” Alani said. “Now you try.”Alani took Elwyn who was still screaming her tiny head off and nudged Kimora over with her shoulder. It was tricky at first, but once Kimora got the hang of it, she finished milking the goat. “Grab the bucket before she kicks it over,” Alani instructed while Elwyn smacked at her face. “Strong one aren’t you?”‘She’s not fazed by anything,’ Kimora thought and picked up the bucket.Alani turned and headed back into the house with Kimora trailing behind her the bucket of milk in one hand.Once they were back in the house, Alani explained how to pour the milk into the bottles and seal the stomach lining lid on, then handed Elwyn back to Kimora. “She’ll latch on right away,” Alani said. "Make sure you keep her head up and not let any air bubbles go through."Kimora’s hands shook as she held the bottle up to the crying child’s lips. Elwyn stopped mid-cry and latched on hungrily, suckling the milk out of the bottle. Her panic drained away as she watched the baby drink. “See it’s not so hard. What are you going to tell the other villagers? Elwyn looks to be at least six months old, hard to say you birthed her,” Alani asked.“I don’t know,” Kimora whispered. “The old stories we heard as children aren’t really believed are they?”“About foundling children being fairies or imps? Nonsense,” Alani said with a smile. “Oakbridge hasn’t even had a centaur visit in almost a hundred years, most of the town folk barely believe they exist.”“Do you think they do?” Kimora asked.“Of course, Mama saw one when she was a child,” Alani said.Elwyn was almost finished with the bottle, her eyes beginning to droop. “Make sure to burp her now that she’s done,” Alani instructed.Kimora carefully set down the bottle and burped Elwyn. She was surprised when wetness began to seep into her shoulder. “Wear a rag when you burp her,” Alani said, her lips twitching.“Do you really think I can take care of her?” Kimora asked settling Elwyn into her arms.“Every mother asks that question; you’ll do fine,” Alani said. “I’m giving you the goat you milked and her kid so you don’t have to come over every time Elwyn is hungry, which will be often.”“You-you can’t just give me two goats!” Kimora protested. “Both of them are worth at least twenty silver coins.”“I’m your friend, call this a baby gift,” Alani said. “I insist and…”Alani was cut off by the door being wrenched open and a little girl no more than four race in her eyes watery with tears. “Mama, Mama, Astrea took my doll!” she yelled."Lilia calm down you’ll wake up the baby!" Alani admonished."What baby Mama?" Lilia asked.“This is Elwyn," Kimora replied with a smile, holding Elwyn a little lower so Lilia could see her.Another girl older than Lilia hurried into the house holding a faded cloth doll in one hand. "I didn’t take her doll Mama, Lilia gave her to me," the girl protested."Did not Astrea," Lilia retorted a frown wrinkling her button of a nose. "You took her.""Astrea did she really give you her doll?” Alani asked giving the older girl a look, one that Kimora remembered her Mama giving her.“No Mama,” Astrea sighed and looked at her bare feet.“Then give it back to your sister,” Alani said.Astrea tossed the doll back to Lilia, who grabbed onto her and hugged her tight. “Thank you Mama,” Lilia cried.“Both of you upstairs, I want those grubby faces clean and your rooms neatened before lunch,” Astrea said.“Yes Mama,” the two girls chorused and hurried up the small staircase near the back wall of the house.Alani sighed and made a face. “Back to our conversation, I’ll have Lilia bring over the goats later,” she said.“No, Silvijn can come fetch them when he’s done with his work. I can’t thank you enough,” Kimora said. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without your guidance.”“What are friends for? If you have any questions you can come to me,” Alani said.“Thank you,” Kimora said. “I should get back to the house; I still have bread to finish baking and later I’ll get to practice milking a goat.”“Take care,” Alani said. “Don’t forget these.”She handed Kimora the basket with the bottles and Kimora headed back to the house holding the basket in the crook of her elbow.Silvijn was waiting for them, pacing back and forth a little in the kitchen. “There you are Kimora - I was worried. How is Elwyn?" he asked."Fine, she was hungry, but I didn’t know what to do. I went to the well to see if anyone could help me,” Kimora replied going to set Elwyn in her crib. “Alani was kind enough to help me. She’s giving us goats to provide milk for Elwyn.”Silvjin’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “Did you offer her money to pay for them?” he asked.“I tried, but she refused. She said to call it a baby gift,” Kimora said.“Of course she refused. I’ll make sure to help with the harvest this fall and go over any metal on their property in return,” Silvijn said."Would you mind going and fetching the goats later?" Kimora asked. "I told Alani that you would.""Of course my dear, I was just coming to check on you two. Irid brought in one of his draft horses to be re-shod and I have get back so I can finish,” Silvijn replied. “I found my lunch you made for me. Thank you, dearest.”Kimora smiled and kissed her husband goodbye. She checked on Elwyn, watching the baby sleep, a soft smile on her lips.+++ Eleven years later… "Mama, Mama!" Elwyn’s childish voice called from outside.Kimora left the bread she was kneading and headed out of the house. "What is it Elwyn?" she asked seeing her daughter run up to her.The girl was dressed in a boy’s breeches, shirt, and vest instead of the gown her Mama wore. In one hand was a blacksmith’s hammer and a light coating of coal dust was sprinkled on her clothes. Her Papa allowed the child to run around in boy’s clothes, even if her Mama frowned upon it. Elwyn was also learning swordplay, much to her Mama’s dislike."Flint tried to kiss me, he has gross boy cooties," Elwyn cried wrapping her short arms around her Mama’s waist."Elwyn you are a very pretty girl, lots of boys will start liking you," Kimora replied."But I’m only eleven Mama, I’d rather play with boys then kiss them," she replied wrinkling her button nose."Do you want to help me bake bread?" she asked with a warm smile.Elwyn nodded letting go of her Mama’s waist. "Go wash your hands first. I don’t want coal dust on the dough. I need help kneading the first batch.”"Okay Mama," Elwyn replied skipping after her Mama into the house.After Elwyn washed her hands and face, Kimora had her daughter stand on a stool as she kneaded her own small loaf of bread. “You’re doing very well,” Kimora complimented.Elwyn’s cheeks were pink as she worked, pushing her small hands into the dough. “What do I do when I’m done Mama?” Elwyn asked.“Form it into a loaf, then we have to let it rise again. Once it’s risen, then we can brush the top with butter and put it in the oven,” Kimora said.“Goodie!” Elwyn said grabbing her dough.Placing it next to her Mama’s perfectly formed loaves of bread, she formed it until it looked like her Mama’s. “Do you want to make another one?” Kimora asked.Elwyn nodded clambering back on her stool. Kimora set another ball of dough in front of her daughter. “You need more flour,” Kimora said.“I’ll get it!” Elwyn said excited.The young girl raced towards the cupboard where the flour was kept and picked up the large bag of flour. “Careful Elwyn!” Kimora called seeing her daughter struggle.“I-I have it,” Elwyn protested as she tried to climb on her stool.Kimora tried to catch her, but both of them landed on the floor, flour spilling everywhere. “Mama, I’m so sorry!” Elwyn cried, tears already rolling down her flour-covered cheeks.Kimora pulled her daughter into her arms and rocked her gently. “It’s alright, let’s get both of us cleaned up first,” Kimora said.As Kimora went to the sink to wet a washcloth, the front door opened. "Kimora, Elwyn I’m home," Silvijn called out as he entered the house."Papa!" Elwyn cried running to give her Papa a hug."Well look at you my little flour girl," he said."I accidentally dropped the bag of flour.”"We were making bread," Kimora said"I see you have some flour on yourself, dearest," Silvijn said walking over to his wife and kissing her cheek."Ew! Papa kisses are gross," Elwyn said. "Papa come see the bread I’m making."Silvijn went over to where she was kneading her own small loaf. "I already made one, and Mama said I could make another," she replied puffing out her small chest with pride."I bet they’ll be delicious once they’re baked," he replied. "When they’re done, we should make some sandwiches out of them.”"Yay!" Elwyn replied with a grin on her young face."You two go wash up; I need to start preparing dinner. You can change clothes after dinner," Kimora said. "After you clean up, Elwyn, would you go feed the goats please.”"Yes Mama," Elwyn replied skipping over to the sink to wash her face and arms.Once she was finished, Elwyn went out the door to the backyard where the goats lived. They had a sturdy wooden fenced in area with a small lean at the back. She dipped a small wooden bucket into the grain bin by their fence and opened the gate. All the goats flocked around Elwyn who giggled and grabbed handfuls of grain. They lipped it out of her outstretched hands, one of the kids butting her in the hip. “Be patient,” she ordered.Wiping her hands off, Elwyn poured the bucket of grain into their feed trough and checked their water. She wasn’t old enough to fork hay into their pen yet, so Elwyn went and shut the gate securing the latch and headed back into the house."Mama I’m done," she said."Thank you Elwyn - dinner will be ready soon. Set the table please after you wash your hands,” Kimora said.Her Mama was always making Elwyn wash her hands, but it would do no good to grumble, so Elwyn did as she was told, then went to set the table. She pulled out the bowls first, then the spoons, and finally the napkins. She set them neatly in front of each chair. "Could you please go fetch your Papa so we can eat? He’s upstairs.”Elwyn ran up the stairs to her parents’ room. "Papa dinner’s ready," she called knocking on the door.Her Papa’s head peeked out. "I’ll be down in a minute sweet pea," he replied."Okay Papa," Elwyn replied skipping back downstairs. "He said he’d be down in a minute Mama.""Good, go get seated at the table." Kimora said holding a steaming bowl of stew.Silvijn came downstairs and sat at the table. "Smells good Kimora," he said.“The bread is almost done rising, I’ll put it in the oven after dinner,” Kimora replied. “If you want we can sell the loaves you made in the market tomorrow.”"Can I come with you tomorrow Mama?" Elwyn asked."Of course as long as you promise to behave and help me," Kimora said."Thank you Mama," she said as her Mama gave her some stew and a piece of bread.The small but happy family ate their supper in peace.+++The next day was bright and sunny, the sky cloudless. The market was busy and crowded. Many people walked around the different sized stalls buying wares. Kimora headed towards her small stall, Elwyn following behind dressed this time in a dark brown gown."Careful with that basket Elwyn, we can’t sell bruised apples," Kimora warned, watching her daughter carry a basket of apples."Yes Mama," Elwyn replied slowing her pace down the apples settling in their place."Morning Kimora, Elwyn," a tall dark haired woman said with a smile on her face."Good morning Alani," Kimora replied with a smile."Market day for you two?" Alani said."I made bread to sell, Madame Alani," Elwyn piped up with a smile.“Wonderful! I will have to buy some if you made it Elwyn," she replied.Elwyn beamed as the three of them walked to the stall. She helped her Mama set up and stood proudly behind the counter. It was a busy day with many of the farmers who lived further out coming out for the market. "Miss how much for three apples?" an older man asked Elwyn.Her Mama was busy helping another customer, so she carefully calculated out the price. "Five coppers sir," she replied.“You are a smart girl, I’ll take three apples please," the man said a twinkle in his dark blue eyes."Mama says that too," Elwyn replied handing him his apples and taking the coins he gave her.The man laughed. "I bet you make her proud. Have a nice day Miss."Elwyn smiled and put the coins in a small purse she was allowed to hold. "Hi Elwyn," her friend Lilia said coming up to the stall."Hi Lilia, I’m helping my Mama sell apples," Elwyn said with pride.Even though Lilia was four years older than her they were the best of friends. "I heard that Flint tried to kiss you and you ran away," she said. "He really likes you."Elwyn made a face wrinkling her nose. "Boys are icky and have cooties," Elwyn replied. "We used to go fishing all the time, now he just blushes and stutters.""It’s because he likes you," Lilia said. "He has a cute older brother too.""You think boys are cute?" Elwyn said disdain clear in her voice."Elwyn you are never going to find a husband with that attitude," Lilia replied with a sigh."I don’t want to find a husband," Elwyn explained, "I want to have adventures and fight dragons and ruffians. Papa is teaching me swordplay.""And you really like that?" Lilia asked."Of course, he says I’m a natural," Elwyn said with a grin.Lilia sighed, knowing her friend would never be feminine like her. "Lilia there you are, I need you to watch Dominic," Lilia’s older sister Astrea said. "I need a few minutes peace and he adores you."Lilia nodded taking her baby nephew in her arms. "Aunt Lilia will take good care of you," Lilia said a soft loving look in her eyes."He’s so cute," Elwyn said watching as Dominic waved his tiny arms about."I can’t wait to get married and have children of my own," Lilia sighed. "When I get married you are going to be in my wedding.""Are you going to make me wear a dress in your wedding? You know how much I don’t like to wear dresses,” Elwyn said making a face at the gown she was currently wearing."Even if it’s for your best friend?" Lilia asked pouting out her lips and sniffling."Very well I’ll wear a dress to your wedding," Elwyn replied."Promise?""Promise," Elwyn replied."Hello Lilia. Nice to see you," Kimora said after she finished helping the customer."Hello Madame Norwood. Nice to see you too," Lilia replied when Dominic began to cry. "I need to go find my sister, he might be hungry.""If you see your Mother let her know I saved a loaf of bread for her," Kimora said."Of course Madame Norwood, bye Elwyn," Lilia said carrying the wailing child away.The day passed by quickly, and the market began to slow as people headed home. Kimora began taking down her stall. "Elwyn will you go deliver the bread to Alani for me please," she said handing her a loaf in a basket."Of course Mama," Elwyn said."Don’t dawdle either, I want you home after you deliver the bread,” Kimora said.“Yes Mama,” Elwyn said and ran off towards Alani’s home.Her best friend’s house was only a five-minute run from the market. The house was painted a pale blue, with white shutters, and a large porch with waving fields of wheat behind it. Elwyn climbed the stairs onto the porch and saw Astrea sitting on a bench shucking green beans. Dominic was asleep in a sling that was strapped around her chest. "Hello Elwyn what brings you here?" she asked."Mama told me to bring the bread over for your mother," Elwyn replied setting the basket on the porch."Well that was nice of her," Astrea said. "Dominic is taking a nap, thankfully. He usually settles down after he eats.”"Mama said not to dawdle. Tell Lilia I said hello," Elwyn said."I will, take care now," Astrea said and waved as Elwyn headed towards home.Villagers waved at Elwyn as she ran down the road to the small white house at the end. She went to straight to the kitchen. "Hey, sweet pea. Ready for dinner?" Silvijn said when he saw Elwyn come inside."I’m hungry Papa," Elwyn replied giving him a hug."Was Alani home?" Kimora asked."No, but Astrea was and I left the bread with her," Elwyn replied sitting down at the table."Good, it’s nice of her mother to help take care of the baby," Kimora said as she and her husband sat down for lunch."Mama, do I really have to get married and have children?" Elwyn asked as she munched on a piece of bread."Just wait till you find a nice boy first," she replied glancing at her husband."He has to be smart and good with his hands." Silvijn agreed nodding his head.Elwyn rolled her eyes. "I don’t even like boys," she said and sighed. “I want to go on adventures and fight off bad guys with my sword.”“I’m sure you will sweet pea,” Silvijn said. “Merle could use some exercise too, why don’t you go riding after dinner.”“Silvijn! You know how I feel about her riding that horse,” Kimora retorted. “He’s much too big for her.”“He would never harm Elwyn,” Silvijn replied. “He’s as gentle as a lamb with her.”“Please Mama, I haven’t gotten to ride him in two days,” Elwyn protested. “I helped you today and yesterday.”“Very well, but be careful,” Kimora replied with a sigh.She knew that once her daughter and her husband agreed on something they would just wear her down until she agreed. Elwyn wasn’t growing up to be a normal little girl. It didn’t help that Silvijn took her to his forge when she was only four years old. When Kimora found out, she was furious. Silvijn reassured her that Elwyn was safe. He showed Kimora her sleeping daughter. Touches of coal dust still coated her skin, even after washing and she clutched a hammer in one tiny fist. A small smile graced Elwyn’s features and she sighed in her sleep pulling the hammer closer. Silvijn explained he wanted someone to pass down his skills. Knowing his past, she agreed.“Can I be excused?” Elwyn said breaking Kimora from her thoughts.“Yes you ‘may’ be excused Elwyn,” Kimora replied with a sigh. “I’ll start hot water for a bath when you return.”Elwyn wrinkled her button of a nose at the idea of a bath. “Yes Mama,” Elwyn said.The small figure of her daughter ran out of the house heading towards Merle’s stable. Silvijn had built a horse barn when he bought Merle as a foal. He stuck his head out of the stall and whinnied softly. “Merle - ready for a ride?” Elwyn asked handing him an apple she snuck out of the house.He munched on it as she carefully pulled her small saddle onto his back. She had to use a stool, since Merle was a tall horse. He waited patiently for his small rider to tighten the girth and put on his halter. Merle allowed himself to be lead by his reins, walking behind the girl like a large dog. With practiced ease Elwyn vaulted into the saddle. Her Papa had taught her the trick so she didn’t need a mounting block. Settling into the saddle Elwyn steered her horse out into the forest that backed their house. It was a perfect day for riding and Elwyn knew it. The forest was cool, the large crowns of trees curling overhead shading their path. As Merle lazily walked among the trees, Elwyn daydreamed.She was a fierce knight for the King battling against raiders and ruffians. Her Papa promised a real sword when she turned fourteen and Elwyn impatiently waited until the time came when he would forge it. For now, she used a wooden sword, heavy in her small hands. Merle and Elwyn came upon a small clearing and Elwyn could see that the sun was lower in the sky. Turning her horse, she headed back home, still dreaming of swordfights and adventure.
10391169	The Sea and the Sky	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Luna, Raven, Murphy", "Fandom": "The 100 (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by lunashilker", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-21T00:00:00", "words": "240", "Additional Tags": "Short One Shot", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Sea Mechanic - Relationship, Luna/Raven Reyes", "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 }	"Get off me! Get off me!" Raven yells as she tries to fight Luna's tight grasp. "Raven! Breathe! Breathe." Luna says as she tries to calm Raven down. "Shh. Shh. Breathe. Breathe." "Should I go get Abby?" Murphy asks concerned over Raven. "No. Listen to my voice, Raven. Breathe in... and out." Luna says in a soft voice to Raven. "I give myself... to the miracle... of the sea.." Luna chants. "Say it. Say it, Raven." "I give myself-" Luna starts the chant again. "I give myself-" Raven repeats after Luna. "... to the miracle-" "... to the miracle-" "... of the sea." "... of the sea." Raven says softly after Luna as she finally feels herself begin to calm down. "I know the darkness. It's okay." Luna says as she begins to rub Ravens arms softly as her breathing becomes softer and softer. "Luna that was so gay." Murphy says as he stares wide eyed at them. All Luna can seem to do at this moment is glare at Murphy. She continues to soothe Raven by softly rubbing her back and arms. Raven suddenly begins to slowly lean back into Luna's chest as she looks up her with a soft smile. Luna smiles back and plants a kiss onto her forehead. Raven can't help but blush, slightly embarrassed she buries her head further into Luna's chest. "Yeah. This is totally gay." Murphy says as he chuckles at the scene in front of him.
10325462	id come for you	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Samantha \"Sam\" Carter, Elizabeth Weir", "Fandom": "Stargate Atlantis", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by TenderRain", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-16T00:00:00", "words": "0", "Additional Tags": "Fanvids", "Relationship": "Samantha \"Sam\" Carter/Elizabeth Weir", "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 }
10382844	long live the car crash	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Riverdale (TV 2017)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-20T00:00:00", "words": "4,585", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Jason Blossom/Jughead Jones", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The back alley behind the drive-in is a more convenient meeting place than it should be, what with his bedroom being literally right around the corner. It’s dark out, the only light coming in is from the moon overhead, partially obscured by swirling gray clouds. He wonders what Riverdale would look like from so far away, if it would make a difference somehow. This is quite possibly the stupidest, most reckless thing he’s ever done. He’s had enough chaos and unpredictability to last him a lifetime, has learned to seek out the stability and comfort he so desperately craves, from his friends, from Archie—He pauses, lets that train of thought come to a screeching halt. He swallows tightly, trying to wash it all down like a bad taste in his mouth. “Do you have what I want or not?” he huffs impatiently, his breath coming out in small bursts of cold.“Patience, Jones,” Jason drawls, sticking his hand into the pocket of his precious letterman jacket. Why he’d choose to wear such an obvious indicator of his identity to a drug deal is beyond Jughead. “What’s got you so riled up?”Jughead takes the small plastic bag in his grip and narrows his eyes. “I had no idea making small talk with your dealer was part of the protocol.”Jason just smirks at him, the edges of his lips curling upwards slightly. “I’m flattered you think I care.” Jughead wants to punch him, wants to knock all his teeth out and watch his nose bleed red. “I couldn’t care less about what you do, Jones. But if you get fucked on stuff you got from me, then it becomes my problem.”“Your reputation as the Golden Boy of Riverdale High is safe with me,” Jughead answers back, rolling his eyes. He lowers his voice. “Between you and me, though, the whole quarterback-turned-drug-dealer schtick is getting old. I suggest finding something else that’ll cement your life as the John Carpenter movie it is.”To his surprise, Jason snorts, genuine amusement flashing briefly across his face. “I prefer Ridley Scott,” he says, and before Jughead can so much as blink, Jason’s walking back the way he came. Jughead looks down at his empty palm in surprise. “On me, Jones,” Jason calls out over his shoulder, holding the plastic bag between his thumb and forefinger. He dangles it in the air, almost like a challenge. “I’ve got more in my car.”Jughead freezes, imagines the backseat of Jason Blossom’s Range Rover, thinks about the flickering of a flame, how the smell will float through the air and seep into the interior. “Wait.” Jason stops but doesn’t turn around. “I know where we can go.”Jason’s gaze is critical but not condescending as he takes in the projection room’s dusty shelves and dim lighting, the cot tucked away in the corner, old sheets and worn blankets piled on top of it. There’s a faded Scarface poster tacked to the wall, its corners creased.“Not a word,” Jughead warns him, and Jason smirks some more before handing him a lit joint.They sit back and smoke in silence for what feels like forever, and it’s only around the third joint that it hits him that he’s actually hanging out with Jason fucking Blossom of all people. Naturally, he finds the whole thing hilarious for some reason.“Jesus Christ, Jones.” Jason brings the joint back up to his mouth, lips parting as he blows out another smoky cloud. He looks bored. “Here I was thinking you and Andrews did this kind of shit all the time.”Jughead leans back against the wall, struggling for air. “No, no, Archie’s—” He wheezes, rests his arm across his stomach. “Archie’s too perfect for that.” He sounds wistful, defeated. “Too perfect for you, maybe,” Jason comments casually, and Jughead flinches. He has no idea what Jason sees in his expression, if he picks up on the panic and hurt rolling through him, emotions not even the strongest of drugs would be able to erase. He wishes to God they could, wishes with everything he’s got left that he could take his feelings back.“Holy shit,” Jason says quietly, slowly, dangerously. “You want him.” Denial immediately rises up within him and bubbles in his throat, trying to claw its way out. But sitting here now, in a small and cramped space, with Jason Blossom by his side, Jughead thinks he doesn’t want to hide. There’s no need to. “Yeah, I—” he starts, and it comes out as a sigh. “Yeah, I do.”“You want him,” Jason says again, and he’s suddenly much too close, his breath fanning across Jughead’s face. His eyes sweep closed as he thinks, If only you knew. “I could be him.”Jughead doesn’t push Jason away, doesn’t say, You could never be him.He doesn’t tilt his head back and blink up at the ceiling, doesn’t inhale until his lungs are bursting, doesn’t say, This can’t end well for either of us.He doesn’t shove Jason onto the cot, doesn’t pin his shoulders down and say, What game are you playing, Blossom?Instead, Jughead opens his eyes just a fraction, just enough for him to think that in this light, with his gaze obscured and his brain clouded over, that Jason’s hair could be a different shade, that he could be a different redhead.Jughead leans forward, exhales against Jason’s lips, softly, warmly, says, “Okay,” and invites him in.—When they’re in eighth grade, Archie finally kisses Jenny Holt, the girl he’s been obsessing over for the last three weeks. He tells Jughead about it later, all bright smiles and wild enthusiasm, and Jughead is less than impressed.Archie is still too short and too skinny and too small for his clothes, but he already sits too close and nudges Jughead too hard and makes too loud comments during math class, Jughead clapping a hand over his mouth before they both get into more trouble.Jughead would follow Archie anywhere. He knows it, has known it since—it doesn’t even matter, all that matters is that he knows, that he feels it, willingly and all the way down to his bones, like a constant hum.“What’s it like, Arch?” Jughead bounces a little on Archie’s bed, his legs crossed on top of the blanket. Mr. Andrews doesn’t mind shoes on the striped sheets. He’s always too preoccupied with Mrs. Andrews to notice. “It’s—it’s pretty great, Jug,” Archie says, peering out the window with the same starry-eyed glance Jughead is going to be seeing more and more over the years. His stomach hurts. “I hope you get to kiss somebody you like one day.”Jughead doesn’t laugh hollowly, doesn’t push himself to his feet and say, Wanna hear something funny, Arch? What if I told you I wanted to kiss you?He doesn’t reach out and grab onto Archie like a lifeline, doesn’t tug his sweater by the sleeve and pull them closer together, doesn’t say, Wouldn’t that be nice?He doesn’t move over and look Archie dead in the eye, doesn’t will him to see what’s staring him right in the face, doesn’t say, There’s no one like you. It’s always been you.Instead, Jughead rolls over and stretches out onto his back, turning towards the wall. He pretends he doesn’t notice the bed dip when Archie jumps on it, doesn’t act like he can feel every inch of space between them.“I hope so, too,” Jughead says.—“Reggie called me the Corpse Bride today,” Jughead says conversationally. “I think he’s been brushing up on his pop culture.”Jason sits back on his heels and looks up at Jughead, carefully assessing. His hair is mussed and his gaze is hooded. “Mantle’s full of shit,” he replies dismissively. “He wouldn’t know a Tim Burton film if it bit him on the ass.”“That’s an oddly specific image,” Jughead notes dryly, the drugs making his head spin. “Is it true what they say about boys’ locker rooms? Or am I just your dirty little secret?” he adds, waiting for Jason to take the bait, to tear him down, something.Jason moves forward until he’s kneeling between Jughead’s legs, and his eyes flash dangerously. He bends down, his cheek pressed against Jughead’s. “I’m not scared, Jones,” he whispers in his ear. “That’s just you.” Jughead tells himself that it’s Jason’s proximity that makes him feel as if all the blood in his veins has turned to ice.“I’m gonna go down on you now,” Jason says without warning. “That cool?” Jughead shuts his eyes and pretends he’s threading his fingers through a different head of hair.—Jughead’s always been fascinated by black and white films, likes the class in them, the timelessness. He sticks to this when it comes to his wardrobe, dressing in muted hues and subtle shades, colors that will render him invisible, one of the background characters.Archie is the opposite, always has been. Archie is red and blue and gold, full of life and brilliance, and when he enters a room, he holds everyone’s attention. Jughead hopes (and wishes and prays and dreams) for the day Archie will walk down the hall and seek him out in the middle of a crowd.He doesn’t bother holding his breath, though.Betty asks him once, while they’re sitting on the bleachers in the scorching sun, a little before Kevin moves to Riverdale and she starts going to him for advice. Archie’s late, stuck in a meeting with Principal Weatherbee, because that’s Archie, always getting himself into the right kind of trouble.“It’s just Archie, you know?” Jughead tells her, even though he feels like his stomach’s about to sink to the ground. He wants to tell her more, that he knows what it’s like to have a piece of his soul stolen by a boy who cares, but who won’t ever see him, not really, not completely. He wants to tell her that Archie collects those fragments and carries them around with him in his pocket, that Jughead’s bit would burn brighter than all the rest.Betty wets her lips, sighs, looks out across the field where the football team is practicing. Jughead thinks he catches a flash of red from where he is, but he’s not too sure.“I wish things were different,” she says, and he thinks, Me, too.—He’s been sitting in the interrogation room for over an hour, the steel chair digging into his back, his body cramping in protest of how rigid his position is, how wound up he is, like a toy solider with a broken spring. Sheriff Keller asked him—no, accused him of killing Jason, and Jughead sat there, amazed he didn’t break out into hysterical laughter right then. No, Sheriff Keller, I don’t know who killed Jason. But I do know he gives a pretty mean blowjob. Want me to write it all down for you?The door opens and Sheriff Keller returns, tells Jughead that he’s free to go. Jughead’s head jerks upwards, his heart filling impossibly with hope that Archie, Betty, his dad—“Ms. Blossom is waiting for you in the lobby,” Sheriff Keller says, twisting his hands together. He looks uncomfortable.He’s out of the room like a shot, and he finds Cheryl waiting for him, seeming so out of place in the middle of all the old furniture and housekeeping magazines, lips pursed together like she can’t quite believe it, either.“Cheryl.” He takes a step towards her, almost positive that this whole day is just some kind of drug-induced hallucination, that he’ll wake up in the drive-in, or in his own home, with his dad employed and his mom singing show tunes for Jellybean in the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”“You didn’t kill him,” she says when they’ve walked out of the station. It’s getting dark, the sun slowly sinking into the horizon. She states this as factually as if she’s discussing the weather. “Jason always—” She pauses delicately. “I know you didn’t.”“Yeah.” He slides into the passenger seat of her car when she gives him a pointed glance, breathes in the familiar scent of expensive leather. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”Her forehead creases, like she’s fighting a headache. The look that comes over her features is wistful and a little sad, almost like she feels sorry for him. “I wonder if you would have been enough to save him,” she says, and starts the engine.Jughead doesn’t dig his fingers into the worn leather, doesn’t pick it apart until it breaks, doesn’t say, What did you want me to do?He doesn’t watch their town flash past him in a blur of color and sound, doesn’t watch people move on with their lives and say, Jason never needed anyone to save him.He doesn’t swallow down the tightness that’s lodged in his throat, doesn’t face Jason’s twin, doesn’t say, I wish I did.Instead, Jughead says nothing. Cheryl drops him off at Pop’s without asking, and it’s only when she’s peeled out of the driveway, the fading sun setting her hair ablaze, does he realize that she probably knew he had nowhere else to go.—“What do you imagine him doing?” Jason breathes, kissing his way down the line of Jughead’s throat.Jughead shifts in place, allowing him more access, and lets himself get lost in the feel of it, where it’s just the want and the heat and none of the ache that comes back when he returns to himself. Archie would never look at him with such casualness.“This,” Jughead manages to say, because how can he tell Jason that he’s never asked for, never expected anything more than Archie, warm and solid next to him, a world where he doesn’t have to count every inch of space between them, where he can just reach out and hold. “Just this.”Jason pauses, his frown imprinted against his skin. “Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got ridiculously low standards?” Jughead doesn’t laugh bitterly, doesn’t sit up and pointedly stare around the shabby projection room with his old books and his rucksack stuffed with clothes, doesn’t tell Jason he’s never had a fucking choice. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re not as great as you think you are?” Jughead counters.To his surprise, Jason falls down next to him, presses his face against Jughead’s stomach. “Cheryl,” he says eventually. “Many times.”That manages to startle a laugh out of Jughead, and Jason grins up at him, looking almost pleased. “Who would have thought the Blossom twins bickered like everyone else?” he deadpans. “I’m two minutes older than her,” Jason says. “Something she has yet to forgive me for.” He lets out a long-suffering sigh and rolls his eyes, and Jughead doesn’t think he’s ever seen Jason act so human. “Pretty fucking funny, isn’t it, Jones?”Jughead thinks, Please call me Jughead, and when Jason’s fingers start to trace patterns along his skin, he doesn’t think of anything at all.—There’s a dance coming up, and Archie’s been rattling off the names of girls in their shared history class for over an hour. He’s thinking, maybe Kylie, you know the one with the blonde highlights, she’s pretty cute, what do you think, Jug?It’s almost summer, the sun high in the sky and the smell of freshly mowed grass cutting into everything else. Jughead wants to take in the scent of new beginnings, the air of untold tales and the glorified, unwritten future.Betty’s sitting next to Archie, an artificial smile plastered on her face, even as she tears the paper napkin on her lap to shreds. Jughead watches the excitement light up Archie’s expression, wonders if he’ll look like that talking about people forever.Jughead’s grown dark and jaded and cynical over the past year, but Archie is still too intense and too vibrant and too idealistic. Sometimes, Jughead can’t stand to look at him.He thinks of lips at the base of his neck, along his jaw, skin against skin, pressing him down until he’s heady and breathless with it. He thinks about Jason’s voice, low in his ear, telling him, I’m not scared, and, That’s just you, and he says, “I wouldn’t know, Arch. I’m gay.”It’s almost comical, the way Archie pauses mid-sentence, how his eyes grow wide and his mouth goes slack, snapping together with a click, and Jughead thinks of all the things he isn’t telling him.“Wow, that’s—” Archie sits back, huffs out a laugh, but claps Jughead on the shoulder. “Thanks for telling me, man,” he says seriously, and Jughead smiles at him, feeling like he really means it for the first time in a while.From the side, he notices Betty watching the two of them thoughtfully, glance heavy with something like pride.— Jason Blossom kissed the same way he lived; with a reckless abandon and a complete disregard for anyone and anything else. Jason Blossom was. Jason Blossom no longer is. Jason Blossom Ctrl-A. Delete. Jason loved his sister with an immediate fierceness that even I envied at times. Despite evidence to the contrary, Jason Blossom was as human as they come. Cheryl knew that. I’d like to believe I knew that, too. Ctrl-A. Delete.—The day Jason’s casket is lowered into the grounds of Thorn Hill is dreary and overcast. There’s a slight chill that hangs over the air, and Jughead stands to the side, feeling like an imposter in a stolen suit in the middle of such a wide, opulent space.Cheryl is a vision in white, and she looks up only once as the procession begins, seeks out his gaze in the middle of the assembled crowd and holds it briefly, her stare loaded down with everything unsaid between them.He watches as Archie makes his way to the front and hands over Jason’s jersey, remembers him coming up to Jughead and telling him that Coach Clayton wanted him to wear it.Jughead hadn’t taken the jersey in his hands, hadn’t stared at the glowing yellow nine until it was imprinted beneath his eyelids, hadn’t said, You’ll never be him.He hadn’t wound his arms around Archie’s shoulders and threaded his fingers in his hair, hadn’t said, You’re much too bright to be in such a dark place.Instead, Jughead had smiled and said, “Congrats, man.”He watches what remains of Jason Blossom disappear before him, and he thinks he should say something. I’m not scared anymore, or, You’re much too bright to be in such a dark place, or, What does Riverdale look like from so far away?But the words don’t come and they get stuck in his throat, alongside the other things he can’t say. Instead, all he thinks is, Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, and even when everyone heads back inside, Jughead crunches the leaves underneath his feet and lets a litany of that one word circle around his mind.—“Why do you live here?” Jason finally asks him. They’re sitting on his cot, facing each other, a movie playing in the background. They haven’t even touched yet, have just been sitting and talking and laughing, and Jughead would blame it on the drugs if there were any in sight, if they hadn’t stopped doing that ages ago.It’s the second week of summer and Archie has been acting strange, blowing him off and making excuses, but the hurt that thrums just underneath Jughead’s skin isn’t as sharp as it used to be, isn’t as overpowering.“Thought you didn’t wanna hear my sob story,” Jughead says sardonically, but Jason frowns, waits for him to explain, and he sighs. “My dad’s a dealer, my mom and my sister live with my grandparents. I don’t like going home very often, as you can imagine.”“What’s she like?” Jason suddenly demands, and there might actually be some genuine curiosity laced into his question, if only Jughead knew how to find it. “Your sister.”“She’s as feisty as Cheryl, that’s for sure,” Jughead says, and the edges of Jason’s lips twitch slightly. He doesn’t even know why he’s sharing this with him, maybe it’s just the illusion that Jason actually cares, aided by the half-lighting and the melancholy soundtrack of Casablanca, still playing on the projector. Maybe it’s the way he cradles Jughead’s face in his hands, how he seeks him out in the middle of a busy hallway.“I’ll believe that when I see it, Jones,” Jason says, and he finally bridges the gap between them and kisses him, cupping his jaw and running a line down the skin of his cheek with his thumb.For once, Jughead closes his eyes and fights to stay in the present.—“Ooh, it’s Truman Capote at work,” Veronica says, sliding into the booth across him. “Hey, Jug,” Betty adds, moving in next to her new best friend. It’s been almost two weeks since Veronica moved into town, and Jughead has yet to have a decent conversation with the new girl.“Are you working on the next Great American Novel?” Veronica asks him, her voice filled with too much faux-cheer. Despite this, he detects an actual hint of genuine curiosity laced in her tone. “Obviously.” It’s as good a reply as she’s gonna get.Betty glares at him, obviously frustrated with his non-response, but Veronica, never one to be discouraged by anything, just leans forward and regards him with interest. “So, this book, you’re writing about everything?”His fingers skitter to a stop, there’s a beat while he slips into memories of long nights under the dim light of a single bulb, a hazy, smoky room, hushed whispers and Jason’s breath ghosting along his skin, asking him, Is this all you pictured it would be?He returns his focus to the screen, though he can no longer see words in front of him, only images. “Yeah, everything.”— Contrary to popular belief, Jason Blossom was actually a huge fucking nerd. He wore glasses because his eyesight was terrible. They weren’t even fashionable designer glasses, either. They were big, black, and hideous, and the first time I saw them I laughed for ten minutes Ctrl-A. Delete. The first conversation I ever had with Jason Blossom was about Ridley Scott. For reasons unknown to me, he liked coming off as a shallow douchebag. This wasn’t true. He liked football, but he also liked Kafka, and he read philosophical texts like a pretentious asshole Ctrl-A. Delete. I met Jason Blossom at a very strange time in my life. I had joined the ranks of the masses and realized that I was in love with my best friend. I went to him for a cheap fix and he let me pretend he was Archie. He was so good at pretending that I didn’t notice I had stopped until it was too late. Ctrl-A. Delete.—It ends the way it begins, in the back alley around the corner from Jughead’s bedroom, Jason standing in the shadow of the weak moonlight, Jughead searching his face for any signs of something, but finding none.“I’m leaving, Jones,” he tells Jughead, and he almost seems sure, if only he would meet Jughead’s gaze. “Finally getting out of this town.”“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me why,” Jughead deadpans, like the earth hasn’t shifted on its axis and he’s not falling through empty space, all at once too light and weighed down.Jason gives him an infuriating smirk, and it’s like they’re back to square one, like none of it happened. But Jughead knows it did. He knows it in the way he doesn’t wish (and think and hope and pray), in the way he no longer feels like he’s drowning, like he can finally keep himself afloat.Without warning, Jason takes two steps forward and frames Jughead’s face with his hands. He takes his time, sucking on his bottom lip and slipping his hands under Jughead’s hat to tangle his fingers in his hair. It tastes a lot like goodbye, without the promise of a, See you soon.“I’m not the one you want,” Jason says when they finally separate. Jughead tells himself that it’s Jason’s proximity that makes him feel as if all the blood in his veins has turned to ice.Jughead doesn’t whisper back, doesn’t say, You’ll never be him.He doesn’t reach out and hold his palm flat against Jason’s chest, feeling his heartbeat hum beneath his fingertips, doesn’t say, I don’t want you to be.He doesn’t grab onto Jason’s wrist, doesn’t tug him into the projection room, doesn’t pull him back into their safe space, doesn’t say, Stay. Instead, Jughead inhales, fills his lungs with air, counts to ten, breathes, “Okay,” and watches Jason disappear into the dark like he’s sinking into the shadows.— There might be, I think, a wrong shade of red after all. Ctrl-A. Delete.—“Cheryl says you and Jason were close,” Veronica comments one night, pulling a plate from the sink and drying it down with a fluffy white towel.The two of them are standing in the middle of her kitchen, returning plates to the drying rack. He’s been living with the Lodges for over a month, ever since Veronica put two and two together and figured out why he’d been spending so much time at Pop’s.Jughead tells himself that this arrangement is merely temporary. Veronica tells him that it’s his turn to do the dishes and to please just leave his goddamn toothbrush in the bathroom already. It’s not home, but Veronica sings show tunes in the morning and Mrs. Lodge brings in burgers every other day, and Jughead finds himself thinking, Okay.“Not really,” Jughead replies, and he looks down at the plate in his hands. It’s overly bright all of a sudden, the ceramic almost blinding. He watches his distorted reflection move along the surface and swallows thickly. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”He’s not sure what Veronica sees on his face, doesn’t know if she detects the quake in his voice. But she’s already seen him more than most people, and it’s enough for him to wish that he’d given her a chance earlier. “It does, though,” she says gently, softly, factually, and Jughead feels something inside him dissolve. “Doesn’t it?”He buries his face in her shoulder, inhales through his nose, exhales through his mouth, in and out, eyes pressed shut until he sees stars.—Archie still sits too close and nudges him too hard. He asks Jughead, “As friends, right?” with a too wide smile and a softening glance. He sticks up for Jughead and steals food off his plate and makes him laugh, but Jughead no longer feels that ache, that emptiness. He’s finally treading water, and he has no intention of going back under.— Jason Blossom’s death wasn’t just the tragedy of a small town. It was an event that touched the lives of those he left behind, whether he would have wanted to or not. There’s the obvious choice, like the part he played in Cheryl’s life. But he also left a space to be filled by Archie, and later on, by Veronica. As for me, as painfully cliché as it sounds, Jason Blossom taught me how to live. Maybe no one will ever know about everything that went on between us in the last year, but I don’t mind. I’ll know, and that’s good enough for me. Ctrl-A. Delete.
10332143	Midnight Visits	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Jane Rizzoli, Maura Isles", "Fandom": "Rizzoli & Isles", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by imbethwhittaker", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-17T00:00:00", "words": "2,145", "Additional Tags": "Post-Season/Series 01, Pre-Season/Series 02, Hurt/Comfort, Angst", "Relationship": "Maura Isles/Jane Rizzoli", "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 }	Maura woke up with a scream, sweat dripping down her face and her breathing erratic. Despite the reading she had done on lucid dreaming, the nightmare had still ended the same. She had been able to control most of the dream, she had kept Jane and Frankie safe for as long as she could, but somehow Jane still managed to overpower her, no matter how much she had told her that she would die. No matter how much she tried, Jane let herself be taken hostage, and it had always resulted in the same way—she was dead.She sat in her bed, trying to control her breathing. She wondered what she could have done to help her best friend, even Angela and Frankie—who was thankfully alive and well—had told her she had done all she could.Slipping her feet into her slippers, Maura knew that sleep for the rest of the night was futile. The soft slapping of her slippers was the only sound throughout her house, and for the first time since the incident, she was glad that she was alone.As a physician and a friend, she had helped Jane through more traumatic experiences than she could count. For Maura, it felt like Jane was throwing herself into more dangerous situations than she could count. Still, she stood by the cop no matter what and helped her with coping mechanisms—most of which Jane had joked and laughed about, but Maura knew she tried them when she was alone in her apartment.After washing her face, Maura reached for the first clothes she could find; a pair of grey slacks and a white blouse. She left her bedroom and headed for the front door, grabbing her car keys and slipping on black heels.Her destination was ingrained in her mind already, but she still felt herself being over-cautious during her drive. She stopped at every stop sign, triple checked every intersection and drove just under the speed limit. Despite being the one to always look after Jane, she knew the brunette needed her now more than ever, and she couldn’t afford to get herself into an accident.Less than ten minutes later, Maura was pulling into the parking lot of Massachusetts General Hospital. Like her drive here, the way from the car park to the ward Jane was hadn’t left her mind since the first time she had been here a month ago.Her heels clicked on the floor in time to the beeping of the machines, the machines that were keeping the copious amounts of people alive throughout the night. Despite the beeping, Maura noted how quiet the hospital seemed; it reminded her of the morgue. Her days of treating live people were behind her. The rotations of medicine she did in this hospital as an intern are what pushed her to become a medical examiner—she took a small comfort of knowing she could help the people on her mortuary tables more than what she could help them if they were alive.As Maura rounded the corner, she saw the nurses at the station, and they gave her a welcoming smile. They knew that she would be coming, and despite it being against visiting hours, they had allowed her to come when the hospital was quieter.“How is she doing?” Maura asked as she reached the station.The nurse logged into the system to bring up Janes medical notes, “She’s still stable, and her stats are fine,” she read, “She ate a little food today, but I think she’s still struggling with sleep.”“Is she awake now?”“My rounds don’t start for another fifteen minutes, you’re welcome to go in.”Maura thanked the nurse and turned on her heels to head for Jane’s room. She noted the fact that rounds were starting in fifteen minutes and told herself to be out in ten to avoid Jane seeing her.When she reached the door, she slipped her heels off to minimise the chance of waking Jane; she just needed to see the brunette to make sure that she was okay—that the dream wasn’t real.“Who’s there?” a panicked voice spoke out.Maura took a deep breath. This was not part of the plan. “It’s just me.”“Maura?” as Jane spoke, the small bedside lamp switched on illuminating the dull room. For a moment, Jane couldn’t believe that Maura was here, so she just stared at the medical examiner standing in the doorway to her hospital room.“Yes.” Maura wasn’t sure what to do; she usually just sat in the dark taking in the comfort that her friend was still alive. “I, uh, I should go.”Jane sat up quickly in her bed, forgetting about her stitches for a moment. She whimpered in pain when they pulled from the rough moment, which caused Maura to move across the room faster than she had done before.“Jane, you’ll pull your stitches out if you move too fast,” she rambled.“Not my first rodeo, Maur’,” Jane laughed.Maura sat down on the chair next to the bed and looked over Jane. She hadn’t seen her in weeks, and she couldn’t believe how much she had changed in that time—gone was the spunky, headstrong detective with a heart made of gold; instead, the woman in front of her was a mere fraction of who Jane was.“Are you okay?” Maura regretted her question straight away. Her best friend had been shot, of course, she wasn’t okay. “I’m sorry, of course you’re not okay.”Jane rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she half thought that she was having some kind of weird dream from the painkillers, but when she opened her eyes again, Maura was still there.“It’s not that I don’t appreciate your visit, Maura, I haven’t seen you for weeks, but it’s the middle of the night.”Maura slipped her heels back on before standing, she knew she shouldn’t be here, and she had just made it weird between her and Jane. “I shouldn’t be here, I’ll leave.”“Maura, sit back down.”Maura ignored Jane and carried on walking towards the door.“Maura, I swear to God, I will get out of this bed–”Maura turned swiftly at the mention of Jane getting out of bed, “You’ll pull your stitches, you could injure yourself again.”“Then sit the fuck back down.”Maura was shocked at the abrasiveness of Janes language; she had never spoken to her like that before. Wordlessly Maura obliged and sat back down in the chair, she could feel herself shutting off—during their friendship she had never been in a situation this awkward, and she had no idea what to do.“I’m sorry,” Jane whispered after a few minutes of silence, “I didn’t mean to–”“You have nothing to be sorry for, Jane.”“Maura,” Jane’s voiced cracked, “I saw your face after I shot the gun,”—she ran her fingers through her matted hair, wincing when she reached the knots—” God, I’ve never seen you look like that before… seeing that face haunts my dreams.”Maura knew precisely what Jane was speaking about, she had automatically assumed the worst when she had seen the struggle between her and Bobby, but she never thought that Jane would have been affected by her actions, or lack thereof.Throughout their friendship, Jane had always put everyone else first, no matter what the situation was. It was the only thing that Maura hated about the detective in the years she had known her because she never knew when she was going to see her alive for the last time.“I don’t know what to say, Jane.”Jane sighed, “The truth might be a start.”Maura stared at her lap, her fingers playing with the seam of her blouse. She knew what she wanted to say, she had known for a while, but the fear of rejection from Jane was too high, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to lie without breaking out in hives.“Maura,” Jane pulled the covers from her body and swung her legs over the side of the bed, trying her best to ignore the searing pain from her wound. “You’re fidgeting. Why?”“I wish you’d think about the people who love you, Jane,” her words were barely audible, but she took a deep breath and looked at Jane. She moved the short distance from the chair and sat next to Jane on the bed. “What would have happened if you died? How would your parents or brothers feel? What about me?”“They’d grieve for a while, but they’d get on with their lives,” Jane said softly. “So would you.” Jane knew her job was hard on her family, especially her mother, but out of everyone she thought maybe Maura would understand.Maura’s eyes welled up with tears, and she looked in the opposite direction to hide the ones that had started to fall so that Jane couldn’t see her cry. The detective’s words had hit harder than she ever thought they could.“I’m okay, Maura, you don’t have to be upset.” Jane put her arm around Maura and pulled her close, “I’m too stubborn to die, plus I gotta be around when you have kids so I can teach them how to be little shits,” she laughed.Maura rested her head against Jane and sniffled, “You will do nothing of the sort. Our children will behave perfectly.”The doctor froze when she realised what she had said, Our. Our children. She had only let herself daydream about a small Rizzoli-Isle family in the confines of her bedroom. Her bedroom had been the place of copious amounts of daydreams about family trips and what pets the children would beg her and Jane for and Jane secretly going behind her back.Jane pulled her arm back, shocked by the words her best friend had spoken. “Our children? Care to explain?”Maura knew that there was no simple way of explaining this; there was no way to cover this with a simple misspoken word or telling Jane she had misheard what she had said. Deep down, she knew that it was now or never, she had to tell Jane how she felt, and she had to accept the consequences of Janes reaction.She wiped the tear tracks on her face as she stood up and backed away from Jane, hoping that any kind of distance would lessen her feelings. “I love you.”“Maura, you’re my best friend. I love you, too.”“Jane,” Maura said forcefully, she hoped that Jane would hear her without having to explain, “I love you.”Jane stared at Maura, she could see how uncomfortable the medical examiner was, and she heard every word she was saying. It took her a moment, but when she realised the extent of the words, it felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders—Maura felt the same way she did. She slid off the bed carefully, pushing the pain to the back of her mind because she now had the medicine that could help her heal.“Why are you standing?” Maura asked, “Are you going to hit me?” She knew Jane would never hurt her, but it didn’t stop her from taking a few steps back. “Please don’t hit me.”“Why would I hit you?” Jane used the edge of the bed for support as she inched her way over to Maura, “And stop moving away, you’re making this more difficult for me.”“Why?”“You just told me you loved me, and I’m gonna go out on a whim to say that means you’re in love with me?”Maura nodded, she had no idea how Jane was going to react, but she wasn’t expecting this.Jane pushed through the pain and took the last two steps, stumbling into Maura with a grunt. She stood mostly on her own, but she knew if Maura made any sudden movements, she would go tumbling to the ground. One hand rested on Maura’s hip while the other brushed back a loose strand of blonde hair.“Just let me kiss you, you dumb genius.”“That contradicts itself, I’m either dumb or a–”Jane pressed her lips to Maura’s. The kiss was chaste, but it had never felt more natural to the brunette, and she chastised herself for waiting as long as she did to kiss her. Jane pulled back and looked into Mauras eyes for some kind of acceptance or rejection. She was taken away by how beautiful the eyes of the blonde were, the bright blue with small flecks of green sent shivers down her spine.“I’m either dumb or a genius,” Maura finished with a smile, “I cannot be both, it’s impossible.”“God, I love you,” Jane said with a laugh, kissing Maura once again because now she could.
10379517	Trust Me	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-20T00:00:00", "words": "1,376", "Additional Tags": "Reader-Insert, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Bucky Barnes, Female Reader, Omega Reader, Second person POV, Established Relationship", "Relationship": "James \"Bucky\" Barnes/Reader", "Character": "James \"Bucky\" Barnes", "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The topic of suppressants had come up a few times between the two of you. Hydra kept Bucky on them for so long to avoid him lashing out and fighting alphas in charge. The Bucky you know and love isn't one to pick fights with other alphas (or anyone, really), but when Hydra wiped his memories he was relying purely on evolutionary instincts. Bucky has gone through extensive therapy in Wakanda to no longer be affected by the Russian words that once activated the Winter Soldier. Steve worked hard to clear the names of his teammates who stood by him, and Tony also went through therapy to cope with his anger surrounding the death of his parents. During that time you had been hired as an in-house medic at the Avengers compound. Your job ranged from disinfecting simple wounds new agents got during training to stitching up bullet wounds and gashes from missions the Avengers went on. You met Steve when you had to remove a bullet from his shoulder. Despite insisting that he didn't need stitches, a simple bandage would do since the serum would heal it faster, you told him to sit his butt back down and that he was getting stitches. Though he was still in Wakanda and healing, Steve thought of Bucky when he met you. He knew Bucky and you would click and he became friends with you himself, as well. When Bucky moved to the compound, Steve went to work with trying to set the two of you up. Steve was right, the two of you had clicked instantly. However, Bucky was initially too nervous to ask you out. You hoped that him coming to you for cuts and scrapes that didn't need your attention was his way of trying to show you he liked you. You didn't want to push him into something he wasn't ready for yet, but when he politely asked if you would like to go to dinner with him, you responded "yes" before he even finished his sentence. The date went perfectly and he asked you to officially be "his girl". That was two years ago and you've since bonded and moved in together, but he still had yet to stop taking suppressants. He explained to you that even after escaping Hydra he continued to take them, because he didn't trust himself to remain calm. From then on you tried to remind him often of how much you trust him, and though you didn't want to push him, you told him that you think he'd be fine without the suppressants. Eventually he tells you he's taking smaller doses and then will stop taking them altogether. Even if Bucky would never admit to not feeling well, you can tell he doesn't. He seems feverish and is unusually clingy. You can tell the last of the suppressants are making their way out of his system. His scent is more prominent than usual and his appetite increased; he's going to start his rut soon. You know this is going to screw up your own cycle, but you can't help but be excited. He could already keep up with your heats even on suppressants and you can imagine his libido would be through the roof while rutting. Despite not knowing exactly when Bucky's rut will start you go to work as you're not far away. A nagging feeling brings you home early though. Bucky approaches you as soon as you open the door, wearing just sweatpants. "Missed you," he mumbles, pulling you close to him. You take the opportunity to scent him and lord; he's always smelled amazing to you, but he's got you weak in the knees today. "I missed you too, baby," you reply. He tugs your hips so they're against his own, and you can feel his hard on."Not as much as I missed you." He kisses along your jawline and you feel yourself becoming wet. He moves down to kiss along your bond mark. "Need you, doll.""Take me to bed then, alpha." He taps the back of your thigh and you take the cue to jump up and wrap your legs around him. As he walks you to his bedroom you take the opportunity to kiss along his neck and bond mark, as he had done to you just a moment ago. When he reaches the bed he lays you down and moves to take off your shirt as your hands move to his sweatpants. After rushing to get your clothes off you roll over onto your knees with your face down, presenting yourself. You expected Bucky to be far too worked up to be teased, his cock looked painfully swollen, and the hormones from his rut had you wet enough to take his knot. To your surprise Bucky positions himself on his back and under you, pulling your hips down to his face. He swirled his tongue around your entrance and spread your slick from there to your clit. He laps his tongue in circles around it. "God, Bucky..." you moaned. He hummed around your clit in response, causing you to shiver. With one hand on your hip, his other hand finds its way to your tits, kneading one of them. You feel your orgasm approaching quickly. "Bucky, gonna make me cum," you moan out. He brings his hand down from your breasts back to your hip to keep you on his face while you orgasm. You shout out his name, but even after you cum he keeps his mouth on your pussy. He moves a hand again and shifts himself so that he can slip a finger into your entrance. He can quickly add another with how wet you are and curls his fingers. Still sensitive from the last orgasm, you feel yourself about to cum again. You tug at his hair as you cum and shout his name. He comes out from under your thighs and kneels behind you. "Ready to take my knot, doll?" he whispers huskily. "Yes," you moan out as he runs his hands over your ass. He gives one cheek a quick spank before lining his cock up, slipping in easily. He fills you perfectly and gives you a moment to adjust after his hips are against your ass. He starts out with a slow, teasing pace as usual but quickly becomes needy for more and speeds up the movement of his hips. He leans forward to run a hand over your breasts again. "You like that, baby? Like how I fill you up?" he growls out. "God, yes, Buck. So good," you say breathily. "You gonna cum for me doll? Your pussy feels so good an tight, gonna make me cum." Keeping one hand on your ass, he moves the other from your breasts to your clit, rubbing in slow circles. "Yes, Bucky!" you shout out. He feels you starting to tighten around his cock and pulls out to get on his back underneath you. "Wanna see your pretty face when I knot you, baby girl," he mumbles, lining himself up with you again. He brings a thumb back to your clit. "Bounce on my cock, baby." You put your hands on his chest to support yourself and try to match the pace he was fucking you at a moment ago. "I'm so close," you moan to him. His thumb speeds up on your clit."Cum for me, baby," Bucky says. As you let out a scream when you cum, he groans deeply, feeling your pussy squeeze around his cock. He lets out a long moan as his knot inflates and he spills his cum inside you. You lay on top of his chest while you both catch your breath, his arms around you. "I love you," he whispers, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. "I love you too, baby," you say, "and I told you it wouldn't be so bad comin' off the pills." You return a kiss to his lips and then rest your head in the crook of his neck, near his bond mark."Shuddup," he mumbles sleepily. You both rest up, considering his rut will most likely set off your heat early. It won't be such a bad one though.
10356927	Red Snow	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": "Other", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Katawa Shoujo", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by Demando", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-18T00:00:00", "words": "2,986", "Additional Tags": "death blind guide dog", "Relationship": null, "Character": "Lilly Satou", "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 }	“Yo, Lilly, I’m home!” The young girl dropped the cubes she was playing with, and turned her head towards the source of the sound. Her hazy blue eyes looked in vain around the room. “Onee-sama, where are you?” inquired the blonde girl, her face showing a cute pout. No answer came. Lilly got up, and began to walk around, her arms outstretched. One of her feet kicked a small pile of plastic cubes, almost making her loose balance. “Onee-sama…” she said, before being cut of by two very familiar arms, who hugged her from behind. The six year old cried out, then giggled, rolling on the floor with her captive. Her hands reached to the older girl’s face, feeling her. The hands drifted to her chest, feeling it. “Is this a new t-shirt?” asked the girl. “Sure is” confirmed Akira. “Got it two days ago.” “It feels really nice” said Lily, feeling it in her fingers. “Bet it looks really nice on you.” Akira chuckled, releasing her sister from her hug. Lilly sat on the floor, looking in the direction she assumed her sister was. “How was school today, sis?” “Nice and dandy. And it looks like you made quite a mess of your room while I was gone.” Lilly’s face became flushed with embarrassment, before crossing her arms. “Just fooling with ya kid!” laughed Akira, messing up her hair. “This place never looked better.” “You’re such a tease, Onee-sama” chuckled Lilly, still sitting on the carpet. “That I am.” Replied Akira, turning her back. Lilly perceived the sound of the door knob turning, followed by the sound of footsteps. “Where you going?” inquired Lilly. “Be right back” called Akira’s voice, still outside the room. About a minute later, Lilly heard the familiar sound of her sister’s feet entering the room. But a second sound came in as well. It was also the sound of someone…or something walking into her room. “Onee-sama, what’s that?!” asked Lilly in a puzzled tone. “Got a present for ya.” Laughed Akira. The sound of footsteps came closer. Lilly could tell that they were not human. Her fingers gripped her skirt, and she became visibly startled. “W…what is it?!” asked Lilly, desperately looking for Akira’s comforting presence. No answer came. Lilly stretched out her hand, and her fingers made contact. It was wet…and fleshy. A sound reached her hearing. Feint, but still there. A tear streacked along Lilly’s cheeks. “Akira….” The…something that her fingers had touched moved. Her fear gripped hand rubbed against something longer…and hairy. Before the blind girl could react, something else touched her palm. It felt rough, wet, but at the same time gentle. It make quick strokes, making her fingers feel sticky. “Like my present sis?” Before Lilly could answer, the puppy jumped in her lap and went for her face. His tongue left long, wet streaks along her left cheek, before the blonde girl lifted him in her arms. The puppy let out several barks, panting and wiggling in her hands. “So cute…thanks Onee-sama.” Lilly’s hands gently went along the puppy’s head, going along the neck, and the rest of the body. She felt the fur, getting bit by bit pieces of information in her mind. He’s clearly enjoying what she was doing, thought Lilly, as the puppy gripped one of her fingers with his teeth, squeezing gently. “So what’ya gonna name him sis?” asked Akira. Lilly scratched her hair, thinking of a name. The puppy had settled down, curled up in her lap. “I think….I’ll call him…Niji.” “Great choice kiddo.” Agreed Akira, scratching Niji behind the ear. “Hold on Lills, I wanna do something.” Lilly could detect that her sister was setting something up. Niji sat up in Lilly’s lap, letting out a quick bark. “What’s wrong Niji?” asked Lilly, running her fingers along his face. The puppy barked in response, licking her fingers. Lilly felt her sister moving quickly next to her. “Smile sis.” Lilly was too preoccupied with her new friend to pay attention. The only thing that reached her was a feint click. “What was that?” “Oh, nothing, just a little something for the family album.” replied Akira, picking up her camera. 4 months later “Go Niji, catch.” Niji barked loudly, his feet making rushed sounds in the grass. Moments later, Lilly felt the stick placed in her hand. Her fingers searched for the dog’s head, petting him gently. “Good boy.” The dog replied with a series of barks, rubbing against the girl’s leg. The weather was certainly in their favor, so she decided she could spend more time in the yard. Her mother usually finished dinner by 13:20 PM. The smell of cooked food from the opened kitchen window could reach her with ease. She felt her stomach grumbling. Niji replied, as if to approve. Time had passed quickly, she could tell. The dog had grown considerably, and she could feel it was as tall as her waist. The company he provided had become invaluable. Almost like a patch of green in an otherwise blank world. She smiled. And remained smiling, feeling the noon sun on her face.***** The alarm punctuated the sentence of her sleep with dozens of needles of sounds. Lilly’s hand searched for a few moments for the alarm clock, and turned it of. Next to her, Akira was just getting up from her bed as well. “Morning sis.” Yawned the older girl, stretching her arms. Lilly replied politely, and sat patiently on the bed. She heard the door of the closet open, and a few moments later, Lilly felt some clothes placed next to her. “Can you manage without me? I gotta go find Niji.” Said Akira. “Um…why?” inquired Lilly. Before her sister could answer, a car pulled up in front of the house. Lilly heard her mother talking, then Niji’s bark. The sound of their front door opening followed, then her mother speaking to a man she hand never heard before. The blind girl got up in fright, desperate to find the door. “Onee-sama, what are they doing?” “Relax kid, they’re just taking him away for a while. They’re gonna make him even better for you.” “No!” cried out Lilly, “I want him back!” Her whole world became disorientated. She wanted to reach him. No matter where she went. Akira grabbed her arm, but Lilly clung back, a look of dread and, much to Akira’s shock, hate on her face. She walked forwards, stumbling on some books on the floor. She fell with a whimper, feeing a sharp pain in her knee. “NIJI!” she cried out. Staggering to her feet, she felt her way around, until her fingers made contact with the cold glass of the window. Her eyes opened, and desired to see. She truly desired. Yet the only thing that greeted her gaze was the ever familiar darkness. The feeling of a pair of arms around her waist followed. The familiar feeling of her sister was soothing. Words reached her hearing, unfamiliar sounds of “special course”, “seeing eye dog”, “return soon” swirled in her mind like the forever unseen clouds. Yet only one word mattered in her mind: Niji. 3 years later A single leaf fell in Lilly’s opened hand. The morning had come, with gentle, but cold breeze going through her hair. She didn’t need a calendar to tell her the seasons. Mother nature was doing a good job by herself. She stretched out her cane, and made her way back to the house. Her feet made the grass beneath them crunch, just another sound among the many that made-up Lilly’s world. She was surprised how amazingly detailed sound could be. Even breathing. Each person had his or her kind of breathing. Hers was always steady and calm. Her sister’s, by contrast, was somewhat rushed, other times sounding like the cracking of old twigs. She sighed. Sounds were always a blessing. A few steps later, and another sound, distinct from the tapping of the cane reached her ears. She halted. It was indeed the sound of feet in the grass. But to her shock, they weren’t human. Her head turned, trying to determine the direction of the sound, but it moved too fast. Her heart froze. “Who is it?” she cried out, but no reply came. Her feet refused to move until her ears had discovered the source of the sound. A new vibration reached her ears now. It was breathing. A breathing mixed by panting, impatient and eager. Lilly’s mouth opened, but before any words came out, a quick series of barks cut her of. Two paws made contact with her crotch, and a very familiar tongue licked her cringed fingers. For a brief moment Lilly lost balance, falling on her side. The dog sat next to her, allowing the girl to run his hands over his back. Her eyes opened, still in darkness, but seeing though the eyes of her now overflown with joy heart. Her fingers made contact something attached to the dog’s back. “Niji” wept the girl, cleaning the tears with her sleeves. “Told you he’ll be back sis”. Akira’s familiar voice startled her from the euphoric state she was in. Too many questions came to her mind in too much of a short time. “Onee-sama, how is this possible?!” “It was mum’s idea. We really hit the jackpot. The reason we took Niji was that she got an offer for a free seeing-eye dog course.” “Seeing-eye dog?” inquired Lilly. “Got that right. From now on, he’s not just a pet. He’s gonna be your eyes…sorta. He’s been trained to help you walk in town, to cross the street, bring things to you, all the sorta things you need to get around more than you do.” Lilly remained speechless. Before her mind could formulate a response to Akira, she felt her sister’s hand on her own, guiding it to the dog’s back. She picked up the leash of the harness, placing it in Lilly’s outstretched fingers. The blind girl hesitated for a moment, but the excitement gave her all the encouragement she needed. “Up Niji!” commanded Akira. With a bark, Niji sprang up. Lilly got up as well, confused since she had lost track of her cane. She was now dependent on the living creature at the end of the leash. “Home, Niji” exclaimed Akira. With a bark, Niji turned around Lilly’s legs, gently leading his master to the familiar sounds and smells of the house. My cane! How can I manage without… Her thoughts melted into her mind. They didn’t matter. Niji was back. And that was all it mattered. 6 years later Snow always gave Lilly mixed feelings. The distinct crunch sound beneath her feet made it enjoyable to walk in, but also somewhat inconvenient. True, she did have Niji, but even he wasn’t sharp enough to find the small objects in her path, and her cane was hard to use, since any potential obstacle was under five inches of snow. Niji looked up to her mistress, and let out a series of barks, before turning left. Lilly followed his lead, still holding her cane firm. The temperature had dropped considerably, and knowing the mountainous regions, the snow was going to stick for some time. Saying goodbye to Akira was probably the hardest thing of all. Despite all their differences, there was no denying their close ties. She was her family away from family. The rough businessman…okay businesswoman, and her, the gentle housewife. Lilly giggled in her head. She remembered all the times she had tried to get Akira to learn to cook more than eight courses. Most attempts left the kitchen in a mess which made Lilly thankful that she didn’t have the capacity to see. She let her mind wander. It was the first time that her blindness had become a trap. Having her own room at the Yamaku dorms was good, but it still felt lonely. She had spend the first semester just getting the hang of the area, and by now, she had quite a picture in her mind of the main places of interest for her. Though she got along the school well enough, she still needed Niji for trips outside, and around town. He was still her own very companion. The living link between her and Akira. She felt Niji stop, and instinctively, she did the same. “Are we at the store?” inquired Lilly gently. No response came. She felt Niji tense up, then letting out a series of alert barks. Lilly took a gentle step back, looking worried around. Her heart raced, since she had no way to determine what had made Niji to act so aggressive. The guide-dog barked again, scratching the snow with it’s paws. Another series of barks came in reply, and Lilly’s ears perceived they weren’t from her companion. They were more guttural and deep. Before Lilly could react, she felt something grip her cane, and yank it from her hand with violence. This was enough to make her collapse on her side, releasing the grip on Niji’s harness. Her fingers searched the snow in panic, looking for the cane. The familiar sounds of the town hadn’t reached her ears, so they were still somewhere on the road. She screamed for help, but the only reply was the sharp, cold wind, and the barks of the two dogs. She distinguished Niji quite clearly. The other dog barked violently, and a series of incoherent mixture of snarls, gnashing, and squealing followed. Lilly gripped her arms in fright. Her entire universe was now defined by one word: FEAR. The fear of the cold. The fear of the dog that had attacked. And in the back of the head, a fear that she wanted to keep in check at all costs: the fear of loosing Niji. A sharp yelp of pain reached her ears, followed by the sound of something violently falling in the snow next to her. The animal got up, shaking the snow from it’s fur, still panting for breath. It turned for a brief moment, and Lilly felt a warm and familiar tongue licking her gloved hand. The touched his fur quickly, and felt her glove sticky. A tide of horror struck her like a hammer. He’s bleeding. Dear God, he’s bleeding. Before Lilly could react, Niji ran from her again, and the sound of battle resumed. Lilly remained frozen in place, unable to determine which screams of pain came from which dog. She could only hope. Hope that Niji would win. She heard the jaws of one of the dogs clamp shut, the head shaking violently. A surreal sound, a mixture of gargling, half snarl and chocking followed, then another series of barks. Lilly slowly crawled in that direction, then halted. There was silence. One of the dogs was advancing towards her. Her face was by now soaked in tears, some of which had become frozen crystals on her cheeks. A feint, but still familiar bark reached her. Niji’s voice was feint, and when the dog opened it’s jaws again, it coughed, and a thick drop of blood fell on Lilly’s sleeve. “Niji…” The dog stretched next to her, as he had done hundreds of times before. He was panting, his tongue outstretched. His side was soaked in blood, and one of his eyes were missing. He shifted his head towards his owner. Trembling, Lilly reached out her hand, touching Niji’s head. The dog twitched in pain, but remained still. The girl’s voice seemed strange, even to herself. “Niji…you….no…please, stay with me!” The dog gave one last bark, before collapsing on it’s side in the snow. Two or three spasms shook him, then he remained still. Lilly had worked her way around, until she managed to curl up next to him. Her pet’s body felt unusually warm. “It’s okay Niji, I’m here for you.” The cold of the snow gripped Lilly as in a crystal, but her mind was still in other places. Places where the creature next to her was not broken and bloodied. Places where she could imagine Niji for what he was: her hero. Flashes of rememberence filled her head. The day she received her first set of cubes with outline formed on them. The day she cooked her first meal. The day Niji came to their house. The photo of Akira and Niji she would never get the chance to see. She felt the dog’s breath become more jagged, followed by a long spasm. Her fingers gripped his fur, and as if by magic, the sounds around them froze, deep in the ice of her own intention. Two sounds of the same kind remained though: the sounds of their hearts beating. Akira. Thanks for the best gift you ever gave me, onee-sama. They remained in that embrace for what it seemed years. Lilly was becoming conscious of the thing layer of snow that was staring to form on her. She didn’t want to die. But part of her said that if she was going to, it might as well be here. Slowly, other sounds were beginning to mix with the steady rhythm of the hearts. Some distant, some near, but all of them fragmented. The hell…ambulance…quick. Hey…rabid dog…looking for. Poor girl…school…no responsibility… She tried her best to ignore them. Her desperate hope was to focus on the sound of the heart. With one great effort, she blocked her mind from the advancing shadows around her, and opened her ears to the only sound that mattered. The heart still beat with the sound of thunder. One sound, but whose? Her mind desperately tried to make sense of it, as she felt arms removing her from her frozen embrace. My heart. It was my heart all along. Niji’s had long died out.
10311131	Time To Ones Self	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Underfell Papyrus - Character, Underswap Papyrus - Character, Undertale Papyrus - Character", "Fandom": "Undertale (Video Game)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by FamousSmuggler", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-15T00:00:00", "words": "6,501", "Additional Tags": "Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Vampire AU, Vampire UT!Papyrus, Thrall UF!Papyrus, Pet!US!Papyrus, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Emotional Baggage, Papyrus wants to give his thrall space, Stretch is bad at listening, Determination (Undertale), Emotional Recovery", "Relationship": "Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "M/M, Multi", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	It was that time of year again. Papyrus noticed it far before the signs had truly even shown. He was always well aware of the shifts in his thrall’s magic as this time of year came about, the memory of everything that happened all of those years ago still had some hold. He would never push to change it, but a large part of him wished that he could do something to at least ease the pain. That was the problem with living forever; your memory, your pain, they remained. As permanent as you. “Master Papyrus?” the soft voice of his pet pulled his gaze away from the window. Papyrus gave his best smile as to not worry the pet with the problems of centuries passed, but if the strange look he was receiving was any indication, even young Stretch could sense the shift in the manor. The master vampire motioned for Stretch to come over, gripping his hand gently as he pulled the pet against him in a soft embrace before moving away to look down at the monster, his cheeks already lightly dusted a golden orange. “Is something the matter, Stretch?” The pet began to shake his head but stopped midway and sighed. Papyrus raised a brow ridge at the reluctance “Did something happen?” It was quite possible, this was the first time he and Fell had someone with them during these times, but he hadn’t sensed anything completely out of the usual. Everything was still as dreary as it had been the past week. Stretch scratched the back of his skull, sighing again “I am supposed to be with Fell today, but I can’t seem to find him anywhere.” Papyrus hummed in consideration but before he could speak Stretch continued “In fact, I haven’t been able to really find Fell at all this week. He normally is at the very least in the study reading but he has not been there at all. Master, did something happen?” Papyrus sighed and caressed Stretch’s head with the care one would their most treasured possession, smiling down at the skeleton with barely visible fangs. A soft kiss was pressed against Stretch’s forehead then to his teeth, the hand that was petting the top of his skull now rested along the back of his neck. “I’ll look into it. For now, anytime you had scheduled with Fell is considered free time for yourself, understood?” Though the command held no true power behind it, Stretch still complied without hesitation. Free time was something he was not often granted, between the two vampires his time was normally very pleasantly occupied, which is why Fell’s sudden disappearance was a bit worrisome to him. It was actually a bit uncomfortable for him not to feel the ornery vampire’s presence in his large home, especially since Papyrus was very keen to keep his own well controlled and hidden. Fell was always flaunting his presence. He always made sure Stretch knew he was coming, whether Stretch wanted to deal with him at the current moment or not. Now, without that constant feeling of pride wafting in the air, Stretch felt a bit isolated. Having nothing else of interest to do with his time, Stretch decided that the best thing for him to do would be to wander around the manor in hopes of possibly finding the grumpy vampire so he at the very least knew he was alive. “Of course he’s alive...Papyrus wouldn’t be so calm if he wasn’t.” Stretch grumbled and sighed as he roamed through the vast halls, circling back to the foyer of the manor just in time for the door to slam open with far more force than a normal monster could muster. Stretch felt his soul jump as the heavy aura hit him, starting first with fear and leading into the strange form of excitement he felt whenever in the vampires’ presence. The young pet couldn’t help but smile at the vampire entering the manor, each purposeful step echoing loudly against the marble floors. “Master Fell!” It was strange for him to express such enthusiasm at seeing Fell but after having worried that he was gone, it just felt right. Until Fell looked up from his determined path. Deep, black sockets were narrowed at the pet, teeth pulled back into a snarl as he paused mid stride. Stretch scanned over the vampire’s body, noticing the blood splattered up his right side and remembering the different lessons that Papyrus and Fell had both given him about the presence of blood and what it can do to a vampire. His bare feet pattered loudly against the flooring as he hurried down the large flight of stairs, skipping the last few steps by jumping down. Dried blood was not as tantalizing to a vampire as fresh, dripping blood was and it would not be the first time that Stretch sacrificed the cleanliness of his own clothes to ensure the sanity of his masters. As he reached his hands out to grab hold of Fell’s Stretch felt the wind get knocked out of him, his tailbone hitting the stone floor with a harsh clack as he bounced. Fell didn’t hit him, even during their sessions the vampire was never physically abusive, this was the first time he in any way, shape, or form had remotely laid a violent hand on Stretch, and it wasn’t even a hand. It was a pulse of magic, a warning. “Maste-” “You will stay away from me.” He growled lowly, his eyes focused on Stretch’s down form. Fear began to crawl over Stretch’s bones, this...this wasn’t Fell. “Is that clear?” “Fell.” Both heads shot up to the top of the foyer, Papyrus staring down at the scene with a blank, unreadable expression. Stretch flicked his head between the two of them, hyperventilating as he tried to calm himself but also figure out what in the hell was going on. The eldest vampire jumped over the stairway railing and landed quietly behind Stretch, immediately cradling the pet in his arms. Papyrus’ presence had an instant effect on Fell, the violent pulses his magic was sending out dying down almost as quickly as they had started “Master.” “Stretch will remain away from you, and you are not to lash out again.” Papyrus’ eyes flashed as a show of power, a challenge to test his authority “Are WE clear?” Fell narrowed his eyes, not necessarily at Papyrus or Stretch but just to narrow them. He turned on his heels and walked up the stairs. The master vampire’s voice called out one last time, his patience for the situation still holding strong but forcing the much needed command into his voice. Fell looked back, the anger having melted away into something Stretch had never seen on Fell before. “Transparently, Master Papyrus.” Stretch waited until Fell was behind one, make that two, closed doors before turning in Papyrus’ hold and looking up at the still flared sockets of the normally gentle master. “Why does he look scared?” Papyrus sighed, “That...is not for me to discuss, Pet.” Despite the hit to his tailbone Stretch knew he was more than capable of walking himself, though he did enjoy the warmth of Papyrus’ arms wrapped around him “It would be wise to heed my words, Stretch. Until I address Fell’s behaviour it is in your best interest to stay away from him.” Even though Stretch found himself nodding his head, he couldn’t get that look on Fell’s face out of his head. He had never seen the prideful vampire so absolutely defeated before, even if it was only for the briefest of moments, Stretch knew what he saw. And that alone was enough for him to know that he couldn’t just let this go, whether it meant going against Papyrus’ orders or not. ~o~ Papyrus had spent much of the rest of the night pampering Stretch to keep him distracted. It was one of the rare times that the master was actually there for the entire night, and he after so much time focusing on his pet, Papyrus knew he had to focus on Fell. Though he understood fully where Fell was coming from, a violent action, warning or not, was not going to be tolerated under his rule. He couldn’t allow leniency such as that, it was not worth the risk. The door to Fell’s room was locked, unshockingly, but Papyrus decided to still respect his thrall and knocked lightly. There was a quiet shift of blankets as the lock clicked open. The door was opened and closed quickly. “Is there something you wanted, Master?” Fell asked, his voice holding barely any volume to it. Papyrus frowned slightly, Fell wouldn’t look at him, instead stayed curled in the bed staring out the open window. He took the few long strides that were necessary to reach Fell’s bed, sitting on the opposite side where his back was facing. His hand rested on Fell’s shoulder, “You know when the sun comes up you’re going to wish that window was closed.” It was a soft attempt at breaking the ice, not nearly as successful since Fell barely made much of a shrug. A sigh filled the room, “I understand this is hard, Fell. Truly, I do; however, you can not attack Stretch for your problems. He doesn’t know what’s going on, he isn’t to blame.” Fell scoffed but didn’t move away from Papyrus’ caressing touch. The thrall didn’t feel like defending or justifying his actions nor did he wish to be reasoned or bargained with. In truth, he was conflicted but that was neither Papyrus’ worry nor problem. He had gotten through this feeling one hundred eighty two times before, what difference did one more year make? “Why is he still here?” Fell asked after many minutes of silence. Papyrus turned his head to face Fell’s, genuinely confused by the question. “Stretch. Why is he still here?” The elder vampire straightened his posture for a moment, a thought on the tip of his tongue kept in check only by the fragility of the situation. His hand continued to caress Fell’s arm as he answered, “Why wouldn’t he be here, dear one? Why would we leave him after all this time?” Fell gave a half-hearted shrug and sighed, moving a little closer to Papyrus while trying to keep the motion more or less hidden. They had addressed this worry before, of Fell’s insecurities about his actual importance to Papyrus, but the master knew it was more than that, given the time of year it was much more than that. “Is this really about Stretch, Fell?” A soft, but sharp intake of breath slipped between his teeth, “You know the answer to that.” His master nodded, despite Fell not being able to see him. “Perhaps, but I believe the real question here is, do you?” A gentle kiss was placed on Fell’s skull, the weight of Papyrus lifting from the bed and he slowly began to make his way back to the door “It would be best if you thought on that Fell. While I do sympathize, I feel you’re missing the bigger picture in your grief and that pet may very well be able to help you see it.” Fell made no comment, or motion to move and acknowledge Papyrus’ words or exit. He simply laid there in fake peace, gazing out the window. There was nothing more Papyrus could do for him right now but wish him good night and hope to handle the situation better in the morning. The door and lock clicked softly behind the vampire. Fell pressed further into his bed, the softer whispers of his own good night wish to his Master the last thing he heard before succumbing to the pull of his own exhaustion. Papyrus waited at the door for a moment, just to ensure Fell did not let loose any wayward anger that could have been lingering. Once sure that his thrall would be silent, at the very least for now, he returned to his room. Deliberately slow steps were taken as he had the feeling that his conversation with Fell was not as private as it was intended to be. Phalanges gripped the bridge of his nasal cavity, sighing deeply as the realization that each of his pets were becoming incredibly bold in their disobedience. His door opened slowly, letting Stretch jump in panic as he appeared. “I see someone is awake now.” Papyrus said with his normal, calm tone. Stretch blushed lightly and nodded, his bare bones hidden beneath the large blankets “How did you sleep, my dear?” “G-good, Master.” A smile played across Papyrus’ teeth, there was no reason for Stretch to be this nervous. Nerves like these were meant for those that were guilty of something. Something like not doing what they’re told and almost being caught. Still, Papyrus allowed the pet to think he was in the clear, if only to see what all he might have heard. “That is excellent to hear. Tell me, pet, did you dream?” Papyrus crawled easily into the bed, taking his place behind Stretch and wrapping his arms around his bare frame. “I...I may have, but I don’t, um, quite remember if I did.” Papyrus hummed at the response, pressing soft kisses to the bite marks he had left earlier. Even simple touches like that made Stretch jolt and keen, the excitement from their previous session still lingering in the pet’s bones. Another kiss and a soft nip was placed on the other side of Stretch’s neck, hands resting on top of his iliac crests. He could feel that all his pet wished to do was help, despite it being against Papyrus’ orders, and he knew Fell would need just that to get through this anniversary. Perhaps, just this one time, he would ignore the disobedience. At least to some extent. The needy purrs from his pet brought a smile to his face, but as much as he wished to continue their play. There was still far too much on his mind at the moment. Fell was complacent now but that didn’t mean he would remain that way, especially not as the day drew near. And Stretch, the sweet thing that he was, with no knowledge of the incident still wished to help despite his aversion to the skeleton vampire. “You, my pet, are something else.” Another kiss was placed against Stretch’s temple before Papyrus settled into the bed, holding him against him. “Master?” “Forgive me, Stretch. I would much rather just lay here with you for right now.” Stretch shifted around in Papyrus’ hold so he could face the vampire while he cuddled closer to him. Seizing the opportunity, Stretch pressed a kiss to the top of Papyrus’ barely visible sternum, “Of course, I would actually enjoy that as well.” It didn’t take very long for the monster to doze off, leaving Papyrus awake in with his thoughts as he gently smoothed his hands over the bones that made of his pets spine. Yes, he would allow the interaction, supervise from the shadows to ensure Stretch nor Fell was harmed, and hope that after so many years closure might finally lay a gentle hand over Fell’s soul. ~o~ It was no surprise to Stretch when he awoke alone, Papyrus was always out of bed long before he woke up. Sometimes the master would be reading in his chair or standing in the room looking out the window with a cup of tea in hand, humming quietly to himself; however, he did neither of those things this morning. The room was barren of sound and he could barely feel the magical pressure the master vampire emitted when he was close. The best Stretch could tell was that Papyrus was still in the manor...somewhere. Stretch removed the blankets as he got out of bed, setting them aside to be washed later. His own clothes were placed neatly on the nightstand by the window, folded and fresh, definitely not the outfit he had been wearing the night before. Stretch chuckled to himself about the quality of the fabrics they were made of, tailor made for comfort out of some of the most expensive satin and silk. An outfit like this was one Stretch would wear if he were to spend the day with one of the vampires, but since it was a free day for the pet he wasn’t sure whether he should wear it. What was the point of dirtying something if there was a high chance he wouldn’t do anything except lounge around all day? “Unless…” An idea popped into his head, not a good one because he was told strictly not to, but an idea nonetheless. It was Fell’s day after all and if intimacy was out of the question with the skeleton then there was always something else he could try. However finding Fell was proving to be more of a challenge. Stretch roamed the manor at least three full times and still he couldn’t find the vampire anywhere. Next on his list was the courtyard, the groves in particular. There were times he would find Fell relaxing either at the base of the trees or laying on a low branch, reading or talking with Papyrus about memories from long before Stretch was with them. They always stopped when he approached and it always bothered him a little, like he wasn’t important enough to be let in on the early workings of their relationship. Of course, he knew that wasn’t true, but a feelings a feeling and it doesn’t always fall into the accurate category when monsters were involved. The grove was always a pleasant place, the winds blew tiny white flowers from the trees that bloomed and made it look like it was snowing only with nice weather instead of the bone biting cold. Stretch always enjoyed when they took him out here, and as he walked he could hear the soft pops of magic constructing itself only to deconstruct seconds later. He slowed his approach enough to still be heard but not be seen as a threat, spotting his quarry leaning against a tree while throwing bones at the wall that circled the edge of the grove. “Fell?” he called out, feeling suddenly hesitant. The vampire didn’t even bother looking up from whatever spot he had fixated his glare on. “You are supposed to be away from me.” Stretch sighed and scratched his head, looking away from the thrall “I know, but I...well to be honest I couldn’t.” Fell rolled his eyes, summoning another bone at tossing it lamely at the wall “I’m not used to free time, and I would rather just get my days done as they’re supposed to be.” Still Fell gave him little acknowledgement which lead to the pet taking a slightly riskier approach. “If it makes anything better, I forgive you for yesterday. I know you were probably-” “YOU forgive me? Is that so?” Red eyes turned to him now, flared wisps of magic sparking over his sockets “Do you honestly believe that something as simple as YOUR forgiveness would make ANYTHING better right now?!” Stretch barely felt the grip on his soul before he was pulled directly in front of Fell. He felt the fear again but did his best to keep it hidden. The pet kept his hands visible and raised so Fell knew he wasn’t threatening him in any way. His eyes held onto Fell’s gaze, searching for anything that would give him some kind of hint to what the hell was actually wrong. “I don’t know, I thought-” The grip over his soul was released and Stretch stumbled back away from Fell. The anger in his eyes seemed to die down a little but was still very present. “That’s exactly the point. You don’t know and you’re not going to.” “But what if I can help? That is why Papyrus keeps me isn’t it? So I can help you both?” Fell was walking away from him at this point. Each step he took felt like a stab to Stretch. Was he not a good pet? Was Fell bored of him already? If he hadn’t performed adequately than why did Papyrus both to keep him around? The skeleton cursed under his breath, his plan had backfired. Sure, he planned on Fell getting angry with him but he had expected an explosion of insults and reasons as to why Fell didn’t want him near but instead it was just more confusingly vague words and questions about himself that made him wonder if he was kept out of want or pity. Stretch waited a good while before returning to the manor. He wasn’t exactly ready to give up on finding out why Fell was so reclusive but he was already pushing his limits. Papyrus had never given him a reason to doubt his importance to the two vampires but between the secrets and isolation he was beginning to wonder. As if feeling his sorrow, Papyrus walked out from the shadows of the study, extended an arm out for Stretch to take if he so chose to. “Master, please be honest, have I not been good for you and Fell?” It hurt to ask, but he had to know. He had to know that Fell wasn’t like this because of him. Papyrus laid a hand gently over his cheek, stroking his thumb under Stretch’s socket. “Of course you have, why would you assume otherwise?” The master spoke with the soft smile his face often neutrally had, eyes creased slightly in worry. Stretch huffed, taking a step away from his master to really look at him “Then please, tell me what is going on? Why am I not to be near Fell and why is he being more of an asshole than usual?” “Language, Stretch. I told you, what is wrong with Fell is not for me to discuss.” The pet sighed in frustration but remembered that while Papyrus was being an obstruction now, this truly wasn’t his fault. He might have been withholding information but Stretch knew it was purely out of respect for Fell’s privacy, no matter how much it was irritating him. Papyrus asked if he understood why he couldn’t talk to Stretch about this and he received a shrug as a response. Stretch turned to the door and left, leaving Papyrus to stand there alone. Normally he would be required to bow or wait until his dismissal is allowed, but rules just weren’t something he was strongly caring about right now. All he cared about was getting to the bottom of all of this. Thoughts of how to handle the situation consumed him as he walked down the halls, no longer worrying about the consequences he was bound to face. Feet stopped at the closed door before him, the dull light from the sun shining out from beneath the door. Stretch grabbed hold of the handle and turned, surprised to find it unlocked, and entered the room. Fell turned quickly to look at the bold pet that stood at his doorway, his eyes shifting from shocked to angry before Stretch could even really register that he was in the thrall’s room. His curtains were opened so Fell could look out without the irritation of the sun bothering him, but right now the only thing Stretch should have been focusing on was the extremely pissed off vampire that he was in the sights of. “I used to joke that you were daft, but if you’re honestly in here then you truly must be.” Fell growled, his voice an octave or two lower than Stretch had ever heard before. “I will give you five seconds to get out.” Stretch looked at each of the constructs that had spawned around Fell’s body, bracing himself against the door but not motioning to leave. Each second was counted with the launching of one of the bones, and Stretch flinched as one connected and shattered beside him but still kept his eyes locked with Fell’s. After the second he walked closer to the thrall. “Do you think I’m joking?! Papyrus be damned, I will end you if you do not leave!” Still Stretch moved forward, the extended hand that controlled the attacks trembling slightly before regaining its composure to throw another bone. “I-I’m not leaving, Fell!” the third bone zoomed passed and shattered against the wall. Stretch knew he was pushing his luck messing with Fell’s ire but he had to break through. The fourth bone teetered in the air, “Leave me alone!” and launched off target. Stretch saw fear and anger mixing in Fell’s red eyes, his pupils hazed and unfocused. The fifth bone wobbled in the air before falling to the floor and shattering just like the others and Stretch took the final step he needed to wrap his arms around Fell, pulling the thrall tightly against him. “I don’t..want you here…” Stretch scoffed into his collar, “That’s a lie.” Fell’s body twitch against his and he hugged him tighter “I don’t know what I can do to make this better...hell there probably isn’t a damn thing in this world or the next that can but I’m not leaving Fell.” He felt Fell pull against him in an attempt to get away from the embrace but Stretch simply followed and continued to tell the vampire that he wasn’t going to leave. “Yes you will! Stop, just stop! Just leave me alone, damn it!” Hands grabbed hold of Stretch’s shoulders and wrenched him back, small droplets landing on his cheeks. Sockets stared wide as the tears gathered at the edges of Fell’s sockets, some falling while others threatened to “Just. Leave.” As odd as it was, Stretch didn’t feel like Fell was talking to him. Sure he was looking at him as he spoke, holding onto his shoulders with the strength a child might a toy, but the words did not feel directed at him. They barely felt directed to him. Because they both knew they weren’t for him. And something about that made the pet feel a bit more empowered. Like he wasn’t disregarding an order, not that he hadn’t been doing that anyway, or disrespecting one of his masters. Stretch felt like he was finally doing what he always felt his purpose here was, helping the vampires through all of their needs, not just the physical ones. So, with renewed confidence, Stretch lifted his hand and wiped the tears from the angered monster’s sockets, his index finger tracing the upper curve of his sharp cheekbones and following down to Fell’s neck. When the vampire made no effort to step away, Stretch wrapped his arms tightly around his neck in another hug. It was...hard to see someone who wore pride and confidence like an everyday outfit be broken down the way Fell had. Especially as Stretch felt the jolt of silent sobs rack through his body or the slight dampness of the tears that fell from his eyes. He felt the sharp ends of Fell’s phalanges shakily grab hold of him, digging into his back as he held onto Stretch tightly and crumbling to the floor. The pet had no qualms with being taken to the floor, immediately seating himself between Fell’s knees. He could hear the whispers of apologies against his skull, though he knew they weren’t meant for him, it brought a smile to his face. Stretch whispered words of reassurance back, reminders that he had no plans on leaving and was staying so long as Papyrus allowed him to. It wasn’t exactly what Fell wanted to hear, if the tightening of his hug meant anything, but it was enough to set the thrall’s mind at some semblance of ease. “I’m sorry…” he whispered again. Stretch caressed the back of his skull wanting to shush him but also not sure how it would be taken in his current state of mind. “I’m sorry…” The words were repeated again and again until Stretch felt himself worrying that Fell might not be as okay as he thought, but the soft sound of footsteps behind him that yet again, those apologies were not to him. “Papyrus…” The master vampire shushed him as he approached the scene, kneeling beside them with a hand on each of their shoulders. Fell moved away from Stretch just enough to look at Papyrus, more tears forming in his eyes despite how hard he was fighting them. The master shushed Fell when he tried to speak again, pulling both him and Stretch into a strong, protective embrace. A kiss was placed on both their heads, the arms around their bodies pulling them against Papyrus as he moved them to a more seated position with his back against one of Fell’s dressers so they could be better situated against him. They stayed like that for a while, just in the comfort of each other’s presence, a protective pulse of magic every so often to remind them all that they were both safe and loved. Stretch snuggled against Papyrus’ broad shoulder and took in the calm moment since he knew there was a good chance that something like this wasn’t going to happen again soon, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He would take an aggravated or grumpy Fell over an emotionally stunted one any day. “This is nice.” Stretch slurred, the relaxing position making him a bit drowsy now that his nerves had calmed. He heard what he figured was Fell humming in agreement and Papyrus chuckling shortly after. A hand grabbed hold of his chin and lifted his head up enough for the master vampire to press a heated kiss to his teeth, instantly taking control and pulling the same needy sounds he had from the night before. The pet gave out a whimper when Papyrus pulled away. Papyrus moved the hand from Stretch’s chin to the hem of his shirt, moving it up enough for his hand to slide beneath it and squeeze Stretch’s spine, “This may seem inappropriate but if it would please you Fell, I’m sure Stretch would not mind attending to his duties today.” As the master spoke, he moved his hands up and down the heated bones of his spine. Stretch looked at Fell, eyes not quite focused enough for him to see the shocked look gracing Fell’s face. Papyrus asked again if that was something Fell wanted, reminded the thrall that he was being spoken too. His hand rose to caress the side of Stretch’s face, eyes narrowing as he thought of the words he wanted to say. “Actually, I would like that.” he answered in a raspy tone “Would you be against us being alone, Master?” Papyrus was quick on his answer. He knew Stretch was safe from Fell’s emotions and Fell himself seemed to be much better as well. He could trust the two together, though he would stay close just in case. The pet was directed to the bed by Papyrus and a kiss was given to Fell before he left the two alone in the room. Fell dragged a hand over his face, knowing what he needed to do but not wanting to in the slightest. Stretch called out to him quietly. His face was flushed its golden orange and soft wisps of magic dance from his eyes. Fell made a noise of acknowledgement and began closing the curtains in his room, talking as he did so. He started with a question he knew the answer to, “Do you know what today is?” Stretch shook his head, watching Fell’s fluid movements as he crossed the room one last time to stop in front of him. The next question had some heaviness to it and Stretch wasn’t sure how to answer. “Do you have a family? Or someone other than Papyrus or myself that you care for?” “I...well…” Sharp phalanges tapped his skull and interrupted his train of thought. “Don’t answer that, I know it was not the best of situations.” Stretch was more than happy to oblige “I...had a family. Before Papyrus that is.” Fingertips dragged along his exposed vertebrae sending shivers through Stretch’s body. Fell took a moment to collect himself before taking a deep breath and continuing. He knew he owed it to Stretch, he did threaten to kill him and almost act on it after all. He just...didn’t know how. He felt the cheek of his pet rubbed against his hand, “If it, um, is too hard you don’t have to tell me Fell. I know a lot has happened between you and Papyrus before I came.” Fell chuckled a bit, pressing a hand to his mouth to conceal the sound as a cough. Stretch was reassured that this was for the better of both of them and Fell moved onto the bed, pulling Stretch against him with his head resting on his shoulder so every word Fell said sent a rumble against his bones. “I should have been able to stop it, but the bastards were cowards.” His hands rested on Stretch’s femurs as he spoke, his grip tightening and loosening with each word for emphasis “They hid...waited until I was coming home and ambushed me. I was beaten into submission and dragged inside.” He paused for a moment, sliding his hands up Stretch’s legs until he felt the smooth planes of his pelvis, enjoying the slight jump he received from the pet. Fell could hear the words Stretch was trying to say, the sympathizing feelings he tried to share, but the thrall was more focused on keeping him in a listening state. It was easier for him to express that way. “When I came to, my wife and my brother were being dragged into the room. I could hear questions, questions my family didn’t know the answers too but they didn’t care. She was beaten senseless and there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening.” His voice quivered a bit “I can still hear her scream as she died.” Stretch gasped and whimpered, partially from what Fell had just told him and from his sharp fingers digging into his pelvis, not enough to actually hurt but enough for get a reaction. After a few moments Fell spoke of how he tried to fight them off again. The feeling of a boot against his cracked socket sending him reeling to the floor as others set in against his brother. Stretch moved his hands to Fell’s legs to not only ground himself at his own feelings but to offer some comfort to Fell as well. He knew this was hell for him, but it made him feel so much closer to the thrall. He might not know everything there was about his masters but this alone was a huge deal, and the fact that Fell shared it with him without Papyrus present pushed all of the worries he had early to the darkest crevices of his mind. “The last thing I remember before passing out was the start of my brother’s screams. I could feel my body being moved by the mercenaries but there was nothing I could do to stop them. I was beaten again and left out for the elements to finish me off before Papyrus found me.” Fell hummed against Stretch’s neck as he finished talking. It felt relieving that his pet knew this about him. Instead of the dread he had been feeling it was like a burden was lifted from his shoulders. While the pain of his failure still lingered and he bore a scar as proof, having another as close as Stretch had become know the truth was just...liberating. The thrall felt his pet shift between his legs, moving a hand off Fell’s leg and placing it against his cheek and pushing their faces together for a soft kiss. Golden orange timidly flicked against Fell’s teeth, making the thrall chuckle as he returned the kiss in a surprisingly gentle fashion. Stretch smiled as they moved apart, “I know sorry doesn’t do anything for the past, but you have Master Papyrus and I now.” Fell smiled at the statement, kissing Stretch again before resting his head down on the pet’s shoulder once more. He was content like this, cuddled against Stretch and letting the day tick away. It was far better than moping around the manor or lashing out at anyone that came close to him, of that he was sure. “If I can request...would it be okay to just lay here with you? I feel like both of us could use it.” Fell straightened up at the request. It wasn’t too unusual for Stretch to ask for things but they were usually a lot the lines of begging while they were enjoying far more intimate actions, but simply laying down did sound kind of nice. So instead of answering Stretch’s request Fell wrapped his arms around the skeleton and pulled him until they were at the head of the bed, settling on down on the series of plush pillows with a sigh. Stretch laughed to himself, it was twice now that he had denied, or been denied, his own possible pleasure to simply lay with the vampires in a comforting embrace. But there was one thing that Stretch’s curiosity would just not leave alone. “Fell, what did you end up doing to the men that hurt you?” The thrall sighed, or growled, the sound was a bit hard to decipher “I did nothing. I don’t know what happened to them but none of that matters now. I am alive and they’re not.” Stretch wanted to ask about more. Why he didn’t go after them, if he did go after them how come he couldn’t find them, but instead he just made a small noise of agreement and turned to face Fell as they laid down, placing a small kiss against his sternum just as he did Papyrus the night before and cuddling as close to the vampire as he was allowed. Fell tightened his arms around Stretch and leaned his head back. Today was needed, no matter how much he fussed about it to himself or out loud, it was needed. The memories, while still there, were lighter now and whether Fell wanted to admit it or not, Papyrus was right. Stretch had been the main helping force behind all of this. Fell denied wanting his presence, denied his important, and all it did was delay the inevitable truth. The thrall was no longer alone and hadn’t been for a long time, it just took Stretch’s persistence and blatant stubbornness to break through the wall Papyrus respectfully walked around. “I suppose Papyrus was right,” he purred against Stretch’s dozing skull, letting his sharp fingertips scratch gently at the bones “I suppose you truly are something else…”
10357899	from a dreamers sleep	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Josh Dun, Tyler Joseph", "Fandom": "Twenty One Pilots", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by if_my_words_were_art", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-18T00:00:00", "words": "1,529", "Additional Tags": "Wet Dream, Horny Teenagers, Anal Fingering, I feel shame, Gay, its so gay, trust me its gay, Merp, Friends to Lovers, Just Friends, Best buds", "Relationship": "Josh Dun/Tyler Joseph", "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 }	Tyler heard a cat. Not any cat, however. It was a bubblegum cat with wide brown eyes and pale skin. Not much of a cat at all, really. More of a teenage boy...But at first Tyler was sure it was a cat. The softest whimper, a slight hiss. Tyler, rolling slightly in his sheets, convinced his mind that that was the source of the sounds.With another pouting noise Tyler was distraught at the sound. He raised himself off the bed, cocked his head to look at the bed across the room, where rustling was happening. He was at his best friend, Josh's, house for the night. Sleepovers were frequent and consequently the guest room in the house hosted two beds for these occasions. Tyler could make out through the pale moonlight Josh's galaxy blanket and the hump were his back was underneath it. A slender curve was where his neck melted into his soft, pink curls and red cheeks. Tyler giggled when he squinted and observed Josh had his mouth slightly open, a sliver of drool streaming out. His giggles ceased, however, when he noticed what Josh's form was doing. His butt --Tyler guessed, not that he stared or anything-- was moving rhythmically up and down, subconsciously humping the bed sheets.Tyler turned red. Josh was having a wet dream.With this realization came panic and decisiveness on Tyler's part. Should he wake him up? Go back to bed? Watch...?No, he scolded himself, God, I can't just watch him. That's... weird. But, I mean....His thoughts were interrupted by a pillow-muffled moan. A problem was growing with each breathy exhale and Tyler was getting more and more confused.Then a loud groan resulted in, to Tyler's dismay, Josh's eyes popping open. Josh blinked and rubbed his hair, looking around. Tyler remained still, frozen in a sitting position on his cot."Hey," Josh croaked, attempting to casually bunch up the blankets near his groan area."H-hey," Tyler responded back, looking away."Did, did... uh, did I...?""Yeah, kinda," Tyler breathed with slight amusement."Oh."Silence."I'll just," Josh muttered, swinging his feet from beneath the covers. He wrapped his arms around his tent and shuffles off to the bathroom courtesly provided with the guest room.Tyler didn't understand why his heart was beating so fast. Or why he was rising, following the trail of muffled sounds from his bed to the bathroom. He was perplexed as to why he knocked lightly on the door and huskily asked, "Do you need any help?" He didn't understand why he was doing what he did, but he knew that somehow it was good in a wrong way."T-Tyler," Josh said from the other side. "You can't--""We're both guys, right? So, I mean, I can help. It's not weird. We're just friends.""...Tyler, it's not right.""Friends help friends out, right?" he asked with determination, though his voice shook."Okay."That was the only word that Tyler needed to turn the cold knob and step into the small, minty bathroom. Josh was spread on the sink, turned so his legs would stretch and his feet would rest on the toilet next to it. A hand was nervously toying with his sweatband strings, the other holding a wrinkled nudie mag.Tyler rubbed his clammy palms against his sides before kneeling on the toilet top, carefully moving between Josh's legs. Josh was breathing in shaky breaths and gripping onto the magazine with an anxious strength."Okay, ah," Tyler started, staring Josh in the eyes, "I'm not going to force you into anything, so if you need a breather, that's okay. And, uh, I'm just here to, ya know, help? So..."Josh was nodding his head slowly, visibly relaxing. Tyler took this opportunity to reach out and carefully pull his pants down to his knees. He wanted to laugh at the aliens dotting his undergarment, but he was too busy sucking hickeys on his thighs. Josh had an immediate sharp intake of breath."Tyler, tyler," he breathed quietly."Yes?" Tyler said between kisses."I-- I don't know what to do with my hands?" Josh said, covering his face."Huh?""I, I know it sounds stupid but what am I supposed to do? Where do I put my hands, where do I turn my face? I'm really, I just. I don't know...""Hey, hey," Tyler said lightly. "It's okay. Just relax. I'm not here to judge you."Josh decided his fingers should fist at his shirt, and Tyler couldn't help but noticed he looked adorably hot with his tiny fists stretching shirt material out as he moaned. Kisses trailed up to a slender curve where fabric restricted his view, do Tyler pulled down at the underwear and blushed profusely at the sight.Josh was redder, covering his face and turning away. "Don't look, don't look!""But, Joshie," he began."No! Could, could you turn out the lights? Please? I just..."Without another word, Tyler flipped the switch. To his surprise, a dim glow was emitted from the neon aliens of Josh's underwear, allowing enough light to see what he was doing.Tyler was intimidated. It's not like he had frequent experience in this kind of case. What if he messed up?Any doubts he had were erased when Josh merely moaned at Tyler's heated breath grazing his erection. His fingers wrapped around the base simultaneously as his lips did. It was hot, white-hot, the heat of Tyler's mouth. The friction alone was killing Josh. With a bobbing motion, Josh was having a hard time thinking about anything other than the tiny bursts of electricity emitted by the tight, warm, liquidy gift of Tyler.He lost when Tyler's tongued swirled daringly. He was shaking, practically screaming at this. With every breath he felt glitter ooze out of his veins.Now, at this point, Tyler was hard, understandably. But he didn't know what to do to have his problem solved. Forcing Josh was a terrible idea, but the thought of jerking off alone seemed equally as dismal."T-Tyler," Josh sighed after a few shaky intakes. "H-Help?""Please, yes," Tyler practically cried.Josh could barely make out Tyler's figure in the pulsating light, but the desperation lacing his voice gave an unmeasurable amount of reassurance. Josh turned to his right, swinging his legs off of the sink. His hands were searching for Tyler, presumably still kneeling on the toilet top. Josh found a burning knee and heard Tyler breathe in."Joshie, Joshie," he started when Josh began to kneel on the ground, "The lights? Please?"Josh hesitated, but turned on the lights. In an instant he was glad he agreed, because Tyler had already slipped his boxers down his golden thighs and his head was stretching back with pink cheeks and a permanent O on his lips."You're so beautiful," Tyler commented when peeked at Josh. "You're like a dream."Josh was blushing, feeling slightly aroused again at the praise."What-- what do I...?""Just, just," Tyler tried to speak, stuttering when Josh unintentionally began rubbing circles into his hot flesh. "Just, ah, could you...?" His head dipped with shame."What?" Josh asked with concern. Tyler was growing very ashamed and embarrassed, slightly knocking his knees together and tugging his ears nervously. "S'okay, nothing is bad or anything.""I," Tyler whispered quietly, "I like getting, uh, fingered. Like, agh..."He began to choke on his words and start pulling up his underwear before Josh stopped him."S'okay! All's fine. Just, I haven't done this before so..."Tyler was looking anywhere but at Josh, nodding quietly. Josh took this opportunity to start, kissing Tyler's thighs and trailing to his entrance. He started licking, sucking, trying so desperately to please Tyler who started moaning happily. After some time, Tyler was getting antsy and pleaded, "Joshie, I beg of you, do something."With this confirmation, Josh sucked his fingers and coated them in saliva, prodding at Tyler and almost jumping back when Tyler eagerly sunk down on one. He started pushing in and out slowly, watching as Tyler nearly cried at the pleasure. He started moving with speed and observed with glee as Tyler started getting more frazzled, squeezing his eyes shut and tugging at his own hair and knocking his head back with spasmic responses. Josh grew confident as Tyler started growing louder with his vocalizations, starting to twist and turn his fingers inside Tyler. After a moment, he must have done something right, he reasoned, as Tyler came with sticky ropes, screaming if he hadn't covered his own mouth with a hand.The two took a moment to breathe, Josh trying to sort out what happened, Tyler doing the same."I'm tired," Josh said after a moment, his adrenaline high crashing. Tyler's eye lids started weighing down."S-same."They agreed to clean the bathroom later, trying now to successfully get back in their beds without collapsing halfway."Tyler," Josh said sleepily, pulling up his blankets. "This doesn't make us gay, right?""Course not," Tyler said immediately. "Just makes us really good friends. Best buds.""Okay. Good." They both started drifting off, Josh mumbling, "Best buds," as he slept.
10325981	My pretty fair maid	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Tenshouin Eichi, Aoba Tsumugi", "Fandom": "Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by mofumanju", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-16T00:00:00", "words": "965", "Additional Tags": "maid dresses, Crossdressing?, eichi being a little brat", "Relationship": "Aoba Tsumugi/Tenshouin Eichi", "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 }	“Are you sure you want my help? I don’t think I’m that necessary…” “Of course I do,” and Eichi smiles behind the cup of tea he’s holding on his hands, the sweet scent of lavender brushing against the tip of his nose. “You are a tailor after all, I’m sure there’s some sense of fashion on you.” It’s endearing, that pink warmth spreading on Tsumugi’s cheeks, and although he’s not playing around with him now, Eichi sure finds a bit of pleasure on the sight. Well, Tsumugi is always a beautiful sight, after all. “T-Thank you, Eichi-kun. If you put it this way then… I’ll gladly lend you a hand.” They both giggle, children without any worry in the world. Eichi wishes it would always be like that. “You really like this concept, don’t you? Angels and all.” “Mh. It fits my purpose, I guess,” and after all, white just makes the blood of his enemies stand out, it makes it all more regal. But he doesn’t need to speak his mind to Tsumugi, after all, not now. “We are God’s messengers, after all.” The floor of Eichi’s room is filled with clothes, a heap of whites and dark blues creating shades next to what Eichi likes to think are those of a faraway, longing Heaven. Tsumugi takes a jacket on his hands, trying it, looking at his reflection on the mirror, and Eichi smiles softly, because really, he could just pick a random outfit and he is sure it would perfectly fall on him. “God’s messengers, huh…” It’s cute, how Tsumugi seems distracted by the whole dressing up thing to take really care of the words he’s pronouncing, but well, Eichi is sure that even if God doesn’t really exist - not for him, at least - some high force must have heard him because now there is pitch black fabric on his pale fingers, something he didn’t think he owned at all and that surely doesn’t fit the quest to find the right outfit for their next event. He smiles, taking the dress on his hands and silently stepping towards Tsumugi, and in a moment there’s that wonderful pink again, staining his cheeks and making him a bit flustered. “You should try this.” “E-Eichi-kun, I don’t think it would fit me well. Also, I am not sure Hiyori-kun and-” “Who cares about them now. I want to see you wearing this. Mh? Just for me?” Angels, huh. They really are nothing like him, especially when he loves to tease Tsumugi so, so much. He leaves a soft kiss on his cheek, skin burning against his lips, and Tsumugi just whimpers, lowering his head to look at the maid dress covering him body, the apron bending weirdly from the hanger. When he nods, Eichi knows he’s holding victory on the palm of his hand. “See? It suits you perfectly, just like if it was sewn just for you.” He’s having fun, he admits to himself - it’s hard to hide a smile that keeps claiming its space on his lips, when Tsumugi leaves the restroom to show himself in front of Eichi with that lovely dress. Oh, he should just keep him in his house, let him serve tea forever, and compliment him with the sweetest words just to see him fluster like the cute maid he could be, if he only wished. “Am I not… weird in this?” Tsumugi says, opening his arms, and well, maybe some points are stretching a bit on his sides - he is not a girl, after all, there are no curves to fill those empty space, and he’s way too large on other parts of his body, but it’s not bad as Tsumugi wants to depict it, and Eichi is well intended to make him understand it. He takes his hand in a silent invitation to turn around, the skirt puffing out for a moment before it falls again on Tsumugi’s legs. “No? You’re absolutely beautiful.” and he’s serious, however the smile on his face could deliver a different truth. And he knows that Tsumugi believes him - he always does - when his eyes lower in embarrassment and Eichi feels that’s the right moment to attack him, and fuel his own desires. “Stunning. You’re so cute.” He places a kiss on Tsumugi’s cheek, the other one cupped on his hand,and it’s a nice feeling, the one that Aoba’s warm skin leave on his palm, burning him with a longing he should leave there, between his heart and the tip of his stomach. He bites his flesh softly, a taste of that sweet presence in his life, and when he lets it go he giggles, brushing the tip of his nose just where there’s the soft sign of his teeth, “It makes me want to eat you.” Tsumugi stutters, and he’s so cute that oh, Eichi would spend the rest of the evening tormenting him, teasing and touching just to see how far he can go before he finally finds the strength to tell him to stop being a child. But no, he can’t really do that, not when there are duties to fulfill and clothes to choose, so he just wraps his arms around Tsumugi’s waist and look at their reflection on the mirror, smiling like a cat, and looking like a hungry lion. “I-I-I’ll just go to change myself,” Tsumugi stutters, wiggling out of Eichi’s grasp and running out of the room before he can even say something, but it’s okay, he guesses, he has had enough fun for now, so it’s only fair for Tsumugi to have a break over his horrible self. He closes a hand next to his mouth, chucking a bit and going back to his wardrobe. Maybe he’ll find something else to make him wear.
10357044	Check All That Apply	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Tony Stark, Bruce Wayne", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by starkind", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "2017-03-23", "published": "2017-03-18T00:00:00", "words": "1,940", "Additional Tags": "Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Getting Together, First Kiss, Tony Being Tony, IronBat - Freeform, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Civil War Team Iron Man, Not The Dark Knight Rises Compliant, Post-The Dark Knight, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie)", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Tony Stark/Bruce Wayne, Tony Stark & Bruce Wayne, mentions of Pepper Potts/Tony Stark", "Series": "This Is It Boys, This Is War", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Iron Man (Movies), Batman (Movies - Nolan)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“... and then she said 'I think it's best if we end this on a level where we can still look each other in the eyes'. Isn't that something?”Tony drops the news casually one evening, up in his workshop at Stark Tower. He leaves out the part where she (namely Pepper Potts) also tells him it is because he's more emotionally invested in him than in her. 'Him' in this particular case is Bruce Wayne - billionaire extraordinaire from Gotham City - and also known, albeit to a less large audience, as the Dark Knight.In Tony's opinion, Batman's self-marketing strategy sucks balls, but Tony has long since given up trying to lecture him.So far, Bruce has managed to bring up all of his hometown against him for something he has not even done and refuses to set the record straight. That is partly the reason he has come to hang out in New York with Tony and his tech ever so often in the past months, even after the recent Ultron fiasco. Does that not sound like the perfect recipe for a love triangle disaster?Except... no, there is no triangle, especially not now that Pepper is gone, and with Tony fully convinced that he is not invested that way; not really. He and Wayne are just friends who hold frequent tech orgies, now that the 'other Bruce' left to God knows where.“Ah.”That is Bruce Wayne lingo for 'I am deeply sorry for your loss, feel free to talk about it some more.' By now, after months of intense studies and many trial and error excursions, Tony speaks 'Bruce Wayne' rather fluently. At present, however, he decides to not talk about it some more and makes his Gotham counterpart do some more research on his latest project called Binarily Augmented Retro Framing instead.“So, do you think I'm ready to throw myself out there on the market again, B-boy?”The look Wayne throws him over the rim of his screen could slice obsidian. Basically, Bruce abhors any bastardizations of his name, but the fact that it does not elicit anything but a toothy smile from Tony speaks volumes. His arsenal of awful endearments is as usual filled to the brim, and Bruce keeps getting subjected to it without any real counterstrike measures.Okay, not entirely true. The Gothamite compensates by displaying his superior athletic condition whenever they work out together (at least now that Tony has urged him to take care of that ruptured ACL of his) and by constantly leaving Tony's espresso machine without beans. All in all, it has become a lovely dysfunctional partnership that blossoms between the two of them.Here is where it is getting complicated, though.Ever since Pepper has broken up with him because of it, Tony has started looking closer into her theory. Has started looking a lot closer at Bruce Wayne, too, and sees... something more. Something he likes. More than likes, actually. That realization is downright irksome to him. That Pepper should remain right while he himself remains so, so clueless is both scary and a relief.Until...“After your latest Ultron stunt, you're not exactly public dating material.”Ho-hum.Apparently, Tony forgot to mention that Bruce Wayne can sometimes (okay, oftentimes) act like a real douche barrel.Still.It is then that Tony blows all caution to the wind and does The Thing.Maybe he should have given out a warning first, he thinks, but then again he is Tony Stark, and fuck playing it by the rules, because in the end he always gets what he wants.Cue phase one of Tony's new-found project 'Courting Bruce Wayne'.Their first kiss is more than awkward; mainly because Tony miscalculates the distance and angle to reach Bruce's mouth. What happens is that he ends up scraping his upper lip on those fangs of his. For all their pearly whiteness, they really are that sharp. As Tony backs away, hissing and cursing his stinging lip, Bruce scowls at him.“What the hell?!”The tip of Tony's tongue probes the cut and tastes a little blood.“Yeah, same. Are you part-vampire or something? Ouch!”The Gothamite still stares at him like he has sprouted a second head, and Tony attempts to shrug, feigning nonchalance.“Never mind, I was just testing.”“Testing what?”“Pepper's theory.”“... Ah.” Okay, maybe Tony needs to go back and re-read that page of his Bruce Wayne Dictionary again. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Phase two of 'Courting Bruce Wayne' basically consists of a lot of groveling talk on Tony's part.Except... no, that is not really what it is, because a Stark never grovels. He rather flaps his gums about how being bi is all kinds of rad, and that he cannot wait to get back into the dating scene.Somehow, the seemingly never-ending patience of Bruce does wear thin at some point, because:“Shut up.”Says he and seals Tony's mouth with a kiss that swooshes all air out of Tony's lungs.Jackpot!Before Tony gets on a train of thought that spins from choosing the right portmanteau (to which Bruce shoots him down, because 'Truce' is just as bad as 'Brony', and don't even start on anything as ridiculous as IronBat, for Heaven's sake) over to planning the billionaire wedding of the century, life happens. It has a tendency to strike and interrupt any brief bout of happiness Tony experiences.And that is how Bruce Wayne ends up being involved in the battle at Leipzig Airport.Technically, it is their first visit to Europe as a couple, but it is far from sightseeing and trying to read stupid-sounding German street signs. Instead, it is a face-off with Steve and his merry band of ragtag Accord holdouts, some of who Tony has never seen before. Verbal punches get thrown, and it goes up to the point where Tony deems the moment right to raise gauntleted hands to his mouth and call in his secret weapon.“Batsy.”He knows he is in deep shit for that one later on.Still, “Batsy” materializes out of nowhere; doing a marvelous job even without the ever-present shadows he usually lurks in.A Batarang lands square within Steve's shield; clue-in the Bat knows how to deal with Vibranium and what to do about it.All hell breaks loose soon after, leaving Batman to take on Captain America and giving zero fucks about him being from Brooklyn. It is nice that Tony gets to listen in on their gruff and awkward verbal exchange a little bit before he gets buried underneath a pile of cars, thanks to Wanda.What is far from being nice is that when push comes to shove, bad gets even worse.In the end, there are no real winners, only losers.Tony ends up with a lovely labral tear in his left shoulder, together with some trauma to the rotator cuff and pinched nerves to boot. His nerves remain on edge when Bruce's grumpier alter ego goes and makes himself scarce once they are back in the US. This is partly due to the fact that the Secretary of the State is cozying up to Tony Stark, but mostly because Bruce Wayne is still paranoid about being exposed as the Caped Crusader.Tony tries to understand but does not. He thought they had more than a good-till-canceled thing going on.His worry for Rhodey then overshadows anything else for the moment.Apparently, some things do have a different expiration date than Tony expects them to.After the big fight in the bunker, where Steve and his psycho buddy demonstrate a perfect two-against-one strategy, it is none other than Bruce Wayne who flies out all the way to Siberia to save Tony's life. Sadly, he cannot save the day, not after Tony now knows all about Steve Rogers' ultimate betrayal. It remains the biggest and ugliest gaping wound inside his heart – one that he does not know how to mend; not now, not ever.Still, Tony is grateful to be rescued from certain death... or he would be, if not for the hypothermic, catatonic state of pain he is in.Back in New York, in a hospital bed on a secured floor high up Stark Tower, the drugs in Tony's system make him weepy and maudlin once he is semi-coherent. He all but bawls his heart out to the steadfast person by his side, inner child hurting and grieving. Once he is done and a very unsexy, blubbering mess, Bruce's angular features morph into fierce determination. His touch, however, remains gentle on Tony's cold skin.“I see.”That is a very dangerous expression in the Bruce Wayne Dictionary. It means 'I am going to take care of this now, and I don't want you to be a part of it whatsoever because it is not going to be pretty'. Maybe Tony is pathetic and petty, but at that very moment, with his ribcage shattered and his lungs bruised (pulmonary contusion, Tony is told. It sounds as awful as it feels), he revels in Batman's sweet, sweet retaliation.While Bruce is away, Tony begins to heal, from the outside at least. Inside, he is just as bitter, bruised and broken, but at least he has a purpose now. The technology he has created, the one that connects to the brain and transmits its memories onto a screen, is going to help Rhodey walk.At some point, news from Wakanda roll in.Bruce's intel is fast and makes Tony's blood boil anew. Apparently, Steve and his precious Bucky have sought shelter in T'Challa's homeland. It feels like another slap in the face, just like that letter and that pathetic excuse for a phone Steve sent."Give me a week, then I'll have them handed over to the authorities in the States. Any which condition you prefer."Despite the raspy growl over the line, Tony cannot help but smile. The BWD (Bruce Wayne Dictionary) translates his offer into 'I love you and want to make you feel better'. Instead of flowers or dinner dates, it encompasses beating all people who have done Tony wrong to a pulp. And Tony knows his Dark Knight In Shiny Carbon Kevlar is serious. Romance is truly alive, Tony muses, not without feeling complacent.He muses some more and comes to a very satisfying, mental image.And yet?“Don't. Just... don't. It's of no use.”Yes, Tony is tired, and not just because of his daily dose of painkillers.“Just come back home, okay? Please.”Later, when they lay side by side in Tony's bed, Mister Stark will deny he ever said 'please' out loud, and Mister Wayne will deny he complied and headed for Stark Tower instead of Gotham City. It's a trade-off both can live with.As for the rest?Some things cannot be solved by turning a blind eye to them or throwing a lot of money around. Things like Batman being a wanted criminal in his hometown, or Iron Man making a lot of enemies after Ultron and losing a lot of friends during the attempted implementation of the Sokovia Accords. Things like Rhodey's prosthetic prototype not being up to par yet, and things like Pepper Potts going back to openly date again.Yet, Tony and Bruce keep on working out the kinks; both in their relationship and in the cards either of them has been dealt.It is what genius billionaire philanthropists (who have ditched the playboy part) do.If his life were a survey asking him what really mattered most to him in the end, Tony would only check one single box.Trust. THE END
10319096	Bal Masque	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Erik \| Phantom of the Opera, Christine Daaé, Raoul de Chagny", "Fandom": "Le Fantôme de l'Opéra \| Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by crazywrite", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-16T00:00:00", "words": "2,096", "Additional Tags": "Genderbending", "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 }	She felt exposed, far too exposed. Perhaps it was the dress—a scarlet mess of taffeta and silk, gold beads adorning the bodice and train. The gold and scarlet twisted together to form a fiery panorama. Its plunging neckline was daring and revealed almost too much of her deathly pale skin. The dress was beautiful, there was no doubting that, but it gained far too much attention. Plus, it was cumbersome and required a godforsaken corset. Her mask was also gaining attention. While most women preferred the more feminine morretas and gattos , her mask was a full-faced volto with a realistic skull painted in meticulous detail. The pitch dabbed around her eyes made them spark in the candlelight. She was equally terrifying and alluring. She had not been at the Opera Populaire’s Bal Masque for two hours, and five men in various levels of sobriety had asked for her to dance. She’d declined all. She, the Opera Ghost, the Phantom of the Opera, the Angel of Music had better things than twirling in asinine patterns with a man that kept staring down her decolletage the entire time. She had other things to see to on this eve of the new year. The Opera had gone out all for this extravaganza she noted with a slight sense of disdain. The alcohol was of the highest caliber—distilled only in France, of course—and the food had been prepared by the finest chefs in Paris. Even though she ate so little, the sight of tables upon tables loaded with tiny hors d’ orderves made the hunger in her belly stir its head. She bypassed the food for the alcohol was. She needed to be clear headed for tonight’s spectacular, but she needed something for her hands to hold. Even though she’d spent days planning the meticulous details of this night, there was a sense of jumpy fear that radiated in varying waves down her spine. She picked up a dainty flute of champagne from a passing servant, mostly to quiet her hands and forbid them from rubbing a hole in her dress in their nervousness. The champagne tasted sweet yet dry, as champagne should, but the fizzy bubbles were slow on popping against her palate. No doubt it was somewhat stale from being in the unprotected air for a while. She drank it anyways, since it didn’t deplete her own winestock. Wandering aimlessly, she found herself in the main entrance of the Opera. The staircase and all its gold embellishments had been polished to a glimmering sheen. The cherubs and muses adorning the bottom of the staircase seemed to bow to her for they knew how important she had been to their creation. As a matter of fact, she had protested at their addition. Garnier had been obstinate on the fact, however, and she’d had no choice but to concede to him. She smirked as she admired her work, proud in the fact that it was her touch in the slight curves in the gilded banister and the dappled marble of the staircase. The indignation of Paris’s upper classes would be a royal treat if they knew that almost half of their beloved Opera House had been designed by a woman. It would be the scandal of the century! All around her, there was laughter and merriment. A small part of her wanted to join the crowd in their reckless enjoyment. But the gazes and whispers reminded that she was wanted nowhere. She sighed, pushed that hopeless wish deep down, and continued to wander She wanted to know if he was here, and if he had brought her . The woman in the fiery red dress and the skull mask walked with a sense of dignified hurry. The stares that followed her were half curious and half disgusted. The dress she wore had exposed shoulders, so the pale, puckered scars were open to gawk at. She knew all too well that those scars, the phantoms of her abuse in the Gypsy camp, were what the people were staring at. The memories of the past threatened to drown her in that moment, but she pushed the erratic fear down deep inside her. If she dwelled on that time, she’d have flashbacks and the night would end in dark dreams she never woke up from. She shook her head, dispelling the poisonous thoughts, and settled her focus on finding her dear student. Two more rejected suitors later, she found him. He was talking with the managers. The two men’s faces were flushed with the rosiness of too much liquor. He looked completely sober, however. There was another figure with him, but she was hidden part way by his lanky form. She caught the glimpse of a slender wrist holding a pale pink columbina , complete with dyed feathers. The Phantom slipped behind a marble column to listen to their conversation. The managers were gloating about their successes. “Yes, I agree this season was quite a success. Aside from those few mishaps, it went quite smoothly.” The manager grinned at her student. “And we wouldn’t have found such an amazing tenor.” The other manager nodded in agreement. “Of course. After the chandelier,”—at this, they all looked up unconsciously at the ceiling—”all has been quite peaceful.” The first manager nudged the second. “Perhaps the Phantom finally gave up. Perhaps she is rotting down in the cellars right now.” Finally, finally, he spoke up. “No, I don’t think so.” “You don’t?” one of the managers asked, one eyebrow high on his sweaty forehead. “No,” he insisted. “She’s not dead. She’s planning something. Something big.” Behind the pillar, she snorted quietly. You have no idea what you’re getting into , she thought with a small sardonic smile. The female figure spoke during the awkward silence. Just the sound of her saccharine voice made the Phantom tense. “Well, when she does finally make her appearance, we’ll send for the gendarmes right away. Isn’t that right?” She blinked coyly at him. The Phantom’s gloved hand tightened on the champagne flute. If things had gone differently, it would be her that he looked at adoringly and her that he reached for at night. His nervous gulp was audible to even her. “Um, yes of course. Whatever you think is necessary.” “You seem hesitant about the idea of her being locked up,” the sweaty-forehead manager commented. “It’s just that . . .” He struggled for the words to come out. “She’s not insane. I Just think she’s distrustful of people.” She snorted. The first part of his statement was very false. Oh, she was far from sane. She’d accepted that fact many years ago. It had been lost forever a long, long time ago. But for the second part of his statement, he was absolutely true. She didn’t trust anybody. Not even herself. She glanced at the clock. 11:45. If her the plan was to go off without a hitch, she needed to get into position soon, With a small sigh of regret, she moved away from the pillar and made her way towards the staircase. She left the champagne flute on the platter a servant was passing around. Behind her, his little inamorata was chastising him for not thinking the Phantom should have her head placed on a silver platter. She made her way her way up the grand staircase, lifting the hem of her dress up so she could walk without fear of falling. She had no inkling on why women enjoyed wearing such cumbersome garments. Was it a way for the men to torment women? Regardless if corsets could be considered as torture devices, she needed to be prepared now. She touched a raised part of the gilded wall and a panel slid back to reveal the finalized libretto. It was in her best handwriting, a task that had taken more than a day to perfect. The crowd behind her hummed in excitement. It was mere minutes to the new year. As they watched the clocks in drunken excitement, she glided behind the large gold statue of a muse. The energy spiked to an unbearable level as the moment came closer with every second. With an odd finality, the clock ticked into the new year. There were cheers all around, many glad to welcome a peaceful year after the last’s chaos. They were not going to get that; she made that dream impossible. The gas-lights dimmed suddenly, causing an immediate sense of confusion and dread. She’d planned for the lights to go down after the stroke of midnight so as to confuse the patrons. As the protests grew louder with every moment, she stepped out of the shadow of the statue and stood on the top of the grand staircase. It became eerily quiet. The looks of pure shock were extremely hilarious and she couldn’t help the twisted chuckle that came out of her throat. The sound of her shoes clacking against the marble sounded like gunshots in the quiet atrium. “You thought I was gone?” She let out a high-pitched giggle. It was the laugh of a madwoman. “You honestly thought the Phantom would disappear for good? How stupid you must feel.” She was halfway down the staircase. “I have not made myself known not because I was gone—and some of you think I’d died! —but because I was perfecting my masterpiece! Yes, I am a composer as well.” She held up the libretto and the gold filigree title glinted in the limited light. “I have a deal to make. You will perform my opera to my liking. I will be making sure that you follow all of my stipulations throughout the work. If you don’t . . .” She let the threat hang. “Well, let’s just say that you will be losing more than just a chandelier. Things that can’t be replaced.” Now at the the bottom of the stairs, she threw down the libretto. It slid to one of the manager’s polished shoes. He lifted it up, hands shaking violently. She smirked underneath her mask. Her tricks and threats had worked. Perfect. There was a commotion in the crowd as someone pushed through. The Phantom’s eyes widened as she realized exactly who had shouldered their way through the crowd. She took a deep breath. It was him . Practically in a trance, they came close to each other. The rising clamor of the crowd hushed as they were enveloped in their own little reality. He was so close, so close that she could smell a faint trace of cologne. He looked different somehow; perhaps it was they way he opened up his shoulders. There was a glint of metal underneath his vest, something thin and gold. It jangled with each erratic beat of his heart. She frowned and grabbed the dangling chain. The flimsy gold links snapped at only the slightest force. Her eyebrows raised in surprise. On the end of the chain was a ring. A woman’s ring. She stared down at it, realization souring in her stomach. It was a woman's signet ring. She knew nothing about the various crests of the upper class, but she knew exactly whose it was. De Changy . That little strumpet was promising herself to a man her family would most likely disown her for marrying. He looked up at her then, cerulean eyes swirling with a wide array of emotions. Desire pulsed underneath the shock of seeing her again after his treason. She could take him down to the bowels of the Opera right now—she was standing right on top of a large trapdoor in fact—but she wanted him to squirm. “You will be mine once more,” she said. “An angel might not feel jealousy, but a phantom certainly can.” And with a wicked smile, she stamped her foot on the correct tile and released the mechanism for the trapdoor. Smoke hissed into the air as the floor dropped from underneath her. Confusion ran rampant among the inebriated crowd as the smoke spread throughout the grand hall. Her laugh echoed against the damp stone walls as she fell down into the bowels of the Opera. She’d done it, she’d actually done it! Her giddiness met an abrupt end as she landed on the padding she'd installed years ago. Unfortunately it had been worn down by time but her bustle seemed to absorb some of the shock. Huh. Perhaps the current fashions were somewhat useful. She stood, not bothering to reposition the dress. Once she was back in her lair, the damn thing was coming off. Corset and all.
10350585	Modes of Communication	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Brad Armstrong, Terry Hintz, Queen Roger, Fly Minetti", "Fandom": "LISA (Video Games)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by rasputinian", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-18T00:00:00", "words": "15,579", "Additional Tags": "Mutual Masturbation, Frottage, Oral Sex, Deepthroating, Anal Sex, Kink Negotiation, a touch of undernegotiated kink, drunk sex but only for a second, Discussion of Consent Issues, Enthusiastic Consent, nasty kinky boy terry hintz, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, but also multiple first times, Canon Disabled Character, Dirty Talk, that said it's p vanilla bc im saving all the kink stuff for lisa the domestic, a lot of kissing and mutual respect, mentions of drug addiction, suicide talk, Semi-Public Sex, also weed", "Relationship": "Brad Armstrong/Terry Hintz", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "the saddest dads in all of olathe", "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 }	Technically, it’s Terry’s watch. Queen Roger had come up with the idea of sleeping in shifts ever since Brad and the others had to give up half their mags to save him from some small-time gang. “Humiliating,” he had called it. “Absolutely humiliating.” But, for the past few nights, Terry and Brad have been spending their shifts together. Brad isn’t a good sleeper. Never has been. He’s spent years lying in silence, or, worse, noise he cannot stop. At least, now, there was someone to sit up and listen with him.This, whatever it is that exists between him and Terry now, is good. Brad can’t remember if he’s had something like this before. He isn’t sure what categories to look under for previous examples, if he should think back to girlfriends or best friends or something else, but he knows that he likes this: conversations, quiet as not to wake up Fly or Queen, the look Terry gives him when things go silent, something comfortable and clean, the feeling of Terry’s hand against his face as he leans in and places a kiss above the corner of Brad’s mouth and the rush that follows.Brad sucks open-mouthed kisses on Terry’s neck, scrapes his teeth lightly against his pulse, admires the warmth that courses through him when Terry squirms against his touch and lets out a throaty whisper, a single vowel.“Ah-“ The sound makes Brad shiver. He presses a little more of his weight into Terry slowly as not to crush him, but the nervousness fades as Terry’s hands work into the skin beneath Brad’s poncho. In the daytime, Brad notices Terry’s hands, calloused, nails chewed uneven, in a passive way, but, here, Brad is hyperaware, leaning into every touch, sucking in a breath through his teeth when Terry’s nails bite into him. Brad nips the flesh just below Terry’s jaw, not enough to draw blood but enough to make the other man arch against him. “O-oh, fuck, dude.” Brad squeezes Terry against him. Terry’s hand moves from his back to his chest and down his stomach, and Brad basks in the touch until Terry’s hand moves lower and everything jolts to a stop. His body tenses. His breath catches in his throat.“This good?” Terry asks, but there’s pause in his voice. Brad doesn’t say anything, can’t say anything, can’t even look him in the face. “Brad?” Terry’s hand slowly retreats to safer ground and settles at his ribs.“Sorry,” Brad manages.“No, dude, are you okay?” Brad nods, trying his best to look the part, fully aware that he’s failing. “I’m sorry, dude. I didn’t mean to, like—I just thought everything was going good, and—““No, it’s good,” Brad says, his voice as firm as he can manage. “I’m fine.” Terry doesn’t push it any further, but he stares at Brad as if he were trying to read a book in the muted dark of the cave. Even as Brad tries his best to look past Terry, into the reflection of the fire on the slick cave walls, he can’t help but see that face, lips slightly parted, an utter despair in his eyes. Brad feels sick, gut-ache, and the need to be not sober throbs in his skull. He knows he needs to say something. Terry deserves an explanation, but he can’t think beyond the bile and the heat. “I just,” he begins, but he doesn’t get much further. He’s never been able to get much further than this. “Not yet.”“Okay.” There’s a little silence between them. Brad can’t meet Terry’s gaze for more than a moment. He’s already said too much, already let the feelings back in. “Do you wanna keep going, like, kissing-wise?” Brad draws in his lips and shakes his head. “Okay.” Another pause, too long. Brad tries to think about nothing. Terry lingers hard on the beginning of a sentence before speaking again. “Can I hold you?” Brad nods, and he can tell Terry is trying hard to smile as he settles back in his seat against the wall before offering out an arm. Brad eases himself into the touch, tucks his knees into his chest, places the side of his head against Terry’s lap. Terry’s cock, hard, presses into the side of his face, and Brad hates how much worse that makes the nauseous feeling.“I’m sorry,” he whispers. Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry. That’s all he ever is.“No, it’s my fault. I should’ve asked.” Terry sounds just about as bad as he does, and Brad doesn’t get why because Terry was just being normal. That was what normal people did. It wasn’t Terry’s fault that Brad was ruined.“I just,” he says, a second attempt. He gets a little further than the first. “I just can’t.” His voice breaks on the final word, and he knows Terry heard it because he starts rubbing nervous paths on Brad’s neck with his fingers. It’s probably supposed to be a comforting gesture, but all it does is coax out tears. It takes a moment for Terry to respond, and, when he does, there is something horrible and afraid in his voice.“Are you having, like, second thoughts about all this? Like, us?”“No.”“Is it because I’m a guy?”“No.” Maybe. Fuck, he doesn’t know because all he can think about is being sixteen years old and puking all over the bathroom floor and Lisa in the other room and blood and Jesus Christ he should have killed himself a long time ago. Terry is still talking.“Because, if you want to go back to being friends, we can do that. I can still like you even if it’s not, you know, like that. I don’t care. You’re my best friend, Brad.”“I still want this,” he chokes out.“Okay,” Terry says, and a bit of calm has returned to his voice, but it’s not quite right. Brad doesn’t know how to fix it all the way. He never does. They just lie there in silence, Terry absently petting the hair above Brad’s ear, Brad trying to stay still and quiet as he cries himself out. “Do you think our shift is up yet? I need to sleep I think.”“Want me to go wake up Queen?” Brad asks, wiping his face on his arm as he eases himself up. Terry looks at him for a moment. Brad isn’t sure how much he can see in the dark of the cave, the only light at his back, but, apparently, he sees enough. He shakes his head.“I’ll do it. You get some rest. I’ll- I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” Brad nods, whispers “okay.” He doesn’t have the energy to disagree.Brad moves closer to the fire and curls himself into a little ball. He imagines the heat of the fire drying the sadness from his body like a foreign sun. It doesn’t quite work, but he does feel warmer, and he tries to tell himself that’s close enough.Behind him, he hears Terry’s voice, gentle urging, and a shuffling noise as Queen Roger pushes himself up off the cave floor.“You two having fun?” Queen chuckles.“Who, me and Brad?” Terry asks with a little laugh. He sounds almost himself, and Brad would see himself, something else, in Terry if he weren’t so tired. “Uh, yeah. We had a good talk.”“Mmhmm. What’s on your neck?"“Oh, shit, how bad is it?” Terry chuckles, his voice cracking, and Queen shushes him, says something low. Brad promises himself he won’t fall asleep until Terry lies down. It’d be wrong of him somehow, but Terry and Queen’s voices fade into the clinking of glass, fire-crackle, night insects, he drifts off, horribly, horribly alone. Brad used to go on walks when he’d tried to get sober before. It helped with the cravings. Not a lot, but enough. It was the rhythm of it, something he didn’t have to think about. He actively tries not to think about it because, if he does, he’ll think about how he could only remember Marty sitting down. He wondered, still does, if there was something wrong with his knees, if they hurt. Brad hopes they did. Brad hopes they didn’t. He hopes that his knees won’t start to hurt. If he is grateful for anything right now, it’s that he’s doing a lot of walking.When they stop for water the next day in the shade of a high cliff, Brad feels like he did on those sober walks: hot, sunny, and empty headed. He sits, legs spread out before him, against the wall of the cliff, as he sips dirty water from a scavenged bottle. The glass is warm from the sun, the water even hotter and vaguely metallic on his tongue. He closes his eyes as if the heat in his skull will escape past his eyelids and leave places for the anxiousness to fill, the anxiousness that always comes when he thinks about where Buddy is or what she’s doing or if she’s safe and how he doesn’t know if they’re going in the right direction. Brad squeezes his eyes tighter and only opens them again when he hears footsteps. Terry ambles over and sits down beside him. His skin is glossy wet, and his cheeks are baked red, but he smiles as his eyes meet Brad’s.“We’re setting up camp here, right?” Terry asks, not completely seriously but serious enough to merit a response.“It’s still bright out.”“We’ve been walking for, like, six hours. I’m injured! You gotta carry me.”“I’m not gonna carry you with one arm, Terr.”“I’m not saying you gotta give me the full wedding day treatment! You can throw me over your shoulder,” Terry explains, placing his hand on Brad’s shoulder and giving it a little shake. Brad’s first instinct is to jump, to recoil, but, as the touch lingers, he reminds himself that this is Terry, and this is good, and this is safe, and this doesn’t hurt, and this is fine. He takes a breath.“Like a fireman or like a scarf?” he asks, his voice softening.“Either one. As long as I’m getting carried.” Brad exhales in a puff that he hopes resembles a laugh, and he hands his bottle to Terry.“You want some water?”“Oh my God, yes, please. I drank mine too fast and inhaled, like, ninety percent of it.” Terry takes the bottle quickly, but he makes a visible effort to slow his pace as he tilts the bottle upward and takes a big gulp. He makes a loud “ahh” sound as he pulls away before handing the bottle back to Brad. Brad accepts it and takes another sip, but he watches Terry wipe his face on the hem of his shirt out of his peripheral. He pushes back his bangs, combs his fingers through them, makes a scissor motion with his fingers as if contemplating trimming them back. Every now and again, though, Brad sees Terry glance over at him, just for a moment, before looking away. Brad tries not to think much of it, but he notices it a bit more sharply each time it happens until, finally, Terry turns his head to face him.“Hey, uh, can I ask you a question?” Brad can hear trepidation in his voice, and it sets him a little on edge, but he nods anyway. Terry doesn’t seem immune to it either; he’s got his nervous smile on his face, and Brad can tell he’s fighting to hold eye contact. “When you said ‘not yet,’ did you mean, like, not yet? Or did you mean not ever?”“Not yet,” Brad says, but there is a part of him that wants to take the latter option.“Does that happen all the time?” Terry asks, but Brad knows what he really means. How fucked is he? How crazy? Brad looks away for a moment, runs his hand over his sweat-slick scalp.“Not all the time.” He knows it didn’t happen the last time he was with someone, at least not at first. It only hit him when he sobered up, alone in his bed, and he remembers being so glad that the girl didn’t stay the night because he took ten painkillers and woke up in a room full of people, cops and ambulances and Rick with this godawful look on his face, something he hadn’t seen since they were kids.“Would it help if we talked about it?” Terry suggests. Brad shrugs off a bit of discomfort. He looks at Terry from the corner of his eye to get a gauge on where the conversation is going, but Terry’s face seems wholly focused on something else.“What’s ‘it’?”“What we’d do.” Brad feels like he’s in high school again, sitting on Cheeks’s bedroom floor with Rick and Sticky, smoking the cheapest weed their pooled money could buy, windows propped open by Cheeks’s unused textbooks. It would always be Rick that started those kind of conversations, talking about girls from their class, people Brad barely remembered then much less now. Do you think she’s hot? Would you fuck her? And Brad remembers the looks on all of their faces, not excited so much as embarrassed, even a little uncomfortable. Brad, his face hot, would nod because he felt like it was the right thing to do. But he’s not fourteen anymore, and he should definitely be less embarrassed when Terry says the word “do.”“I’m not really good at talking about that kind of stuff.” He cracks a crooked smile, looks over to Terry. “You probably already knew that.” Terry smiles.“You don’t have to be good. It’s not, like, a sex thing. Well, no, it is a sex thing, but there’s no pressure. It’s just seeing what we’re both into and how we could make it better for each other. You know,” he begins, and Brad can see something in Terry’s face light up, just a little, “all healthy relationships are rooted in communication. That’s a hint from Care Terr.” Brad pauses on the word relationships, feels it on his lips. It’s smooth, rolls easily along the ridges of his brain.“Care Terr?”“Y-you get it? Like a Care Bear. You remember those, right?” Brad nods. He does, in fact, remember Care Bears. “It wasn’t my best work, okay? I normally have a little more time to come up with those. That isn’t the point!”“No, no, we can try it.”“Okay! Cool.” But the conversation doesn’t start for a long while, the silence of expectation tight in the air between them.“So, uh,” Brad begins, his head cocked low, and he tries to summon up something sultry in his voice, but he sounds just the same as ever when he asks, “What are you wearing?” Terry looks at him, lips slightly parted, eyes wide in confusion, but, as the realization dawns on him, his mouth twists into a grin which erupts into a howling laughter. He grips his stomach, kicks his long legs. “It wasn’t even that funny,” Brad says, reaching over with his good hand to try and cover Terry’s mouth, but he’s smiling.“It’s funny because it’s you!”“Shut the fuck up!” Fly shouts from beside the empty fire pit.“Man,” Terry says, still giggling, “fuck that guy.” Brad chuckles in agreement. Another silence, a little more comfortable then the last. Terry leans his head against Brad’s shoulder, hums a content little note, and Brad can feel something loosen in his chest little by little. “Uh, so what do you like?”“What?”“Like, sex.” Brad looks away from Terry and thinks back to every time he had ever been with someone, a collage of misremembered parts, limbs twisted, mouths and eyes.“I don’t know.”“Like, do you like it rough? Do you…” A prompt. Brad could work with a prompt.“No,” he begins, trying to sculpt his thoughts into something coherent. “I guess I like it more, I don’t know, gentle.” He shrugs. He’s got a word in his mind. Nice.“Are you a top or a bottom or, like, what?” Brad shrugs again.“I’ve never had sex with a guy.” Terry nods, no surprises. “I’d probably be more of a top, I guess.”“Oh, that’s good because I’m not,” Terry says lightly. “Like, I could top? I have, but it’s not my thing. You got any kinks or whatever?”“Fuck, I don’t know.”“Anything in particular you like? It doesn’t have to be anything weird.” Brad tries to list out things he had done in the past that he’d liked, but, again, it’s too indistinct and bleary to pull out anything specific. He remembers he had liked things at points, that there were good moments in there somewhere, but he cannot find them now that he needs them.“I can’t think of anything.” Brad pauses, another attempt, but he comes back blank. “Nothing. I’m boring. What about you?” Brad asks, and, little by little, a smile grows on Terry’s face. “What?” Brad asks.“Nothing,” Terry says unconvincingly.“Tell me.”“I’m so embarrassed now,” he laughs, looking pointedly at not-Brad. “I’m gonna sound like such a freak going after you.” Brad doesn’t know what to say, so he says nothing. Terry runs his hand through his bangs, doesn’t look up. “Uh, well, I like a lot of stuff. I used to be really into getting tied up. Less so now, but I’m still totally down. Also, like, humiliation? Like, verbal, and, uh,” Terry looks like he’s got a phrase in mind, but he reconsiders and replaces it with, “other stuff. Public is cool, but I don’t think there’s many places where you can fuck that aren’t kind of in public nowadays, so yeah. Mostly, though, I like it super rough? Just, like, pull my hair. Hold me down. Fuckin’… Fuckin’ ruin me, you know?” Brad doesn’t know, but he nods anyway. Terry laughs at nothing in particular. “Like, choking? Leaving bruises. Stuff like that.”“Shit,” Brad murmurs.“No, not into that,” Terry says, and he laughs at his own joke, but there’s a moment of uncertainty, a tone in Terry’s voice, a feeling in Brad’s chest as he thinks about the logistics of it all, pain and receiving it and causing it, causing it, causing it. “It’s a lot. I know.”“I don’t know if I could do some of that,” Brad admits.“No, that’s totally cool.” If Terry is disappointed, he doesn’t show it. “We don’t even have to, like, do anything big. We don’t have to do anything! I just like being with you! That’s all that matters, right?”“Right.” A pause. Brad takes another sip of his water, but something stands out in his mind. “What counts as something big?”“I don’t know, man. I was just saying stuff,” he says. “Anal is probably a big thing.” Brad almost snorts. This really is high school all over again.“Probably.” Terry smiles and leans his head against Brad’s shoulder, and Brad sets the bottle on the ground in favor of letting his fingers brush against Terry’s, not quite holding hands but something close enough. But, the longer they sit together in the shade, the cooler and denser Brad’s thoughts grow, and, in the empty spaces, a new worry grows like a mold, fetid. It lingers on him even when they start back on the road, and, in the dark of their campsite, as Brad drifts off to sleep, third shift, he can feel it as a single question: what if he can’t? Brad’s got a plan in a bottle. It’s not a new plan by any means, and it’s a plan that has almost never gone well, but it’s going to work this time. Brad likes Terry more than he remembers liking anyone before this, wants this more than he remembers wanting it ever before.They start drinking that night around the fire, all four of them, straight whiskey.“How come we never have soda at the same time we have whiskey?” Terry asks, and the others seem to give it some thought, but they can’t come up with an answer. “Like, we really need to plan that better. I’m not a freshman in college. I can’t do handle pulls anymore. I have standards.”“You have standards?” Queen asks.“I mean, they’re low, but they’re there.” Terry ends the sentence with a swig from the bottle, but it’s only a second before he pulls away, coughing. “Holy shit,” he gasps, “bad idea.” The group laughs as Terry offers out the bottle. Brad takes it and pulls from it, a solid couple seconds before he swallows and takes a breath. Queen chuckles, claps out a slow applause. “Dude,” Terry begins, rocking forward as he speaks, and Brad can tell that, in spite of the fact that Terry’s drunk less than half of what he has, he’s definitely feeling it. “How do you do it? That stuff literally tastes like fire.”“It’s not that bad.”“You drink like an asshole,” Fly grumbles like he wants no one to hear while also making sure that everyone can hear. “We’re gonna run out. Shit was expensive.”“Quit bitching,” Queen drawls, not even looking at Fly. “Money’s for spending, and whiskey’s for drinking. Besides, he’s doing you a favor. I know I ain’t carrying the stuff tomorrow. I’m about to throw out my damn back with how much shit you guys got in there.”“You don’t carry it any more than the rest of us do, and you know it.” Queen snorts.“’The rest of us?’ You didn’t carry it more than an hour today before you started whining about how someone else should take it.” Even in the firelight, Brad sees Fly’s face grow redder with every word.“You know what? You’re a fucking bitch, and-““Guys, guys, stop fighting,” Terry says, a grin spreading across his face as he continues, “You need to, like… You guys are like Will Smith and the white guy in Men in Black. You gotta learn to, like, accept each other and work together so you can get eaten by the alien but, like, shoot your way out so that one of you can retire.”“Is that what happens in Men in Black?” Queen asks.“I don’t know, man. I’m drunk.”“Go to sleep. You’re getting sloppy,” Queen says.“Here’s a hint: don’t be like me.” But Terry stays up even as Queen and Fly settle in for the night, and Brad volunteers to take first shift. He’s drunk enough to feel it in every sense, an emotion as much as it is a physical sensation, but he’s sober enough to know that he probably should stay up a bit longer and drink some water, do something to head off the hangover he’s certain is coming in the morning. At first, it looks like Terry might not be able to stay up for the whole watch; he lies in the dirt, flat on his back at first before rolling over onto his side and staring into the middle distance with heavy-lidded eyes. Brad watches him, a vague disappoint manifesting a headache. Or maybe it’s just a regular headache. Then, Terry’s eyes squint open, and he rolls over until he’s on his hands and knees, crawling over to Brad’s side. In spite of the sudden tightness in Brad’s chest, it’s probably for the better; he knows he can’t stay up much longer without assistance. His engine is flooded, glazed-over. Terry pushes himself into a sitting position.“Hey,” Terry says, sleep weighing down his voice. Brad nods. “Do you think Queen and Fly are gonna hook up?”“What the fuck, Terry?”“I’m just saying. What if they do? Could you imagine kissing Fly? His mouth probably tastes so bad. Like seven different kinds of vomit.”“What are the different kinds of vomit?”“Dude, there’s, like, a whole organizational system, and...” Terry’s voice trails off into nothing, nothing, nothing, until Brad hears his voice again. “You doing okay?” Terry asks, and Brad realizes that he’s lost track of time.“I’m so drunk,” Brad says, not sure if he’s telling Terry or himself.“Me too, pal,” Terry laughs. He winks at Brad as he takes another swig from the bottle near their feet. “Like, I’m definitely at ‘gonna be really sick in the morning’ levels here.” He flops back on the ground. His eyes are closed, and his lips are parted just a little bit. “Don’t let me fall asleep.”“Me too,” Brad says. “Maybe we should’ve...”“No, definitely,” Terry agrees. At least he knew what he was saying. “Shit,” Terry begins, and, as the silence prevails, Brad tries to practice the same precognition. He comes up with nothing. “We gotta think of something to talk about, or we’re gonna fall asleep, and it would be really fucking embarrassing if Queen got kidnapped twice.” Brad nods. “Did you go to college?”“No,” he answers, and he wants to stop it there until he realizes that he should probably return the favor. “What about you?”“Kind of,” Terry says. There’s a moment where neither of them speak. Brad makes a noise that feels like a question, and Terry says something else, but Brad can’t seem to form the sound into words. He is just agreeing, not even to anything in particular, filling the pauses with sound. In a more lucid moment, Brad hears Terry’s voice, quiet and tender.“-very lonely,” he says.“Yeah,” Brad agrees. A few moments later, Terry says something else, and Brad affirms, “Yeah.”Then, at some point, they’re kissing, sloppy on both of their parts. Terry is sitting in his lap, his face slightly above Brad’s, and their hands are gripping and claiming and, even though he’s overwhelmed with this feeling of being not in control, of being a bag in the wind, a jellyfish, a ghost haunting his own body, it’s okay. It’s all okay.He isn’t sure when he wakes up for good; there are moments when he’s awake and lying on the ground, and Terry’s still asleep beside him, and there are moments when Fly is saying something, all nasal and consonants, and there are moments when he rolls onto his side and vomits into the dirt, and Terry tries to move his hair out of the way and wipe up his mouth, and Queen pats him on the back and says something, and Brad wants to shrug away the touch, but he can only cough the last bit of vomit from his throat and wait for the moment to pass. Suddenly, he’s sitting upright, and it’s daytime, and the rest of the group is packing up the camp site, and he can feel his pulse pounding in his skull like a gunshot. He sits there, empty save the pain, until someone speaks to him.“Get up, bald man. You gotta walk this one off,” Queen says, rough but not unkind. Brad grumbles. “You want some water or something?” He nods, holds out his hand until there is something in it, a bottle, a bit of jerky. “Don’t throw this up.” Brad nods again and brings the bottle to his lips. The water is warm, and it washes up the taste of bile and alcohol, so thick and fetid that he wants to spit it out, but he knows that they can’t afford to waste water. He swallows and takes a bite of the jerky. “You got ten more minutes. Don’t go back to sleep.” Brad nods, mumbles an okay, and waits.Eventually, Queen returns to pull Brad onto his feet, and the four start walking. Brad takes up the end of the line, steps slow, head throbbing. Every now and then, he looks up to see what direction Queen is leading them in, to see Fly making a show of how he’s ignoring the rest of them, arms crossed. Terry walks a few paces ahead, his head hung low and looking worse for the wear.“You doing okay?” Brad asks. Terry turns his head, looking for the source of the voice, and, when he finds Brad, he manages a smile.“Eh,” Terry says, hanging back until he and Brad walk side by side. “Definitely been better. How about you?”“Like shit,” he says.“Hangover?”“Yep.”“Same.” He pauses, and Brad can feel him thinking hard. When he speaks again, his voice has taken a turn for the serious. “You sure you’re okay?” Brad nods, not quite sure what he’s getting at. “Okay. I just didn’t know with what happened last night.” Brad says nothing for too long. “Wait, how drunk were you, dude?” Terry ends the question with a little laugh, but it’s on uneven footing.“I was really fucked up.” “Like, what do you mean? Do you remember…” His voice trails off into something that doesn’t register through the throbbing in Brad’s skull. He doesn’t think he’d know how to answer even if he tried. “Oh my God,” Terry murmurs, horror dawning on his face. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I had no clue. I thought you were just, shit, I don’t know what I thought. I wouldn’t have done anything if I had known you were that drunk, dude.” Brad can see the panic in Terry’s face, that tone to his voice back again.“You were drunk too. It’s fine, Terr,” Brad says, too sick to think hard on what Terry is saying.“I wasn’t as drunk as you if you can’t remember any of it!”“It’s fine,” Brad repeats, and he means for the firmness in his voice to be a reassuring thing, but it comes out harsh, fermented-bitter. Terry doesn’t respond, just looks at him, eyes shocked wide and watery. He swallows hard around nothing before he turns to the dusty road before them, something coiling behind his eyes. Brad knows he’s done something wrong again, something terrible, that he’s ruined it, but it’s a wordless thought that offers no solutions. They walk, silent, for a long while.“What happened?” Brad asks.“We just fooled around a little,” Terry answers. “It didn’t go super far. It was just, like, some touching over the clothes, and, then, you got sick, so we stopped.” Brad nods, hums a note with no meaning beyond acknowledgement. He doesn’t know what to feel. He doesn’t feel anything. “I’m so sorry, Brad. I was kind of in and out, but I should’ve…” Brad shakes his head.“It doesn’t matter.”They don’t speak for the rest of the walk. They don’t speak when they stop in a little cave, and they work in near silence building the fire, nibbling at the few bits of jerky still in their pack. Brad only hears Terry’s voice when he offers to take first watch, and, as Queen and Fly find opposite sides of the cave, their eyes finally catch each other’s and hold.“You staying up too?” Terry asks, but Brad can’t tell if he wants a particular answer. It’s an uncertainty that drops, heavy, in his chest, presses his lungs down onto his heart. His voice squeezes from his nervous throat.“I like staying up with you,” he answers. Terry’s expression remains stony for a moment before the meaning of the sentence connects, and he softens into not quite a smile but something close enough to let Brad know that he probably doesn’t hate him. “Do you want me to stay?”“Of course I do.” Brad smiles, hoping the look on his face will communicate this feeling that cuts through the numbness, something he hasn’t quite found the words for yet. Terry smiles back, and Brad can see him shift as if he were about to move, but he doesn’t. “Please don’t do that again,” Terry says, his voice fond but serious.“Do what?” Brad asks.“Get that drunk.” He swallows hard, refines his request. “Not for that.”“Okay,” Brad says.“You promise?” Brad sucks in his lips, averts his eyes. “Like, if you don’t want to, that’s fine. I don’t care, but don’t get blackout so you’ll be comfortable with it. That’s not healthy.” Brad inhales the beginning of a sentence but stops himself short, reconsiders, before answering.“I’ve never had sober sex.” Terry’s brow furrows something deep.“That’s fucked, dude.” Brad puffs out a humorless laugh. “Do you even want to have sex? Like, am I pressuring you into this? Because, like-““You’re not. I really do want to because you’re…” He pauses, rephrases. “We’re in a relationship.” He says the last word like it feels: big, heavy, important.“You don’t have to have sex to be in a relationship, Brad.”“It’s more than just that though,” Brad says, frustration jagged in his voice. “I like you, and I want to be normal with you. I feel like I could. I’ve just gotta try harder.”“Who cares about normal, dude? Like, look around. There’s not much that’s normal anymore. And, I mean, I’m not normal. I don’t think I’ve ever been.” Brad puts his head in his hand and sighs. He glances over at Terry, who places a hand on Brad’s back. The little touch is a comfort. Brad leans into Terry, curls up beneath his arm as he stares out into the warmth of the fire. It occurs to him that he’s never been held like this.“I want to have sex with you. Just… Can we work up to it?”“Yeah. Of course.” Terry places a kiss on the top of Brad’s head, and, then, there is silence, not-silence, insect songs and animal sounds and the rest of the party breathing in their sleep and little words. Terry whispers, not-whispers about the mountains that surround them, about the deer, about how he’s not an outdoors person but how he’s grown to like sleeping by a fire. It’s like camping, Terry says. He had never been camping before. Brad nods, asks questions when appropriate, but, soon, the talk dies down, and they are alone, not-alone of the night, holding each other until their shift ends, and it is time to rest. “Would you want to try it?” Terry asks.“I guess,” Brad says, but he soon amends. “Yeah. We can try it.”“We don’t have to. I just thought it’d be low pressure, you know? I wouldn’t even look if you didn’t want me to.” Brad nods, tries to muster up certainty in his voice.“No, we can try it. And you can look if you want.”“Sick.” A little lull falls in conversation, and Brad watches as Terry’s eyes dart towards the fire, back towards Brad. “Like, now?”“Sure,” Brad says, but another moment passes, and Terry still has that look on his face. “Sorry. I’m making this awkward.”“No, you’re not. I just don’t know how to get this started,” Terry says, a laugh. “I mean, the masturbation part I get, but I normally don’t do it mutually. You feel?” Brad puffs out a little laugh, and Terry’s smile widens, just enough for Brad to notice. “Uh, so, like, what do you normally do when you jerk off or whatever?”“I don’t know,” Brad replies with a shrug. “Look at some porn, I guess.”“Oh, duh, we literally have seventy-five titty mags in a bag right now. Want me to get?” Brad nods. Terry stands, padding over to where their pack sits by the fire. He squats down and begins to dig through it. Without turning to look back at Brad, he asks, “You want ‘Backdoor Barbies’ or ‘Thick Thunder’ or ‘Big Trucks, Fast Fucks’ or what?”“Did you make those up?”“As much as I would like to say yes, no.”“Let’s see the trucks then.”“Good, because I was really curious about how they’d convey the speed of those fucks in a still medium. I’ll grab a couple.” Terry pushes himself up and walks back to the corner, waving the magazines in the air. His other hand forms a fist around something, but Brad quickly forgets it as Terry reclaims his place at his side and spreads the magazines between them.“Jesus, this is so middle school,” Brad says.“Is this what you did in middle school?” Terry asks. Brad doesn’t answer, just flips open an issue of “Booty Bonanza” with a cover bearing a headless body in a barely-there thong and the promise that “Marissa Shows It All!” inside. “You didn’t even pick the truck one?” Terry says, giving him a little nudge. He digs through the stack until he finds one with a topless blonde sitting, legs spread, on the hood of a black monster truck. “I’ll give them this: that truck is big.”Brad laughs, but he soon returns his focus to trying to get himself hard. He palms himself through his pants, slow, and tries to think sexy thoughts, something about being with Marissa as she showed it all. Touching her. Or something. The thought doesn’t go anywhere. He just focuses on his hand as it is, meaningless friction.“Does this do it for you?” Terry asks. “The porn, I mean.” Brad makes a noncommittal noise.“Kind of. Not really. I got kind of a low sex drive anyway, and this is…” He struggles to find a word.“Gross?” Terry suggests.“Kind of gross. And I like women.”“Yeah. I mean, I don’t, but, even if I did, I don’t know if this would be my thing.” Beside him, Brad hears a click, plastic. He glances over, trying to be inconspicuous, but Terry seems to notice. “Oh, yeah, I got lube.” He holds up a little, translucent bottle, the shadow of a fluid moving inside.“Where?”“Bought it a long time ago. Hella expensive. Dude, you gotta think: there are no women. There’s a lot of sad, desperate ass stuff happening. Or at least, like, sad, desperate J-ing O. People are gonna homebrew some lube.” Terry makes a movement towards the button of his pants, but he pauses for a moment to look Brad in the eye as if to warn him that, yes, this is happening, now is your chance to look away. Brad doesn’t. Terry pulls down his pants and underwear in one go, just enough to pull himself out. His cock is pink, ringed red with a circumcision scar, still semi-soft. He gingerly pours a bit of lube in his hand before grabbing his length and stroking it fast and loose. It doesn’t take long for him to get completely hard. He’s perfectly average-sized.Brad isn’t sure if it’s the visual or his hand, but he can feel himself getting hard. He unbuttons his pants, pushes his pants down until his underwear sits just below his balls, spits into his hand, and gets to work. When Brad touches himself, he does it like a chore, just keeps his eyes open long enough to make sure he’s doing it right. He doesn’t like looking at his dick. It’s not much to look at anyway, short, curved upward, surrounded by thick, dark hair.“I can look?” Terry asks.“Uh huh.” Out of his peripheral, Brad can see Terry’s head turn, just a little.“Shit, dude, you’re big.” Brad’s face flashes hot.“No, I’m not. Yours is bigger.”“Longer, maybe. Yours is thick though.” Brad doesn’t respond. “It’s nice. I like it.” Brad thinks of saying “thanks” or “you too” or something else polite, but he decides that would make it weird. He says nothing. He just looks Terry in the eyes, glances down to Terry’s dick, to his own.“You doing okay? You’re quiet.” Terry asks.“Yeah,” Brad says to both.“You into dirty talk?”“Sure.”“I want your cock in me.” Brad’s throat tightens all at once, and his stomach turns, and it’s not a bad feeling, it’s good even, but it’s a lot. Terry says it so easily, almost casually, a little bit of a laugh, and Brad doesn’t know how to respond, but it’s okay because Terry is still talking. “Like, I wanted it before, but, now that I’ve seen it, I want it so bad.” He smiles, but it’s different than usual. “I bet it feels so good. You could make me come so easily.”“Holy shit,” Brad whispers.“Yeah?” Terry asks, something low and sly and teasing in his voice. Brad doesn’t answer. He leans into Terry, takes his jaw in his spit-slick hand, and pulls him into a kiss. Terry hums into Brad’s mouth. The kiss breaks only so Terry can speak.“I wanna touch you.” It’s both a statement and a question. Brad considers it for a moment before nodding, whispering affirmation. Terry eases Brad’s knees open and wedges himself between them. Their hips line up imperfectly, dicks resting against one another, mismatched. Brad reaches to hold them, but Terry pushes his hand away. “I got it. Don’t worry.” Brad nods and watches as Terry takes their cocks in his hand. Little by little, the space between the two of them closes until their foreheads touch, and Brad can feel Terry’s breath on his skin.“This okay?”“Yeah,” he says. Terry’s forehead moves against his own. Brad glances up to see that Terry is already watching him.“I just want you to feel good, dude,” Terry says softly. His voice is kind, almost sad. “You deserve it.” Brad wants to argue because he doesn’t. He doesn’t deserve it, and he knows Terry means every word he says, but he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get why Terry has stayed with him for so long, after seeing him at his worst, too sick to move from withdrawal, covered in blood from beating his friend’s face in with a spiked club, mid-panic attack because of something he saw, thought he saw, half-remembered.“Hey, you doing okay?” Terry asks, the hand on their cocks slowing. Brad takes a deep breath that he didn’t know he needed. His head buzzes as if all the energy that was supposed to go into breathing had gone straight to his skull. He closes his eyes.“Hey, can we...”“Need to stop?” Brad nods, and Terry backs off. He feels Terry separate from him, the memory of skin against skin being replaced by a cool nothing.“I wanna keep going. Just- just give me a second.”“Yeah, no worries.” Brad focuses on breathing.“It’s a lot, you know?” he says at last.“Yeah, definitely.”“I start thinking, and, like…” He sighs.“You’re preaching to the choir over here, man. I’m nervous, like, one hundred percent of the time, but it’s more than just nervous. It’s, like, a completely different emotion. It feels like I’m dying,” Terry says with a little laugh as if to soften the blow.“What do you do for it?”“Cry?” Terry laughs again. Something pangs in Brad’s chest, sharp. “I don’t know. I used to be on a bunch of meds for it, but, like, they never fixed it.” He pauses, reconsiders. “Fixed isn’t the right word. I’m not broken, but, like, you know what I mean?”“Yeah.” Brad takes another deep breath before he opens his eyes. Terry is sitting right in front of him, never really gone. “It feels like you are.” A pause. Then, he adds, “Feels like I am right now.”“You’re not,” Terry says, and there’s something too soft, too dangerous in his tone. Brad shrugs a “let’s not talk about it” shrug. Terry nods, understands, but he reaches forward to hold Brad’s hand, first with one hand and then with both. His thumbs trace over the back of his hand, over his bruised knuckles. It’s nice.“You wanna keep going?” Brad asks.“You good?”“Yeah.” Terry nods and reclaims his place between Brad’s legs. His hand wastes no time in resuming its quick pace on their cocks.“Kiss me,” he says, and Brad takes him by the jaw until their lips are pressed together, little, closed-mouth kisses that give way to tongues and clicking teeth, gasps as the hand loses its rhythm. Terry breaks the kiss first. “Shit, sorry, I’m gonna come.”“Okay,” Brad says.“Sorry. I’ll get you off. I promise.”“It’s fine, Terr. Really.”“Oh, fuck,” Terry whispers, a hitch in his voice, and Brad isn’t sure what it’s in response to until he says it again, fuck, his eyes screwed tight and his lips red, saliva-wet, parted just enough so that Brad can see his teeth. When Terry comes, Brad feels it first, a solid twitch. “Fuck!” Terry’s voice is somewhere between a shout and a sob. Brad instinctively pulls him into his neck in an attempt to muffle him, but the tension is already fading from Terry’s shoulders, and, when Brad looks down, he can see a heavy rivulet of come dripping down the length of Terry’s cock, a few more weak spurts as he strokes himself through his orgasm.“Fuck,” Terry says, a soft satisfaction in his voice, and, then, “Shit. Sorry. I wanted that to be more for you, and, like…”“It’s fine. It takes me a long time to get there,” Brad says. Terry pulls away from Brad’s neck only to place a soft kiss on his lips. When their eyes finally catch, Terry’s smiling.“We’ve got time. Want me to keep going like this, or…”“This is good.”“Alright,” Terry says, and the two separate for a moment. “Let me just…” Terry moves back to the pack by the fire and fishes out a few scraps of cloth to clean himself off with. When he returns, he doesn’t sit between Brad’s legs but rather under his arm, his head on Brad’s chest. He takes Brad’s dick in one hand and strokes it, not too fast, not too slow. He glances up every now and again."You’re so quiet,” Terry says again. “Am I doing okay?”“Yeah.”“Are my handjob skills, like, lacking? Do I need to go back to, like, handjob college? Get my BH? My Bachelor of Handjobs?” Brad laughs, a little puff of air. “That was a joke.”“I laughed.”“You were quiet though.”“I’m just quiet,” Brad says, tries to work through his discomfort. “In general. Besides, I sound stupid when I get loud.”“I like the way you sound. It’s hot as hell, dude.” Brad’s sure he makes a face at the word “hot.” It feels incongruous with any other image he’s held of himself, fat, short, weird-looking, not to mention the new scars on his face that he feels more than sees. He doesn’t even want to try to dissect himself to figure out what parts of him could be considered attractive because he’s sure he’d find something new to hate. His stomach gets tight just thinking about it. “You getting uncomfortable again?”“A little bit,” Brad admits.“Sorry. Want me to shut up?”“No,” Brad says. Then, a bit softer, “Talk dirty to me again.” Terry smiles, a little chuckle.“Your cock feels so good in my hand.” Brad exhales, just loud enough to hear, and Terry’s smile widens. He rubs his thumb over the glans, smears the little bit of precome into nothing against his skin. “So fucking warm and thick. This is gonna be all I jerk off to for, like, weeks.” Brad squeezes his eyes shut, lets out a little grunt. “You gonna come, Brad?” Terry asks, and Brad nods. “Yeah, dude, come for me.” It only takes a moment, and Brad’s falling over the edge. He groans, rough and throaty, as he shoots across his stomach, onto his poncho. “Yeah, that’s it. So good.” Brad sighs as Terry milks the last bit of come from him. “So good.”“No more,” Brad murmurs, oversensitive.“No more?” Terry echoes, and he lets go of Brad’s softening cock in favor of rubbing come into the hair on Brad’s stomach. It cools against his skin, uncomfortable but not quite enough to distract from the warm afterglow, the heat of the fire. When he eventually opens his eyes, the fire almost burns his eyes, so he looks down at the mess.“Dammit,” he grumbles.“What?”“It’s all over my clothes.” Terry wipes a bit of come from Brad’s poncho, observes the dark, wet stain left behind.“Whoops. We can get it out, and, if not, maybe you could cover it up with an even grosser stain.” Brad exhales, and it sounds a lot louder than he intended. Everything feels a bit off, his body stiff and clogged and his mind heavier than usual, feelings that only grow more intense with every passing second. “Sorry.”“You don’t have to apologize,” Brad says.“Okay. I’m not sorry then.” Brad smiles, but it’s more out of politeness than anything. Terry notices. “You feeling okay?”“Yeah, I’m just processing, I guess.” Terry nods, but the air around him feels empty, like it’s waiting to be filled by an explanation. Brad’s stomach tightens around a cavernous nothing. “I’m okay. I’ll be okay. I just need to process.”“Okay.” Terry tries to sound comfortable, but the unease shows through, only growing more apparent in the silence that follows. “You wanna talk about something else?” he offers.“Yeah,” Brad says, and, for a moment, he worries that it’s an empty offer, that the situation is too far gone for any conversation, but Terry soon returns with a topic.“Did you know I can’t ride a bike?” he asks.“You can’t?” Brad tries to match his normal tone of voice.“Nope. My parents never taught me when I was a kid. I never even owned one, I don’t think.”“How come?”“I mean, I didn’t have the time. I was in the hospital a lot, so I guess everyone was more worried about, like, ‘Oh, is Terry gonna die?’ rather than, ‘Oh, hey, can Terry do some sick-ass Tony Hawk shit?’ The answer to both is no, by the way.” Brad snorts, and there’s a moment where he wonders if it’s okay for him to laugh, but Terry smiles, looks him in the eye.“You don’t have to do Tony Hawk shit to be able to ride a bike,” Brad says. “You just have to move your feet and stay balanced.”“See, but I can’t even do that! Not at the same time, anyway.”“Have you ever tried?” Brad asks.“Yes!” Terry laughs. He’s getting animated now, miming a pair handlebars and shimmying his shoulders as he continues, “I was at a party one time in college, and, like, granted, I was shitfaced, but this dude offered to teach me how to ride. I mean, ride a bike. I knew… anyway, I got on, and he was pushing me, and I was doing really good, but, then, he let go, and I just, like, totally ate it in the parking lot. Like, I scraped up my face so bad that I, like, instantly sobered up.”“Did you not have training wheels?”“They don’t make training wheels for grown-ass men!” Terry says, and Brad laughs a silent, closed mouth laugh, just a smile and a shaking in his shoulders. Terry doesn’t say anything after, just smiles and watches Brad for a long while.“I’m feeling better, I think,” Brad says.“Good. I’m glad,” Terry says. “You wanna talk about it?”“I liked it. I just…” He pauses, tries to find the words. “I don’t know. I just felt a little weird afterwards. Not as bad as before, but I needed a little time to cool down.” He pauses again, and he hopes Terry will say something so that he won’t have to keep going, but he doesn’t. “It’s nothing you did. Sometimes,” he swallows hard, forces out his sentences one word at a time. “Even if I like sex stuff, I feel bad about it. Guilty, I guess, maybe, like I did something wrong or will do something wrong or something.” He tries to go over what he has just said, but the words fade quickly from his memory, and the ones that remain sound not quite right, too simple to address the feeling. Nothing comes to replace them. He just sighs. “I don’t know. There’s a lot of stuff I don’t know how to explain.”“No, that makes sense,” Terry says in his serious and respectful way that instantly smooths the rough frustration in Brad’s mind. It almost makes Brad envious how easily the right words come for him. “You didn’t do anything wrong though. I promise.” Brad nods acknowledgement. Terry says nothing for a moment as if to open the floor for discussion before moving on to the next topic, but Brad has nothing left to say. Not now. “Would you want to do it again?” Terry asks. “Not right now. I mean ever. With me.” Brad thinks hard, pushes through the lingering not-quite-guilt and tries to focus on the now, the good.“Yeah,” he says, a little nod. “Yeah. I think so, yeah.” Terry smiles. “Do you want me to teach you how to ride a bike?”“I don’t know, man. Bikes have betrayed me once before. Would it be on the little bike?” Terry asks.“It’s a shorter distance to fall,” Brad reminds him. Terry giggles, pulling his knees up to his chest.“I’ll think about it.” “Woo! That adrenaline though!” Terry laughs, popping his shoulder as he stands over what’s left of the Road Scholars. “Did you see with the- with the guy with the bat? He went, like, right for my face. I swear to God, I saw my life flash before my eyes.”“How was it?” Queen Roger asks.“Almost getting hit in the face or my life? Because the answer is the same for both.” Queen chuckles and takes a seat beside the mouth of the cave to Factory Town. Fly dangles his feet from the edge of the cliff. “You guys doing okay?”“Eh,” Queen says, lighting a cigarette.“I think I have a rock in my shoe,” Fly says.“Let’s take a little break,” Brad suggests. The gang mumbles assent before settling into relative silence.“Hey,” Terry says. “You wanna go somewhere?” Brad glances over, checks to see if anyone is watching. No one is; Fly is busy casting pebbles off the cliff, listening as they click down the mountainside, and, if it weren’t for the lit cigarette dangling from his lips, Queen could be asleep.“Sure.” The two shuffle off towards the mouth of the tunnel. Queen opens his eyes as they round the corner, gives them a look that sets Brad on edge, but he tries to ignore it. It takes a while for Brad’s eyes to adjust, and he can only tell where Terry is in relation to him by the sound of his footsteps or when their hands bump together. Summer sweat cools on his skin until he can feel himself shiver. He waits until they’re completely surrounded by the dark of the cave to speak.“You think Queen knows?” he asks. Terry snorts.“About us? Oh, definitely.” Brad doesn’t answer at first, takes a moment to think about us. It isn’t the first time he’s considered it. From the moment he met Terry, he had been reluctant to think about the two of them as a unit. Finding Buddy was a mission for him, his chance to make things right. But, sure enough, Terry had been with him from the beginning, from the moment Brad found Cheeks and was too concerned with finding Buddy to remember to bury one of his best friends to the first few nights where they slept, too-close, in a stranger’s tent to when Terry helped him bandage what was left of his arm, the arm he had given up for him, to their first kiss. It had been the two of them for a while now. Still, Brad can’t help but think about how long they will stay together, how long they can ride this out, how faint Terry’s heartbeat feels when Brad lays his head on his chest, the knowledge that Brad could have let him die. But, before he can say any of this, Terry laughs. “Dude, we aren’t subtle.” Brad hums in response. “You embarrassed?”“No,” Brad says, “Just thinking.”“About what?”“Us.”“What do you think?”“I like us.”“I do too.” Terry touches Brad’s hand, slow as not to startle him, fingers intertwining. Terry leans into him, close enough that he can feel Terry’s breath against his whiskers, and they linger there for a moment before he kisses him. Their hands detach, moving to each other’s backs as they drift backwards until Brad’s back hits stone. A cool wet seeps in through his poncho, but it’s not enough to distract him from the sensation of Terry’s hand, his warm, dry skin, tracing his spine. Brad rests his weight against the wall of the tunnel, pulls Terry as close as he can manage, and gets lost in the other man’s lips. Technically speaking, Terry isn’t a great kisser; he’s actually kind of bad, all tongue and teeth, force and fire, but it’s enough to ease through the tension Brad holds in his muscles, safe and special and nice. He’s almost disappointed when the kiss breaks. Brad expects Terry to say something, to make a little joke, but he doesn’t. He just nuzzles his way past Brad’s beard until his lips are on the bare skin of his neck, and Brad can’t help but gasp. He can feel Terry smile against his skin before sucking a little patch of skin, a wet, popping sound when he releases it only to scrape at it with his teeth, give it little kisses before sucking at it again. Brad squirms, urging Terry closer.“That feel good?” Terry asks. His thigh is wedged between Brad’s legs, and Brad knows he can feel how hard he is. He nods anyway. “You see why I like it so much when you do it to me?” Brad nods. “You want me to keep going?” Brad nods, makes a little sound that feels like a yes. Terry obliges, lavishing Brad’s neck with kisses and little bites. Brad just tries to keep composure. He tries to choke on the sounds in his throat, to keep himself from grinding against Terry’s leg. His fingers dig into Terry’s back as he breathes hard, steady, stomach heaving. He jumps when Terry squeezes his ass, lets out a moan.“Hey, Brad?” He pulls back to look him in the face. “I could suck your dick if you want.” Brad jolts, and he’s not sure why. This isn’t the first time someone has offered to do this for him, and he’s accepted without a second thought before. But, when Terry asks, the words are electric.“Do you want to?” he asks, a tremble as he inhales.“I want it real bad,” Terry murmurs, a dry little laugh. He’s already sinking down to his knees, and, wow, this is happening. Terry’s looking up at him with his big, dark eyes, a little smile, as he unbuttons Brad’s pants. Brad runs his hand over his own scalp, inhales. He looks upwards, traces the stalactites. He tries to imagine running his fingers over them like the popcorn ceiling at his childhood home, but the image quickly overstays its welcome, and he returns to the one that is good-overwhelming. He looks back to Terry who hasn’t moved since he’s looked away. “I’ve thought about it before. A lot.”“Yeah?” Brad asks, and he’s about to say something else, but Terry’s lips are on his inner thigh. He kisses him gently, open-mouthed, teeth scraping lightly over skin. His breath blows, cool, over the saliva on Brad’s skin, and Brad chokes on his own breath. Terry pulls back for a moment to look up at Brad, waiting for a sign. “Keep going,” he whispers. Terry leans back into him as he buries his face in between Brad’s thigh and groin, drags his tongue over the crease. Brad shifts his weight back and forth and spreads his legs a little wider. Terry shifts his attention from Brad’s thighs to his balls, sucking one into his mouth. Brad clasps his hand over his mouth in an attempt to hold in a groan.“You can make noise,” Terry says.“Trying to keep it quiet so no one hears,” Brad answers.“I want them to hear. I like it.”“We just got out of one fight. I don’t wanna get in another with my dick out,” Brad mumbles, but Terry just laughs and moves on to place little, open-mouthed kisses at the base of Brad’s dick. He licks a path towards the head, his tongue flat against the vein. He kisses the head of his dick the same way he had his thighs, slow, more lips than tongue, before taking it into his mouth. He sinks down on it, hands braced against Brad’s thighs, tongue running along the underside of the shaft. Brad places his hand on the back of Terry’s head, tangling his fingers in his soft hair. “This okay?” Brad asks.“Uh huh,” Terry whispers before flicking his tongue over the slit, barely giving Brad time to catch his breath before taking it down to the root. Brad can feel his dick hit the back of Terry’s throat, hot and slick and impossibly tight, for just a second before Terry pulls back so he can cough.“Jesus, Terr.” Terry chuckles and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand before making another attempt. He swirls his tongue around the tip. This time, when he sinks down on Brad’s cock, he takes it all the way into his throat, his nose pressed into Brad’s pubic hair. He holds there for a moment, eyes focused upward. Then, he pulls back only to slide back down on it. Terry moans, and Brad can feel his eyes roll back. He can’t help but buck into his mouth. Terry lets out choking sound as his throat tightens around him, and, instantly, Brad knows that he fucked up, that he hurt Terry, that this was a mistake, and all he does is hurt people. He goes into repair mode, panic rising in his voice as he all but pushes Terry off his dick. “Shit, are you okay? I'm so sorry.” Terry inhales audibly, but he nods.“I’m good,” he breathes, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand again. His sentences come out all at once, the only punctuation separating them sharp inhales. “That was good. You can do it rougher if you want.” Brad shakes his head, and he feels like he’s about to cry again, and he knows that’s just going to make things worse, but he doesn’t know what else he can do.“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t-”“Hey,” Terry says, taking Brad’s hand in his. “Hey, it’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m fine. You don’t have to be afraid of hurting me, dude. Promise,” he says, and, with a wink, he adds, “This isn’t my first rodeo.” Brad feels the beginning of another apology coming on, but Terry just repeats, “Hey,” a little sound like echolocation, bouncing back and confirming that he is there, he is there, he is there. He takes Brad’s hand with both of his, squeezes him. The panic fades slowly, shrinks back to wherever it hides within him. Brad inhales, exhales.“You’ll let me know if you want to stop?” Brad asks, and he already knows the answer, but he needs to hear it.“Of course. I’ll let you know.” Brad nods, and he tries to swallow through the knot in his throat. “Put your hand back in my hair.” Brad does what he’s told. Terry’s hands get back to work, one reaching to massage Brad’s balls and the other giving his cock a few good pumps before holding it firm at the base and taking it back into his mouth. He sucks hard on the head before releasing it with a loud, wet pop, and, then, it’s back in his throat. Brad looks down, hunting for Terry’s eyes in the dark. When he finds them, Terry gives a little nod. It’s okay. It’s fine. Brad gives a few shallow thrusts. Terry moans again, and Brad feels the vibration travel up his spine. He lets himself fuck Terry’s mouth, not too rough, but it’s still almost too much, like it shouldn’t be possible for something to feel this good, and, when Brad looks down, Terry’s rubbing himself through his pants, and, fuck, fuck, fuck-Brad comes, hard, down Terry’s throat, pulls back over his tongue, his lips. It registers to him, split screen, half Terry’s face, half bleached, light-headed, nothing. He tilts his head back and enjoys the feeling blind. Terry coughs as Brad tucks himself back into his pants. When he finally looks back down, Terry is looking up at him. He sticks out his tongue like a girl in a porno, and, God, Brad doesn’t know where Terry learned that, but the image makes something within him twitch.“Let me get you.” Brad eases himself down to his knees, and he watches as Terry unbuttons his pants just enough to free his cock.“So polite!” Terry laughs, his voice a little raw. He coughs into his elbow, and, once his throat is clear, he turns back to Brad and smiles. Brad smiles back, just a little. He leans forward to kiss Terry, slow and contented, Terry’s hands settling on Brad’s back as Brad jerks him off. Brad can taste himself on Terry’s tongue, a bite of salt. He grimaces, but it isn’t enough to detract from how pleasantly warm Terry’s body is in the cool of the cave, the afterglow content, the way the dark almost fools him into believing they’re okay. It only takes a minute for Terry to come, moaning into Brad’s mouth.Afterwards, they sit beside each other, silent, Terry’s head on Brad’s shoulder. It’s at least ten degrees colder in the cave, and what was originally a comforting cool begins to bite at his fingers, his damp back.“You feeling okay?” Terry asks. His voice has something thick to it like the air before a thunderstorm, like his lungs are full of water.“Yeah.” Mostly true. The discomfort is a small, familiar, enough for Brad to process or even forget if he turns his attention to something else, something like the strange tone in Terry’s voice. “What about you?”“Yeah, that was really good. I’m tired now,” he says. A little laugh. “Not, like, fall asleep tired, but, like, I wanna curl up and watch some TV, you know?”“You sound sad,” Brad says.“Nah,” Terry says, but Brad can still hear it. “It was really nice.” A long pause. “It hasn’t been that nice in a while, you feel?”“What do you mean?”“I don’t know.” But Terry does know, and it only takes a moment for him to find the words. “Is it weird that I didn’t expect, like, reciprocation? Like, I’m more of a giver, I guess. You returning the favor kind of threw me off.”“Did you not want me to?”“No, no, I liked it. It just was unexpected. Like, most of the guys I’ve been with wouldn’t have done that.” He takes a moment to shape his next thought into a sentence. “A lot of stuff wasn’t really mutual, you know? It’s just got me thinking now. Like, I wish…” Brad can hear the rest of the sentence get caught in Terry’s throat, too dangerous to speak aloud. He swallows it down. “I don’t know. Sorry. That’s a bummer, huh?” he says, and he laughs again, but it’s different. “You’re a really nice dude. I liked it. That’s all I’m saying.” Brad feels like there’s something that should fill in the blank here, a conversation that needs to be had, but he doesn’t know what it is. He’s never been good at comforting words, not for Rick or Sticky or even Buddy. He just does what he always does: he changes the subject.“Come closer. It’s cold.” He offers Terry an arm, and, to his relief, he accepts it, rests his weight against him. They stay there like that for a long while before they hear Queen and Fly shouting at each other from beyond the mouth of the cave. Slowly, joints popping, they make their way back into the outside world. It’s dark when they finally get to the inn, all tired, all bloody, all too worn down to talk. Brad fumbles his way through a conversation with the innkeeper before handing him the mags and trudging his way up to the room. Brad is relieved to find that no one else is there. Fly flops into the first bed he comes across, squirms until he’s managed to pull the blankets completely over his head. He doesn’t take his mask off. Queen takes up the bed on the opposite end of the room. Brad goes for somewhere in the middle. He sits on the bed, inspecting his bruised knuckles, the stab wound from a fight two days before, slowly healing over. He only looks up when Terry sits on the bed across from him. Terry smiles at him before he lies down, buries himself beneath the covers. No need for a lookout tonight.Sleep doesn’t come easy for Brad. It never has. For days, his body has ached for sleep, for a bed, for a moment where he wouldn't have to think. Now, though, he tosses in bed, tries to find the perfect arrangement of thin, worn pillows and ratty blanket. Nothing works. He lies flat on his back and stares at the ceiling, the gaps in the wood that makes up both the ceiling and the floor for the level above this one. He finds his breath, loses it, finds it again. He wonders how much time has passed, if lying still for long enough still counts as sleeping, but he tries not to wonder for too long for risk of wondering about the wrong thing.“You still up?” Terry asks. The relief Brad feels is only dampened by how exhausted he is.“Yep.”“You can’t sleep either?” Brad rolls over to find that Terry is already staring at him from the space between their beds. His face is pressed into the mattress so that only his left eye is visible.“I probably could if I tried.”“The rest of us probably could if you shut up,” Fly grumbles from across the room. Terry rolls his eyes, but the two fall silent. For a long while, they just stare at each other across the space between their beds and try to have conversations with just their eyes. Brad looks up at the ceiling, and Terry's eyes follow. Brad wonders if there's someone on the third floor. Terry glances down at the floor, looks back up at Brad, and makes an expression as if to say, "yikes," maybe at the day past, maybe at the innkeeper, maybe at something else. Brad cannot tell. Every now and then, Terry smiles, and Brad smiles back, just a little.“Fly?” Terry asks after what feels like hours of silence. No response. “Okay, I think he’s out.”“Why can’t you sleep?” Terry shrugs with one shoulder. Brad feels like there should be a space in between what he’s said and what he wants to say, something transitional, but he can’t find it. “Can I come over?”“Come on down,” Terry says, and he scoots closer to the end of the bed to allow Brad a little space. Brad lies down, facing Terry. Terry smiles with half of his face. “I think maybe I can’t sleep in a bed anymore. Maybe I’m too used to the ground now.”“You think?”“Maybe.” This close up, he can see part of the hidden part of Terry’s face.“Let me see your eye,” Brad says.“Is it fucked up bad?” Terry asks, lifting his head from the mattress. His eye is blue or maybe purple, some color lost in the darkness between them, sclera partially stained red.“It’s not awful,” Brad says. “Does it hurt?”“Not too bad. What about your hand?” Terry asks. Brad is almost confused when he offers forward his hand to let Terry inspect his bruised knuckles. The day feels distant in that moment, the memory of the fight that had left the two of them bruised and exhausted only barely reaching the present moment. Terry frowns as he holds Brad’s hand in his.“A little worse for the wear, but I’ll survive,” Brad says. Terry smiles, scans him in the middle dark. His hand drifts upwards, over Brad’s wrist until settling on his upper arm. He traces his thumb over a patch of flesh, healed over pink and raised and strange-textured, repeats the gesture several times until he is sure of it.“You have a scar right here.”“That’s been there for a while,” Brad replies. Terry runs his thumb over the scar, slower this time, as if committing it to memory.“I never noticed it,” he says.“I’ve got a lot.”“Let me see.”“It’s too dark for you to see some of them,” Brad says, but he pulls his poncho over his head anyway, lets it fall around what’s left of his left arm. He looks down to his ribs, moves his arm so that Terry can get a better view of the decade-old ghost of a stab wound, long and white and narrow. “You see this one?”“Yeah,” Terry says softly. He runs his fingertips over the valley in the flesh, almost reverent. Brad expects him to ask questions about how he got the scar, but he doesn’t. He just feels, and, when he’s satisfied, he moves on, follows the trail of Brad’s ribs down to his stomach in search of another scar. He finds one, a little spot on Brad’s stomach that he doesn’t quite remember how he got, and gives it the same careful treatment.“A couple of them are hidden under the hair,” Brad says. Terry nods, feels his way upward, over Brad’s chest and up to his shoulder where he finds a broad swath of scab, rough and flaky.“This one’s probably gonna scar up too,” Terry says, his voice low enough that Brad wonders if he even meant to say it out loud, but he answers anyway.“I think I got a couple that will.” He thinks about his face, the spot between his finger and thumb where, in the scuffle-rush, he had tried to stop a knife with his hand, the spot on his back where Terry had attempted to stitch up a bullet wound. “Got one here too from when I was real little. Under the beard.” Brad points to a spot just by his chin where a beer bottle had once hit, and Terry reaches towards the finger, cards through his beard as if trying to locate it by touch. Brad knows Terry doesn’t feel it; the unsatisfied curiosity lingers on his face even as his hand drifts further from the scar, towards Brad’s cheek where he works his busy hands through his beard. He’s thinking something heavy. Brad can feel it, but, when their eyes meet, the silence is too much to cut through, and he doesn’t ask.He moves his face closer to Terry’s, their noses almost touching. They drift together little by little, and, then, they’re kissing, slow and natural and comfortable. Terry rolls onto his back, pulling Brad on top of him. They try to negotiate a comfortable position as best they can without breaking the kiss, Brad shifting his weight back and forth, Terry squirming until Brad is firmly between his legs. He bucks his hips up, and Brad grinds his down in response, hard contact that coaxes sound from them both. Soon, they aren’t even kissing, just breathing into each other’s mouths as they rut against each other, and Brad doesn’t know how it happened, but it doesn’t matter. He can feel how hard Terry is, can hear the sounds he makes with every movement, feel his nails digging into his back. Brad’s so aroused that it almost hurts, but he draws this out for as long as he can before he finally pulls away only to find that Terry is already looking up at him. He can tell they’re both thinking the same thing, but there’s still a bit of uncertainty, the question of if it’s okay, of who’s going to say something first.“What?” Brad asks. It isn’t what he wants to say, comes out ungentle and unconfident and very, very unsexy, but it doesn’t seem to bother Terry.“I want you to fuck me so bad,” he says.“Okay,” Brad answers.“Do you want to?” Terry asks.“I just said that I did.”“We don’t have a condom,” Terry says. Brad can’t tell if he’s actually concerned or if he’s just offering Brad an out. Maybe both.“Doesn’t matter,” Brad says. He tries to think of something else to say, something about how they’re most likely past the point of caring about safe sex anyway, but he decides against it. “I want to.”“Alright,” Terry says, and Brad can see the anxiety soften in his face. “Cool. Awesome. I’ve got the stuff in the bag. Let me just…” Brad nods and sits upright, letting Terry roll off the bed and pad his way across the gap between beds. He digs through the backpack sitting on Brad’s bed.“Just don’t expect too much,” Brad says as Terry returns to sit beside him.“You’re fine,” Terry says, and he reaches down to palm at the bulge in Brad’s pants. Brad exhales. He places a hand on Terry’s waist, and, as he settles into the familiar touch, it trails down to work clumsily at the button of Terry’s pants. “I got it.” Brad apologizes again, and he watches as Terry unbuttons his pants and shimmies them off his hips. He’s wearing a pair of threadbare red briefs that Brad quickly pulls down to expose Terry’s aching cock. He spits into his hand and gives it a few good strokes. Terry gives a nervous little laugh that trails off onto a long “ohh.” He tilts his head back as a hand slips underneath his shirt, works in circles at his chest. Brad’s eyes dart from the hand, Terry’s face, his dick. Terry looks up, a little smile, the hand beneath his shirt moving to touch Brad’s forearm. “Hey, this is good, but, like, do you want to keep going?”“Yeah. Sure.” Brad releases Terry’s cock and watches as he kicks off his underwear. Brad realizes that he’s never seen Terry completely naked. His legs are long and pale in the moonlight, covered in hair that suddenly becomes several shades darker just below his knees. He’d never thought of Terry as particularly muscular, but he’s almost surprised to see the softness of Terry’s inner thighs. “Take your shirt off too,” Brad says. For a moment, Terry looks like he’s going to protest, but he pulls his tank top over his head and lets it fall to the floor. He looks up at Brad as if waiting for a reaction, but Brad doesn’t know quite what to say. He places his hand just below Terry’s collarbone, familiar territory that he’s seen from beneath the low collar of his shirt, and traces a path down over his chest, soft like his thighs, only a sparse patch of hair between the soft peaks of his breast. A long and surgical line, time faded, perfectly bisects his torso, running from just below the dip of his collarbone to just inches above his navel. Brad doesn’t ask. He runs a thumb over Terry’s nipple, over the bone-close skin of his ribs, the paunch of his stomach and the little patch of hair that runs down from his navel.“You’re pretty.” Terry looks away, but he smiles, a hint of teeth. “Fuck, that’s not a good compliment for a guy, is it?”“Pretty’s good.” Terry gaze turns back to Brad’s face, and he presses a chaste kiss to his lips. They look each other as if unsure of what to do, but, then, Terry reaches for the bottle of lube. It opens with a click, and he squeezes out a generous amount in his hand. He lies on his back, holds his legs back to give Brad the full view. He’s a lot more flexible than Brad expects him to be at his age, but he doesn’t say anything for risk of ruining the moment somehow. Terry hisses as he eases his finger in, starting with his middle but quickly adding his index. His face wrinkles as he scissors his fingers, works himself deeper.“You want me to help?”“Nah, I got it. Just give me a second.” Brad reaches for the bottle of lube and squirts a little bit into his hand. He almost jumps as he touches his cock, the liquid still cool enough to send a chill down his spine, but it’s quickly replaced by a bright feeling in his gut as he begins to jerk himself off. He works in slow, even strokes, something in the back of his mind telling him to pace himself. The image of Terry adding a third finger as he stretches himself open is already a lot to take in, and Brad is suddenly a little unsure of how long he can last. “Good enough,” Terry laughs. “Good enough. You ready?” Brad nods.Terry holds his legs back, watches as Brad walks forward on his knees, holds his dick by the base. He lines himself up and places the tip at Terry’s entrance before pushing in until he’s about halfway inside him. “Hoo boy… Wow,” Terry says, and he sounds a little short of breath as he laughs. He covers his eyes with his hand and adds, “I forgot how thick you are.”“You good?” Brad rubs the jut of Terry’s hipbone.“Just go slow.” Brad nods, pulls out and pushes back in, and Terry’s expression changes into something maybe-good maybe-bad. He rests his legs on Brad’s shoulders, rolls his hips experimentally. Brad pays close attention to his movements, tries to go as slowly as he can in spite of the tension in his shoulders, the heat in the pit of his stomach spurring him onward.“Does it hurt?” he asks.“A little. It hurts, but it feels really good.”“Am I doing it wrong?” Brad asks, concerned.“No, you’re doing great. You’re just thick.”“You wanna stop?”“Fuck no, dude. Just give me a little more lube.” Brad nods and reaches for the bottle, squeezes a little bit onto the place where their bodies meet and pushes into him again. It seems to go easier with every thrust, Terry’s body adjusting until he’s letting out little sighs and rocking his hips against Brad’s. “Okay, keep going,” he whispers. Brad assumes that means faster, and he obliges, leans forward and fucks into him proper. Terry can’t seem to figure out what to do with his hands, pushing back his bangs, holding onto Brad’s arm, jerking his dick in time with Brad’s thrusts, and he cranes his neck up as if to try to catch a glimpse of Brad going into him. Then, Brad thrusts in, and Terry tenses, eyes rolling back. “O-oh, fuck, that’s perfect. Right there.”“That your spot?” Brad says, his voice low. Terry’s legs are scrabbling for purchase, and he hides his face in his palm.“Shit, yeah, fuck, I need it.” He’s short of breath, his words tangling together with every thrust.“You feel so good, Terr,” Brad murmurs, and Terry gasps a smile.“Brad, dude, let me…” Brad eases back as Terry sits upright. “Lay back. Let me.” Brad does what he’s told and lies down. Terry clambers over him until he’s settled, kneeling, over Brad. Terry reaches down to hold his cock upright, lining up their bodies, and, while Brad has a feeling that he knows what’s happening next, it’s still almost too much when Terry sinks down onto him until his ass is flush with Brad’s hips.“Shit,” Brad groans. Terry rocks against him, slow at first. He leans back, hands gripping Brad’s thighs as he fucks himself onto his cock, lets out little, breathy moans.“Yeah?” he asks. Brad nods, just a little. He shifts his weight forward until his face hovers above Brad’s, his hands on either side of Brad’s head, hips never losing their slow and heavy pace. He seems to have lost the direct pressure on his prostate, but his breathing is still ragged, and he seems entirely focused on the task at hand. “This feel good?”“Yeah,” Brad answers. His voice is barely a whisper. He doesn’t even know if Terry can hear him. He nods again just to be sure.“You like this?” Terry asks, and, at this point, Brad can tell he’s teasing him. “You want me to stop?”“Terry,” Brad says, and he’s almost embarrassed how desperate he sounds.“Tell me.” Brad swallows, licks his lips, tries to mentally compose his voice. He reaches up to guide Terry’s head downward until their noses graze against one another. His hand travels up the back of Terry’s neck, into his hair.“So good,” Brad whispers. He can feel Terry’s breath, his smile, the heat welling up in every part of him. Brad kisses Terry, just once. “Please don’t stop.” There’s a pause, a hesitation, and Terry is no longer smiling, and there’s something sharp and tender in the space between him. From this angle, he can’t see Terry’s whole face, just his cheek, the dark corona around his eye, the top part of his lips. Brad worries he’s said something wrong until Terry speaks again.“Put your hand here.” He guides Brad’s hand back to his hip, lets him feel out the motion as he grinds harder. Brad’s fingers dig into Terry’s skin, and there are moments where he feels like he’s the one guiding Terry’s hips, that he’s in control, but the feeling doesn’t last for long before Terry moves just right and leaves Brad gasping. “My legs are getting tired. Can you give it to me from behind?” Terry asks.“Sure.” Brad gives Terry a gentle tap on the thigh, and Terry sits up, wincing as Brad’s dick slips out of him. Brad rolls himself over as the other man dismounts, and he gets himself up on his knees. The mattress is hard on his joints, but he can’t imagine how this would have gone if they were out in the wasteland. Terry, meanwhile, rolls himself over onto his stomach, props his ass up into the air, looks back over his shoulder with a smile. Brad’s mind is flooded with the image, and he swims through all the things he wants to do, places he wants to touch, to kiss, to lick, but he’s too embarrassed to try or even ask. He settles on giving his dick a few lazy strokes before walking forward on his knees to meet him. He rests the tip on the cleft of Terry’s ass before guiding it in with his hand, and he lets out a little sigh as he feels himself surrounded in the heat, the pressure. He gives a few thrusts, but he can feel something within him twisting too tight.“I’m kind of getting there,” Brad says, placing his hand on Terry’s back.“Yeah, me too.” Terry pauses, and Brad can’t see his face, but he can tell he’s thinking. “Come inside me.”“You sure?”“I want it so bad,” Terry whispers, smiling, earnest. “It’s all yours, dude.” Brad isn’t sure what he means by that last part, but he nods anyway and his hand slides down to hold fast to Terry’s hip. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to, like, make you uncomfortable, but could you please pull my hair? Just a little?” Brad nods, reaches forward, and grabs a handful of hair not too close to the scalp. Terry hums. “Little harder?” Brad tightens his fist, pulls back enough to feel the tug, and Terry hisses an inhale, fuck yes thank you thank you thank you. He pushes himself back against Brad’s cock and rolls his hips. Brad pulls back harder, forces Terry’s neck into an arch, and Brad can’t help but think how much it has to hurt, but Terry moans with every thrust, whispers praise in the in-betweens. He only lets go when he feels Terry gasp. “Fuck, right there.” Brad moves to grip Terry’s hip tighter and holds him still as he slams into him. Terry hides his face in the crook of his elbow, his fingers digging into whatever they can find. It’s loud, probably too loud, but it’s too late to care.“Oh my God,” Terry murmurs, his shoulders hunching as his face buries its way deeper into the crook of his elbow. His voice is muffled and utterly wrecked. “You’re gonna make me come.” That almost does it for Brad then and there. He has to pull back until only the head of his cock is still inside Terry, breathe hard through his nose, and try to force the heat down. “No, no, no, don’t stop. Keep going,” Terry whispers, a sharp whine in his voice. “I’m almost there. Please. You gotta-“ Brad grits his teeth, thrusts in hard, and Terry’s pleading cuts off with a choked-out “fuck!” Their bodies collapse downward as Brad drives into him at a quick and desperate pace. Brad’s hand has moved from Terry’s hip to the space beside him, and Terry has sunken down to the point that the only thing keeping his hips in the air is the hand working his cock.They don’t last long. Terry comes with a shout that carries throughout the room in spite of how hard his face is pressed into his arm. His body clenches around Brad’s length, a shudder wracking through him. That’s what does Brad in, something giving out as a bomb blast heat goes off in the pit of his stomach. He lets out a gasp that gives way to a low groan as his come spills down Terry’s thighs.Brad collapses to the side, pulling Terry with him until they settle, spent, in a sort of awkward spooning position. It’s too hot, and Brad can swear he can hear someone moving across the room, but he’s too fucked out to give it much thought.“Don’t pull out yet,” Terry says, and Brad can hear the exhaustion in his voice, the same exhaustion that is slowly settling upon him like a shroud. He just nods against Terry’s shoulder blade, and the room settles back into silence. The sex sweat dries against their skin only to give way to the stagnant heat of the inn, of too many bodies in the same room. “You feeling okay?” Brad nods. For the moment, the only things he feels is tired, orgasm dimmed into something pleasantly cool and dark, and something quieter, a worry that this feeling won’t last for long. He tries to press the latter down enough so that it doesn’t ruin the moment. “Good.” He laughs, less a sound than a motion. Brad does his best to pull him closer with one hand.“How about you?” Brad asks.“Really good. That was really good.” Brad squeezes Terry closer in response. “We should probably put some clothes on,” Terry says, but neither of them move. “Tired.” A question and a statement. Brad nods. Eventually, Terry wiggles from Brad’s grip and slides off the bed. He gathers their clothes off the floor and throws them to Brad, who watches as Terry cleans himself off and shimmies back into his pants before finally deciding to do the same. When they’re done, Terry rejoins Brad on the bed just as before, his back to him. Brad wraps his arm around him and debates whether he should fall asleep here or try to make it back into his own bed. He still hasn’t decided when Terry speaks again.“You still like me, right?” he asks, a translucent tone to his voice like he’s joking, something bright painted over rotting wood. Brad feels it. He opens his eyes.“I like you a lot,” Brad says. He means it. He’s too tired to lie. Terry seems to think about Brad’s response for a long while.“I like you too.” Terry rolls over so that they lie face to face, but he doesn’t meet Brad’s gaze. He presses his face into his neck, wedges himself into the gaps between Brad’s body and the bed until he is smothering against him.“Are you okay?” Brad asks. He tries to move back so he can better see Terry’s face, but Terry clings fast to him, shakes his head. He doesn’t want to be seen. “Terry, what’s wrong?”“Nothing,” Terry says, voice soft and dry. “Happy, I think.” Brad believes him, but he doesn’t, understands, but doesn’t. The space between them is imperfect: too close but, somehow, not close enough. For a second, Brad is unsure if it can ever be crossed.“Do you need anything?” Brad asks. It’s the only thing he knows to say. Terry shakes his head against Brad’s pulse.“Nah,” he says. “Just stay with me.” And he does.
10357098	Kent	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Clark Kent, Lois Lane", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by CherriesOnTheCake", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-18T00:00:00", "words": "1,468", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Clark Is Human, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Romance, The longest Meet Cute ever", "Relationship": "Clark Kent/Lois Lane", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Man of Steel (2013), Superman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Clark Kent never did manage to live up to his dad's expectations.A sickly kid who grew up into a sickly man, he couldn't join the army, wasn't clever enough for college, and although he loved the farm with all his heart the laundary list of Clark's conditions meant that his dad had long accepted that it'd die with him. There was never much for Jonathan Kent to be proud of when it came to his adopted son.Except one thing.Clark makes a mean cup of tea.Luckily for Clark his dad was the kind of guy, the kind of dad, who didn't need much to be loudly and obnoxiously proud of his son. When Clark worked as a barista for a coffee place in Smallville he'd drive an hour into town every morning to pay three dollars for one of Clark's special tea blends (blends he'd had to fight tooth and nail for the owner to even order in). After the coffee place closed down due to mismanagement he mortgaged the farm so Clark could buy it out, and together they rebuilt it from the bottom up.There's nothing about The Leaf that doesn't remind Clark about his dad. Jonathan Kent's ghost is in the furniture he hand carved, in the kitchen he and Clark spent an entire weekend remodelling. It's even in the car park that they re-paved overnight after one of their regulars tripped over a loose stone. Clark can't stay there after his death. He doesn't know how."He'd understand," Clark's mom strokes back his hair as he reads through the sale contract for the tenth time. "He only ever wanted you to be happy.""I know." It still feels like Clark's failing him somehow, letting him down. After he signs the contract he hides up in his room and cries as quietly as he can under his duvet. Clark wonders if his dad'd still be alive if he was better, healthier, less of a stress to his overworked heart.-/-Metropolis isn't what he expects.It's better because it's new, because there are no memories attached to the shiny glass and concrete buildings here, because his dad doesn't haunt him at every step.It's worse because of the same reason too.He gets a job at an honest to God teahouse about two blocks from the Daily Planet. It's called The Daily T which is an awful name but the owner is young and enthusiastic and gets legitimately excited when she sees Clark's resume."You know The Leaf was the first teahouse in Kansas right? My uncle took me to it when I was a kid. It was after mom died and I became like obsessed with roibos." She plows on before Clark can offer any half-assed platitudes. "It was her favourite. She used to drink it with lemon and a hint of honey...""The Josephine Special," he parrots. It was one of the special blends on the menu boards outside. It's enough to make her smile."I'm Nora," she sticks her hand out and Clark takes it hesitantly. He's always been bad at common courtesies, though his mom says it's more because of a lack of practice than anything else. "Stick around with me Mr Kent and we'll open up your world."As teahouses go The T is pretty popular. Their morning rush starts at 4am when the journalists who've worked all nighters at the Planet start to trickle in for something (anything) that isn't coffee, and the evening rush starts from 6 or 7 depending on whether it's a heavy news night. Nora puts Clark on the cash desk to start, just until he's completed his tea-making training, and after a couple of weeks he starts recognising the regulars.There's the angry bear of a guy who storms into The T like he owns it every evening after work to get 'anything sweet to wash my damn pills down with' and Clark orders him a different fruit tea every time. There's the thin photographer with glasses who likes to take close up portraits of the staff as he waits for his (free) darjeeling every morning. He'll email the photos over to Nora sometimes and if they're good she'll frame them and put them up on the walls.There's the frankly ridiculously tiny spitfire who strolls it at the same time every morning, talking a mile a minute on her cell phone, and checks Clark out every single time before she pauses her conversation to order one of the many 'lattes' on the menu. She makes Clark blush everytime he sees her."You should just ask her out," Nora tells him quietly when they notice her walk in. "Fortune favours the brave right?""Look at her, she'd eat him alive," Fred, one of the assistant managers laughs from the brewing station.Clark might be tall but he's thin, practically skeletal in some places, the Cancer he got as a kid might have been cured but it's left him weak. The muscles damaged. He can't gain weight even when he tries. In his experience women don't like that even when they say they do."It'd be a good way to go," Clark says wistfully, blushing when she checks him out from a distance. Fred laughs as he claps his shoulder, hard."Dream on Kent.""Morning," he smiles at the woman when it's her turn. His world brightens for a moment everytime he sees her. "What can I get you today?""With a smile like that you can get me anything you want, sweetheart." She has red lipstick on today. It's enough to make him stupid because he wants to ask for her number and some how can't get it out. "I think I'll have one of your green tea special lattes today. It's been a long night.""Hot story?" He grins as he writes her order on a cup and hands it to Fred. They don't do names here, Nora is adament about that. Not for the staff and not for the customers, she says it distracts from the tea experience. Clarke personally thinks she just hates people in general."Not as hot as you," she eyes his shoulders. "I like that shirt on you. Blue really brings out your eyes.""Thanks," Clark manages to choke out even as his face blazes with the heat of a thousand hells. At that point Fred hands over her tea and after another pointed once-over she walks away, leaving Clark half-hard and wanting so much he can barely even function for a couple of hours.It's not perfect, no where near, but he spends ten years of his life working at The Daily T. So when Nora gets shot by an ex-girlfriend with a grudge, it doesn't even cross his mind not to make an offer. By then Clark's thirty-three, he's managed to save money by commuting into Metropolis from the (now defunct) farm which added to the pot from the sale of The Leaf leads to a not inconsiderable amount, and Nora's current girlfriend who inherited the business likes him enough to give him a discount.The first thing he does is change the name to Kent. The second thing he does is change the decor. Nora was a no-nonsense kind of woman, preferred a standing room only teaplace, but Clark wants couches and soft chairs you can disappear into. He wants to give customers free wifi, and stock food from the countries they get their tea from, and most importantly he wants to open all night long like the chinese hole in the wall places he's read about. Within a week after re-opening Kent is heaving with far more customers than Clark has ever seen in his life."So, word on the street is you're the new manager," the red head he's been crazy over for ten years grins when she comes in for the first time in a year. She's tanned, her hair is lighter than it was before, and she's carrying a baby. A baby. Clark absently crumples the twenty dollar note in his hand."I didn't know you were pregnant," he says quietly and she stares at him for a beat before laughing."I wasn't. This is my cousin's kid. I thought I'd take him out so she could have a break.""Right." Clark blushes. She holds her head up higher, clearly affronted."Not that it's any of your business but I was in Syria for the past year.""How do I go about making it my business?" He blurts out without thinking and then freezes when she gives him an honest to God smile."That's easy," she says, "you can start by giving me your name.""Clark." He breathes out. "Clark Kent.""Pleased to meet you Clark. I'm Lois Lane." -/-
10367202	Sietokiet - nizkoie	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Caleb Brewster, Benjamin Tallmadge, Original Characters", "Fandom": "Turn (TV 2014)", "Language": "Русский", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Dragonwort", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-19T00:00:00", "words": "5,126", "Additional Tags": "Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Post-Canon", "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 }	А вот и Сетокет – низкое небо. Город, пропитанный его детством. Едешь по дороге – округлая волна бежит за тобой по колосьям, рассыпчато стреляют под копытами камешки, у густого медленного ветра сладковатый землистый вкус. Где-то мужицким басом от летнего безделья ноет овца. А если вдохнуть поглубже, гладкой атласной ленточкой пройдет сквозь предгрозовую духоту и взбитую дорожную пылищу холодок залива. Детство уже давно представлялось Бенджамину Талмеджу чем-то влажно размытым, точно смотришь сквозь дождливый витраж. И нет-нет, сквозь эти ползучие разводы, расцвеченные зеленым и синим, в крапинках лучисто-желтого, проявится, кольнет, разольется по языку оживший знакомый вкус. У детства этот вкус – рыбы и яблок, пресного клевера, кислой вишни и сладковатой черной бузины. Капельки вкуса, пятнышки запахов проявляются на цветном окошке, отделяющем Бена Талмеджа от этой смутной акварели, посреди которой выплеснуто уродливое бурое пятно пережитой войны. Уже рассохшееся и ржавое, но никак не смываемое. Бен скользит рассеянно глазами по коврам истоптанных пастбищ, и вдруг на ходу из волнистого марева и кострового дымка свивается летящий конь гнедой и всадник золотосиний с белоснежным плюмажем, в серебряных световых полукружьях танцующей сабли. А ведь здесь-то ничего толком и не было, крови не земля здесь напилась, а глаза его, сами его глаза. И никто больше не видит призраков, никого они не тревожат. Бен помнил, как пытался зачем-то подъехать с этим к старшему сыну, раскинуть перед ним на вибрирующем горизонте этот ослепительный мираж. - Я, между прочим, был командиром драгун в армии генерала Вашингтона. Взгляд маленького Уильяма сотворил ожидаемый недоверчивый мазок сверху-вниз вдоль Бенджамина, от лица до брюшка и обратно. Это нормально. Дети не мыслят прошлым. Бесплотное полотно миража стало обвисшей декорацией с кое-как намалеванным неубедительным оазисом. Папа Бен был папой Беном, бритым, мягким и румяным, любившим по вечерам растянуться на софе в кабинете и читать французские книжонки, пока на животе опасно балансировала тарелка с крошащимся пирогом. И уже плохо представлялись времена, когда было иначе. Любопытно наблюдать поэтому лица людей, вместе с ним переплывших эту реку и вовек теперь не способных обсушиться до конца. Хорошо бы, правда, знать еще, какое у него лицо во время этих встреч.На следующее утро идет дождь. Он нарочно отправился на рассвете, чтобы снова пережить его в этих водах. В детстве это всегда поднимало в нем округлую, большим пузырем растущую радость, теснящую внутри все кости и ткани. Эта радость всегда побеждала сонливость, вялость, зябкую досаду на слишком ранний подъем ради рыбалки, все, все. И тупоносая лодка рассекала оранжевые гребешки вдоль облачного хода, к зубам прилипал вчерашний непропеченный хлеб, прихваченный со стола (мачеха Бена пекла из рук вон плохо), ветер обдавал влажным порывом кожу, покрытую мурашками, и вода вокруг как будто тоже ежесекундно топорщилась мурашками, расцветала золотистая рябь перед наступающим днем, уже ползущим к ним серой кляксой. Бен так старался успеть в этот рыжий блистающий рай, что почти и не спал. А вместо этого шел дождь, нависала брюхатая сизая туча. Перевозчик его был совсем мальчишечка – ненамного старше того Бена, который перед отправкой на учебу вкушал тут свои последние сетокетские рассветы. По уныло обвисшим полям его мокрой шляпы было очень понятно, что в уме он бесконечно прикидывает соотношение прибыли от поездки и морального убытка от необходимости торчать посреди пролива в такую погоду. Захотелось как-то его утешить. Бен чуть было не сделал неверный выбор, уже раскрыв рот, чтобы поведать небылицу о том, как однажды зимой свалился в Делавер и едва не умер. Однако, еще раз взглянул на ручьи, текущие с коричневой раскисшей шляпы, и молча решил накинуть еще пару монет за проезд. Он, кстати, вообще до странности плохо ладил с детьми. Даже со своими собственными. Им, видно, нужно было нечто, чего он дать не мог ввиду полного отсутствия оного. Ни им, ни кому бы то ни было. Никому. И бог знает, что это было. Наемный возница на суше был ненамного жизнерадостнее. Утренний дождь вообще никем не бывает любим, пусть он и трижды летний. Вот Бен сейчас подумал об этом, и сразу захотелось его утешить. «Ну и воображение у тебя», говорил ему Натан в Йеле. А некоторые язвительные дети, созревшие дети, как все они там, называли его «сельский воображала». И всю свою жизнь Бен Талмедж был вынужден нести это бремя, ибо с первого взгляда любой проницательный человек, любой перезревший ребенок, такой же, как он сам, в нем это угадывал и высмеивал. И, как ни странно, его самого желал. Возможно, потому и высмеивал. Если не можешь чего-то получить, попробуй это обесценить, ну все знают, маленькие что ли. Может быть, дети тоже чувствовали, что он воображала, как был, так и остался, и на его попытки как-то приукрасить действительность своими былыми заслугами и подвигами реагировали тускло или нервно. Впрочем, подумалось ему на пути в Фэйрфилд, не надо считать детей дураками. Возможно, они как никто чувствуют, что войной ты свою жизнь не украсишь, какой бы захватывающей история ни была. Ну, это пока. Пока они в том возрасте, когда еще не начали сами в нее играть.А пока ехали, дождь и кончился. И к тому моменту, как Бен уже почти достиг нужного места, подхватив парадоксальную мысль «совсем как Сетокет, только совсем не такой», солнце уже поскользнулось на влажных крышах и все пролилось в сияющую комковатую грязь. И первое свидетельство того, что прибыл он по адресу, явилось Бену на длинной проезжей улице, с двух сторон обрамленной бурливыми протоками в канавах – этакий приветственный камешек в окно, ребенок - девочка лет шести-семи (тут ориентировался он хуже некуда). Воробьиная стая галдящих детей гнала по канавам самодельные лодочки и плоты из чурбанчиков, веточек и даже оторванных сапожных подошв, выскобленных для легкости и непотопляемости. Девочка пока что не участвовала во флотских забавах, хотя выглядела в любой момент времени как упругий мяч, сгусток энергии, только и стремящийся сорваться в пространство, и в любой проказе верховодить. Но в данную секунду она, поставив пухлую и грязнейшую – до самого колена – босую ногу на камень, увязывала буйно растрепавшиеся в процессе игры черные кудряшки под перекошенный чепчик. А во рту закусила гребень, временно из волос извлеченный. В общем, это был не просто какой-то случайный знак. Девочка выглядела ровно как крохотный – еще более крохотный, если это вообще было возможно - Калеб Брюстер в ситцевой юбчонке. Бен, дрогнув, даже эту ухватку вспомнил – скошенный на сторону рот, мелкие зубы, прихватившие со звериной цепкостью рукоять ножа, пока руками он вяжет узел на веревках, и ямочка на этой щеке, смятой гримасой. - Эй, - позвал Бен, сходя с повозки. – Здравствуй, мореход. Девочка скосила на него блестящие черные глазенки, не спеша извлекла гребень и продолжила сражение с курчавой шевелюрой уже с его помощью. - Ты ведь Сара Брюстер? Он рисковал, пользуясь исключительно своими познаниями из их переписки. «Вы хоть переписываетесь?» озабоченно спросила в Сетокете Анна, и он даже обиделся. Конечно, они переписываются. И словами не описать ту нетерпеливую прыгающую радость, когда из очередного плюс-минус тоскливого регулярного конвертопада является и горит один, содержащий пухлые от многочисленных сгибов листы и его кудрявый почерк. Каждому ребенку тоже полагалось письмо. Даже два письма – на задел и на рождение. И поскольку Сара была первенцем, оба конверта с разницей в восемь с половиной месяцев почти разрывало от слоев исписанной бумаги. В кругах, где сейчас бывал Бенджамин, появление детей не приводило мужчин в такой неописуемый восторг. Особенно дочерей. Особенно дочерей-первенцев. Во время чтения письма о Саре Брюстер Бен физически ощущал, как его с радости трясут и в него орут, как в юности. - Ну да, - ребенок не удивился ничуть, совершенно привыкший к тому, что все вокруг обязаны его знать. – Вы к папе? Она безо всякого сочувствия послушала пыхтение, с которым он стаскивал увесистый и неповоротливый саквояж с повозки. Сволочь возница слинял в таверну прямо с козел, и помочь было некому. За это Бен мысленно оштрафовал себя – больше было некого, ибо по недомыслию успел отдать гонорар за поездку. В очередной раз с грустью подумалось, что он опять не взыскал в детской душе ни интереса, ни симпатии с первого взгляда, и пришлось побороть всколыхнувшееся желание и ей рассказать, как он был драгуном с плюмажем в армии генерала Вашингтона. - Отведешь меня к папе? Сара Брюстер кивнула и в следующую секунду сделала то, от чего Бен вздрогнул и даже слегка обнялся с саквояжем. Шестилетняя звонкая девчонка (по цифрам было легче высчитать) сунула в рот два пальца и свистнула. «Как взрослый мужик» оторопело подумал Бенджамин. И свист этот хлыстом прошелся вдоль всей улицы. - Джонни! Сюда! Надо зайти к папе! На зов моментально, весь в бурых взметнувшихся брызгах, прискакал еще один маленький Калеб Брюстер. Он бы принял детишек за близнецов, если бы не знал о разнице в год. Мальчишка был не такой боевитый и не стал приветствовать незнакомца, хоть и улыбнулся застенчиво. Сара взяла своего круглолицего двойника за руку. - Не страшно бегать без присмотра? – поинтересовался Бен на ходу. - Нет, – удивилась девчушка. – Главное – всегда везде вместе. - Ты права. Это главное. - А почему лошадь уехала? - Какая лошадь? - Ну вон та ваша. - Это не моя лошадь. - Кого же тогда подковывать? Ребенок принял его за посетителя кузницы, понял Бенджамин. Увы, он, будучи способным приехать в этот город напрямую из своего, используя собственную карету, громыхал сюда на перекладных из Нью-Йорка, где был по делам, через Сетокет с саквояжем, который до Сетокета еще был в два раза тяжелее. Объяснить это кому-либо было невозможно. Ни своей жене, ни чужой жене, жившей в Нью-Йорке, куда он отправлялся по делам, ни себе самому. Но вдруг он понял, что может попытаться. - Я сюда не за подковой, - растолковал он Саре. – Я ехал из Нью-Йорка повидать город детства, а потом друга детства. Но если совсем некого подковать... - Так вы папин друг детства? – шестилетняя Сара Брюстер сделала то, от чего Бен сдрейфил, едва не обнялся с саквояжем снова и не дал деру. Она взяла его за руку. И сразу, откуда ни возьмись, в него потекло, буквально хлынуло ощущение, что к нему стали в один миг испытывать симпатию и интерес, причем, в двойном размере. Младший Брюстер все еще помалкивал, но излучал наравне. - Я был командиром драгун в армии генерала Вашингтона, - сделал осторожную попытку Бен. - А мы знаем! И она выскользнула, смеясь, из его руки и убежала вперед – к домику с вывеской кузницы. И если бы та прыгающая нетерпеливая радость, о которой Бен вспоминал в связи с письмами Брюстера, вдруг отделилась от него и оформилась в живое существо, то выглядела бы она именно так. Через несколько секунд из дверей кузницы высыпались все Брюстеры, какие там были. Третий тоже был маленький, но все же не настолько, плюс заросший бородой как в старые добрые времена, до самых глаз. - Бенни-малыш! – он поспешил ему навстречу своей прежней, знакомой походкой – с широким размахом рук, будто он не идет просто так, а решительно расталкивает и утаптывает тех, кто собирается ему помешать.Чего только он не передумал за годы. Не так-то легко, даже когда имеешь все физические возможности, взять и приехать к кому-то в гости, на тебе копятся деньги, ну или долги, кому как повезет, хозяйство, дети, связи, обязанности, мимолетные удовольствия, пугающе постоянная рутина, да и твой собственный увеличивающийся вес, которому нет никакого удержу. Чем больше утекало этих мгновений, каждое из которых могло быть потрачено на бросание всего и дорогу сюда, тем больше он мрачнел и беспокоился о том, что, возможно, утрачивает нечто важное. Что это он обязан, будучи более здоровым и богатым и менее обремененным, предпринимать какие-то действия, а раз он этой обязанностью пренебрегает, значит, ведет себя как свинья – не впервой, конечно – и создает угрозу, что с каждым годом встреча, произойди она наконец, будет более неловкой и холодной. Все вянет, если это не поливать, говорят, и дружба тоже, непременно надо ее рыхлить, удобрять, пестовать, ломиться в двери через каждое воскресенье. Первый раз увидеться спустя семь лет от последней встречи – кого хочешь спроси, каждый знает, что там уже все давно умерло и лежит. Встретитесь, испытывая мучительную зажатость, будто обоих поставили на шаткое бревно поперек реки, и если один нарушит баланс вежливой неловкости, все сверзится в воду… Саквояж упал точно в грязь, когда Калеб Брюстер, на секунду чуть присевший с раскинутыми руками перед ним, сгреб его в объятия. И Бен, всхлипнув, замкнулся вокруг него словно капкан, уткнув нос в запах железа и жара. Вроде незнакомый, а если подумать – похожий на тот, что был тогда. - Бен, Бенни, Бенни-малыш, - приговаривал он, как будто слегка задыхаясь, тискал его и смеялся, тем самым протяжным скрипучим смехом, какой Бен узнал бы и лет через тридцать. И разомкнулись они резко, как раньше, вцепившись друг другу в плечи. - Эй, ну… ну и что это? А? – проговорил тоже запыхавшийся Бен, взяв его за голову и большими пальцами погладив грандиозные залысины, отвоевавшие у волос значительно большую площадь на голове. - Ну-у-у, а это что? – Калеб отвесил ему шлепок по животу. Тот, стиснутый броней крепко сшитого жилета, дрогнул, но выдержал. - Расплата за процветание, - вздохнул Бен и сам себя вдобавок прихлопнул. - Ну, а это – за хлопоты, - усмехнулся Калеб и встрепал пальцами остатки волос, еще вьющихся на затылке и встопорщившихся на макушке. - Ты ведь, чертов ублюдок, так и не позволил тебе помогать, - сказал Бенджамин совсем тихо. - Ну да, а если еще раз об этом заведешь – за стол не пущу, - Брюстер вроде бы пошутил, но с хорошо знакомым Бену ударением на смысл произнесенных слов. Неуловимо всегда менялся взгляд – обволакивающее горячее сияние остывало и гасло, всего даже на пару секунд, но их хватало, чтобы захотеть его обратно и для этого во всем согласиться. Бен вздохнул, кивнул, получил обратно свое сияние и поднял с земли саквояж. Калеб уже тянул его за собой. - Вот так сюрприз, ну даешь, ни словечка не сказал, уж я бы сегодня… Сказал бы Анне, она бы такой стол представила, хоть картину с него пиши, этот, как его, венецианский обед. Ну, пойдем, пойдем. - Мне не надо стол-картину, - уверял его Бенджамин. – С меня самого хоть пиши венецианский обед. Не утруждай свою милую жену. Смешно, правда, что наших жен зовут Анна и Мэри? - Обхохочешься, - подтвердил Калеб. – Знаешь как вздрагиваю каждый раз, как слышу «Анна Брюстер»? Аж мурашки. А когда решил, что недостаточно боюсь, сделал еще одну, чтобы не расслабиться… Погоди, кузницу запру. - Что, нет работы? – посочувствовал Бен, когда Калеб исчез в недрах кузницы и там внутри пронесся по периметру, производя грохот и дребезг. - Работа есть, - он появился вновь на выходе, с треском захлопнул дверь и повесил замок. – Было бы кому работать… Бен и не успел прокомментировать – Калеб уже организовывал детей. - Ну-ка, пескарики, домой. - Домой! – дети, бесконечно пребывающие в восторге буквально от всего, прилипли к нему с двух сторон. Что-то было очень радостное и щемящее в том, как младший Брюстер поднырнул кучерявой головой под темную шершавую руку старшего. - Понятно. У пескариков нет ножек, поэтому они не хотят идти? – Дети весело закивали. Явно это была какая-то игра, и в соответствии с ее обычаями Калеб быстро присел, сгреб обоих малышей и поднял, каждого на одной руке. Так и пошли. - Только ты можешь быть рад тому, что я вот так внезапно свалился на голову. - Брось ты свои светские штучки, - отфыркнулся Калеб. – Ну давай, давай, рассказывай. Что это у тебя за гробина? Гардероб припер? Перед обедом-ужином заново переодеваешься? - Да иди ты, - Бен рассмеялся. – Дома увидишь. - А я когда вырасту, тоже стану драгуном, - сообщила Сара Брюстер, которой явно наскучило не быть центром внимания. - Отличная мысль, - оживленно похвалил ее Бенджамин. - Драгуном быть очень весело. У тебя есть лошадь и все такое. Ужасно забавно. Если только понарошку. - А вы были понарошку? - Я, к сожалению, по-настоящему, - вырвалось у Бена Талмеджа, и он не посмел повернуть голову, чтобы не встретить жгущий его понимающий взгляд Калеба.Они шли вдоль улицы, миновали море раскисшего навоза с клоками втоптанного сена возле постоялого двора, поплутали меж домов и выбрались к серо-зеленому склону в нарывах взрыхленной почвы. С него уже виднелся дом на добротном клочке земли, слегка на отшибе, но и не очень далеко. В самый раз. С этого расстояния Бен уже мог оценить изумрудный отблеск пышной ботвы в огороде. К дому прямо со склона падала бесхитростно петляющая дорога из желтоватой пыли. В начальной ее точке Калеб вдруг шумно выдохнул и аккуратно отгрузил детей на землю. - А теперь, кто первый добежит до дома и скажет маме, что у нас гость… Он даже не успел им ничего определенного пообещать – малявки припустили так, что пыль желтоватая, еще толком не высохшая после дождя, полетела во все стороны грязными фонтанами. А Калеб выпрямился не сразу – выдохнул еще раз, держась за коленки, а потом ужасающе медленно разогнулся, и все лицо у него было мокрое от пота сплошь, даже в глаза текло через брови, и когда он обмахнул его, воды с пальцев слетело, будто достал руку из бочки. Оскалившись, он прикоснулся ладонью к груди незапланированным жестом – явно привычным, какого уже сам не замечаешь. А стоило заметить – отдернул руку и как смог расправил плечи. Что мало помогло уже – Бен разглядел лишь теперь, что он даже без груза не может этого сделать полностью. Плечи все равно съезжают вперед, и весь он немножко скошенный, если постоянно в движении, то не замечаешь, а тут заметил. - Еще год назад это была работенка полегче, ну! – пошутил Калеб и подмигнул ему. Хотя, тоже теперь прятал глаза, уводил в сторону, чтобы не словить его, Бена, жгучий понимающий взгляд. – Пескарик ходил со мной один и не так еще вымахал. Видишь, долю забираю с собой, чтобы жена там с ума не сошла с этой бандой. Ну давай, пошли-пошли-пошли. Шевелись, толстяк, не хочешь тоже наперегонки? Как в детстве, а? - Ни за что, - отрезал Бен. – Либо случайные зеваки заплатят деньги за подобное зрелище. Оно, знаешь, как на больших ярмарках - всегда чем страшнее, тем дороже стоит.Когда навстречу им из дома шагнула миссис Брюстер, Бен на секундочку остолбенел. Не то чтобы он до сих пор не встречал женщин одного с ним роста (доводилось, конечно же), просто не ожидал этого сейчас. Бог знает что он вообще ожидал, но поприветствовала его рослая, плечистая и впечатляющая в обхвате женщина с небесными лазурными глазами и пастельным полудетским лицом, обрамленным овсяными локонами, мягкими на вид, как у маленькой девочки. Мгновенно в уме возникла картина, как эта могучая нежная женщина, однажды решив обзавестись мужем, просто берет приглянувшегося кандидата под мышку и уносит домой. Возможно, исключительно таким образом Калеба Брюстера можно было привести – или принести - к мысли о прелестях законного брака. - Моя красавица, - сообщил горделиво Калеб, и не согласиться было нельзя. При всей своей ослепительной стати, Анна Брюстер казалась не громоздкой глыбой, а теплым и пышным облаком с персиковым отливом, в ореоле летней синевы. С чувством Бен приложился к руке, которой, несложно было представить, она могла бы сломать ему запястье легче легкого. А в доме их ждал стол и круговорот детей, к которому добавились младшие, включая годовалую Анну Брюстер, по иронии своими черными глазищами и кудрями похожую на ту Анну, которую в своих шутках Калеб имел в виду. Бен так себе и представлял гнездо Брюстеров: Калеб и ползающие по нему бесчисленные дети, домашний хлеб под густой рыбный суп, не поддающиеся подсчету прирученно-дворовые кошки, втекающие в дом на запах обеда, и еще нерешительный улыбчивый пес, заглядывающий в дверь. В этот дом все время входила жизнь и выходила из него, но меньше ее при этом не становилось, потому что сразу же входила какая-нибудь другая. Вся эта жизнь мельтешила, бегала, ползала, клубилась и шумела. И Бен с первых же секунд вписался в этот водоворот самым беспроигрышным способом. Он поставил на пол саквояж и сказал: - А это подарки. И вся шумливая неупорядоченная жизнь немедленно сконцентрировалась на нем.В отличие от оскорбительных денег, многократно и безуспешно предлагаемых этому несносному семейству, с подарками не должно было возникнуть никаких проблем. И не возникло. Очарованные дети, от старшего до годовалого, толпились вокруг волшебного саквояжа, откуда сыпались игрушки, сладости и отрезы тканей, при виде которых даже серьезная и преисполненная величия миссис Брюстер растрогалась и порозовела как заря. - Да ты страшный человек, - Калеб покачал головой, обозревая и выставленные на стол бутылки. Три вина, две – наилучшего рома. Это было единственное, что Бенджамин искал и добывал сам, поручив остальное чужой жене, которую в Нью-Йорке застало его внезапное решение встать и ехать к черту на рога. Правильнее было бы, наверное, поручить это своей, но жизнь сама складывалась так, как складывалась. Один раз только Анна-старшая его слегка упрекнула, и то не всерьез. - Вот вы ей лошадь подарили… - произнесла она, когда маленькая Сара, едва проглотив обед, вылетела из-за стола, прихватила свежеподаренную ей деревянную лошадку в виде головы и палки, и исчезла на улице, откуда спустя секунду донеслись панические вопли вспугнутых гусей. – А как мы теперь ее успокоим? - Сама наскачется, - рассмеялся Калеб и, протянув руку, положил ее на затылок Бена. – Малыш Бенни хорошенько читает письма, да? Этой кукол не надо, только подавай лошадь. Вот и подарил. - Как бывший драгун – будущему, - пошутил Бен. - А она у меня спросила, - сказал Калеб вдруг. – На ухо шепнула. Почему дядя Бен сказал «к сожалению». Это чертовски умная девчонка, чтоб ты знал. - Жаль, что не спросила меня. Я бы ответил, что дядя Бен воевал за то, чтобы нашим детям не пришлось воевать, - отозвался Бенджамин, смутился и замолк, укоряя себя за невеселую ноту в разговоре. Потому постарался улыбнуться, рассеянно нажимая пальцем на ложку, чтобы она приподнималась над столом. – Это непопулярная точка зрения в наших кругах. - Я вам не буду мешать, - большая Анна Брюстер встала и потянулась было к маленькой Анне, под столом подобравшейся к Бенджамину и даже успевшей напускать ему слюны на колено. Это, вероятно, был ее особенный способ выразить симпатию и благодарность за все принесенные дары ей лично и всему клану в общем. - Не-ет-нет-нет, - Калеб встал, прихватил одну из нераспечатанных подарочных бутылок рома и чмокнул жену в плечо. Туда было легко достать, никого не обременяя. – Это мы не будем. Маленькая Анна на руках у большой заворковала, протянула ручки и потащила к себе отцовскую бороду. Ее было легко достать, не обременяя себя. Калеб потянулся вслед за бородой, поцеловал дочь в щеку с ямочкой, как две капли похожую на его собственную за исключением размера, цвета и бороды. Бен закусил губу, чтобы себя не выдать. Чтобы не выдать спазм в горле и глазах при мысли, что он готов был бы проделать весь этот путь пешком и вплавь, с саквояжем на спине и в зубах – лишь бы только увидеть вот это все. Сколько угодно раз.- Зато обратно налегке поеду, какое счастье, - сказал он, когда они шли через поле по колено в траве, а где и по пояс. – Половину раздал еще в Сетокете. В траву они ушли так далеко, чтобы сесть и на секунду вообразить, что вокруг ничего больше нет, затаились как блошки в этой зеленой земной шкуре. Калеб разок спьяну рассказывал, еще когда война не кончилась, что в юности на корабле у него с первых же дней была кличка «Блошка». «Потому что вы маленький и ловкий?» спросил один их собутыльник, которому каждая пьяная история Калеба Брюстера казалась дивной сказкой, сбывшейся наяву. Такой уж у него был характер, у того человека. «Нет», ответил Брюстер, блестя веселыми и слегка невменяемыми глазами. «Потому что первого, кто попробовал меня уму-разуму учить, я ткнул ножом и выпустил ему почти всю кровь». Когда они ушли в траву с бутылкой рома, был еще белый-белый день. И не успели поговорить обо всем на свете, даже о четверти того – как расплылась оранжевая муть по всему горизонту, и настал синенький вечер с первой звездой, выпавшей наверху задолго до всех остальных. Прямо как в детстве, только звать домой тебя никто не станет. - Я все равно не понимаю, чего ты упираешься и не возьмешь денег. Если тебя унижает мало денег, возьми много, - сказал Бен. Ему нечего было теперь бояться – за стол его уже пустили, а если ночевать не пустят, то снаружи тоже не холодно. – Что плохого, если я дам тебе то, чего у меня много, а у тебя мало? У нас же в детстве все было общее. - Ты пойми, малыш, - Калеб в этот раз не рассердился. Он лежал в траве, сцепив руки на груди. Бен сидел и смотрел на него чуть-чуть сверху и чуть-чуть сбоку. – Не хочу я, чтобы ты мне помогал. Я хочу, чтобы мне помогал тот, из-за кого я все вот это с собой сделал. Не ты должен за это платить. - А я всегда и думал, что из-за меня. - Из-за тебя я был готов делать это даром. Мне надо было, чтобы ты жил. Вот это у меня сейчас есть. Бен замолк, уткнувшись носом в руки, сложенные на поднятых коленках. Теперь он смотрел вперед, но так пропадало ощущение, что вокруг нет ничего, кроме них, потому что уже было видно дома и огоньки в домах, и клубочки леса невдалеке, поэтому он тоже лег в прохладную траву, желая этого всего не видеть. Ему очень хотелось, чтобы этот вечер вообще никогда не кончился, хоть это было и несправедливо. - К зиме будет еще один, - поделился вдруг Калеб. - Ну надо же, - откликнулся Бен. Возникло странное и неудобное чувство, что миссис Брюстер, выходит, беременна, а он об этом и не знал. Что в этом особенного, и зачем ему было об этом знать в тот момент, так и осталось неясным. Может, он бы ее поздравил, или не решился бы, слишком неудобно. Захватил бы подарков в расчете на новорожденного. Это было бы славно. Если эту новость ему сообщили сейчас, значит, он будет лишен письма, понял Бенджамин. В коллекции не будет хватать одного радостного извещения. Вот это нехорошо. - Или одна, - продолжил Калеб. - У нас девчонки здорово получаются. Мальчишки тоже ничего. Но так удивительно смотреть на девчонку, которая похожа на тебя самого. Как будто ты сделал что-то совсем вообще новое. А твои? Про своих вообще отмалчиваешься. - У моих носы как у меня, и это я напрасно с ними так, - вздохнул Бен. - Понятно. А моя… Сара, она такая. Мне уже сейчас кумушки кудахчут, что я ее за приличного человека замуж не выдам. А я говорю – если б все за приличных выходили, моя бы за меня тоже не вышла ни за что. Знаешь сколько народу ходило за ней? - Не знаю. - Вот знай. Там этих женихов было – солить и вялить. А знаешь, чем я ее впечатлил? - Дай угадаю. - Заткнись, пошляк. Я серьгу в ухо воткнул, как интересный, и говорю – видали? Вот такую же вторую из двух Лафайет носит. Я с ним всю войну бормотуху распивал. А какая дама тогда не слыхала про Лафайета? Все знали и валялись в обмороке. Даже моя. - Ты шутишь или что? - Если бы. Она до сих пор всем соседкам рассказывает, что ее муж Лафайету на войне ухо проколол. Никому нахрен не интересно, как я врага на лодках захватывал, медаль получил, и вся такая ерунда, - Калеб посмеялся и опять потер грудь этим своим машинальным, неконтролируемым жестом.Бен подумал о том, что всех денег, которые у него есть, действительно не хватит, они, собранные в одном месте, сгодятся лишь на то, чтобы их поджечь, все равно сами по себе не помогут его другу избавиться от этого жеста, потому что он уже навсегда. С этой развороченной грудью не расплатится никто и ничем. Он бы пошел и стребовал с того, кто может, за оброненную его другом фразу: «Это очень хреново, малыш, когда не можешь даже долго своих детей на руках протащить». Но никто не может. Леденящие душу подробности своих мытарств и беготни по канцеляриям за ветеранской пенсией Калеб поведал еще за столом, так, что можно было лопнуть со смеху, и даже его величественная жена улыбалась. Хотя другая бы уже плакала. Но эту женщину сложно было вообразить плачущей, скорее стоило беспокоиться, как бы она не пошла по тем же канцеляриям с кочергой, отыгрываясь за все. А Калеб-то смеялся, как всегда, и как всегда, за этим смехом был ад. Ад еще одной зимы, которую придется переживать с новым человечком в доме, на запасах и доходе от кузницы, где работа есть, а работать некому. Потому что долго и много в кузнице работать не может человек, не способный долго носить на руках собственных детей. Если и можно повергнуть в ад человека, который не боится никого, ни бога, ни черта, ни смерти, и ни на кого не надеется, ибо всегда умел справляться своими силами, то вот таким путем. Не надо отнимать у него вещи, он их все получит обратно этими своими силами, и еще накинет сверху. Надо отнять у него силы. Хотя бы половину, и то сойдет. У таких, как Калеб Брюстер, не боящихся ничего, никаких напастей извне, была одна слабость – они никогда не ожидали, что разрушать их можно изнутри. Они просто не привыкли так бороться – с тем, что точит и разъедает, а не бьет. С чувством, что ты противен сам себе, у них в жизни не бывало раньше такого чувства, потому что силы были, а значит, было все остальное. - Я тебе все равно помогу, и хоть ты упрись, - сказал Бен. - У меня есть идея, как получить твою пенсию. Помогу тебе идеей. - Ну помоги, черт с тобой, - сдался Калеб. – Но давай тогда завтра. Это ж, надеюсь, такая идея, что не надо вставать прямо сейчас и бежать? Ему, видно, тоже хотелось, чтобы этот вечер никогда не закончился, и тоже присутствовал некоторый неуловимый стыд за это желание. - Миссис Брюстер тебя не хватится? - С чего? Ну, если бы ты приезжал каждую субботу, может, и поворчала бы, что мы с тобой валяем дурака вместо чего полезного. А я тебя семь лет не видел. Сказать-то страшно. Как ты вообще решил приехать, да еще из Нью-Йорка через задницу? - Я увидел свиную голову в мясной лавке, - ответил Бен. Он мог бы ответить как-нибудь красиво, но это всем прочим людям он привык врать, а Калебу ответил честно. - Чего-чего? - Я увидел громадную свиную голову и вспомнил, как меня в одиннадцать лет напугала свинья Джонсонов. Не такая игрушка пушистая, какие у Вудхаллов всегда были… Та громадная розовая тварь, заплывшая жиром и злом. Она тогда загнала меня на платан. Я до сих пор не знаю, как залез, там же веток не было футов на семь от земли. Но залез и сижу, а она и не уходит, и не уходит… Ну помнишь? - Помню, а то! – Калеб расхохотался на все поле. – Помню, как Анна ее веткой прогнала – ра-аз, ра-аз, и дело в шляпе. В два счета, пока мы с Вудхаллом над тобой измывались. Прости нас. Меня это мучило всю жизнь. Мы сами боялись эту свинью, поэтому измывались издалека. - Знаю. Однажды я поклялся, что буду твоим другом всегда и везде, в горе и радости, и в болезни, и жизнь за тебя отдам. Кроме одного случая - если ты кому-нибудь когда-нибудь об этом расскажешь. Потом вы с Лафайетом перепились, и ты ему рассказал. И тогда я понял, что из-за тебя нарушаю ужасную клятву, потому что все равно не могу не быть твоим другом. В общем, когда я увидел эту свиную голову… знаешь, я не удивлюсь, если это вообще та самая свинья. Она, сволочь, могла бы и нас пережить. Так вот, я увидел эту свиную голову и понял, что я надвое развалюсь, если не поеду сейчас же, в чем есть. Как тебе такая история? - Отличная история. Очень в твоем духе. Они замолчали, приплюснутые темнеющим небом с новыми звездами, рассыпавшимися, как крошки по столу. - Лафайет переживал тогда, что ты на меня осерчал, ходил и предлагал мне позорные истории из своей жизни в обмен на твою. Одна лучше другой. Тебя хоть свинья на дерево загнала, и это видели только мы, а он при всем французском дворе в танце брякнулся пря-ямо рожей в паркет. Вжух-пык! – Калеб изобразил рукой траекторию полета Лафайета, закончив ее у себя на раскрытой ладони. – Как он там вообще? - Плохо у них там все. - Зараза… Ничего, справится детка. Про кого другого я бы не сказал, а этот точно справится. Сюда бы его. У нас-то как хорошо, да, Бенни? Трудно бывает, но все равно хорошо. Лучше приезжай почаще, если делать нечего. Много, много лет люди будут воевать, и после каждой войны спрашивать – не зря мы это все? А так посмотришь, и не зря. Спросят меня, на кой черт я на этой войне жопу рвал, я скажу – чтоб у тебя были твои носатые дети, Бенни-малыш, - Калеб засмеялся, повернув к нему голову, пихнул его в бок. – Да я пошутил. Чего ты плачешь, дурак? Не плачь.
10391178	cheesecake	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Qian Kun, Dong Si Cheng \| WinWin, Nakamoto Yuta, Jung Yoonoh \| Jaehyun", "Fandom": "NCT (Band)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by sspideys", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "2017-03-22", "published": "2017-03-21T00:00:00", "words": "4,207", "Additional Tags": "jaehyun and yuta are in this for like a second, fluff but not really, if you squint hard enough you can see a chance for a sequel, cant tell if i want to make it for dojae or dota", "Relationship": "Dong Si Cheng \| WinWin/Qian Kun", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "NCT 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 }	When Kun saw the email in his inbox, he screamed and shook his sleeping roommate like he won the lottery. Then he got slapped and told to shut up because it was 3 am and he had work tomorrow. Kun got accepted to work at Krystaline Inc. as a personal assistant for the rich son of the CEO, who was probably going to inherit the company someday. To be honest, Kun had almost no deeming qualities that earned him this job; so it was indeed like winning the lottery. Or maybe the person he was going to work for was snobby and demanding, and nobody applied for the position. Despite all of this overthinking, Kun was excited. He finally had a job after months of unemployment and missed bills. When it was finally Monday, Kun shot out of his tiny apartment door without eating breakfast. He was determined to be early for his first day, and he knew that the roads were usually crowded at this time of the day, with all the busy white-collared people rushing off to their office jobs. Sometimes, Kun would just take the bus at this time of the day, watching all of the people crowd onto the bus, and all of the cars clogging up the roads- honking and beeping. But today, he was one of those people. Kun couldn’t stop thinking about how he looked, if the other people on the bus thought he was a businessman rushing off to close a deal or write some email. Maybe someday- he would be able to afford a car too. He couldn’t help it. Kun was excited as hell. He got to the assigned meeting place for him and his new boss way too early, it was a quietly tucked-away cafe that played familiarly ambient music in the background as you sipped on a cup of coffee. The bells that hung on the doorknob of the door rang to signal every time somebody entered. It was hard not to recognize Sicheng, his new boss, when he came into the cafe. He wore a neat, iron-pressed suit and walked as if he was always on the runway. That, and the cafe was also empty. “Hello? You are Kun, correct?” He walked straight towards Kun, as if he had already seen his thoughts. Sicheng stuck out his hand for a handshake , and Kun ruined it by awkwardly shoving his limp noodle arm into the other’s hand. “Yes.” He tried to save the mood by smiling softly, but it probably came off as a scowl or something. “As you probably know, I am your new boss.” Sicheng sat down, and began squinting to read the cafe’s menu. Kun nods his head like a bobblehead figure. “As you probably know, I am your new personal assistant,” he said softly, trying to make a good first impression. He didn’t want Sicheng to regret his decision to hire him, even if he was already very unqualified for the position. There were probably a hundred more people waiting to receive his position if he got fired; an easily replaceable paper doll. For the rest of the time, Sicheng spoke of his interests- soft things, unexpectedly. Kun had imagined him to be a no-fooling-around, strict worker, but his personality and looks both resemble a puppy more than a rich next in line CEO. “I really like X’s ice cream, you know? It has this really unique soft and creamy taste. You’ve probably never heard of it though, it isn't not that popular.” Sicheng mused, eyes unfocused, probably daydreaming. It hasn’t been a day since he’s met his new boss but Kun had already figured out the type of the person he was. When they began to trek back to the building, Kun was unable to do anything but stare at himself self-consciously. Everyone around him seemed to have just walked out of a fashion magazine or a photoshoot. Kun wore a wrinkled suit (he forgot to iron) that he borrowed from Doyoung. In addition to that, the buildings all seem to reach into the sky and beyond, the tips of the skyscrapers shielded by clouds (or smog, the city was polluted; or that’s what Kun heard from Doyoung. Kun had never been a city person, coming from a farming family) In the Krystaline building, modern lights and plush couches decorated each corner and turn of the hallways. Even the elevator’s buttons seemed to be made out of gold or some other unidentifiable expensive metal. While Kun ogled the interior of the building, Sicheng was yet again- you guessed it- staring a hole through the fabric of universe. The office that Kun was going to be working in was right beside Sicheng’s. In fact, the two rooms were merely separated by a thin piece of glass and some shutters that were only accessible on Sicheng’s side. It seemed like a place where an office romance would occur- not that Kun was fantasizing about Sicheng; don't misunderstand. Kun’s first errand was to collect some photocopies from the printer across the hall. Nothing for Kun to destroy… yet. Doyoung didn’t nickname him the god of destruction without reason. He once lit his (Doyoung’s) spatula and pan on fire, which was something neither of them have ever seen before. When Kun left the stack of papers on Sicheng’s desk, he couldn't help but stop and stare at Sicheng, diligently working away at his keyboard. The sunlight that shone in from the open window highlighted the edges of his face and hair- all Kun can say is that his new boss looks like a god while he types. It wasn't as if Sicheng flaunted his beauty either, it was just that fate plays out how it plays out and the light always catches his good sides. “Is there anything else you need me to do?” Kun asked, careful as not to disturb his working. Sicheng’s attention was suddenly shifted from his monitor to Kun, “I think i’ll be fine, you can take a break for now.” Even though all Kun did was collect a light stack of papers and doodle on the sticky notes on his desk, he wasn't going to complain. Kun silently left the office for a “well deserved” break, searching up closest cafe near me on his phone as he walked. Needless to say, Kun returned to the cafe where Sicheng and him met that morning. Kun is summoned back to the office via phone call after about an hour wasted in the cafe, but it wasn’t like he had anything productive to do back at the office either. “How was your lunch break?” Sicheng asks while Kun organizes the pile of messy paperwork on his desk. He murmurs, “Good,” without turning around; Sicheng’s beauty would probably blind him, and knowing him, he was probably smiling [code red to Kun’s cardiac health!!]. “Have you tried the cheesecake from Uncle Tetsu’s?” Kun sneaks a peek at his boss, who was leaning back on his leather office chair and staring into the ceiling. “I heard it's really good.” He fumbles around with the tie around his neck and gestures for Kun to leave his office. “You can return home now.” The next days at work were almost identical to his first, Sicheng knocking on the glass window separating their workspaces before sticking a piece of paper that said print the thing i sent u in your email and Kun rushing off to print “the thing he sent him”. It hadn’t been a month before a red and white box was left on his table, covered in japanese scrawling and a cute red logo of a baker. Inside was a cheesecake, well, almost-whole-cheesecake. A piece had been daintily cut out, leaving about 60 percent probably for Kun’s enjoyment.. “Do you like it?” Sicheng entered Kun’s office without a greeting. “I told you about it yesterday.” When Kun pointed at the piece that had been cut out, Sicheng smiled apologetically and scratched the back of his head. “You ate this much?” he smiled broadly at Sicheng’s winsome reaction. “It isn’t like I lined up 30 minutes for nothing, I want a piece too,” he pouted. Sicheng is way too cute for his own good. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Do you want to grab dinner with me?” Sicheng inquired, even though he probably had a hoard of other dinner invitations himself. Kun didn't want to burden his boss by establishing a relationship outside of the boss-employee that they already created, but Sicheng didn’t seem to mind. He hummed his reply as he picked up his coat and bag from the hook in the corner of the room. They talked more about work as they strolled to a nearby classy restaurant that had meals probably more expensive than Kun’s rent. Sicheng walked straight into without batting an eye, so he followed hesitantly. “So I assume you come here often?” Kun commented, judging by the way that Sicheng greeted the waiters at the front door. “Yea, I have a friend that works as a chef here,” he gestures to the tall man that began to walk towards them. “That’s Jaehyun.” After a few rushed greetings and introductions, Jaehyun returned to the kitchen. As Sicheng fiddled with the menu, he played around with the fancy (probably also really expensive) embroidered tablecloth between his fingers. Kun didn’t understand French anyways so he let the latter decide on the meal. A live ensemble was playing by the front door, stringing out sweet melodies on their instruments. Sicheng ordered a bottle of champagne “to fit the mood,” he said, smiling. Kun sipped on the glass of drink slowly because it felt like he was drinking hundred dollar bills away. When they finished eating, Sicheng wouldn’t let him pay, slapping his hand away with a playful pout on his face. “It’s my treat, after all, what kind of boss would I be if I let my employee pay for me?” Kun was embarrassed to have Sicheng pay for him, but he could probably pay off his student loans with the price of the meal. Sicheng drove him home too, he didn’t want Kun to walk in the freezing cold weather. His car was some foreign brand that Kun couldn’t identify, but it was probably really expensive. He spent money like he was drinking water, simply because he could afford it. This became a routine, every friday Sicheng would walk with him to the same restaurant and buy him the same overpriced dinner, then drive him home. Kun was uncomfortable with Sicheng spending so much on him, but Sicheng didn’t care because his father didn’t ask questions about his lifestyle. Sicheng was filthy rich and Kun was… from the country and farmed potatoes and corn. Kun moved to the city to pursue his studies but fast forward two years, he was stuck in a cramped apartment on the outskirts of the city depending on his roommate’s already low income to pay the rent. After three months of working for Sicheng, making photocopies and sending emails, he is finally introduced to the rest of the staff. Yuta, the front desk attendant, smiled at him with a smile that could be compared to sunlight. “I’ve seen you around so many times but you never told me your name.” “It’s Kun,” he replied, shuffling his feet on the ground consciously, “I’m kind of shy towards new strangers.” “How are you taking to working here? I know that Sicheng is a bit hard to deal with and all,” elbowing him in the shoulder. Kun sighed, thinking of all the times Sicheng ‘accidentally’ spilled coffee all over his desk, then yelling for him in a panic. Don't forget how he also had to carry Sicheng to the front foyer and ask for his chauffeur to come bring him home after he collapsed from overwork. Strangely, Kun didn’t mind. “It’s comfortable,” he firmly answered, “I like working with him.” Yuta shrugged, thinking to himself, he must be so whipped for Sicheng , and flashed him a knowing wink. “I think I like him.” Kun was on the couch with him roommate, watching reruns of Pokemon on the ancient television. He was wearing his sweats and a t-shirt he bought from GoodWill. Doyoung scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, “Who is this he that you are talking about?” “Sicheng, you know? My new boss?” “Oh right. Isn't he that guy that you’re whipped for?” Kun blushed at Doyoung’s response. “So what if I am? A corn farmer like me will never have a chance with him anyway.” Doyoung rolled onto the floor, groaning as his side hit the hardwood. “I think you aren’t opening your eyes enough.” When Kun blinks, in a stump by what Doyoung meant. “Isn’t it obvious enough?” Kun had never had many crushes in his adolescence, his eyes mostly blinded by studies and chores. If someone were to confess to him, he’d accept, out of pity for the other person. A week later, they’d break up with him after realizing the type of person he was, and that they weren’t as important as the other aspects in his life. It wasn’t their fault, and Kun didn’t want them to take it out on themselves, so he’d let them curse and slap him (only to find that that didn’t affect him at all either). The only serious crush he’s ever had is on a character in a book. When it was revealed that his favourite and beloved character had died of poisoning at the end of the book, he cried and cried until his eyes were red and swollen. Through all this, Kun had somehow managed to have his first kiss, but it seemed to be more of an emotionless peck than an awkward and cute first kiss. He doesn’t remember who it was with or where it had occurred. “I don’t understand.” A week after the puzzling conversation with Doyoung, it was Friday again. But this time, Sicheng was driving him… somewhere. But like Doyoung said, he was so whipped that he couldn’t complain even if Sicheng brought him to an isolated warehouse to steal his organs. Kun taps the Sicheng’s shoulder, whispering a soft, “where are we going?” but was only answered with it's a surprise and a dazzlingly charming wink. For the rest of the drive to … somewhere, Kun fiddled with his hands and shifted in his seat uneasily. Sicheng was too docile to actually steal his organs.. right? Kun fell asleep after a while, the quiet piano music that played on the stereo and the peaceful rumbling of the car became his nighttime lullaby. “Kun” Sicheng taps on his shoulder lightly, “We’re here. Wake up.” Kun jolts awake and groggily rubs his eyes. “Where is here ? Where are we?” Bright lights and music enter his senses. “This is my family home.” “..and why exactly are we here?” “I told you. For dinner, of course,” Kun raises his left eyebrow, why did he bring Kun here? He was merely an untalented and useless but overpaid personal assistant. Sicheng pulled him out of the car seat and they walked together up the steps that lead to the enormous front door. What was peculiar scene about this was that Sicheng was holding his hand, he didn’t know why but his (note: very clammy) hand was gripped tighter with each step they took. When they entered the threshold of the mansion, awe escaped out of Kun’s mouth. Not one, not two, but three!!! grand chandeliers hung from the high ceiling. The front foyer looked exactly like what you’d expect a mansion’s front foyer would look like, lavishly decorative and spectacular. “Come with me,” Sicheng breathed into his ear (note again: he was still holding Kun’s hand). Kun stuttered, still in-awe from the front foyer, “W-why are we here for dd-dinner?” “Duh, because it's the family dinner.” Sicheng said this like Kun had already known this. Sicheng dragged a very mystified and groggy Kun around his home, showing him all the spots that he had hid in for hide and seek when he was a child. Another thing that Kun found strange was that there was that there were no servants. You’d expect a mansion to be filled with maids waiting at each corner, waiting to attend to every request. Sicheng’s mansion was empty. (Maybe he had ninja maids instead of the regular kind) “This is my mom, my dad, and this is my little sister.” Sicheng smiled as he pointed to the respective person. His mother and sister smiled the same smile that Sicheng uses to blind Kun with. His father… seemed cold and indifferent, walking off to converse with the other relatives and family friends after the introduction. They made small talk among each other as Sicheng rushed off to get Kun some snacks. They came across to Kun as overly cheery, every time he said something, their eyes lit up- maybe he had something stuck between his teeth. Sicheng’s relatives all looked too similar, same faces and voices. Most of them were also business or office workers, so Kun had something to talk to them about at least, instead of standing around like a limp vegetable in the corner (like he usually does at social events). “It’s… nice,” Kun commented, gulping down the small cup of mocktail he had in his arm. “What’s nice?” Sicheng replied, copying Kun’s action after speaking. They were sitting at the mini bar that was located in his unusually large basement, drinking juice punch. “This place. Your family and your relatives. I like it.” Sicheng smiled harder at this comment. “I’m glad that you like it becau-” he suddenly stopped mid sentence. “What is it? Is there something you need to tell me?” “It’s nothing.” The rest of the family dinner was spent with some more socializing among Sicheng’s relatives. They told him interesting stories of Sicheng when he was younger, to which Sicheng himself reacted with a cute pout. The party was over at midnight, Sicheng again rushing to drive him home like Cinderella running from the ball as the clock struck twelve. The atmosphere in the car was tense (for some reason) without much of a real reason. Kun felt like he had to say something. “There’s definitely something you aren’t telling me, right?” Sicheng looked over at him with an expression that completely displayed how did he know… With a reluctant sigh, Sicheng finally speaks. “I may or may not have told them that you were my new lover.” Kun waited for the shock to register in his mind Sicheng did what? Maybe Sicheng stealing his organs wasn’t such a far away thought. “Huh? You told them that I was your lover? I’ll take it as a compliment, but I don’t think any of them would believe that this vegetable could ever be the lover of a rich heir like yourself.” So that was why Sicheng’s mother and sister acted so weird around him- they thought that they were talking to a future son-in-law. Even though he could barely see his own hands in the pitch darkness, he could feel that the tension in the car rose. “Why would you say that?” “I’m saying that i’m not worth your time,” Kun couldn’t believe that it wasn’t obvious to Sicheng. His crush on his boss made it hard to say those words, but it wasn’t like he ever had a chance with Sicheng. They didn’t speak for the rest of the car ride, until they reached Kun’s apartment building. Sicheng mumbled a choked “goodbye” as Kun left the car. The next Monday at work was probably the most awkward situation he’s ever been in. Yuta didn’t wave him a hello as he walked by the front desk, he was absent, filled in by an unfamiliar intern. Sicheng left another (eerily untouched) cheesecake on his desk with a note. To: kun You are reading this probably because i'm absent today This is an apology cheesecake I probably put you in a really awkward situation yesterday You don't have to keep coming to work if you don’t want to winwin Sicheng signed with the nickname that Kun came up with for him, as he continued to beat Kun at UNO whenever they played the childish card game during lunch break. Kun went home early that day. A strange weight hung on his chest and throat as he strolled to the bus station. On Wednesday, his phone pinged with the notification that more money had been entered into his account, “Why is he paying me when I didn’t do anything?” He felt weirdly choked up- like he was going to cry. But no tears came out. “Are you an actual robot? What the fuck, Kun?” Doyoung slapped him on the arm, “How could you just leave like that?” “What do you mean?” Kun asked Doyoung for some advice, as he couldn’t grasp the name of the feeling that he was experiencing. Doyoung groaned, “Do you not notice his feelings?” To which Kun replied with a confused Hm??? “It’s at times like this that I think you are an actual android. Do you even have a heart?” Doyoung presses his ear to Kun’s left side. “Why would he have feelings for me?” “OH MY GOD QIAN KUN” Doyoung explained the whole situation to him. “Why else would he take you out to dinner every Friday? Why else would he drive you home, commenting that he didn’t want you to catch a cold?” “Because it’s all platonic and he wants to be a good friend and boss?” “No you fucking idiot, it’s because he likes you, and he is worried about you.” That was when it all clicked. Why else would Sicheng keep him as his personal assistant when he could easily hire another, even more talented paper doll to take his place? Why else would Sicheng continue to pay him even though he didn’t finish his work? “I have to go.” Kun said, finally awakened to Sicheng’s feelings, rushing to put on a coat and a scarf and then bolting out the door. qiankun: tell me sicheng s address please nakamoto: do u finally understand qiankun: just tell me his address please nakamoto: //map location sent// nakamoto: you better introduce me to a hot guy after this There was a strange tapping noise at Sicheng’s window. Rocks… were being thrown at his window? His face almost gets hit after opening the window. “Kun?” It was almost completely dark outside but he could still make out a lanky figure standing before his front lawn’s gate. “Sicheng.” His recognizable voice resonated through the cold december air. “Why are you here? I thought you wouldn’t want to see me anymore.” “I’m sorry that I’m saying this so late.” There was a long pause after that sentence, Sicheng on the verge of tears as he knew that Kun was going to reject him. “I know what you are going to say.” “That I love you?” Another long pause- and Sicheng was really crying this time. He walked down to his front door to let Kun in. “You really do?” He asked, in between sniffles. Kun took Sicheng into his arms, “I do. I love how you pout every time I tease you. I love your broad smile every time I say that we can share a cheesecake. I love your sharp canines that make you look like a cute demon.” “I love you, and i’m sorry that i'm such an android that I couldn't notice it the first time.” “Don’t you know that I love androids?” EPILOGUE Kun stretched out his legs and looked to his right. Sicheng was leaning onto his shoulder and peacefully sleeping. They were taking the train back from the countryside, where they had visited Kun’s family. His mother cooed over how Sicheng ate, adorably munching then closing his eyes to savor the flavour, bringing out more and more food as the plates were cleaned off. “I can’t wait for your marriage.” Kun furrowed his eyebrows and hid his face in embarrassment, flustered that his mother would suggest such a thing when they’ve just been dating for two years. Sicheng laughed it off, commenting on how Kun always says it’s too soon whenever he tried to talk about their wedding. “Don’t blame me for wanting to wait for the right moment! Besides, who said that it was going to be you who proposes?” Kun grinned, and this time, it’s Sicheng who blushes. Sicheng would probably look really good in a white suit , Kun thought to himself, the thought itself triggering a blush to invade Kun’s cheeks. Sicheng suddenly woke up and said, “I have an idea for our wedding,” lifting up his left hand and wiggling his ring finger in Kun’s face. “What is it? Don’t tell me you want to hold it at your parent’s place.” Kun found it hard to go back after the awkward situation that happened when he first met Sicheng’s parents. “No. I want our wedding cake to be-” “Ice-cream cake, right?” Kun knew how much Sicheng enjoyed the cold treat. “I didn’t finish my sentence! I want our wedding cake to be- Cheesecake.” fin
10339032	Through The Dark	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Harry Styles, Niall Horan, Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne, Zayn Malik", "Fandom": "One Direction (Band)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by things__icant17", "chapters": "6/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-17T00:00:00", "words": "11,409", "Additional Tags": "Angst with a Happy Ending, Past Relationship(s), Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Cupcakes, Secret Crush", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Louis Tomlinson/Original Male Character(s)", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Harry's POV "What do you want?",I asked as I looked at my alarm clock "at 3 am". Gus, my cute little Jack Russel, could be a total arse sometimes if you ask me."Woof...woof",he just kept licking my face, barking happily, as if the sun was shining bright outside. Sighing, I pushed him onto my comforter from my chest. Maybe if I just pat him, he will give up on making me loose one more hour of sleep.To my relief, he was asleep in about 5 minutes, and soon I followed. Hitting the off button on my alarm, I woke up at 4, but I swear it felt like it had just been 2 minutes since I last closed my eyes. It was going to be a very long day.As I got ready for my early shift in the bakery, I made sure to give Gus some food so he won't be hungry when I came back at 8 am. I would come home for a break and would again leave for a days worth of dealing with costumers at 9 am again.Although I loved the bakery, but it really was a tough job to wake up at arse crack of dawn to open it and get the things ready before the rest of the staff came. 'HoneyBuns' yeah, that's my lifetime achievement if I must say. I had put my everything into this bakery, and if I had to loose a few hours of sleep over it, I didn't mind really.As I was walking to the bakery, walking as it was only two blocks away, my phone started ringing in my pocket. "Mum" I was so happy to hear her voice in the morning. God, I missed her so much. This,having my own bakery, didn't really spare a room for holiday and consequently family time.It had been 7 months since I'd last seen her. "Hi love, how have you been?" Mum asked me in her soothing voice. "I'm good mum, I just miss you. How are you and Robin?""We are fine love and we miss you too you know?" She said and I could clearly hear it in her voice, how much she wanted to come here to meet me. "I wish I could come there Harry, but you know how it is"."Yes mum I understand and I think I'll come home soon, Niall won't burn the place down for a few days without me,I think" I chuckled. Mum also laughed on the other line "It'd be good to see you baby". She said and I knew she was smiling."Take care mum I'll see you soon...love you" I said as I started thinking about talking to Niall about my holiday, today itself. "You too Harry, love you too." Mum said as she hung up the phone.It was the first time after uni that I was living alone. And I don't know it felt more real this time. Like I just couldn't run to my mum's arms, if I had any problems. Although I knew I was welcome home, any time, day or night. But it was just that I wasn't her little baby anymore, I had to face up to my problems and be a man.As I opened the bakery and started getting the things ready, time passed by in a blur. I heard the bell on the door, signaling the arrival of a certain Leprechaun. I smiled "Good morning Niall"."Ugh Harry tell me how do you do it? Wake up at fucking 4 am and still smile like that?" He seemed irritated. "Still hungover?" I asked raising my brows."Yeah, its alcohol and it calls me, its in me blood, can't help it you know?" He said, as he slumped down on a desk. "Here take these and rest for a bit you'll feel much better" I presented him with a water bottle and 2 ibuprofen tabs."I love you to the moon you know that right?" Niall said, beaming, and I thought, if there was a way that the Irish could be grumpy for more than 5 minutes? I finally decided no there absolutely was not!!"I know, I love you too...so just get better and help me so I can go home and get back here on time" I said I stared putting the fresh batch of muffins in the display."You mean so you can creep on the one with the cheekbones, so you won't miss him while he leaves the building at 9. Am i right?" He said wiggling his eyebrows, like the annoying person he is, sometimes."For the record I don't creep on him. He just seems so sad, it breaks my heart", to be honest, I just wanted to help him, if there was something I could do to make him smile I would do it. Although it was confusing, as to why I felt such a pull towards him. Pushing the thought away for now, I started finishing up for the morning."Bye Niall, I'll be back soon", I said in his general direction, since he was in the back taking care of the next batch, that was being baked. As I left the shop, I also met Perrie and Jade, who were the other two workers along with Niall.Walking back home, I just couldn't stop thinking. Why was he always so closed off? Those blue eyes were so empty, it was painful to look at them even that one time that I had the chance to. He was beautiful and sad like a well drawn painting, that you could not decide weather to be amazed or to cry."Oh! Sorry", I apologized "I wasn't looking where I was going I'm so sorry", I said to the person I had bumped into. I was met with the very same blue eyes, that had been reason that I didn't see the person in the first place."It's OK", he said as he moved past me, quickly picking up the newspaper and leaving as fast as he had come.Once inside, realization hit me, that he had pink around the blue, and his eyes had been puffy, like instead of sleeping he'd been crying all night. My heart clenched at the thought, I just wanted to knock on his door and make it all better.I scolded myself for being so naive "like he won't think you're a weirdo for doing that", I said to myself. Ugh I think i was going crazy maybe. "Come on boy, let's go for a walk", I called Gus and he obliged, happily wagging his tail. I needed some fresh air and so did my overthinking brain.Once back from the walk I had breakfast and got ready for going back to the shop. At least I won't have think about the boy, since I'll be busy with customers.So, we again met in the lift, same time 8:50. And again there was a nod to my hello. I wish he'd do me the honor of telling his name someday. But today, as he was leaving the main gate, I whispered a small "hope you have a nice day", to which there was a timid "you too", whispered back.I counted it as a win. And its not my fault entirely that I kept smiling, thinking of the small "you too". ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Louis’ POV “Hi…umm so what are you doing friday?” Liam, my boss, and sort of friend asked me as we were about to close the bookshop and go home. “Nothing, why?” I asked, unsure of where this was going. “I just thought you could come out with me and some of my friends” he offered. “I’m sorry Liam, I can’t” I refused, I just wasn’t in the mood to socialize.His face fell for a second, but then he soon recovered “it’s okay mate, maybe some other time”.“Yeah, sure” I nodded, although I could clearly hear the lie in my voice. Liam smiled all the none, waving bye. As I headed home, my mind flooded with the images that were the reason of my sleepless nights these days. God knows I didn’t want to dwell on the fact that I moved to London. As soon as I closed the door to my apartment I felt a wave of hopelessness attack me. Tears wanted to come out, but I won’t let them. Pushing all the dreadful thoughts aside I went on my bed.Sleep wasn’t an easy thing these days. My stomach growled, protesting for food, it needed more than an apple and two slices of bread a day I knew that. Ignoring the feeling, my hand automatically went on my phone. I wanted to call her and tell her I’m sorry, but I knew it was not enough. No matter how hard I try, I won’t be able to take back the things I did.Between thinking about what I could and couldn’t have done, I don’t know when the sleep took over me. I jolted awake at 3:30 am, from the same nightmare I had been having for days. Every time I woke up I felt empty, lifeless all over again. As if the gaping hole that I felt in my chest wasn’t a reminder enough, the event on phone made the pain 1000 times worse. It was 15th March, it was her birthday.I had to leave at 9 so I still had around 6 fucking hours to kill. Lighting up a cigarette, I started pacing in my tiny living room. It wasn’t enough to distract me from the thoughts that came creeping back even if I took a second to breathe.I finally decided on watching telly to get my mind off of things. A sound outside my door woke me up at 8:15. There wasn’t any knock so I didn’t bother myself with opening it. After a shower and getting ready I felt a bit better since I knew I won’t be dwelling on reality once I was working. It felt good to forget everything for a second.As I opened my door to leave, I was surprised to find a cute little cupcake in a plastic box along with a note sitting under it. Picking up the box along with the note, I could not help but think that the person delivering it must have had the address mistaken. Who would send me a cupcake? No one knew me here.Keeping the fact aside I decided to read the note, I did feel bad for reading a note that was most definitely meant for someone else, but I couldn’t help myself. There were just four simple lines written on a messy crawl that was weirdly beautiful in its own way. Roses are red Violets are blue I would like to see A smile on you The note ended with a smiley in the corner. To be honest I was a little weirded out by the fact that someone was sending me a note. Because I was definitely sure the note was meant for me, I should be scared, but there was a cupcake so how bad it could be?Pocketing the note I locked my door. I could eat the cupcake for lunch. I was well aware of the amount of food I had been eating these past days but it wasn’t something I could help. As I headed towards the lift I knew I’d see the curly haired boy again. I didn’t know why he kept talking to me every day even though I never replied to him like any decent person would.I did not hate him or anything, it was just that the place I was in right now, nobody would want to talk to me after even getting a glimpse of it. Then why bother with making small talk? Promises held no meaning words could always be forgotten. Flashback The cold night air was biting my skin as I walked on the empty road. I could not stop the tears even if I wanted to. What have I gotten myself into? Where should I go now? I kept asking myself the same question again and again. With trembling hands I tried to call one last person that I thought might still be by my side. “Z-Zayn?” I asked as my voice trembled. “Lou…are you allright? What happened?” I heard him say, he was worried I could hear it in his voice. “C-Can I come to your house?” I asked timidly, afraid that he might say no. “Yes Lou, you never have to ask you know that, what happened bebs you don’t sound okay” after a pause he added “I am worried about you.” “I-I’ll explain when I meet you there” I said sniffling. As I hung up I gathered myself for a night that was very long and very very dark. Flashback Ends “Hey, Its ground floor” I heard a deep voice telling me, ofcource it was curly. What?? Did I just give him a nickname in my head. Shaking my head slightly, I got off the lift. “umm thank you” I said. No matter how hard I tried that night never ended for me. It was like I was living every single second of that night every day. “No problem, have a nice day” curly said as he smiled with a dimpled cheek. Once I actually looked at him he was very pretty, though my eyes barely focused on the emeralds for mere seconds, I couldn’t help but look away quickly. I couldn’t do this, no never again. I just turned and left in a hurry without uttering a single word. I knew it was not civil, neither was it the right way to act like that with someone who is smiling at you and wishing you a nice day. Once inside the bookstore I felt much better. These books were my escape from the painful reality, but they were also a reminder of a life that I wanted. I had applied at some schools for the English degree that had been my lifelong dream. Although I did not know if I could get it together to ever study again. There was this thing about being practically abandoned by your family. And never having enough money was one of them. I only had Zayn to thank for the fact that I wasn’t homeless, since it was his uncle’s house that I was living in as his uncle mostly just stayed abroad for his business. And he was generous enough to let me live there without spending a penny. I missed Zayn and I missed home, I missed all of it. I just could not come to terms with the fact that my father had abandoned me in a heartbeat. I wish there was a way I could make everything go back to where it was before. I heard my phone ringing in my pocket and my heartbeat accelerated, seeing the caller id I took a deep breath “ Hi Z, how are you?” I asked, it was a relief to hear my best friend’s voice. “I’m fine Lou, I just missed you so I called. And I wanted to tell you a good news as well” I could practically hear him smiling on the other line. “Tell me, and I miss u too a lot” I said as I felt more and more homesick with every second.“I got accepted in an art school in London, so I will meet you soon….” He said, and suddenly my day wasn’t so bad anymore. “Oh my god! Z that feels like the best news I’ve heard in years, I can’t wait to see you” I said full on beaming after god knows how long. “Me too bebs, I’ll be there in about a week, see you soon, take care yeah?” his voice went soft towards the end. “I will and love you Z” I said. “Love you too” he said as he hung up the call. Yes I never thought I’d be standing here at a point in my life where everything felt as empty and lifeless as dirt on the ground. But I had Zayn, at least I had one person with me, so it did make me feel a bit better about everything. “Hi Liam” I said cheerfully, and it was not my fault that I let out a short chuckle when I saw his startled face. Usually it was always him who would come to me every morning saying hello and making a sad face at my halfhearted reply. But he recovered soon, “Hello Louis, its great to see you in a good mood today” he said smiling brightly, he had such kind eyes. “I am actually and I’m sorry for being a total arse these past days” I apologized. “it's okay” he said “you don’t have to apologize for anything”. Smiling he went away to the other corner of the shop to help a little girl with selecting a storybook. Even though I may have lost a lot in the past but I had also gained a lot since coming to this new place, with that thought in my mind I started my work on the counter, and the day was a little better than yesterday. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Louis’ POV “Ugh…” I rolled over in my bed covering my head with the blanket. It was Saturday and the sun was blinding. Why did it have to shine when I fucking felt dark inside. I thought maybe once I could count on London weather, but no that was apparently not the case.The only thing waking me up in the morning was I’d see Zayn soon.It was more like an afternoon since it was 11:50 as I checked my phone. As usual the nightmare won’t let me sleep. I had barely closed my eyes at 2:30 in the morning when I was again awake and sweating at 3 fucking am. That was the time I started regretting saying no to Liam’s offer. Maybe if I was drunk enough it’d be easier to just sleep. It was always the same spiral of nothingness, the nightmare, one second I saw her face and the other I was walking into the dark night calling for her over and over again.To say that the nightmare was painful was an exaggeration; it was the part that came after it that made me want to end this. End everything and just sleep. For once I wanted to just think about myself and let the nothingness take me. Ah! But I couldn’t do that either. Because I was told that, that was what cowards did those who were simply too afraid to see the light at the end of a dark night.Sighing, I got up to make toast and tea as I was pretty sure that if my thoughts didn’t kill me, lack of food definitely will. Finally Zayn will be here, someone I could always rely on. He was the only person I trusted enough with all that I had left in my life.A walk outside seemed a very nice idea at this point. Lighting a cigarette, I was just locking my door when something bumped on my feet, a cute little Jack Russell. Smiling I bent down to pick him up in my arms.“Hey buddy, you are very cute you know” I said scooping him up into my arms, as he started licking my face. Laughing I tried to placate him from all the excitement he was showing. “You know someone must be really worried for you” I said in a soft voice as he had a collar on. He looked at me with so much attention with those puppy eyes that for once you would think that he understood everything I said.I felt so light while holding him that for a split second I wished that no one comes to find him.But obviously the moment I got up I was met with emerald eyes; I should’ve known something so adorable would belong to some someone so cute. Is this lack of outside air? What the hell am I thinking? I face palmed mentally.“Hi” said curly, dimples on full display and for once I could not stop myself from smiling back. “Hi” I said as the puppy kept licking my face.“Seriously, Gus am I that bad that you keep running from me?” he asked looking at the puppy, pouting at him and if I thought that the puppy was adorable I was so fucking wrong at this moment. It was a crime to make that face, in my opinion. That face was the reason people would commit murder and happily go to jail.Shaking away the thoughts I tried to concentrate on what he was saying to me. By the looks of it he had repeated it several times before I was aware enough to listen to what he was actually saying.“umm…I’m so sorry, he just finds it hilarious for me to run after him” he said confusedly, great now he must be thinking I’m a nut who keeps spacing out every time he’s around. “Oh! Its fine really, he’s very cute and a little ball of energy” I replied.“Thank you” he said with a smile, and again I could not help but stare at those dimples popping out, oh was that a blush I could see? I was surely mistaken. “Were you going out?” he asked in that deep gravelly voice. Was there anything lacking in this man? I considered myself lucky if I could just reply him on time rather than staring at him.“Yes actually I was gonna go for a walk, I know it’s pretty late but it seemed like a good idea a few minutes ago” I replied laughing, it sounded weird to my own ears. Why was I getting nervous? There was something about this man that just made me fidget and fumble with my words.“I was also going for a walk when Gus decided to play hide and seek with me…” he said, petting the pup, which I noticed was still in my arms. “Hey you could come along…he seems to like you a lot” he said his eyes questioning.Yesterday I was not ready to socialize and today I was nodding yes to a certain curly boy whose dimpled smile was to be blamed for that. I could not help but notice how easy it was to breathe when he was around. It was like I was not in a new place running from my past.As we got out of the building I put Gus down and he was happy to trot in the front.“Oops I did not properly introduce myself, I’m Harry” he broke the silence. “I’m Louis” I said smiling, I think this was the most I had smiled since that night.“So you are new in the building” he started asking, or saying I could not be sure but he was so kind to just be trying to make a conversation with me, when in the past few days I had nothing but ignored him.Deciding to be civil for once I tried to make an effort “New in the city actually, I moved here a few days ago”.“You’ll like this place I think, hey if you want I could show you around some time?” he asked, looking downwards as if he was contemplating whether it was right for him to ask me that.“Yeah sure, I look forward to that” I replied smiling more and more each time, like it was a natural response to when I looked at him.Rest of the walk went by in silence. As we headed back to our building, I was happy that I made the decision to go out. I had not smiled in days like that; it ought to count as a good thing. It was a relief even if it was temporary, even if I know that as soon as the door to my apartment closed I’m going to be sucked into the black hole of my own thoughts.As I was about to say bye he turned around and said “Hey Louis, if u need anything I’m right across the hall”. He looked at me with kind eyes, like he could see what was going on inside. No I won’t let that happen, he didn’t need to know the fucked up version of me thank you very much.“Yeah sure thanks Harry, bye” I said with a tight smile this time, the dark thoughts were creeping back and I needed to be alone right now. As I went inside I didn’t even wait for him to reply. Awesome now he must think that I am Bi Polar or something.I wish she was here. How could god, take away everything from me in a matter of months, if there existed one. Honestly what did I do to lose all that I had with a blink of an eye? It was never quiet at home on a Saturday, but now this silence was driving me insane. There was a time when, if you got an hour to yourself was a gift from heavens, or so it felt like at that time. But now if you asked me, I would give up everything to hear those shrieks of four girls fighting and babies crying over small things. Flashback “Noooo mum I’m going to Zayn’s tonight” I whined for the 100th time. “Listen honey, I have a night shift today, you can go tomorrow love, can’t you?” my mum pleaded. “But mum then why Lottie is allowed to go?” I complained, pouting, thinking maybe it would get me what I wanted. “You know she’s been waiting for a week, I promise you can go tomorrow boo” she said patting my shoulder. I felt my resolve crumbling. I had always been mummy’s boy. “Okay, but tomorrow I’m going” I said making a face. “Definitely” she replied smiling, and I felt myself smiling soon. “Bye boo, be back soon” she said kissing my forehead as she left for her shift at the hospital. Flashback ends And before I knew I was full on sobbing, wishing this pain to end once and forever. “Mum I need you so bad….I miss you” I said into the empty space, hoping that she could hear me. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry’s POV “Yeah sure thanks Harry, bye” he went away as soon as he came. That was weird. Okay what did I do now?The thought wouldn’t leave my mind as I walked towards the bakery, was it wrong for me to offer help or did I offend him in some other way? I was confused and worried at the same time.My head was hurting a lot but I managed to finally reach the bakery. After reaching the quiet and sweet smelling confines of the shop, I ignored my headache and started working.“That’ll be 2.40” I said as I packed 2 scones and a butterfly cake for a girl, who by the way would not stop staring at Perrie. “Ahem…here’s your order” I repeated as she looked at me startled.“Oh… umm thanks” the girl looked down blushing. As she was handing me the money she was looking at Pez all the way to the other side of the counter.“Hey, why don’t you go say hi?” I suggested when she was about to leave.“What?”“I mean why don’t you go say hi to Perrie?” I said smiling, slightly tilting my head towards Perrie.“No I don’t think she’ll like that very much” She said fidgeting with her hands “What if she thinks I’m some sort of a creep…well I’ve been practically drooling over her for the past 15 minutes” she laughed shaking her head.“Trust me she would like that” I said smiling.“Yeah maybe tomorrow, anyways thanks” she replied and went out taking one last look at her.As there was not much work to do at the moment my mind kept wandering back to the thoughts of Louis.The universe worked in weird ways, someday you are just going to see this person and they just won’t leave your mind. Even though you don’t know them from atom it will all be just a familiar air around them that makes you think that they’d been around all your life.I was in my own world thinking about Louis when I felt someone tap on my shoulder.“Haz, are you all right?” Niall asked looking worried.“Yeah I’m fine, why?” my head was hurting other than that I was fine.“Your face is flushed mate” he said worriedly. “You’re burning up!” he said checking my forehead.“I had a headache when I woke up but I thought it’ll get better on its….” Before I could complete, the sneezing started. Great I had the flu, now that’s just what I needed.“I think you should rest, go home, I’ll manage it in here. Call me if you need anything” Niall said as he rushed me out of the shop.As soon as I reached my apartment I realized I had forgotten my keys at the bakery. Great, could this day get any better than this. At this point I could barely stand up, there was no way that I was going to be able to walk all the way back to the bakery. Thankfully Niall was gonna bring me the keys in an hour or so.“Hey, are you okay?” I heard someone asking, accompanied by a shake to my shoulder shortly after.“Hmm…” as soon as I opened my eyes there was blue, lots of blue. But before I could answer the sneezing began.“Yes I’m fine…must’ve dozed off” I said embarrassed. Wow I had to get locked out today out of all the days.“Oh Curly, was it so hard to unlock the door…you could’ve called me, I’m just across the hall you know?” he said smiling mischievously, and I knew right then that this Louis was my favorite. The endearment made me red to the tips of my ears, ugh how was I expected to control my reactions.“Ha..ha, left my keys at the ba…umm at my friend’s house, just waiting for him” I replied holding my breath and hoping that he did not notice my slip up.“Come on you look like you have the flu, you can rest at mine while you wait for your friend” he offered smiling in a way that left crinkles by his eyes, and my god was he beautiful. And it’s been fifteen seconds and I should reply, shouldn’t I?“I’ll even make tea and I bet my couch is be more comfortable than this wall here” he said, looking at me confusedly like I was not convinced enough and that was clearly not the case.“Yeah okay and thank you” I replied nodding at bit too fast than was considered normal which made me realize that my neck and back were stiff from sleeping while leaning against the wall. Wincing from pain I got up to follow him.It wasn’t like I didn’t trust him or anything; it was more like I did not trust myself around him to act all normal and not gawk at him openly after every five seconds.As soon as I entered the apartment I felt myself dwindling face first on to the floor when thankfully Louis caught me. “ooooff” my head was spinning as I straightened myself, universe had some very well formulated plans to embarrass me in front of the only person I wanted to impress.“I’m so sorry, so so so sorry” he started apologizing while collecting all the clothes and random pairs of shoes strewn all over the floor.“It’s ok Louis, you don’t have to apologize” I said chuckling at the way he was franticly collecting all his things flitting nervously through the living room.Sighing he dumped all his clothes in the corner “ugh I give up…I’ll make you a cuppa”.As I was walking towards the couch I could not help but stare at the way Louis was smiling in one of the pictures hanging on the wall, with him stood four beautiful girls with the same smile.“Here you go” he said putting down a steaming cup of tea in front of me on the table.“Thanks, I’m sorry if I’m troubling you.”“No worries mate” he said.“You have a lovely family” I said sipping my tea which made the pain in my throat a little more bearable.As soon as the words left my mouth I could practically feel him tensing up all the way from across the couch. “Yeah, ummm thanks” and the frown on his face clearly indicated that I should’ve just kept my mouth shut. He must miss them a lot.“I miss my family too, was actually planning to go see them soon” I said sighing.“That’s great, you should” he replied, looking away from me but too late to hide the pain that was screaming through his eyes.And all I wanted to do in that moment was to hug him tight and ask him what was wrong, but judging by the thing that happened this morning, I was afraid to scare him off. And plus I could not keep my head up and Niall was nowhere to be seen.The next time I woke up was to my phone ringing. Confusedly I looked around to realize that this was not my room and I was covered in a blanket. Looking at my phone I saw four missed calls from Niall.The phone started ringing for the fifth time when I saw Louis emerging from his bedroom, looking all soft with his hair sticking in all directions. And the reason that I wanted to just hold him was unclear even to me, it was just irrational.“Hey” he waved, covering a yawn with the other hand.“Hi…umm sorry for waking you up, I think my friend is waiting outside, thanks for the tea and letting me sleep” I said feeling awkward for falling asleep while Louis was sitting right there.“Oh don’t worry about that, you feel better now?” he asked looking a bit concerned and I won’t say that I didn’t like it.“Yeah much better” I replied, still not over the feeling that I wanted to talk more to this angel in a human’s form front of me. “See you around Lou” I said walking to the door as Niall won’t stop ringing and I could practically hear him swearing from the hallway.“Bye Curly” he smiled with crinkling eyes and suddenly I felt so much better even though I was sick earlier.The more I thought about Louis the scarier it got. How was I supposed to think anything other than him? Each time I looked into the pain that was so obvious in his eyes, it settled a deep ache inside my bones. I knew this was not normal, I mean to be so attached to someone without even knowing them.At this very second all I knew was I wanted him to be happy. And on the other hand I was not sure if he even wanted me around.All this stuff was driving me crazy when I heard Niall “Oh thank god, where the hell have ya been Haz, I’ve called you like a thousand times” he shouted with a sigh of relief.“Nothing I was just across the hallway, slept beside the door so Louis invited me in” I said while unlocking the door.“Oooooh so how was the first date” he asked in an obnoxiously sweet voice.“It was not a date I was sick and he made me tea and I fell asleep on his couch” I said covering my face with both hands, feeling stupid that I fucking fell asleep the first time I had a real chance to talk to him properly.“Aww love don’t be sad maybe next time” he said rubbing my shoulder.“Yeah or maybe he’ll never invite me again cuz I’m so boring” I said burying my face in his chest.“No you are not….just sleep yeah, I’ll be back with dinner, and don’t think too much, cuz if he can’t see you for who you are then he is wrong” he said rubbing soothing circles on my back.The ache in my throat was a bit better but I felt run down like I’d been walking for days with no sleep. So sleeping seemed like a very good idea at this point.I fell asleep thinking about crinkly blue eyes and why he was so sad while he mentioned his family, after Niall tucked me in with a kiss to my forehead. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Louis’ POV ‘Time heals everything’ that’s the common saying right? But what if that time is nowhere near? It’s been seven months and it still hurts as bad as it did, the very first day.28th August…I’ll never forget that day. The day I’d lost everything in the blink of an eye. Was life supposed to be this hard? As they laid her down on the ground, I never thought that’d be the day that I would lose everything I had.Crying over the fact never lessen the pain by a fraction. So I just got up to go out in the hope to buy some food. I could never be there for my little sisters but the mere possibility of seeing them again someday was enough to help me survive.And then there was this stranger down the hall with a runny nose, who was infuriatingly beautiful even in his sleep and who had been incredibly kind to me even with my numerous attempts to blow him off. And the strangest thing was that as soon as he walked out of the door the pain that dulled by his presence was back in full force.As I walked down the aisle after helping myself with some bread and other eatables my eyes landed on the soup cans…“No, this is not good, I should not be worried about a certain curly haired guy with a runny nose who could use a soup at this time “I thought to myself. But a part of me was craving to see him again, just to dull the pain which I was feeling inside, since he walked out of my apartment.~~~ And when I was standing in front of Harry’s door with a bowl of chicken soup it didn’t seem like such a bad idea and that was what terrified me the most “What if I lost him too? What is going to happen if he realizes I am nothing but damaged goods?” Meanwhile, I forgot that I had knocked the door and a very sleepy and ruffed haired red faced creature was opening the door for me. Oh god this is not fair. How could he still manage to look endearing even when he is sleepy?“Hi….” a dimpled smile instantly greeted me making my insides flutter.“Hey …hi …sorry to wake you up but…. soup?” I said awkwardly standing on his door.“Oh you really shouldn’t have but thank you…it’s so sweet of you” he said as he gestured me to come inside. This, according to me, was as clean as an apartment could get. Harry had all sorts of colors in his living room. There were fairy lights by the far wall near the window and the place smelled like flowers and home. As soon as I reached the couch near the coffee table, a happy little Gus greeted me with a huge lick on my face as he jumped on me.“You know I’m a little jealous….” Harry said and I gave him a confused look. “Because I’m pretty sure he likes you more than me” he said scrunching his nose with something that seemed like fond. “Oh…I think it is because of all the snot on you...” I said teasing him a bit.“Heyyyyyyyyy…..” he said in mock offence.“I’m gonna go grab a spoon…so would you like a cuppa?” he asked as he walked towards the open kitchen where there was a vase of fresh flowers on the breakfast bar.“No. But I’d like a beer if you have one?” I said.“Sure” he smiled and it was impossible not to stare at those dimples that popped out without any warning.There was a sense of comfort I felt around him which made it impossible for me to physically feel the pain that was usually omnipresent.“Here you go” he said giving me the beer as he sat down beside me to have the soup. And the way those ringlets tired to escape from his hat made it all the more endearing to watch him eat with a sniffling sound.There was silence. But not the awkward kind, but the one you feel when you sit with an old friend, the one that just comforts you knowing that they are around. A part of my brain was telling me to end it before I got addicted to those dimples and smiles which sometimes make me forget why it is difficult for me to breathe, but the other part just wanted to be with him and stay in the warmth that he brought with his mere presence. And then there was his dog in my lap refusing to budge.“Thank you so much for the soup” I heard him saying which pulled me out of my thoughts.“Umm…no need for that” I replied looking down since looking at him wasn’t clearly an option. “Get yourself together Tommo you’re not a teenage girl with a crush on this adorable soft… ugh” I was psyching myself without a real success at my side.“So did you like the city?” he asked with a genuine interest like the one you can see in a child’s eyes when they keep asking about anything and everything they lay their eyes on. No I wasn’t supposed to be this enamored by something like this.“Never got a chance to go out actually” I replied meekly because I knew I had chances but going out and interacting with actual people was too much at this point when laying on the bed and crying until the sleep took over seemed like a welcoming idea.“Oh…so what keeps you so busy that you never got time to go out? You have a job? ” he asked with a hint of frown as if me not going out was affecting this stranger so much or if how I felt was clearly written on my face to see for everyone.“Yeah I work at the book store three blocks away and it usually closes late so I never got time to do anything else” I just left it there looking at anything but him.“So what do you do harry?” I asked to avert his gaze from me.“Oh I…..I write songs for this friend of mine, his name is Ed. He owns a pub and some evenings if I get a chance I sing some of them too” he replied with a spark in his eyes “It’s not much but yeah I love it. I met Ed when I first shifted here and went to his pub one night he caught me writing some lines on a tissue and just asked me If I could write for him which was pretty awkward at first ‘cause those were just two lines you see but then….” I didn’t know when I lost the track of time or what he was saying. All I knew was that I couldn’t stop staring in those eyes and the way those lips kept moving and how those gangly arms moved all around while he was telling me the story. I was captivated all of that so it was not my fault that I didn’t catch the second half of the story.“And I have this annoying big sister but I swear to god she’s adopted” he said with false irritation when his voice was clearly affectionate while talking about her. But when he started talking about his sister it reminded me about my own sisters and the reality came crashing down on me that I would possibly never see my little sisters again and probably would never be able to talk about them in front of anyone without breaking into a million pieces all at once. So I thought it was better for me to just leave now.“Hey umm...Thank you for the beer I think I’ll just head home” I said uneasily getting up before the tightness in my chest started to feel more like a rope strangulating me.“Okay yeah… and you’re welcome” he replied confusedly at sudden change in my behavior.“It was good that you came Lou” he said softly as I was going out of the door and the nickname was practically enough for me to turn around and give him a smile which I really wanted to do but the sound part, the defensive part, was stronger so I just waved bye and left before the tears came.Even though the inevitable tears were falling down on the pillow while I was lying in my bed, for the first time in a long time I didn’t dream of that cold empty night. ~~~ Two Days Later “No Brian it’s not the same, it’s not like I’m out here enjoying the night…I have a shop to manage for fucks sake” Liam said with gritted teeth and hung up the phone after a few seconds.“Hey you okay?” I was concerned because it was the first time I had seen Liam so upset.I met Liam a week after I had moved to London. I was just passing by this book shop and the ‘salesperson needed’ sign caught my attention. And before I knew I was given a job by this very kind stranger who looked like a mixture of a serious boxer with a smile that could melt stone cold hearts. Despite all his best efforts I never talked to him properly from the time we had met but he was very friendly and always had a big smile on his face when he is talking to me. He was the most caring and kind person I had come across.“Yeah I’m okay it’s just my boyfriend” he replied sighing. “Oh…” he looked at his watch “I am so sorry Louis…I know it’s too late. I’ll close the shop now and you can head home for the day” he said, he was clearly not okay because for the first time that smile was absent.“Okay…take care” I smiled and gave him a hug to which he reacted a little late as he was surprised by the sudden change in me and I did not blame him for that. And then I left the shop. I was a bit worried about him but I thought this was not the right time to talk about it.As I opened the door to my apartment and turned on the lights I nearly died of a heart attack because my arsehole of a best friend, Zayn was sitting on the couch like a murderer.“You’re literally going to be the death of me someday” I hugged him with a relief that almost made me weak in the knees.“It’s good to see you too bebs” he hugged me tight and it felt as if we were back at home.“How’s everyone Zayn? How are my little sisters?” I asked looking in those brown eyes and feeling the tears well up in mine.“They are good Lou they just miss you a lot….Lottie and Fizzy have grown so much and don’t get me started on the number of boys I had to threaten” he said laughing, which reminded me just how much I was missing them.“I miss them too Zayn and I really wanted to talk to them, but every time I tried he wouldn’t let me” I told him and I couldn’t stop myself from crying. I sat down on the floor because it physically hurt to stand. The thought of not being able to see my sisters when they needed me the most, especially after mum’s death, made me sick."Everything will get better Lou I promise, things will get better. We can call Lottie tomorrow. She asked me to give you her number since she didn’t have yours” he held me and was rubbing my back and the fact that I would be able to hear my sister’s voice the next day made the breathing easier. I wanted to call her right that instant but Zayn was right, and tomorrow was the better choice because I was in no state of talking coherently at this time. I was their big brother and I should be strong for them. Even though they had not seen me in ages, I knew that they would look up to me.Eventually as my tears dried down and the tremors stopped Zayn got up and he made sandwich for the both of us which we ate in silence. I knew he had so much to tell me but could only say so much if I reacted so poorly.“How are Daisy and Phoebe” I asked timidly.“They’re mischievous as ever, you’ve got competition Lou” he replied smiling but somewhat wary.“Hmm..” was all I could manage to say as I got up to put the plates in the kitchen.“Hey Lou I forgot to tell you, there was a cupcake and a note outside your door when I came here, I have kept it on the kitchen table” he said.For a second I stopped because I had completely forgotten about the mysterious notes which I use to find at my door. The fact that there was someone leaving them on doorway was weird and awkward but those little things did help me get through the days in the past. I know that someone was watching me and I should be careful about it but then those notes were cute and never meant any harm so I never bothered to worry about them. But one thing was definite that I really wanted to meet this person someday.“Is that supposed to be a gift or something from someone?” He asked while scrolling through his phone.“To be honest I don’t know Zayn” I told him and he looked up from his phone and asked “what do you mean you don’t know?” and I continued “I know it’s weird but there are these little notes and a cupcake sometimes at my door but I never bothered much about it” I replied somewhat nervous as to what he might think. “Lou you know that’s not good” he said in a worried tone “It’s sweet but still it could be anyone”.“Yeah I know but I really don’t know what to do about it” I said as I wandered off into the kitchen to pick up the note and the cupcake. Summertime and butterflies All belong to your creation There were these two lines with a smiley on the side. I kept it aside and went to my room and brought the last notes and picking up the one I received today handed them all to Zayn “See…how can I possibly think that someone who wrote these notes would be threatening in any way?”“I know but please be careful yeah?” he said, concerned, and I know he was worried and was trying to protect me. It had always been him and me against the world from day one. It was him who had listened to my whispered confessions at night about how I didn’t like girls. It was him who held me when I cried my eyes out because my dad told me I am a disgrace to the family when I came out to him. It was always him. Whether it was a playground full of mean kids who always picked on me or the whole world against me I knew he would always be there.We spent rest of the night talking about every stupid thing we could remember from our childhood and neither of us paid attention to what time it was. It was when my phone lit up with a notification showing 12:45 it occurred to me that it is really late.“Its 12.45” I told him.“Oh yeah... you should sleep Lou. You have work tomorrow right?” he got up “I can take the couch” he said as he went to get the blanket. “No Zayn, you don’t have to take the couch. You can sleep in my room, that’s alright and I really don’t wanna sleep alone” I said frowning because I knew Zayn wouldn’t melt for a cuddle that easily.“Fine” he replied rolling his eyes as walked ahead of me to the bedroom.Sleep wasn’t that easy like usual but today at least it felt like home with Zayn here. I slept to the thought of seeing my sisters again someday. And as soon as sleep took over, a dimpled smile was the last thing I saw behind my closed eyelids. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry’s POV It was 6 am and the day started same as any other. “Isn’t She Lovely” by Stevie Wonder was playing softly in the background while I was nursing my tea. Everything was same except there was this single thought that consumed my mind for most of the time these days. It had been two days since I had last seen Louis leaving my door with tear rimmed eyes. And seeing him like that was hurting me so much and if I could I would’ve done anything to take away that pain from him. While waiting for the last batch of cupcakes to be done I sat down to write the note that I was going to leave on his door today. “Good Morning Haz” Niall startled me out of my thoughts. “How are ya?” he asked me with that ever present smile on his face. This little Irish shit has been smiling since the first day I met him at the culinary school. He was one of the most easygoing people I had ever met in my life. One second there was this stranger, who I had been partnered with and the now here we were after four years, inseparable. “I’m good” I replied. “Doesn’t seem like it” he said with an obvious question mark at the end. “I don’t know Ni I just can’t seem to stop thinking about him. It’s been two days and I kind of miss him and want to see him.” I replied somewhat irritated about the whole situation. “Come on Haz, stop sulking will ya and do something about it” Niall said in an exasperated tone. “I’m not sulking okay” I replied as I pulled off my apron to go back home after my shift. ‘’Sure’’ he said rolling his eyes and walked towards the counter and I couldn’t care less. So what if I was a little sad about not seeing Louis for two days, not everyone is happy every second of everyday. “Hey Haz, I think you should talk to him about the notes and the cupcakes mate” Niall said when I was about to leave. “Yeah? And tell him what? Hi I’m the creep who’s been keeping those notes with cupcakes at your door?? He’s going to freak out and hate me for doing that Ni. You don’t know…I can’t seem to figure him out. I mean one second he is bringing me soup and we are talking and the next moment he just bolts for no apparent reason. And trust me when I am telling you that talking to him about the notes and cupcakes is not going to help here” I sighed sitting down and laying my head on my folded arms over the table. ‘’What was I even thinking while writing those notes for Louis? Yeah sure I had seen him with the cupcake in the elevator once but that didn’t necessarily mean that he liked the notes or the mere aspect of some stranger sending those to him…I don’t know Niall…I feel so stupid and confused’’ Niall hugged me “Its alright Haz…I know everything will work out somehow”. I didn’t know if that is going to happen or not but somehow I did felt better. It was merely impossible to not smile in Niall’s presence. “Maybe you could ask him out to the lads night we planned this weekend it won’t be awkward since we’ll all be there and I will get to see what’s got you so strung up” he said smiling. “I don’t know Ni if he will even agree to that” I said because by the look of current events I know the chances of that happening were slim. “Come on Haz…you can at least try” he said rubbing my back. “Okay I will, but if he says no then that’s on you and be prepared for real actual sulking”. “Wanna bet?’’ he wiggled his eyebrows and I couldn’t stop smiling. “Because I know he won’t be able to resist those dimples” he said poking one to prove his point, which felt more like he was trying to irritate me. “Okay fine” I said getting away from his sticky fingers on my face. On my way out Niall simply hugged me “don’t worry too much I’ll see ya later”. I smiled and got out of the shop.Walking through the quiet streets of London in the cold morning was somewhat hauntingly beautiful. ~~~ As I opened the door to my apartment I found a sleepy Gus underneath the fairy lights. Looking at the little monster sleeping I was convinced that he just had a problem with me sleeping. After fixing myself with a cup of tea and Gus with a bowl of his usual food I sat down to write the note. Once in a lifetime It’s just right And we are always safe Not even the bad guys In the dark night Could take it all away Louis won’t know who had sent this note but I hoped maybe these lines would convey the things I actually wanted to say to his face. The more notes I started to leave the more I was convinced that maybe it wasn’t a very good idea. But since I had seen him with the cupcake, it was good to know that at least he wasn’t throwing them away along with the notes. Like always keeping the cupcake and note quietly on the door mat I tugged Gus towards the lift. If it were up to him he would actually sit there happily on Louis’ front door waiting. I swear Gus liked him more than me, and I couldn’t blame him. I mean let’s be honest I’d do the same, if it were not for the basic etiquette of personal space and manners. I was really going out of mind for this boy. Morning walk was always something that Gus enjoyed the most. What with all the birds and the joggers he could happily chase in the park.“ No Gus, come here boy” I tried to tug him out from under the bench. Apparently he enjoyed chasing the butterflies. When one flew away from his reach it lead to the search for a new one. “Harry, is that you?” I heard an oddly familiar voice calling me from behind. I turned around and it was Alex, my high school friend or ex boyfriend to be accurate. “Oh hey Hi, it’s great to see you Alex” I hugged him, somewhat shocked to see him after so many years.Last I had heard he was at the States. We had both split on good terms, what with him going so far away. Seeing him again brought back all the good old memories of getting drunk for the first time and the first kiss I had. It was a nostalgic feeling to see him after so many years. “How have you been? And what are you doing here?” I asked while Gus returned besides me to look at the stranger he was seeing for the very first time. “I was in States and came back here like two months ago on a business trip and I just never went back. I was homesick.” he replied with a genuine smile on his face. He didn’t talk much on the topic but for now this was enough. “And who might be this” he crouched down to Gus' level. “Oh he's my monster of a dog Gus” I replied rubbing his ears. “Aww he's so cute” he said as he ruffled Gus' head. Alex didn’t change much. He was the same as I remembered him…all shy smiles, dirty blond hair and soft brown eyes. I could say he made my life a little easier during high school. “So I was thinking if you’re free this weekend maybe we could go out for dinner? Catch up on things?” he asked with an uncertainty which was very much like the younger version of him. “Oh I would love to” I replied. “Here enter your number and just text me your address yeah?” he said handing me his phone. After giving him my number we both sat on a bench remembering all the silly things that made up our child hood.The days we spent climbing the old tree in my backyard. We laughed over how I got stuck in the tree once and Alex was running around screaming for help with tears streaming down his face, and how he was the one who was calmed down by both of our mums, despite of me being the one in a cast for a month due to the accident. After an hour we both said goodbye and headed our separate ways. It was difficult for me to tug an enamored Gus away from the colorful butterflies. As I turned around the corner and looked towards Louis’ door, a relieved breath escaped my mouth when I saw that the cupcake and note were both missing and were hopefully in the hands of the very person I wanted to see so badly, it was becoming irrational. ~~~ Finally after the usual ordeal of any given morning I walked out of my apartment and into the lift to be met by none other than Louis who looked painfully beautiful with messy brown fringe and an oversized lavender jumper. I was enchanted with every little thing about this person, from those fingers peeking out of the long sleeves to the tired blue eyes which indicated lack of sleep. Everything was just simply endearing. And once again I was so busy staring at the actual angel in a human form, that I almost missed a hand around Louis’ waist. There stood an almost unrealistically gorgeous man besides Louis. All dark hair and soft hazel brown eyes with cheekbones sculpted by the gods themselves. “Hi Curly” Louis waved shyly at me. It was the first time I willingly saw him talking to me. The shock of it wore off almost too quickly because there was this possessive arm littered with numerous tattoos around him. “Hi Lou” I replied anyways not looking away from Louis’ eyes. I could see the other man smiling at Louis with so much adoration like he admired every little thing about him. And the way Louis leaned onto him showed how much this person meant to him. “How are you Lou” I asked him. “I’m good” he replied with a genuine smile which crinkled his eyes almost to the point where they were barely open. Lift doors opened on the ground floor and we all got out. “Ahem babe who’s your friend” the beautiful man asked him. “Oh sorry how rude of me Harry this is Zayn...Zayn this is Harry my neighbour” he gestured towards me. “Nice to meet you Harry” Zayn shook hand with me. If I wasn’t insanely jealous of this god like person which could be Louis’ boyfriend, what with the nick name and holding him around the waist, I would have replied with the same sentiment. “Umm yeah, see you soon Lou” I waved at him and fled the seen as soon as possible. He would’ve surely told Zayn about the notes and now I was pretty scared about what he would think of me if he’ll know that it was me all along. Lost in thoughts I reached the bakery with a tired body and a sinking feeling in my stomach. “Hi Haz” Niall greeted me with a huge smile that never left his face. If Niall thought that I was sulking in the morning, he had something else coming along his way that he was totally unaware of.Sensing the lack of my response, he left the order he was packing and stood beside me with a worried look “Hazza everything okay?” "No Ni, nothing is okay I feel so stupid” I said leaning on him for the support only he could provide me. “I saw Louis today and he was with his boyfriend, and from what I saw in those two minutes he’s a really good guy and he adores him, and he was really fit” I said feeling more and more sullen as I told him everything. “Okay now…just take a breath and stop for a minute. So tell me…did Louis say that the other person that you are talking so highly of was his boyfriend?” Niall asked. “No, but it looked like that and I could see it” I said which sounded more like whining to me, which was embarrassing to be honest, but at this point I couldn’t care less. Niall took me to the far end towards the last table and gave me a water bottle to drink while he finished packing his order. As I looked up I saw the girl who was eyeing Perri the other day was back and supposedly this time not so shy to go up to Pez. I could see them talking and blushing over something, and it was endearing to watch. I was glad that she finally had the courage to actually go and tell Pez that she liked her, which brought me back to my situation which sadly involves a boyfriend as of today. I had laid my head on the table when Niall returned with a croissant. “So did you ask him out?” “Seriously Ni? You think I would ask him out when he would rather want to spend his time with his boyfriend” I rolled my eyes pushing the French pastry away and laying my head back on my arms again because clearly nothing was helping me at this point. I thought maybe if I buried my head and slept through it, I won’t feel as bad when I wake up. “Listen Harry, he DID NOT say that this person is his boyfriend and I promise you that if you don’t ask him out I will which is going to be embarrassing” and that was the end of Niall Horan's speech for taking me out of my bad mood. The whole day was composed of a blushing Perri, every time Niall teased her about Valerie, the girl who finally asked her out after so many visits to the bakery. Niall kept giving me side glances which could only be defined as glares, warning me to ask Louis out before the weekend which gave me only two days to muster up the strength to do so. And then there was poor me stuck between the thoughts of a blue eyed hedgehog who might have a boyfriend.
10395276	Moshka	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Nea Walker, Johnny Gill, Past!Allen Walker", "Fandom": "D.Gray-man", "Language": "Русский", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Marianne_Cross", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-21T00:00:00", "words": "509", "Additional Tags": "Angst, Drama, Missing Scene, Memories, Past Relationship(s)", "Relationship": "Allen Walker/Nea Walker", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "D.Gray-man Alphabet", "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 }	Нэа сразу захотел убить Джонни. Такого надоедливого, вьющегося за ним по миру, все еще принимая за господина Аллена.Все в нем – сплошное раздражение: цвет мягкий кудрей, благожелательный цвет глаз за толстыми стеклами нелепых очков. Он знал все о Джонни, что тот слишком горяч, а сам при том совсем не сильнее той же мошки. Что на многое слишком готов, чтобы вернуть своего господина Аллена, значит тем самым готов сделать все, чтобы вновь заставить его уснуть.А еще – готов заботиться, оберегать, сюсюкать, словно они друзья.Смешно.Нэа знавал когда-то таких, немного похожих. Такого похожего... теплый цвет его волос теперь выцвел до седины, и очки оказались уже не нужны, его глазами он четко видит раздражающего Джонни возле себя, спящим на соседней кровати.Узнав его, впустив в свое сердце, Нэа стал слаб, Нэа проиграл.Вместо того, чтобы оттачивать планы уничтожения Маны, Нэа постоянно отвлекался на раздумья о его безопасности, о его сохранности, о его роли в своей судьбе.Он отдал Нэа сперва сердце, затем – память, чтобы вернуться в мир, где от него остались лишь черты лица, да и только. Погрубевшие на ветрах, погрустневшие в борьбе, печали, потерях. Память его изменилась, и в ней совсем не осталось места для Нэа, нисколечко, ни самой толики хотя бы обрывочной мысли о том, кем был он когда-то, кем был сам для себя и для него, ставшего в последствии Четырнадцатым, но всегда – бывшего второй части самого Тысячелетнего Графа, может быть, самой одержимой, самой жестокой.Но стоило лицу отразиться в таких же толстостекольных, как у Джонни, очках Аллена, как улыбка сама собой озаряла лицо.Аллена никто никогда не заменит, но Джонни так и будет тянуть к лицу свои теплые руки, чтобы напомнить о самом грустном, самом болезненным, что ломает изнутри еще больше, чем есть сейчас.Нэа вспоминает, каким был Аллен – мечтательным, тоже теплым, никогда не предполагавшим, что станет однажды экзорцистом, держащим меч, врагом, настоящим врагом, чья только лишь одна близость наносит вреда больше, чем бой на смерть.Что бы сказал Аллен о Джонни? Тот, прежний, с таким тонким умом?Раз в библиотеке горничная ловила мушку на полоску измазанной патокой бумаги. Та попалась и билась, надрывая усталые крылья. Аллен тогда попросил убить ее. Такую безвредную, виноватую лишь тем, что докучлива.Аллен бы не позволил сравнить ее с человеком, но Аллена уже больше нет, как нет и Нэа, а брат Мана – есть, и столкнуться с его медленным, мстительным гневом, способным довести до безумия, много хуже, чем принять свою судьбу быстро.Так ведь, Аллен?Аллен ему не ответит, и Нэа почти трясет: от волнения, злости, от страха.Если бы только Аллен ответил, но вместо него заговорил Джонни – чересчур эмоционально, чересчур беспардонно, игнорируя то, что внутри у Нэа – буря, что ему тяжело, что с его появлением исчезает Аллен. Пусть он даже уже не тот, кем был, а лишь бледная тень себя самого, такого милого, такого жертвенного союзника, что сумел вызвать любовь да в ком-то вроде Нэа.Его собственной рукой он ударил, многосильно, насмерть, как прихлопнул бы муху. Не потому, что в этом была особенная необходимость.Просто Нэа на горьком опыте усвоил – доброта так заразна, что способна в совсем неудобное время помешать рушить мир.
10352823	Switcharound	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Daniel Jackson, Sha're (Stargate), Jack O'Neill, Samantha \"Sam\" Carter, Cassandra Fraiser, Janet Fraiser, George Hammond, Original Female Character(s)", "Fandom": "Stargate SG-1", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by UnaSpectre", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2002-12-10T00:00:00", "words": "8,677", "Additional Tags": "Angst, Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Friendship", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Daniel Jackson/Sha're, Minor Samantha \"Sam\" Carter/Jack O'Neill - 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 }	Daniel blinked in amazement at the suddenly pitch black room he was in. This was strange. One minute he was in the middle of a brightly lit lab then the lights were gone.Without warning a light went on and a young woman with cool blue eyes and long dark-blonde hair wearing pyjamas appeared.“Geez Danny,” she snapped in annoyance, “What are you doing?”Daniel stared at her in confusion looking around to find himself in a living room. A picture on the mantelpiece caught his eye. Drawn he walked over and picked it up. It was his parents with him, like he was now and the woman who was standing bleary-eyed watching him.“Danny,” she sighed joining him looking at the picture, “I miss them too but you need to sleep. We both do.””Who are you?” Daniel asked, “What is going on?”She tilted her head worriedly at him, “Danny, I’m Alison. Your sister.”He stared at her.Alison took his arm, “Come on, get some sleep and we’ll talk about this in the morning. Okay?”He nodded letting her lead him to a room. The room however was a kid’s bedroom, filled with children’s books on Egypt and pyramids made from paper.“This is my room?” he asked.“Danny, it’s two in the morning,” Alison sighed, obviously trying to be patient but losing, “Please, just get some sleep.”Deciding to play along Daniel nodded, “Goodnight.”“Night Danny,” she smiled fondly at him before closing the door. Morning arrived and Daniel jumped as the alarm clock beside him started playing the most irritating tune. Getting up he looked around the room finding everything was for children aged five to eight. He found another picture of his parents and picked it up looking at them sadly wondering if they were proud of him. It had the woman Alison in it too, his sister? There was a knock on the door and it opened to reveal Alison.“Hey sleepyhead,” she smiled, “Come on. Get dressed and I’ll treat you to breakfast that I actually haven’t burned.”“Sure,” he nodded softly as she left the room.“Okay, play along Daniel,” he said to himself, “Find out what is going on.”Leafing through the wardrobe he pulled out some clothes and quickly dressed before heading downstairs to where Alison was sitting reading a paper. She smiled when he joined her and handed him the comic strips.“Your morning read,” she said taking a quick drink of coffee, “Okay, I have to work late today but Mrs Peters next door will be here when you get back.”“Stop,” Daniel said, “Look, I don’t understand what the hell is going on here but until you opened the door last night I’d never seen you before in my life.”Alison groaned, “Danny, you’ve got to stop this. If you start acting like this they’ll take you away from me and they’ll put you back in the clinic. You don’t want that, neither of us do.”“I’m not acting,” Daniel cried before slipping into Abydonian to swear a little.Alison stared at him, “What did you just say?”Daniel looked slightly embarrassed, “You don’t want to know.”She stood up and walked over to him taking his face in her hands, “Danny,” she suddenly frowned in confusion, “Where’s your scar?”“What scar?”“The scar from the accident,” she said turning his face from side to side, “The one that’s been on your forehead since you were eight,” she let go of him and stepped back horror etched on her face, “You’re not my brother.”“I could have told you that.”“Who are you and where is Danny?” she demanded.“I am Daniel Jackson,” Daniel replied trying to soothe her, “I have an idea about what’s happened but it might be hard to believe.”“My brother who has a mental age of eight is missing,” Alison cried, “In his place is his doppelganger. At the moment I’d believe anything.”“Okay, I think I’ve switched places with your Daniel,” he explained, “I’m from a different Earth.” “A different Earth?”“An alternate reality,” Daniel continued, “I know this is hard to accept but I need to get back to my own world.”“Okay, okay,” Alison cried, “Give me a minute while I call in sick for both of us.”Daniel waited listening to her on the phone his mind working away. He knew the only option he really had was to find the SGC and hope there was a Jack O’Neill and Sam Carter there. Sam would be able to help.“Okay Danny,” Alison said as she sat back down trying to be calm.“I prefer Daniel,” he told her.“Daniel, where is my brother?” Alison demanded.“I’m hoping he’s in my reality,” Daniel told her, “Jack will take care of him.”“Jack?”“Colonel Jack O’Neill, he’s a friend,” Daniel explained, “I’m hoping he exists here too because they will be the only ones who can help.”“Fine, where do we find him?” *******************************************“What’s up Doc?” Jack asked as he jogged into the infirmary.“Colonel,” Janet sighed, “Thank goodness. It’s about Daniel.”“What’s wrong?” he demanded worry replacing the cheerful look.“Did anything unusual happen to Daniel when you were on the planet?” Janet asked as they walked towards where Daniel was.“He got an electric shock,” Jack shrugged, “Seemed a little out of it coming back.”“You have to see him,” Janet said pulling back the curtain.Daniel was curled up in the corner on the bed his blue eyes darting fearfully around the room. On his forehead was a long jagged scar.“Danny,” Janet said gently, “There’s someone to see you.”“Who?” came the small voice, “Is it Alison?”“Who’s Alison?” Jack whispered to Janet.“I don’t know,” she shrugged before turning back to the figure on the bed, “Danny, this is Jack.”“Hi,” Danny said softly.“Hi,” Jack replied confused, “So who is Alison?”“My sister,” Danny said, “She takes care of me.”“Danny, I have to talk to the Doctor for a few minutes,” Jack said, “But I’ll be back to talk to you soon. Okay?”Danny nodded as Jack and Janet moved away.“What the hell is going on?” Jack cried, “Why doesn’t he know us and where the hell did he get that scar?”“I don’t think this is our Daniel,” Janet said, “From what I can tell he had an accident that caused brain damage. Now, he seems to have a mental age of I’d say about eight to ten years old and he’s extremely scared. You have to treat him very gently just now.”Jack nodded, “We better talk to Hammond about this. Let’s not overwhelm him but we should get him out of the infirmary.”“I agree,” Janet said, “You take him and try to make him feel comfortable. I’ll speak to the General.”Jack sighed, “Okay Doc.” Jack went back in to see Danny who was still curled up fearfully on top of the bed. Jack could see he had been crying and sat down on the chair beside him.“Hi there Danny,” he said softly.“I want to go home,” came the quiet reply, “Can I go home now?”“Danny,” Jack said softly, “Something’s happened that means you have to stay with us for the moment.”“Is Alison hurt?” he asked scared.“Not that I know of,” Jack said, “You don’t mind staying here do you?”Danny looked at him and nodded, “Okay.”“That a boy,” Jack grinned, “Come on. Let’s get you to a nicer room.”Jack stood up and waited for the younger man to join him. Nervously Danny got up and walked with him through the corridors of the SGC. They reached a VIP room that Janet had put aside for him.“It’s not much but we’ll get you some stuff that you can do,” Jack told him.“I’m tired,” Danny told him.“Well get some sleep,” Jack smiled, “And I’ll come see you later.” “Do we have any idea how this happened?” Sam asked, “I mean he just seemed slightly dazed when we came back through the Gate.”“I’m afraid I don’t know,” Janet said, “His hat hid the scar so there was no way we could have known.”Hammond frowned, “We have to find some way to get our own Dr Jackson back.”“Sir,” Jack said, “The version we’ve got just now is a child. He’s scared, we may need someone to keep him company and calm.”“What about Cassandra?” Teal’c asked, “She would not be threatening in any way.”“That’s a good idea,” Janet said, “I’ll send Major Ferretti to collect her from school.” *****************************************“Can I ask you something?” Daniel said to Alison as they sat in the living room.“Sure,” she sighed, “Whatever.”“What happened to Danny?” he asked.Alison sighed again, “When he was eight our parents were fixing this thing in the museum. Danny got restless and decided to look around. Mom went after him while Dad was talking to the foreman. Suddenly the chain holding the coverstone snapped and it fell. A piece broke off and struck Danny right in the front of his head. The injury was so bad he was in a coma for about three weeks. When he woke up it was discovered the brain damage was severe and that his mental age never went past eight years old,” Alison closed her eyes before looking at Daniel with sorrow in her eyes, “The saddest thing is he remembers how smart he once was. The day I passed him in my reading abilities was horrible. I remember how much he cried in Mom’s arms because he knew he’d never get any smarter than he was.”Daniel stared at the ground, “At least they were alive. Where I came from that accident was when ‘my’ parent’s were killed.”“Then I don’t exist where you come from?” Alison asked, “No wonder you were so spooked by me.”“We have to fix this,” Daniel said, “We have to go to Colorado and try and find the people I know.”“But they won’t know you here,” Alison said, “Are you sure you can persuade them?”“If they work in Cheyenne Mountain then I’ll be able to persuade them,” Daniel said.“Then I’ll book us on the first available flight.”“Alison,” Daniel called as she moved to the phone.She turned back to him, “Yes?”“Thank you,” Daniel said, “For believing me, for helping me.”“I’m trying to help my brother,” she told him, “No matter what reality he’s from.” Daniel stopped in front of Jack’s door; well what he hoped was Jack’s door and took a deep breath.“Are you alright?” Alison asked gently.“Just a little worried,” Daniel confessed, “If Jack isn’t here I’m going to have to try get into Cheyenne Mountain and that’s not going to be easy.”“Danny…Daniel you just have to go for this,” Alison said, “Please try. I’m really worried about Danny.”He gave her arm a squeeze, “Here goes,” he knocked.Daniel nearly let out a yell of relief as Jack O’Neill answered the door.“Yeah?” Jack asked seeing them standing there.“Colonel Jack O’Neill?” Daniel asked.“Yes,” suspicion filled his voice.“I need to speak with you,” Daniel said taking a few more deep breaths, “Concerning the Stargate.”Jack stared at him with a cold icy glare, “The what?”“Look, I really don’t want to stand on your doorstep and repeat everything I know,” Daniel told him, “But I will stand here and go through Gate addresses, Gould power structures and allies of the Tauri.”Jack stared at him; “Get inside.”Daniel sighed in relief and led Alison inside the house. He jumped as Sam appeared from the kitchen. He instantly noted she couldn’t be Air Force; her hair was long like it always was when he’d met Dr Samantha Carter in any other alternate dimension.“Sam,” he said without thinking.“Who are you?” Sam demanded staring at them.“Sam,” Jack said, “He came to talk about some things he shouldn’t know.”“Jack…” Daniel started before stopping his eyes widening in disbelief as another figure entered the room, “Sha’re?”The young woman Daniel knew as his wife stopped and looked at him confused, “Who are you?”“Oh God I didn’t expect this,” Daniel sighed rubbing the bridge of his nose.“Daniel?” Alison asked concerned, “What’s wrong?”“Nothing,” he reassured her before taking a few more deep breaths, “Jack…” he stopped as Jack gave him a icy look, “Sorry, Colonel. I need your help.”“My help?” Jack asked cynically, “I have no clue who you are yet you show up at my door and tell me I have to help you.”“Can we sit?” Alison asked interrupting the tirade, “It’s been a really long day.”Sam nodded, “Take a seat. Do you want something to drink?”“Sam,” Jack said.“Jack, we’re being nice to our guests,” Sam returned his look with one of equal power.Daniel suddenly noticed the identical rings on their hands and gave a soft smile thinking how amusing Jack’s look would be when he was told that he and Sam were married in yet another alternate reality.“No thank you,” Alison answered softly as they took a seat on the couch.“Okay,” Daniel interrupted his eyes drifting to Sha’re every so often, “My name is Dr Daniel Jackson and I’m a member of SG1.”“No you’re not,” Jack argued.“Not in this reality,” Daniel replied stressing that, “Tell me you’ve encountered the Quantum Mirror, please.”“Yes,” Sam said intrigued, “On P3R 233 I accidentally passed through it into an alternate universe…”“Where the Gould were attacking?” Daniel asked hopefully.Sam nodded, “Thanks to them we managed to stop Apophis. You came through a Mirror?”Daniel shook his head, “No. I seem to have come here some other way and I’ve swapped places with the me who should be here.”“Really?” Sha’re asked making Daniel jump.“The Daniel Jackson who should be here is the brother of Alison,” Daniel explained, “I was on a planet, P2W 444. There was a lab and I touched something. I felt an electric shock and the next thing I knew I was standing in a pitch-black room. Alison turned on the light and I discovered myself in Chicago.”Jack looked at Alison, “What about you?”“I only realised that he wasn’t my brother when I saw his scar wasn’t there,” Alison explained.“What scar?” Sha’re asked, “Why is that so important?”Alison looked at Daniel, “Are you okay with me telling this?”“It wasn’t me,” Daniel reminded her, “Just tell them.”Alison nodded, “When my brother was eight there was an accident. He was struck in the head by a piece of sandstone, which placed him in a coma for several weeks. When he woke up the extent of the brain damage was revealed. He bears a long jagged scar across his forehead. It is visible ever since he was forced to get his hair cut.”Jack chewed on his lip, “Sam, have we ever been to the planet he was on?”Sam went through the list she had in her mind and shook her head, “I don’t think so.”“Please,” Daniel said, “We need your help. I need to get back home and Alison wants her brother back.”Jack looked at Daniel feeling the genuineness radiating from the young man and the worry from the woman beside him. Taking a quick glance at the other two women standing in the room Jack finally nodded.“I want to make a few calls,” Jack said, “Sam, Sha’re, stay with our…guests.” *****************************************“How is he?” Hammond asked Jack as they stood outside the VIP room where Danny was with Cassie.“Cassie has plenty of movies for them to watch. They’re drawing and playing board games,” Jack sighed, “He seems okay.”“Good,” Hammond nodded, “Are we any closer to discovering where our Daniel Jackson is?”“Carter is working on the video footage we have,” Jack replied, “Teal’c is going over it separately to see if either of them can pick up anything.”“I want updates,” Hammond told him, “You can go in and see him, you know.”Jack dropped his head slightly, “I’m going to, in a minute or so.”Hammond clapped Jack’s shoulder comfortingly before he left. Jack took a few deep breaths before he put a grin on his face and opened the door.“Jack!!” Danny grinned seeing him come in, “Do you wanna see what I drew?”“Sure Danny,” Jack smiled sitting with him and Cassie, “Are you and Cassie having fun?”Danny nodded enthusiastically, “Here look,” he handed Jack a drawing.Jack looked at it with a smile, “So who’s who?”Danny grinned, “That’s my Mommy and Daddy,” he pointed to the two figures in the middle, “That’s me.”“Who’s this?” Jack asked.“Alison,” Danny smiled, “She takes care of me now Mommy and Daddy have gone to heaven.”Cassie glanced at Jack who looked at her questioningly. She shook her head letting him know that Danny hadn’t told her anything about this.“When did they go to heaven?” Jack asked gently, seeing the tears start to well in the young mans eyes.“Few months ago,” Danny answered shortly before suddenly starting to cry.Jack motioned Cassie to leave for the moment while he rocked the child trapped inside the body of a man, a man who looked like his best friend. “He cried himself to sleep,” Jack reported when they were sitting in the briefing room, “Looks like his parents only died a few months ago. I’m going to ask him about his scar when he’s awake. See if we can find out what happened to him.”“Well,” Sam joined the conversation, “I’m afraid I have nothing to report.”“Major?” Hammond asked.“There was absolutely nothing on that tape to tell us what happened,” Sam sighed, “Unless you saw something I didn’t Teal’c.”“Unfortunately I must concur with Major Carter,” Teal’c said, “There was nothing on that tape.”“Damn,” Jack sighed, “We can’t keep him busy forever. He may have the mind of a child but he’s curious and he’ll want to know why he can’t see his sister.”“Cassandra, you are the one who’s been spending time with him,” Hammond said, “What are your observations on him.”Cassie looked shocked that she was being asked anything but gathered her thoughts quickly, “He’s very like our Daniel. He loves Egypt and anything to do with it. He’s very curious and talks a lot when he has a subject he knows about. He misses his sister.”“Has he told you anything about her?” Janet asked.“Quite a bit,” Cassie said, “She’s about ten years younger than him and a linguist. She teaches languages at the University and tutors school kids too. He adores her completely but he’s scared she’s hurt and that’s why he’s here.” “Well done Cassandra,” Hammond smiled, “Thank you for your help in this.”“I like him,” Cassie said, “I want to help him get home.”“I’ve decided to send SG2 back to the planet,” Hammond said, “Colonel before you argue I want you to stay with our guest. He trusts you and I have a feeling we’ll need his trust when we try to send him home.”“Sir, I think Teal’c and I should go with SG2,” Sam said, “We can look for any similarities.”“Good idea Major,” Hammond said, “Get geared up.” “You look tired,” Janet commented to Jack as they both stood outside the door to Danny’s room.“Well it matches how I feel,” Jack gave her a lopsided grin, “This is truly bizarre. I keep waiting for him to spout off some obscure language or something but it doesn’t happen. He’s so fragile and scared.”“Colonel, you’ve created a relationship with him,” Janet reminded him, “He’s opened up to you. He trusts you, I want you to make sure he doesn’t lose that stability.”Jack nodded, “Sure Janet. Cassie’s being great with him.”“She wants to help,” Janet smiled, “You should go in and give him some breakfast.”Jack picked up the tray and walked in to find Danny still asleep. Jack smiled seeing how sweet and innocent he looked. He placed the tray beside Danny before he took a seat and flipped through the drawings Danny had done.In each one was four people. Yet every time Danny had drawn himself he was separated from the others and he had long hair that never showed a scar.Looking up he saw Danny was awake and watching him.“Hey sleepy,” Jack grinned, “Breakfast is next to you.”Danny turned and slowly started to eat as Jack moved over to sit beside him.“Your pictures are really good,” Jack said to him, “But I was wondering about something.”“What?” Danny asked between mouthfuls.“You,” Jack said, “In each picture your hair doesn’t look like it does now. Why?” Danny covered his forehead with his hand, “Can I get a hat?”“Why do you want a hat Danny?”“Because they cut my hair,” he replied quietly, “They said it wasn’t neat and I shouldn’t have it like that.”“Who said that?” Jack asked.“People at the clinic,” Danny replied, “I had to go there for a while.”“Why?”Danny looked at the floor, “Can I get a hat?”“I promise,” Jack said, “I just need you to tell me about the clinic.”“Alison was sad when Mommy and Daddy died,” Danny whispered, “She couldn’t care for me. I had to go to the clinic.”“How long were you there?” Jack asked.“A week,” Danny said, “Alison came for me after that. She was mad about my hair so she let me wear a hat.”“She sounds like a great person,” Jack smiled.Danny nodded enthusiastically, “She’s really smart,” suddenly he dropped his head, “I used to be like that.”“Like what?”Two sad blue eyes fixed on him, “Smart. I could speak other languages and I could remember things for long times. Until this,” Danny touched the scar on his head.“I’m going to go get you your hat,” Jack said, “Then how about we go for a walk?”Danny smiled at him nodding.“But only if you finish your breakfast,” Jack smiled as he left. *****************************************Daniel stood at the window to Jack’s spare room staring out across scenery that was so familiar to him yet not the place he knew. He jumped as a hand touched his shoulder.“Sorry,” Sha’re apologised, “I thought you may want some coffee.”“Thank you,” he said softly, taking the mug she offered him, “I was just thinking.”“Your friend has fallen asleep,” Sha’re told him.“Technically she’s my sister,” Daniel smiled at her his eyes dancing over her face before he looked out the window again.“May I ask you something?” Sha’re was hesitant.“Of course,” Daniel said turning back to her.“I know you know us all from your world,” she said, “But when you saw me there was something else. What was it?”Daniel averted his eyes from her curious stare, “Nothing.”“You seemed upset when you saw me,” she pressed, placing a hand on his arm.Feeling her touch Daniel covered her hand with his before turning back to her placing the mug down.“Are you sure you want to know?” he asked moving closer to her.Sha’re slowly nodded closing her eyes as he very gently kissed her. When they parted she stared at him in amazement.“I’m sorry,” Daniel said, “I shouldn’t have done that.”“No, I…” Sha’re whispered, “Then we were…in your world…”“Married,” Daniel sighed moving away from her and sitting down on the bed, “I lost her a long time ago.”Sha’re sat beside him entwining her fingers with his before turning him to look at her. Very slowly she moved closer to him and kissed him wrapping her arms around him tightly. After a second of hesitation Daniel responded. “Well?” Sam asked Jack when he finished his calls.“Hammond agreed for us to bring them into the base,” Jack sighed, “Where are they?”“Alison has fallen asleep on the couch,” Sam told him, “Daniel went into the spare room a while ago to stare out the window. Sha’re went to see him.”“What do you think about all of this?” Jack asked taking a seat at the kitchen table.“I had a talk with Alison,” Sam told him dropping into the seat across from him, “She’s extremely worried about her brother who is mentally handicapped but she trusts Daniel Jackson completely. He seems to be very smart.”“In your league?” Jack asked her with a grin.“More so,” Sam smiled, “He’s not an astrophysicist but in his own fields he’s amazingly intelligent. According to him he figured out the Stargate and when we checked dates he did it a year before I did.”“Wow,” Jack murmured, “He seemed kind of nervous around Sha’re. Any ideas on that?”“One idea,” Sam grinned, “I’d say in his world they were a couple.”“That could be a problem,” Jack sighed, “Well Hammond said we’ve to bring them in tomorrow morning. Let’s get some sleep.”Sam nodded and joined her husband as they walked to their room. Daniel tried to shield his eyes as sunlight spilled through the window. Turning away from it he almost fell out of the bed when he saw Sha’re lying sleeping beside him. The memory of what was going on hit him and he groaned; he shouldn’t have let that happen.Reaching over to her he very gently touched her face. Sha’re murmured cuddling closer to him the warmth of her body pressing against his. Daniel pulled her even closer not wanting to let go.Her eyes drifted open to find him watching her and a shy smile slid over her face before she kissed him.“Good morning,” she said.“Morning,” Daniel replied, “Sha’re, we shouldn’t have done that. It shouldn’t have happened.”Hurt flashed in her eyes but Daniel held her making her look into his eyes.“Please understand why,” Daniel said, “I can’t get involved. When I lost her it nearly killed me. I don’t know if I can go through that again with you. I have to leave here. Alison wants her brother back and both of us can’t survive in this reality.”“Why can we not just enjoy the time we have together?” Sha’re asked.Daniel stared at her, “Do you want that?”Sha’re smiled and kissed him again. *****************************************Janet smiled seeing Danny’s eyes widen at the view from the top of the mountain.“What do you think?” she asked.“Alison would like this,” he replied sitting down on the grass.Janet sat on one side as Jack took the other. Jack had got Danny a baseball cap like the one he usually wore on missions and was wearing now. Danny was wearing it proud to look like Jack.“Danny,” Jack said, “I want to ask you a few more questions.”“Okay,” Danny shrugged.“The scar on your head,” Jack said gently seeing Danny get uncomfortable and pulling the rim of the hat down, “How did it happen?”“I was being bad,” Danny said softly, “Mommy had to come get me then the chain snapped. I got hit here,” he pointed at his scar and sighed, “When I woke up I wasn’t smart anymore.”“When was that?” Janet asked, soothingly rubbing his arm.“I was eight,” Danny said as tears filled his eyes, “Before it Mommy said I was smarter than anyone my age.”“It’s okay kiddo,” Jack said softly placing a hand on his shoulder, “No more questions. Cassie will be back from school soon. She’s bringing some more movies to watch.”Danny smiled, “I like Cassie. She’s fun,” he frowned suddenly, “But I want to go home.”“Danny, we’re trying to get you home,” Jack told him, “I promise. We’re just having a few problems getting you there. You have to trust me, can you?”Danny hugged Jack, “Yes.”“That’s a good boy,” he smiled, “Come on let’s get back inside.” “General,” Jack greeted his CO as he walked into the office, “You called?”“How’s our guest?” Hammond asked.“Okay,” Jack nodded, “I told him we’re having problems getting him home. Thankfully he trusts me.”“Good,” Hammond mused, “Major Carter and Teal’c have informed me of nothing back on the planet. However, we have left a MALP to monitor the place and we will be doing periodic checks on it.”Jack nodded, “Can I get permission to take him out of the base?”“What?”“Get him out of the base for a while,” Jack said, “Have a barbecue, let him relax.”“You’ve really become quite attached to him?” Hammond asked with a sigh.“Its Daniel but it’s not,” Jack sighed, “He’s a kid and what can I say…I have a soft spot.”Hammond laughed, “Granted.” *****************************************Sam sat next to Alison handing her a cup of coffee.“Thank you,” Alison smiled, “For everything. This is an unbelievable situation and you’re all handling this as a matter of course.”“For us it’s not exactly out of the ordinary,” Sam smiled back.Alison sighed, “There’s a small part of me that doesn’t want this fixed.”“Really?”“Yes,” Alison looked guilty, “I know that makes me a horrible person but my brother is quite a handful.”“It doesn’t make you awful,” Sam told her, “It makes you human. How long have you looked after him?”“Just a few months,” she explained, “Our parents were killed in a car crash. They made arrangements for Danny to go to…we called it a clinic if anything happened to them so I wouldn’t have the burden of caring for him.”“What happened?” Sam asked pressing gently.“I left him there for a week,” Alison raked her hand through her hair, “When I went to fetch him for the funeral they’d cut his hair. I was furious.”Sam looked at her confused.“His hair hid the scar, the reminder that he’s different,” Alison explained, “He hates it being shown to the world. I got him a hat to cover it and became his guardian. It’s just so tiring sometimes and now…Daniel is who Danny should be. He’s smart, grownup and doesn’t need me to do every little thing for him. I love my brother but sometimes I wish…”Sam hugged her gently, “I understand.”“Thanks,” Alison sighed. Jack looked up as Sha’re walked into the kitchen.“Good morning,” she smiled walking past him to grab some tea.“What are you doing?” Jack demanded.“What?” she asked.“Sha’re, don’t act innocent with me,” Jack snapped, “You’re only setting yourself up for a fall.”Sha’re sighed and sat across from him, “I know he is only here for a short time but I want to be with him. You have been pushing me to find someone for a long time.”“I meant someone from this world,” Jack snapped, “Someone who isn’t going to disappear the moment we find a way to switch him back with the one who should be here. Sha’re there a dozens of guys in the base who like you.”“I do not like them,” she snapped back, “But Dan’iel…Jack please do not say anything to him.”She moved to leave.“He knew you in his world,” Jack called stopping her, “It’s her he’s seeing.”Sha’re’s dark eyes flashed at him in anger, “I do not care,” she replied coldly before leaving. *****************************************Jack stood cooking at the barbecue watching Cassie and Danny chase Cassie’s dog around the garden. Sam was talking to Janet while Teal’c was talking with Hammond and Ferretti.He wondered how Daniel would take to seeing himself like this. All Daniel had these days was his genius IQ and seeing him without that was bizarre.“Okay, food is ready,” Jack called, “Danny, come and get a burger.”Danny came bounding over and Jack felt the familiar ache from where Charlie should be. He’d always treated Daniel as his surrogate son and now he reminded him of Charlie even more than before. Jack wondered how he would be able to separate them when they got their Daniel back. “What do you want?” Jack asked as Sam floated near him looking as though she wanted to talk.“To make sure you’re okay,” she told him.“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”“Because I can see you watching Danny,” Sam told him, “Your relationship with Daniel is at times very paternal and Danny is more a child. Don’t get too attached Sir.”“It’s a bit late Carter,” he sighed.“I know,” she agreed watching him, “He’s so sweet and lovable but we have to send him home.”“I know,” Jack sighed, “In some ways I think he’s luckier than our Daniel.”“How?”“Think about it,” Jack said, “Here Daniel lost his parents when he was eight, he grew up very alone and then after finding someone he loved more than life she was taken from him too. Danny was raised with his parents and a sister who all love him.”“But to keep all that he lost a lot,” Sam reminded him.“I hate to burst your bubble Carter,” Jack frowned, “But having a genius IQ isn’t everything.”“You’re forgetting one thing though,” Sam sighed.“And what would that be?”“Daniel has us.” *****************************************“Are you alright Alison?” Daniel asked his ‘sister’, as they travelled down into the depths of Cheyenne Mountain.“I’m fine,” she gave him a half smile.Tentatively he placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. She gave him a confused look.“That’s what big brothers do, isn’t it?” he asked quietly.“I never actually had one,” she reminded him, “Danny is…” she trailed off.“I guess so,” Daniel sighed before frowning, “What about before the accident?”“Daniel, I’m ten years younger than you.”“Oh,” he sighed, “I never really thought about that,” he shrugged, “Sorry.”Daniel could feel Sha’re’s hand in his as he talked to Alison; this was not good. He wasn’t going to be able to leave her if they kept up contact like this.“Follow me,” Jack said his eyes catching Sha’re’s who gave him a defiant stare back.Holding Sha’re with one hand and keeping the other on Alison’s shoulder Daniel followed Jack and Sam through the corridors of Cheyenne Mountain and the SGC.“General,” Daniel sighed relieved that Hammond was in control of the base.Hammond gave him a dark look, “So you’re the young man causing us so much trouble?”“I suppose so,” Daniel shrugged, “This is Alison Jackson my sister, kind of. Look I’m sure Jack…Colonel O’Neill has explained everything to you. All I was hoping was that you would help me get home.”Hammond looked thoughtful, “You are quite a problem, I’ll admit that Dr Jackson. Dr Carter has suggested we allow you to return to the planet you were on to see if we can find any similarities to when you were there in your own reality.”“Thank you,” he sighed.“Colonel O’Neill will take you to get geared up,” Hammond told him.“What about me?” Alison asked.“Miss Jackson?”“If they do manage to switch back again Danny doesn’t know any of you. He’ll be scared,” she told him, “But if I’m there we can get him home no problem.”“She has a point,” Sam said softly.Hammond finally nodded, “Take her with you Dr Carter. Sha’re I want a word with you.”Sha’re watched as everyone trooped out before she turned to Hammond annoyed.“I know what I am doing,” she told him.“I very much doubt that,” Hammond frowned, “But that’s not what I want to talk to you about.”“Then what is it?”“Sha’re, Dr Jackson mentioned something about writings all around this laboratory he was in,” Hammond said, “I want you to record them and try to make sure you get everything. I want you to work on this when you return so we can make sure this never happens again.”“Of course sir,” she gave him a gentle nod before turning to leave.“Sha’re,” Hammond called making her turn back, “Jack’s right. You’re going to get hurt if you continue with this.”Sha’re gave him a sad smile, “It is too late.” Alison stood staring at the Gate in absolute amazement. Sam was talking to a few of the other scientists while Daniel was quietly talking to Sha’re.“You okay?” Jack came up to her.“I’m fine Colonel,” she told him with a half-smile.“Call me Jack,” he grinned at her, “It’s pretty amazing isn’t it?”“That’s not the word I would use,” Alison said, “But it’s close enough. That really goes to another planet?”“Several,” he grinned.“Daniel told me that Danny is probably being looked after by his version of you,” Alison smiled, “I hope so.”Jack gave her another grin; “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about what you do.”“I teach languages,” she replied, “I may not be as smart as Daniel but I have a fair knowledge of twelve languages plus Egyptian history and culture. The reason I don’t have my doctorate yet is because our parents died at a critical phase of it and now I don’t have the time to study with looking after Danny and working.”“So you would definitely be interested in what we do here,” Jack said.“I doubt it’ll be easy to forget,” Alison said, “From what Sam told me then all my parent’s studied was based on a false premise.”“Then you’d be interested in a job?” Jack asked.“What?” Alison stared at him, “Excuse me I thought you offered me a job?”“I did,” Jack shrugged, “We need people with your abilities. You can finish your doctorate working here.”“What about Danny?”Jack shrugged, “We’ll see.”Sam came over to them, “We’re ready.”Alison jumped as the Stargate burst open staring at it in amazement, “I think I’ll take that job.”“Let’s go,” Jack ordered guiding Alison up the ramp while being followed by Sha’re and Daniel with Sam at the rear. *****************************************“You have a suggestion Major?” Hammond asked as they sat around the briefing table.“I think we should take Danny back to the planet,” Sam said, “I was thinking that it’s possible that if we just let him do whatever Daniel did then it’s possible we’ll switch them back.”“That is probably a good idea,” Teal’c said, “It is in fact the only idea we have.”“Jack?” Hammond asked for his second in commands thoughts.Jack frowned slightly, “I suppose it’s an idea. Okay, we take him back and see what happens.”“Take Dr Fraiser also,” Hammond said, “Just in case. With Dr Jackson’s track record.”Jack let out a soft laugh, “Okay kids, let’s get ready to go.” Danny was standing staring at the Stargate with absolute fascination. Cassie was standing with him while the others were fixing themselves to go through the Gate. “Look after yourself,” Cassie hugged him tightly, “And remember to tell your sister how good you were.”“I will,” Danny grinned, “I had fun with you.”Cassie hugged him again as Jack joined them.“Okay Danny,” Jack said, “When we go through I want you to stay with me. Okay?”Danny nodded.“No running off,” Jack continued, “And don’t touch anything. Promise?”“I promise,” Danny nodded sincerely. The Gate burst open and Cassie gave his arm a squeeze before she headed into the control room to stand with Hammond.“Keep in touch,” Hammond ordered as they started through the Gate. Danny was looking around the room with absolute fascination. Jack kept a firm grip on his arm motioning the others to look around. “Sir,” Sam called, “You’ve got to see this.”“What is it Carter?” Jack asked as he and Danny walked over to her.“This,” she showed him the wall, “It’s seems to be a Quantum Mirror only it takes up the entire wall.”Jack pulled Danny back before he touched it, “I said don’t touch anything.”“Sorry,” Danny mumbled placing his hands behind his back.“Good boy,” Jack murmured before turning back to the wall.At that moment the Stargate on the other side of the mirror burst open and Jack sighed in relief to see Daniel walk out beside himself. Daniel walked out of the Gate grinning when he saw his Jack and Sam standing beside who he guessed was Danny. He gave them a quick wave happy to see Jack wave back. “I’m guessing we found your guys,” the other Jack said from beside him.Daniel nodded, “This is going to get complicated. Two Jack’s and two Sam’s.”“Well let’s do this quickly then,” the other Jack, Daniel mentally fixed him as O’Neill said.As they stepped closer to the wall they all jumped back as it shimmered and disappeared.“Alison,” Danny ran to his sister hugging her tight, “I missed you.”“I missed you too,” she smiled looking relieved he was safe, “You stayed out of trouble right?”Danny nodded enthusiastically before turning and looking at Daniel, “You look like me.”“I guess so,” Daniel smiled.“But you don’t have a scar,” Danny looked at him closely, “I guess that means you’re smart.”“Danny,” Alison said softly, “Don’t think about it.”“Okay,” Jack asked, “Looks like we’ve swapped back. Daniel want to say your goodbyes?”Daniel saw Jack looking at Sha’re who was recording everything from the walls of the room. He sighed sadly; he wasn’t sure how to do this.Daniel turned to move to her when a bright light flashed and disappeared revealing…“Thor?” Jack cried, “What are you doing here?”“I was about to ask the same question O’Neill,” Thor answered, “This is an Asgard laboratory.”“Thor,” Daniel intervened, “I was accidentally swapped with my alternate from another universe.”“Ah,” Thor mused, “Most amazing. Was he also in the laboratory?”“No, he was in his house, on Earth, miles away from where I live,” Daniel answered.Danny came over to join them his eyes widening in amazement seeing Thor.“This is he,” Thor said studying Danny, “He is very different from you.”Daniel sighed, “His brain was damaged as a child.”Thor looked over both of them, “Would you like me to fix that?”“What?” Alison came over her fear and anxiety over Thor evaporating at his suggestion.“Thor this is Alison,” Daniel introduced them, “Danny’s sister.”“Then you are the one who cares for him,” Thor said.“Yes,” she replied quickly, “What do you mean by fixing the damage?”“I could use the way Daniel Jackson’s brain is connected to repair the damage done to your brother,” Thor replied.O’Neill joined them, “Are you sure that’s wise? Daniel’s life is very different to Danny’s.”“With permission I shall perform a scan on Danny,” Thor said, “Then I can tell you more about what I can do.”Daniel turned to Alison,” Do you want that?”“I want to be smart again,” Danny said quietly from beside her.Alison’s cool blue eyes filled with indecision, “Will the scan harm him?”“No,” Thor assured her, “It shall just see how his mind is connected. No harm shall come to him.”“Then I agree,” Alison smiled at her brother. *****************************************Alison paced furiously waiting as Danny was scanned by Thor’s device. Major Sam and Doctor Sam were talking in a corner completely amazed by the interdimensional travel that Danny and Daniel had done while Jack was standing talking to his double and Janet. Sha’re was still filming the writing on the walls while Daniel stayed with Danny.Teal’c moved over to where Alison was pacing, “Are you alright?”She stopped in her tracks, “I’m worried. Danny has always wanted to be smart again and if this doesn’t work…”she trailed off sighing and pressing her hand to her eyes, “I don’t know how I’ll be able to help him if this goes wrong.”“Your brother cares deeply for you,” Teal’c said, “You are one whom he holds in high regard.”Alison nodded before giving a bitter laugh, “How much of that trust will be shattered if this fails? I’m barely handling him now, what am I going to do?”Teal’c placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, “From what I see, you are not alone.”Alison looked over to the members of SG1 that had come with her, “Do you believe that? I just met these people. Daniel said I can trust them but these past few days have been like some bizarre dream. I don’t even know who the hell you are and I’m spilling my guts here.”Teal’c turned an intense gaze on her, “I am a friend of your brother. Both versions of him.”Alison took a deep breath, “Thank you.”“You are welcome Alison Jackson.” “Alison,” Daniel called, “Thor is ready to tell us.”Alison went over and took Danny’s hand while Daniel rested his hand on her shoulder.“Well?” she demanded of Thor, “Can you help him or are you going to dash his hopes?”“Alison,” Daniel admonished softly.“I’m sorry,” she apologised, “I’m just a little tense.”“It is understandable,” Thor told her, “The damage to Danny’s brain is repairable.”Danny grinned his eyes lighting up while Alison stared at the small grey alien.“How will this work?” she asked squeezing her brother’s hand.“I shall use Daniel Jackson’s mind as a map and repair the damage,” Thor explained, “It shall not happen all at once but it shall only take a few days for him to become…”“An adult,” Daniel completed.“Yes,” Thor said, “There shall be certain side-affects from the procedure.”“Like what?” Daniel asked before Alison could.“He shall gain your knowledge,” Thor told Daniel, “Not from your life but your studies. All the languages you have learned shall come easily to him.”“What are the dangers?” Alison interrupted.“It is possible that the procedure may not work properly,” Thor said.“Alison,” Danny whispered softly, “I want to be smart again. I don’t want you to have to care for me always.”Alison turned to him her eyes filled with tears, “I don’t want anything to happen to you and if that means I always have to care for you then I will.”“Let me try to be smart again?” Danny pleaded.“Okay,” she whispered before turning to Thor, “Let’s do this.” “You are leaving after this has happened,” Sha’re said as Daniel stood with her at the other side of the room.“I have to,” he told her deliberately keeping distance between them.“I wish…”“Please,” Daniel stopped her speaking, “Please don’t make this harder. I’m just grateful.”“For what?” Sha’re asked softly.“For getting the chance to see your face once more,” he said, “To hold you, to kiss you and to actually have the chance to say goodbye this time.”Sha’re smiled, “I am glad that we had some time together.”“Could you promise me something?” Daniel asked.“Just ask.”“Once this is finished,” Daniel said, “Please look out for Alison and Danny. Be their friend.”Sha’re’s soulful brown eyes fixed on him, “I promise Dan’iel.” “Danny, are you sure you want this?” Alison asked her brother once more.“I want you to be happy,” Danny said, “You can’t be if you take care of me.”“I love you Danny,” Alison told him, “And I am happy. We’ve been fine over the past few months.”“Let me have this chance to be like Daniel,” Danny said, “I want to be like I should be.”“Okay,” she gently kissed his forehead, “Mom and Dad would be proud of how brave you are,” she turned to Thor, “Let’s do this.”“You all must remain over there,” Thor said.Jack nodded and gave both men a pat on the shoulder before taking Alison to where everyone else was waiting. *****************************************Daniel stood and watched as the two SG1 teams separated to go back to their respective homes. Soon the only ones standing there were Daniel, Danny, Alison and Sha’re.“How do you feel?” Daniel asked Danny.Danny shrugged, “Fine.”“Thor says you will notice changes pretty quickly,” Daniel smiled.“Thank you,” Danny said, “Even if I don’t get to be like you at least I’ll be smarter than I was.”Danny suddenly hugged him.“Why don’t you go join Jack,” Alison said to her brother.Danny nodded and waved goodbye to Daniel.“Well,” Alison turned to Daniel, “You have managed to completely turn my life upside down,” she smiled, “Thank you.”Daniel hugged her tightly, “No, thank you. For a few days I had a sister, something I always wanted was a brother or sister and it’s nice to know how great you are.”Alison wiped her eyes, “Take care of yourself Daniel.”Daniel smiled at her while she went to rejoin her SG1 before turning to Sha’re.“This is goodbye,” she said sadly.“I guess,” Daniel frowned, “I wish…”“No wishing,” she said cutting him off, “Just one last kiss.”Daniel closed his eyes as they kissed goodbye holding onto her and making the memory that would have to last him forever. Finally they parted and they moved away from each other.The two Sam’s dialled their respective Gates and they opened in unison. With a gentle hand on his shoulder Jack made Daniel walk through. ******************************************* Epilogue 1Daniel walked down the ramp from the Stargate and smiled at Hammond.“It’s me sir,” he said.“Good to have you back Dr Jackson,” Hammond said, “Briefing in one hour.”SG1 nodded and headed out followed by Janet so they could get their medical. The debriefing was quick as Daniel explained everything that had happened simply before he disappeared. “Hey,” Jack said finding him in his office.“Hey,” Daniel replied quietly staring at the wall, “What do you want?”“To see how you’re doing,” Jack told him, “It’s been a strange few days.”Daniel sighed, “You’re not kidding.”“What are you thinking about?” Jack decided to forget subtlety.Daniel gave him a smile, “Danny, Alison…”“Sha’re,” Jack completed.“You know I thought it would hurt more than this,” Daniel said softly, “But in a strange way I’m happy I got the time with her.”“It’s probably cause you know she’s safe and you were actually able to say goodbye,” Jack told him, “Gave you a bit of closure.”“I guess,” Daniel shrugged, “It was also nice even for a few days to have a sister.”“Danny raved about her,” Jack grinned.“I’m not surprised,” Daniel smiled, “She was very like my mother. She looked a lot like her you know.”Jack smiled, “Feel like pizza and beer at my house? You can tell me more.”Daniel smiled and nodded, “Sure.”“Let’s get the other two and we can get out of here,” Jack herded his friend out of the office and the SGC. Epilogue 2. Alison sat at the briefing table listening as everyone told what had happened on the planet. Danny was in the infirmary being checked out by the doctor to see what Thor had done to him.“Miss Jackson,” Hammond said, “We now have a slight problem.”“What kind of problem?” she asked curiously; everything to her seemed to be finished.“Well if the Asgard have indeed fixed the damage done to your brother in his accident it is going to be impossible for you to explain it away,” Hammond explained, “You can’t exactly go home and pick up where you left off.”“Then what do you suggest General?” Alison’s voice was clipped.Hammond looked at Jack who turned to Alison. “Remember that job offer? It still applies,” Jack told her, “If you want we could use someone with your skills and if Danny does become like Daniel Jackson then we could use his talents as well.”Alison frowned thoughtfully, “I guess I knew we couldn’t go back. This is an opportunity of a lifetime.”Sam smiled, “Then you’re in?”“Oh, I’m in,” Alison grinned, “Definitely.”
10363938	Damn it Mari	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Kurosawa Dia, Kurosawa Ruby, Ohara Mari", "Fandom": "Love Live! Sunshine!!", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by makabaka", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-19T00:00:00", "words": "275", "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 }	The second years had to do some errands after school so practice had been postpone and Dia took the opportunity to get some student council done. Fifteen minutes had passed when someone opened the door and came in. Looking up from her work and saw that it was her younger sister, Dia greeted Ruby with a small smile.“Do you need anything- RUBY WHY DID YOU PUT YOUR MIDDLE FINGER UP!?” Dia shrieked when she saw her younger sister randomly sticking her right middle finger up at her. Does Ruby even know what the meaning of the middle finger is? Seeing Ruby with a panic look on her face told Dia that she doesn’t know.Sighing, “Listen, I’m not mad at you, Ruby. What you did just caught me by surprised,” Dia said trying to keep to her voice calm, trying not scare Ruby anymore.Ruby relaxed a bit seeing that Dia is not mad at her, but she is still nervous because she doesn’t know what she did was actually bad or not.“Where did you heard about the middle finger?” Dia askedRuby tensed a little and started fiddling her fingers, “M-Mari-san told me something she learned from living aboard. S-she said in America, kids stick their m-middle fingers up at their closest friends or siblings whenever they see each other. I-I thought it was something good, s-so I thought I come in and greet you.” Ruby answered the best she can without crying.Dia snapped the pencil in her hand, she should’ve known.“MARIIIII!,” Dia yelled.Mari was outside of the student council room, clutching onto her stomach from laughing too hard.
10391625	The Other 6 Wheels	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron), Pidge \| Katie Holt, Coran (Voltron), Allura (Voltron)", "Fandom": "Voltron: Legendary Defender", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by BimsBones", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-21T00:00:00", "words": "2,094", "Additional Tags": "Langst, Eating Disorders, unintentional self-harm, he doesn't actively want to hurt himself, More angst, everyone on the outside looking in, not lance's pov, ohoohohohoh, Female Pronouns for Pidge \| Katie Holt, pidge is really mean in context, hunk is a good boy and needs love, shiro just busts a nut and rolls over, Cuddling, allusions to sex, No actual sex", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Keith/Lance/Shiro, Keith/Lance (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Lance/Shiro (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron)", "Series": "The Curse of the 7th Wheel", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "M/M, Multi", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Hunk noticed Lance was losing weight, noticed how he was ‘too tired’ to eat and how his cheek bones got way too sharp to look good. Hunk also knew when Keith and Shiro finally made their move on Lance because Keith was always watching the Blue Paladin like a hawk during meals and how he’d suddenly show up late at night with Lance in tow and make him eat things. It seemed to be working, his friend looked a lot better, more tired, but he was gaining weight. The Red Paladin seemed pretty proud of himself, smirking to himself whenever Lance actually started to eat at meals. Hell, Hunk was pretty damn proud of him too, made sure to let him know when Keith and Shiro were too busy with each other to notice him. That aspect of his friends’ relationship also rubbed him the wrong way a bit. The three of them had small PDA sessions in the common room during a rare ‘movie night’, or after a mission and they all converged into a mass of panting breaths and worry. Hunk could understand that adrenaline, and he liked seeing Lance happy in those moments, and even at times when it was just him and Shiro. Hunk remembered once when Keith went with the Blade for something and everyone had a free day and he just walked into the command room that was supposed to be empty, only to find Lance and Shiro in a puddle of blankets and looking at the star maps. He felt wrong for intruding and he obviously interrupted something from the way Lance’s shoulders jumped, so he just shouted an apology and left without getting to check out the thing Yellow wanted him to look at, it was alright though. Still, after about two months, he had never seen Keith and Lance just hanging out, which seemed weird to him, because they were dating right? Hunk didn’t know and really didn’t want to pry, but still, Lance had said he was dating both of them. It was very obvious that Keith and Shiro were together, but Lance kind revolved outside of them when they would foree into PDA, which the Red Paladin seemed to be instigating. When asked, Lance would just blush and grin, saying that ‘ it’s fine, they just like PDA more than me ’, which Hunk knew for a fact was total bullshit because Lance was the PDA King at the Garrison when someone would ‘date’ him for a week or two. He was just a very loving person, and the Yellow Paladin was a bit scared that that part of his friend was gone. Allura kept herself above Paladin affairs for the most part, unless they were directly affecting the performance of Voltron or team dynamic. The news of Shiro and Keith courting wasn’t a surprise in the least, not with the way they looked at each other and their behavior over all. However, the addition of the Blue Paladin, no, no, sorry, Lance, to their courtship was odd. Polyamorous relationships were pretty common on Altea, which didn’t bother her in the slightest, but it seemed like the already withdrawn Paladin seemed to retract into further, even though he kept up in training. He always looked unfocused to her, though, like his mind was somewhere else, until he started falling behind. Now, his mysterious behavior was making more sense when Shiro informed her that Lance felt physical pain that could coincide with any emotional pain he was feeling. Her gut turned when he told her that Lotor did it and she felt ill for a few moments as she tried to forget her betrothed. Still, if Lotor was the culprit, it would take some serious research to undo it. Why had Lance waited so long to tell them? It had been months since they had rescued him, and they were only finding out now? It made her view him a bit differently as they went through training. Lance’s eating habits also came up in that discussion and Shiro seemed very affected by not noticing and had to be consoled a bit by the princess. Allura had noticed the decline in weight, just seeing the Blue Paladin in his uniform and saw how in seemed to no longer fit him, too loose in awkward places that made her uncomfortable. She didn’t comment because she had never really paid attention to Lance’s physique and maybe he had always looked like that. Guilt curled up in her chest as she became gentler, tried to lighten some of the Paladin’s load. The teenager seemed appreciative and his stats improved overall, though she didn’t dive all that deep, but his aim was getting better and the team dynamic was improving. Meanwhile, Allura was working on the cure for Lance’s ailments, though it was very slow going. Hopefully he wasn’t suffering himself in the meantime. Keith liked holding Lance at night, when they were both naked and cooling down. He would admit he hated when Lance got up first to get the washcloth because he ‘didn’t like being all sticky’. Shiro was an immovable object after a round or two, so it was up to the two of them and Lance always volunteered. It didn’t really bother him because he got to see Lance walking away with cum on his thighs and nail marks down his back with ribs that didn’t stick out very much anymore. He was proud of Lance and how much weight and muscle he had gained over the past couple of months. When Lance would settle back into bed, the Red Paladin would pull him in and press kisses across his shoulders and sling an arm around the other boys slim waist. Shiro would finally be awake enough to grumble and pull them both closer, though Keith was almost always in the middle, warm and he had less night terrors when he was sandwiched between the two of them. That’s probably why it hurt so much when Lance cleaned them up, but didn’t crawl into bed with them like he usually did. The teenager made some excuse about ‘sleeping in his own bed’. Keith hadn’t liked it, but he wasn’t going to force his boyfriend to sleep with them. Still, the Galra hybrid just nodded and curled into Shiro a bit more, who offered a small wave and slurred “Love you,” in his direction as the Blue Paladin turned and left. He was upset when it started happening every night, and he fought to keep Lance against him after they came, still sticky and sweaty. The other boy wouldn't have it though, and as he gained weight, he gained strength to push Keith off and slink to the bathroom. It frustrated him to the point that he got up first to go to the bathroom, pushing Lance to get wrapped up in the sleepy bear that was Fucked Out Shiro™. There was protest, but Keith wasn't having it as he got up and went into Shiro’s (the room they were in was mainly Shiro’s because they liked to steal is sweatshirts in the morning) bathroom. Lance stayed that night, and Keith didn't even dream. Shiro kept a pretty close eye on training stats in the beginning. He’d stay up late when sleep was impossible and just pour over them like he was back in school as if he would have an exam on them. Now that the team was more cohesive and integrated, he didn’t check as often. This time Pidge had asked him to check to see how many hours they had all registered on the simulations, because she wanted to make an algorithm or something like that. The first list that popped up was weekly training, and he scanned the rows, jotting down the numbers on a small notepad until he got to Lance. How the hell has Lance done 53.4 hours of training sim this week alone? Oh no… Shiro didn’t bring it up, thinking back to all the night that Lance just left then until Keith would shove him into Shiro’s arm. Lance even helped him get into the compression sleeve and kissed his forehead and the Black Paladin wanted to cry and hold him, using the slight bend that his stub allowed him to keep him close.Again, he couldn’t see what Lance was doing and it really hurt, knowing that his leadership had strayed so far that he couldn’t tell what anyone was doing, and it frustrated him to no end. It would take backing Lance into a corner to talk to him about this, as it did with most of his issues. Still, Shiro really didn’t want to be the bad guy in all of this, and he was trying his best but… He needed to take a step back, because with Lance added to the weight of the team, he needed to sort things out. Pidge adjusted her glasses as she looked at the data with a wrinkled nose. She had thought that Keith or Shiro would have the most training out of all of them, and had coded accordingly. Hand to hand combat and sword fighting was the bulk of the training algorithms made, and suddenly all of that script didn’t mean shit because finally to try and be a decent paladin. Looking back at it, Pidge would really regret snapping at Lance about messing up her algorithms with the sudden influx of training for long distance ballistics that would take about 6 more hours of reworking some integers and try to decipher how to work it into the whole thing. “Why now do you sudden start training?! You fucked everything up!” Pidge yelled at him the next time she saw him, during dinner over green space goo because was too busy trying to upgrade Yellow to sit down and make dinner. “I-I’m sorry Pidge, I just-” Lance sounded pained, and he should be, dammit! That was a lot of hard work down the drain. The Green Paladin was about to tear into him again before Shiro’s galra fist connected with the table and plates and silverware jumped, as well as the others at the table. The older man looked stern, his eyebrows drawn together as his lips set into a hard line. “Pidge, don’t scold teammates for improving, I understand that it’s a challenge to rewrite code, but that’s no reason to go off on Lance.” He chastised, looking over where Lance was sitting next to him. The Blue Paladin was red in the face, holding himself around the middle and shaking a bit, looking like he’d just got beaten up. Shiro was about to ask him if he was alright before Lance just pushed back from the table, mumbling that wasn’t hungry anymore before leaving, practically running out of the room with Keith trailing and Shiro giving Pidge a look of disappointment before he followed. The table was quiet for a long moment after that, with Hunk frowning at the empty seats and Allura whispering something to Coran that made his mustache twitch before the man frowned. “And you’re positive?” The Altean man whispered to the Princess who nodded solemnly, before they looked down at the table with frowns. Coran had a feeling Lance wasn’t doing all that well for the longest time out of all of them. While the mustachioed man was quite fun and boisterous, he noticed the smaller things. First it was how tired Lance looked, then it was falling into a language Coran didn’t know, but it was probably the boy’s native tongue if the ease of the speaking was anything to go by. The older man was gentle, never yelling when it was necessary or forcing Lance to talk about his feelings, and that was years ago now. The Blue Paladin had grown and changed and it worried him. This boy that would smile and joke and flirt shamelessly...where had he gone to? Replaced with a boy of dark skin and protruding bone that made Coran nauseous to look at. It hurt him to see a once bright star so dimmed by the weight of keeping a team together through the bad times that he just fell apart, leaving a boy inside. Most of these paladins were still children, and the pressure of the Universe was held in them and Lance just broke. It was alright, he wasn’t weak for it, he shouldn’t be shamed and hiding because he was a child. Children needed a helping hand, not a Universe.
10349571	Spores	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Stargate SG-1", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Tanya [archived by stargatefan_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-12-31T00:00:00", "words": "26,549", "Additional Tags": "Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Action/Adventure", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "StargateFan Archive Collection", "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 }	Spores Spores Written by Tanya Jack O'Neill glanced at the team around him as he sat on the lush grass, a piece of hay dangling from between his lips. The others were busy collecting samples, as they had been for the past three days since they gated to the planet. He looked at the terrain around them. As the MALP had shown in it's readings, P39-527 was a fertile world. It was also devoid of humans, and the only animals they had come across appeared to be harmless. The team had been systematically covering survey blocks, working from the gate outwards. They were looking for any potential benefits of this planet, be they mineral, or organic. Thus far, they had collected several hundred samples which were ready to send back through the gate to Earth. This was their second to last full day, before they were due to return home. Once their findings were catalogued, decisions would be made about the viability of the planet, with regards to future consideration. Jack was feeling a little bored at this point. He wasn't a scientist, nor did he pretend any interest in this kind of expedition. He was a military man, and while this mission was restful, he was finding himself itching for something more. He glanced over at two of his team-mates. Sam and Daniel were engaged in friendly banter. Jack smiled as he watched the animated friends. Who would have guessed that only scant years ago, he would be travelling to different worlds with an astrophysicist, an archaeologist/ linguist, and an alien. Jack turned his gaze on the Jaffa who stood watching over the site. Teal'c was a man of great integrity and loyalty, and Jack counted himself lucky to have him on the team. It had been touch and go if the Jaffa would be allowed to remain with the SGC, let alone help defend it, which he had done on numerous occasions. Jack stood abruptly. Undecided about what he really wanted to do, he allowed his legs to make the decision for him. He debated about informing the others of his decision to go walk-about, but the laxity of the planet seemed to have infected him as well. He consoled himself with limiting his walk to only a short distance. Turning away from the others, he quickly walked away. About twenty minutes later, he came to a small hill, which he scaled. As he crested the hill, Jack drew in a surprised breath, at the unexpected sight that greeted him. Looking below him, Jack was treated to an incredible view. A thick, seemingly endless carpet of blooms covered the ground at the bottom of the hill. Their perfume was subtle, as it wafted along with the breeze, and the flowers gently swayed on their stalks. Transfixed, Jack walked down the hill, and into their midst. There he stood, momentarily frozen. For all his military bearing, Jack was a lover of beauty, whether that be the strings of a violin concerto, or the soulful sounds of the saxophone in a jazz piece. He enjoyed art, and he was enjoying this. Flowers licked at his body as he turned in a slow circle, taking in the sight. To his eye, they looked like orchids, which he mentally dubbed them. They were white, softened by touches of red. The hues ranged from soft pink, to fiery crimson. The stalks were thick, and long, moreso than Jack would have expected with such delicate blooms. The flowers rose to his waist, with some achieving even greater heights. The stamen in the centre of each bloom was covered in light yellow pollen. Jack noticed that some flowers contained significantly more pollen than others, and he subconsciously wondered if that was an indication of age. Jack slowly walked through the field, when he noticed something odd. Not far ahead, were the remains of what appeared to be a building jutting out from the flowers. He started to move closer, when he tripped. He caught himself before he fell, then looked to see the cause. It was a building block, with another just past it. Slowly Jack moved around to investigate. All around him were the skeletons of buildings, broken and crumbled. As Jack continued to look, it occurred to him that they did not appeared to be that old. They showed no signs of the wear that was typically present on the ruins they had encountered. It was almost as though some force had recently pulled the stones apart. If he had to venture a guess, he would have said it seemed as though the flowers had performed the task. Jack shook his head at the mystery. This planet was uninhabited, yet here were signs of civilisation. Deciding that he had left the others for too long, Jack started back across the field. As he walked, some of the flowers threw their pollen into the air, forming a cloud of the palest yellow. Thanking his lucky stars that he did not suffer the same allergies as Daniel, Jack walked unmindfully through it. He climbed back up the hill, turned and took another look at the strange field. An eerie feeling crept over him, as a cold chill ran up his spine. For a second, he thought he heard the ghostly echo of screams, carried on the breeze. The feeling passed quickly, and Jack shrugged it off... almost. He decided to ask Hammond if they couldn't come back and investigate. Something had lived here, and he wanted to know who, or what, it was. Short minutes later, Jack was back in sight of his team, who appeared not to have noticed his absence, or chose not to comment on it. As he walked up to the packing box where today's samples were being stowed, he became aware of some odd looks. "What?" he growled, uncomfortable with their gaze. Daniel snickered. "What have you been doing Jack? You're yellow." He was glad that he had remembered to take his antihistamines that morning, or he would be sneezing by now, despite the distance still separating them. Looking down at himself, Jack realised that he was indeed covered in fine yellow dust. "Oh man" he mumbled to himself as he brushed off the pollen. "What have you been doing, Colonel?" Sam grinned. "I went for a walk over the hill, and found some flowers. I found something else as well." Jack looked at Daniel as he spoke. Noticing the look, Daniel was quick to question "What?" "Some buildings, or rather, what I guess were buildings. There was some rubble anyway." Jack watched for Daniel's expression, and grinned when it came as expected. "Where are they? Can we go now? How far did you say they were? Did you find anything else. I thought this place was uninhabited..." Daniel stopped abruptly as Jack moved to cover his mouth. "Sorry Daniel." Jack scanned the skyline. "We don't have long before sunset. Let's deal with the rest of this stuff." Jack indicated the boxes that still needed loading, and the remaining area to be sampled. "After we debrief with Hammond. I'll ask him if we can't have a little more time here to check things out. Okay." Daniel knew that Jack was being as fair as possible, and grudgingly agreed. The sun finally set a couple of hours later. By then, the team had everything accomplished that it needed to do for the day, and preparations were made for the next phase of their mission. They were seated around a cheery campfire. Having finished a dinner of MRE's, they were now enjoying an after dinner coffee, their one indulgence. "So, Colonel, what did the buildings look like?" Sam asked. "It was hard to tell. They weren't standing any more. Most of the rubble was covered by the flowers." Jack paused for a moment, thinking. "I had such a strange feeling when I was there," he continued. "Strange how?" Daniel was curious. Jack typically was not the one to pick up on moods and environments, unless weaponry was concerned. Before Jack could answer, Teal'c spoke up. "O'Neill, it appears as though you have blood coming from your nose." Jack moved his hand to his nose, and felt the trickle coming from it. "For crying out loud." He reached out and took the Kleenex that Daniel pushed in his direction. "Thanks Danny." He pinched the bridge of his nose with his left hand, while he used his right to wipe up the evidence. "Don't mention it." Daniel suffered from a myriad of allergies, and sought to single-handedly keep the paper company in business. He never went anywhere without antihistamines and tissue. "You okay?" "I'm fine. It's just a nosebleed. Nothing to write home about." He removed his hand. "See, it's stopped already." Sam and Daniel looked at each other, and shrugged. As Jack had just pointed out, it was only a nosebleed. Continuing as though there had been no interruptions, Jack returned to the previous topic. "There didn't appear to be any signs of who might have lived there. It just seemed as though the whole place had been overtaken by the flowers." "Colonel, can you describe the flowers to me?" "Sure. I haven't seen them on this planet until now. They reminded me of orchids, but the stems had the height and thickness of hollyhocks." Jack glared at her as he caught sight of her rolling eyes. "Can't I know a little something about flowers?" he growled at her. Sam giggled. "I'm sorry, sir. You just don't seem the type." "And what type is that, 'Major'?" Jack put a definite emphasis on her rank. "Um, nothing, sir," she looked at the ground sheepishly. Jack smothered a grin, then decided to take pity on her. "Actually, I keep a garden." While the team had actually been to his house on numerous occasions, they had never seen the back-side of the house where he grew his prize flowers. The rest of the team looked at him, disbelief clear on their faces. "I like to watch things grow," he said. No-one responded as they realised the deeper meaning in that comment. Jack had lost his son in a tragic shooting accident several years earlier. While he declined to talk about it with his friends, they knew the sadness of that incident carried through in everything the colonel did. Jack's past was pretty much a closed subject with the group, in fact, the whole SGC. While the team knew about his son Charlie, and the subsequent break up with his wife, the information all but stopped there. They were aware of his time with Black Ops, but knew there was a lot more to the colonel's history. Daniel skilfully changed the subject. "Isn't it odd, how we didn't know that there had been a settlement here. I mean, we found no signs of agriculture, no other buildings, not even animals that might indicate farming." Sam piped up. "You're assuming that it is was a settlement Daniel." "True," Daniel mulled a though over. "If it was though, they probably weren't here for very long." "Why would you say that Daniel?" Jack asked. "Well, without actually seeing the site," Daniel looked pointedly at Jack, "I can't say for sure, but it seems to me that if they had been here for a while, we would have found something else." Jack heaved a long suffering sigh. "Tell you what Daniel. When the job has been completed here, I'll show you where I found the field. You can look, but no touching until we get permission to come back. Fair enough?" The look on Daniel's face spoke volumes, as his eyes lit up with the thought of new discovery. "Thanks Jack." "Welcome." A weary feeling came over Jack, prompting his next comment. "Well gang, I'm ready to turn in. See you bright and early." Having found the planet to be safe, they had dispensed with guard duty at night. Jack got up and moved to the flap on his tent when he was stopped by a tentative question from behind. "Sir, are you sure you're okay." Sam wasn't used to Jack volunteering to go to sleep. He was usually the night owl of the bunch. He always claimed it was due to his training, that he didn't need that much sleep. Sam always suspected that it was more that he didn't like to give himself time to dream, although she would never voice that thought to anyone else. "I told you Carter, I'm fine." Before anyone else could say anything, Jack ducked into his tent. As he sat on the floor of his tent, he contemplated Sam's question. Was he okay? Jack gave himself a mental shake. Of course he was fine. A little nosebleed never hurt anyone. With that thought, he climbed in his sleeping bag, and fell unexpectedly into a sound sleep. Jack woke up in the middle of the night, shivering. He took a minute to get his bearings. While he was accustomed to waking up to bad dreams, he didn't think that was the cause this time. This realisation proved correct as he felt something trickle from his nose. It was blood. "What the hell?" Jack spoke aloud, he voice sounding foreign in the night. As he once again pinched off the flow of blood, he realised that he felt even more fatigued than earlier. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and Jack lay his head back on his bed. The dizziness passed, and his nose stopped bleeding. Jack gave a deep sigh, then drifted off to sleep. Morning greeted the team with a beautiful sunrise. Heads poked out of their perspective tents, and then finally emerged. Jack was uncharacteristically the last to be seen. As he joined the rest of the group, Teal'c handed him a coffee which he accepted gratefully. He sat down by the now re-lit campfire, set the cup on the ground at his feet, then rubbed both eyes which were reluctant to fully open. Daniel, Sam and Teal'c looked on. Jack's actions caught their attention. His late rising was as odd as his early retiring. Daniel approached his friend. He took note of flecks of blood around the colonel's nose, and some more on his partially exposed collar bone. He assumed it was the remnants from the previous evening, so he didn't comment. "So, did you sleep okay last night?" he asked instead. Jack moved his hands away from his face and looked at Daniel. Shadows darkened his eyes, and his appearance told Daniel that his night had not been restful. Jack contemplated the question, and to his surprise, with the exception of the nosebleed, he had slept well. "Actually Daniel, I did." Jack downed the rest of his coffee then stood. "Well gang, we go home tomorrow, and there's still lots of work to do." The team took the hint, and got back to work. Within hours, the last of the survey block had been depleted of soil and plant samples. Daniel and Sam sorted through bags of samples, catalogued them and packed them in crates for shipping home. Teal'c and Jack took on the chore of loading the heavy crates on to the skid they had on site. The sun was hot, and the work was tedious, and all four were grateful to finally stop and have a rest. Lunch was a simple affair, consisting of cold MRE's and canteen water. Nevertheless, the team all felt better for it. Jack was feeling more than a little tired, although he was not quite sure why. The seedy feeling he had woken up to had not diminished as he had hoped. He glanced at the three members of his team. While they were certainly looking flushed from the warm day, they did not seem to suffering from anything else. Sam was leaning over towards Daniel as they shared a joke he had only peripherally heard. Even Teal'c had a slightly amused look on his face, although if Jack wanted to be totally honest, it could simply have been a shadow. Deciding that the fatigue was the result of too little activity over the last few days, Jack decided to stretch his legs. He figured the exercise would help to clear his head. As he moved to stand though, his body decided to disagree with him. It voiced it's protest in the form of a coughing fit. By the time it had passed, Jack's chest hurt and he struggled to catch his breath. Sam, Daniel and Teal'c abruptly ended their conversation as they saw Jack. Sam moved to his side with a canteen which he gratefully took a sip from. She looked at him, concern clearly etched on her face. His face was pale, and the shadows they had noticed under his eyes that morning seemed to have grown. As he noticed Sam's continued gaze however, Jack straightened his shoulders, and gave her his patent 'I'm a colonel and I'm fine so stop asking' look. Sam wasn't buying it. "What's going on here, Colonel? First you get a nosebleed, then this? Are you coming down with something?" Jack looked at his second. "I'm sure it's nothing, Major. Probably just a cold." Getting embarrassed by all the attention, Jack changed the subject. "We leave tomorrow gang. What's say I take you to my discovery." Jack looked squarely at Daniel as he asked this. He was not disappointed by the reaction. The archaeologist quickly forgot his worry, as he was presented with the opportunity to investigate a lost civilisation. He leaped to his feet in anticipation. Jack realised he would have to reign in his friend right off the bat. "Daniel," he spoke in his best no-nonsense tone. "Just so we get this straight, you can look, but no touching this time. When we debrief, I'll ask Hammond to okay a return trip so you can investigate. Fair enough?" Daniel was disappointed, but knew the alternative was to not go at all. Besides, he knew the general would most likely give permission. He usually did when Jack asked. He nodded his consent. Jack indicated for the others to follow him. It was just a short walk to the hill, and an easy climb to the top. When the crested the slope, Jack turned to his team to get a look at their faces as they took in the view for the first time. He was not surprised by their reactions. Sam was enthralled by the beauty of the scene, as she looked upon the living carpet below her. Jack had been right. They did look like orchids. Millions of them in shades of white. As she looked, a feeling of sadness came over her. She flashed back to the scene of her mother's funeral. Similar flowers had rested on the casket, flowers that she, herself had laid there. The memories were so strong, that tears sprung to the corners of her eyes. She was startled from her reverie by a strong hand on her shoulder. She looked up at a pair of brown eyes staring intently at her. "Sorry, sir. What did you say?" Sam 's voice had a catch in it that Jack didn't miss. "I asked if you were all right Carter. You seemed kind of out of it." Jack remembered the eerie feeling this place had given him, and worried that it might be having the same effect on Sam. "No, I'm fine. I was just remembering... something. I'm fine," she reiterated as much to soothe herself as her commanding officer. "You sure Carter? Want to talk about it?" Jack's voice was quiet, but concerned. She flashed him a bright smile. "Really, sir. It was something that happened a long time ago. For some reason, this place just reminded me of it." "All right, Major. If you say so." Jack was still not convinced that everything was okay, but could do no more about it for now. He turned his attention to Daniel who seemed to be chomping at the bit to get closer to the structure he had finally spotted in the distance. Teal'c had a gently restraining hand on his shoulder. Jack grinned as he took in the scene. This was not unexpected, and he was grateful that Teal'c at least was taking him seriously about not approaching the field. "So Danny-boy. What do you think?" Jack couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice as Daniel whirled on him, a pleading look on his face. "Jack, this is fascinating. Look at this. Whatever it is down there, it looks as though it was just... swallowed up by these flowers. Please, can't I just go down and take a few minutes of video?" Daniel held up his ever-present camera. "Please." He was so excited about the prospect of exploring, that he couldn't keep the pleading tone out of his voice. Jack on the other hand was shaken by what Daniel had inadvertently said. The word 'swallowed' had struck a chord in him. It brought back the same feeling of unease that he had experienced here previously, and he was determined that his team would go no closer for now. "Sorry Daniel. Next time buddy. We'll bring lots of film, and you can explore to your heart's content. For now though, I think we should head back to camp and see about packing up for tomorrow." While Daniel understood Jack's words, he really wasn't ready to leave just yet. Something about this place was drawing at him. He could almost feel the abundance of life stirring below him, although if he wanted to be completely honest with himself, he realised that there was more to it than that. Whatever it was he was feeling though, was fleeting. He was unable to get a real grasp on it. Still, he geared himself up to argue for a few more minutes, when he looked at Jack, whose nose had begun to bleed again. This time, the flow was heavier than before. Teal'c had spotted the blood even sooner than Daniel and was already moving over beside Jack, who had lowered himself to a sitting position on the grassy slope. "O'Neill, this is the second time that you have lost blood from your nose. What is the cause of this?" Jack was beginning to wonder that himself. He had not told the others about the previous night. Coupled with the fatigue and cough, he realised that maybe he was coming down with something. It was not like him to get sick though, and as he looked at the scene below him, an uneasy feeling came over him and he began to wonder if it wasn't something more. The team waited for the blood flow to cease. Moments later, Jack headed down the hill to their campsite, followed by the rest of the team. By the time they arrived back in camp, he was inordinately tired, and allowed himself to be led to a seat around the fire-pit. Without thinking, he accepted the drink that was placed in his hands. He realised that he was in fact very tired, and he closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to drift while the other three moved around him. His awareness grew at the smell of dinner, being heated over a crackling fire. As he opened his eyes, he saw a pair of blue ones scrutinising him. Daniel's face was a mask of concern. He had seldom seen Jack with so much as the sniffles, and he was finding this worrisome. "Are you feeling better now?" he couldn't help but ask, knowing how annoyed Jack was getting with that particular question. "Peachy Daniel." Jack knew it was unfair to use that tone on his friend. He could see the concern there, but dammit, he was feeling worse now than even just half an hour ago, and if the truth be told, it was worrying him as well. "Sorry Daniel. Actually, I'm still kind of tired." That part Daniel didn't need to be told. Fatigue was etched firmly in Jack's face. He appeared pale to Daniel's eye as well. Sam walked over with a plate full of dinner. "Here you go, sir. It's our last dinner on this planet, so I made it a special one. Macaroni and cheese." Jack smiled. "I bet it tastes like chicken too, right?" Seeing her CO joking eased her mind a little. Like Daniel and Teal'c, Sam was worried as well. Jack didn't look good, and the little incidents were starting to add up to a picture she was not comfortable with. If he had a cold, then it was like none that she had seen before. Dinner went smoothly. The team all ate, albeit with somewhat less than relish. Teal'c and Carter began to discuss the transport of the skid. It was loaded rather heavily, and they wanted to ensure it didn't get stuck en route to the gate. Daniel set about cleaning the dishes, and Jack sat. As he stared at the mesmerising flames in front of him, he was unaware of the surreptitious looks being cast in his direction. Daniel was just approaching with some freshly brewed coffee, when another coughing attack hit him. Jack was left sore and breathless when the spasms finally subsided. He was also aware that the hand he had covered his mouth with was wet. As he held the offending appendage in front of him, he realised that it was not the phlegm that he had expected, but blood. Daniel grabbed Jack's hand before he had a chance to protest, and turned it so the others could see. "What the hell is going on here Jack?" "You're asking me? What do I look like... Janet?" Jack tried to make light of the situation, but his effort convinced no-one. "Dammit Jack. You're sick. When were you going to say something." Daniel fought hard to keep the anger from his voice. He was well aware that Jack would fight for any of them, but not for himself. "Daniel, I swear. I didn't know I was. I had a couple of nosebleeds yesterday, one today and then this. Other than that, I felt fine. I still feel fine, except for being rather tired." Jack's eyes conveyed the truth behind those words, and Daniel relaxed somewhat. "You said you had two nosebleeds yesterday, sir? I only saw one. When was the second one." Sam was more worried than she cared to admit. She didn't know what was going on with her friend, but she had the feeling she wasn't going to like the answer. "I woke up last night with one. It wasn't bad, and I fell right back asleep. I had almost forgotten about it until the last one." Jack was starting to feel a little light-headed, and his head was starting to hurt. With his elbows propped on his knees, he dropped his head into his hands. "Jack?" Daniel spoke beside him. In place of an answer, Jack fell over to the ground, unconscious. His skin was ashen, and a line of blood trickled once again from his nostril. "O'Neill!" Teal'c was beside the fallen colonel in a heartbeat. He scooped him up effortlessly, and moved him inside his tent. Sam and Daniel followed. "Does anyone know what we might be dealing with here?" Sam questioned the others as she took Jack's pulse. She found it steady, but to her it seemed a little weak. As she took in the negative shakes from the two men, she started to think aloud. "We need to get him back to the SGC. I think we should inform Janet that we may have encountered a possible contagion here. Whatever has affected the colonel is no cold. We have to go under the assumption that something here is causing this. We need to try to figure out what, so we can isolate it and come up with a solution." "What can we do to help Major Carter?" Teal'c was his usual steady self, and Sam smiled in appreciation. "First of all, how are you two feeling? Have you noticed any of the symptoms the colonel showed? Any fatigue, nosebleeds, coughs? No, okay. I'm fine as well. So has the colonel done anything that the rest of us haven't? Touched something we didn't, eaten something...?" Daniel looked thoughtful for a moment, before blurting out "the flowers!" Sam looked at him. "Daniel, we all went there." Daniel looked at her impatiently. "Yes, but Jack walked in amongst them. Remember how he was covered with pollen when he came back." Teal'c spoke up. "You are correct Daniel Jackson. I believed we all laughed when we saw him." Sam looked at Jack for a moment, then at the other two, realisation crossing her face. "If whatever is causing this was contained in the pollen, then it's just a matter of time before we get sick too." The team was quiet for a moment as they contemplated her words. Sam broke the silence first. "Okay, let's contact Janet, notify her about what's going on, and tell her we will need to be quarantined until we can figure this out. We also need to get a sample of that flower for her to study." Daniel hopped up. "I'll go send the message." As he left the tent, Teal'c spoke. "I will obtain the sample Major Carter. Perhaps my symbiote will provide me with greater resistance." Sam looked at him uncertainly. "I'm not sure that's a good idea Teal'c. The base can send a team back here with the right equipment to safely acquire a plant." Teal'c looked levelly at her. "Major Carter, that will take time. If the plant is indeed responsible for O'Neill's condition, then it appears to be a fast acting contagion. If that is the case, then time will be of the essence in finding a cure." Sam couldn't fault Teal'c's reasoning, as she happened to agree with it. She looked at the Jaffa, and nodded. Hoping she had done the right thing, she watched the huge man depart from the tent, then turned her attention to the colonel. The blood coming from his nose had stopped on it's own, leaving a red trail that ran down the side of his face, on to his neck, and out of view. Looking at the sight served only to remind her that they may be facing a dire situation. Teal'c left the tent and went to the crate containing unused sample bags. He withdrew four and headed in the direction of the field, hoping that the diminishing light would hold out for a while longer. He realised that he should bring a flashlight, but didn't want to waste the time it would take to find one. Running in long, easy strides, he approached the hill quickly. Soon, he was up one side, down the other and at the edge of the flower field. Taking one sample bag, Teal'c reached over and plucked a flower, mindful to hold his breath to prevent inhaling the pollen. He repeated the procedure with the second bag. Once both were sealed, he took the added precaution of double bagging the blooms. That done, he turned in the waning light, and headed back for camp. Daniel was already back, not needing much time given the near proximity to the gate. He looked up as Teal'c lifted the tent flap and entered. He nodded approval as Teal'c held up the bags for them to see. Sam wrinkled her nose in distaste as she viewed the potentially lethal bloom. "Were you able to arrange for help Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c enquired. "Yes. I was just telling Sam here, that Janet is preparing a team to send through, complete with Haz-mat suits for us. They should be here within the hour. She is also readying the isolation ward for us. She wants us all together in case we show the same symptoms as Jack. Jack began to stir at the mention of his name. As the others watched, he tried to awaken, but his motions brought on another fit of coughing. When it had passed, Jack was once again unconscious, unaware of the blood he had brought up lying on the ground next to him, and the shocked look on the faces of his team-mates. Before the promised hour was up, the Haz-mat team came through, bearing four extra suits. Once the team were securely ensconced in their perspective suits, Jack was placed on a litter, and Teal'c's samples were placed in a hazardous materials transportation case. Two of Janet's medics took one end of Jack's litter, Teal'c took the other, and the group made their way to the gate. As usual, the trip through the Stargate took no time at all. As the group entered the gateroom of the SGC, they were greeted by a team also clad in the protective suits. Quickly they were hustled out of the room, down the corridors, up the elevator two floors and into the isolation ward. As promised, Janet was waiting for them there, clad in a similar suit. She approached the litter and peered at the colonel through a double layer of transparent Mylar. While it obscured her vision somewhat, it was not enough to hide the fact that the colonel did not look well. His face was drawn and pale, with dark shadows under his eyes, and traces of blood still flecked on his face. She looked up and signalled to the medics to go ahead and place him in the chamber. They moved him into the outer airlock and waited for the doors behind to seal. When the air had exchanged, the inner door opened. Once inside, he was lifted off the stretcher and placed on the nearest of the four beds that lay within. The medics then turned and left in the same manner. As they exited from the airlock, they left the room to decontaminate. Daniel, Teal'c and Sam followed the same procedure of entering, then turned and watched as the doors sealed shut behind them. The isolation chamber was well named. While it had windows on all four sides, it was indeed cut off. It had it's own complement of medical equipment, and life support system. The air was cleaned, filtered and returned without ever mixing with the rest of the building's. While it drew it's power from the main system, it had it's own back-up generator which kicked in automatically in the event of a power failure. An airlock quickly stole all the potentially contaminated air, then returned it with clean, filtered oxygen. An incineration chute was placed on the wall, unobtrusively in one corner. The three able team members shucked off their suits, then Jack's, and stuffed them down the chute were they fell into the incinerator. When all of that was accomplished, they sat down and turned to watch as Janet entered the room. She smiled a quick greeting at them as she moved to Jack's bedside. As she took his vitals, she questioned them about the onset of his illness, nodding as she listened. With her hand so heavily encased in gloves, it was impossible to take a pulse, so she hooked him up to the EKG. It showed a weak heart-rate. He was hypotensive with a blood pressure of 80/50. As she started to record his readings, her frown was apparent. Her years of practice showed as she deftly inserted an IV, despite the heavy encumbrances that tried to hinder her motions, then took a blood sample from the crook of his arm and labelled the vials. She looked out the window at the nurse who stood waiting. "I want a chest X-ray done stat." She rechecked his BP and was pleased to see that the addition of extra fluids had helped to raise the readings a margin higher. That done, she turned to the other members of the team. She approached them one at a time, and inquired about the presence of any symptoms, as she took blood from each of them. She put those vials in a tray alongside the colonel's, then placed the tray in a smaller airlock to be accessed from the outside. Sam waited until Janet was done with her work, before stopping her with a question. "So, how is he?" Janet looked steadily at her as she replied. "He seems stable enough, although weak. At this point I have no clue as to the problem. I'll run some tests, and let you know as soon as we find anything. In the meantime, I suggest you get comfortable. You might be here for a while." With that, Janet left. Jack groaned from his bed, and slowly woke up. He put his hands to his head as he shut his eyes against the bright overhead light. "Whoa. What a hangover," he croaked. The rest of the team moved swiftly to his side and helped him to sit up. "How do you feel, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked, concern apparent in his voice. Jack groaned again, but this time it was in response to the question. He hated being asked that, as it tended to involve him being skewered, infected or shot. This time the word infected sprung to mind. As he took in the faces of those around him, he realised he was being selfish. They were worried, and he was indulging himself. He sat up straighter. "I'm okay Teal'c. Got a bit of a headache, and feel like I could sleep for a week, but that's about it." His words might have soothed them if it was not for the fact that his nose chose that moment to bleed once again. Daniel silently handed him the box of tissue that sat on the table beside the bed. Jack nodded his thanks as he proceeded to tend to his now too frequent nose-bleed. He heaved a heavy sigh as he realised that this routine was getting old, fast. When the bleeding had finally stopped, although it seemed to take longer each time, he let his head fall back against his pillow. He felt tired, old and worn, and his head was starting to pound even more than before. He thought about asking Janet for a painkiller, but knowing how worried everyone already was, he thought that might just add to it. He decided to wait it out. Maybe the pain would ease off. He let his eyes fall shut, and before he knew it, he was fast asleep. Understanding the need to let Jack rest, the rest of the team moved to the bed furthest away, and sat down to wait for some word from Janet. Miles away, a phone rang, and an unknown voice answered. "I have something you might be interested in." "Doctor Fraiser, come and take a look at this" the tech called. Janet moved quickly, and adjusted the viewer on the microscope, bringing the sample into focus. Her quickly inhaled breath told the technician that what he had seen wasn't his imagination. As Janet watched, Jack's blood was being slowly consumed in front of her. She looked up with an expression of shock, and disbelief, before turning back to the sample. She put the images on the videoscope, then digitised them into the computer. With a quick word to the technician to continue running tests, she left to see the general. She was admitted to his office after only the briefest of waits. "Doctor Fraiser. Have you found anything?" the general asked without preamble. Janet nodded. She indicated his computer. "May I?" At his nod, she quickly called up the images she had recorded in the lab. "This is a sample of Colonel O'Neill's blood. I believe this," she indicated one of the oval shapes, "to be a spore from one of the flowers Teal'c took samples of. We are running comparisons right now to confirm this. What you are seeing, General," she paused for effect "is the destruction of blood cells." Hammond looked at, not quite understanding. "What do you mean?" "What I mean is... this spore... seems to be eating the blood. From the increase in size it has shown, it appears as though it is converting the colonel's blood into a food source." Janet realised the implications of what she had just said, as did the general. "You mean that this spore is killing the colonel in an effort to grow and maybe reproduce?" "General, I'm not sure about much just yet. What we do know for sure is that there were signs of inhabitation on that planet, in the only spot this flower was shown to grow. There are no people there any more, and now it appears that the colonel is affected. This is not exactly unprecedented in nature, as you know. While we don't have man eating plants, we do have carnivorous ones. Look at the Venus Fly Trap, and the Pitcher Plant. We have to go on the assumption right now that this organism is the cause." Jack was a friend of hers and she was as worried as anyone about what was happening to him. A horrified look crossed Hammond's face as a thought came to him. "You mean that the field that the team described was a... a mass grave... caused by those flowers?" Janet's voice spoke of profound sadness. The same thought had occurred to her when she became aware of the nature of the contagion. "Yes, sir, I believe it is." Shaking off the thought, Hammond turned his attention to something he hoped they still had control over. "What about the colonel? Can you help him? Is there any way of killing this thing?" He was frustrated. His second in command was most likely dying, and he was unable to do more than supply his CMO with the resources that she needed, and hope it was enough. Janet understood his frustration, as it mirrored her own. "The colonel is weak, sir. His blood work indicates a significant reduction in his red blood cells. While this organism uses all components of blood, the red and white cells, as well as the platelets, it seems to prefer the red. I will set him up with a transfusion when I leave from here. As for killing this, we are trying several ideas. Since it is organic, it should be possible, It's just a matter of finding the means. Obviously chemicals are not an option without causing serious harm to the colonel, and we cannot remove the food source." "What's left then?" "Well, sir, I think we will have to look at environmental means." Hammond could see her thinking of different alternatives even as she spoke. Knowing the urgency of her task, he decided that further dialogue could wait. "Doctor Fraiser, I want you to go and figure this thing out. Use whatever, and whoever you need. Let me know if anything further develops." "Yes, sir. Thank you." As Janet turned to leave the room, she was stopped by a final question. "Doctor, are the rest of the team all right?" She saw the concern on his face and hoped her answer would help. "So far they are showing no signs of being infected. I will take another series in an hour or so and compare the results." Seeing his dismissive nod, Janet left. The general stared unseeing at the wall. When he had been assigned this command, he never expected events like this. He rubbed his temples wearily, then turned back to the report on his desk. The Defence Secretary had been notified of the possible contagion, and wanted to be kept constantly up to date. Janet was greeted by four sets of expectant eyes as she re-entered the Isolation Unit. She had taken the time to stop by the lab to check on any possible developments, before going to inform the team of her findings thus far. Jack had awakened some time earlier, and spent the last half hour reassuring his friends that he was fine. When he saw Janet, he lit up at the thought of some confirmation. It didn't take long to realise that she wasn't returning with good news. As she started to set up the transfusion, which Jack bore with a look of utter distaste, Janet turned to look him squarely. "Colonel, it seems as though you have been infected by the spore from those plants that Teal'c brought back. You inhaled it, and it settled in your lungs. The X-rays came back, and showed a disintegration of the lining of your lungs. That's why the cough hit so hard." Before Jack could interrupt, she continued. "The organism has entered your blood stream is feeding on your blood and soft tissues. I'm giving you blood to replace some of the volume you've lost." She finished the transfusion and set about taking a fresh set of blood samples. Jack was stunned by what he heard and was not sure how to respond, so he reverted to form. "Talk about consumption." It was lame, and he knew it, but it helped him to banish the visions of leaves sprouting from his body that had suddenly sprung to mind. Janet did not appear amused. When he saw her prepare his arm for more blood, he decided that a change of topic was in order and asked in a plaintive voice, "What's the point of putting blood in, if you're just going to take it right back out?" Janet smiled in understanding. She pulled out some oxygen tubing, and placed a nasal canula on him. "This should help your lungs, Colonel." Sam called out. "Won't the extra oxygen just exacerbate the growth rate?" "Not in the tests we've run so far. Nothing seems to effect it very much. We've tried different percentages of oxygen, carbon dioxide and carbon monoxide." Sam thought for a moment. "What about light. Have you tried using different filters." Janet nodded. "We've tried all different spectrums. While the growth rate is slowed somewhat, particularly when we filter the ultra violet, it is not significant enough to pursue as a cure at this point." A thought occurred to Sam. Plants required photosynthesis to produce food. While these spores were using a different food source, they would most likely still need some light to grow, or at the very least, germinate. As they were in the blood stream, they would travel through the circulatory system to the layer under the epidermis, thereby exposing them to light. Perhaps if altering that source wasn't successful, maybe complete removal of it would be. "Have you tried eliminating all light?" As Sam asked the question, she caught sight of Janet's suddenly shocked look and mistook it for recognition of a possible solution. Then she felt it. The slow trickle of blood coming from her own nose. Her hand shook as she raised it to touch the blood. "Oh my God," she whispered. She knew that the rest of them could be infected, but enough time had lapsed that she started to entertain the notion of being out of the woods. Now the reality hit that she might very well be condemned to a slow death. "Janet..." A few quick strides took Janet to Sam's side. While Sam was military, and trained to contain her emotions, the strain of the last few days, and this new development had caught up with her. The three men looked on helplessly as Janet pulled her into a quick, although awkward given her suit, embrace. "It's going to be okay Sam," the brunette whispered into Sam's hair. "We'll find the cure." Janet gave Sam another quick, reassuring hug. As Janet was about to leave, Jack started to cough again. She ran and grabbed a basin, and held it to his lips. The cough came, left and came again, violently. At each interval, he would spit out the blood before another fit seized him. Finally he quieted, and leaned back in exhaustion, his body shaking. Janet moved to the medicine cabinet, removed a syringe and a vial. She drew out a measure, returned to the colonel and introduced the sedative into his drip to help him rest. She looked over to see Sam watching the terrifying scene, horror written clearly on her face, knowing she was watching her own fate. Sadly, Janet left the room, bloody basin in hand. The soldier was asked to repeat his orders, which he did with complete accuracy. Once dismissed, he left the base and started to drive. A tired looking Janet Fraiser checked the latest test results with trepidation. It had been several exhausting hours which she had spent between the isolation unit, and the lab. The tests had all produced discouraging results, and she didn't expect this batch to be any different. As she pulled the sample from the black box, a smile crossed her face for the first time in hours. She called the technician over to double check the results. He confirmed them. Three hours without any light source had slowed the take over of cells by fifty percent. Even if this was not the cure, at least it would at least buy the team some time. She raced off to inform the general of her findings. The soldier quietly entered the lab. The engrossed technician was poring over a microscope, and never even bothered to look up. The soldier moved over to the table where Janet had been working. By the time he left, only a minute had passed, and the table was minus one sample bag, a vial of the colonel's blood, and the results from the black box. After speaking with Janet, General Hammond followed her down to the infirmary. He approached the glass of the isolation unit warily, unsure what he would see. Jack lay on the bed motionless, his eyes closed. During the past hours, his condition had deteriorated rapidly, in direct proportion to the growth of the spores. While their numbers did not appear to multiply, they were steadily increasing in size. Janet knew it was only a matter of time before they began to germinate, and she was desperate to find a cure before that happened. Jack's pale face was now partially obscured by the intubation tube and tape holding it in place, as his ability to breathe unaided had become severely compromised. Twin bags of blood ran into the vein under his collarbone. Janet had to put in the subclavian line as his need for greater blood volume had increased. The spores were voracious, and showed no signs of ceasing their consumption rate. The heart monitor at his side beeped monotonously. As the general looked on, he saw Teal'c and Daniel apparently talking to a very pale Sam Carter. She was now getting assisted with oxygen via a canula. While she did not yet need blood, she was on an IV, with orders for a transfusion if her blood count dropped any lower. Hammond looked over at Janet. "Why are Teal'c and Doctor Jackson doing so well?" "I'm not sure. We think Teal'c's symbiote is protecting him, and our best guess is that Daniel's antihistamines helped him. His blood is still not showing any signs of infection." Janet glanced down at the chart she was holding. "Major Carter is slowly losing ground, but not at the same rate as the colonel. He has a much greater density of the spores in his blood. He was infected first, but he must have been exposed to a much higher dose than her, to be so much worse." "Why can't you give those two some antihistamines?" "We ran some tests with that in mind, General. They appear to have worked prophylacticly in Daniel. Once exposed, they no longer help. In fact, General, I would advise giving all personnel a dose as a precaution." "See to it, Doctor." Janet nodded at the nearby nurse. They had already planned a vaccination program when the benefits became apparent. The general swung his gaze back to Jack. "What is his condition?" "Not good, sir. The spores are devouring blood cells as fast as we can get them in. We had to intubate him to ease his lungs, but the damage is extensive. Even if we are successful in dealing with this infection, it will take some time for him to heal." Janet noticed the expression crossing the general's face. She was well aware of his paternal feelings towards Jack and the rest of SG1. "With your permission, sir, I'd like to try something. We ran a test on the spores at Major Carter's suggestion. We deprived them of light for three hours. The growth of the spores slowed down considerably. I'd like to try the same thing on the team, although it would have to be for a longer period of time. I'm hoping that the spores will not only slow, but actually start to deteriorate." "How long do you need, Doctor?" Hammond was ready to try anything. "I'd like at least twenty-four hours. We have a series of samples being tested right now. We plan to check them at various intervals. Hopefully we find the right amount of time to do the job. At the very least, it will buy us some more time to look into other options." Janet looked at the general with what she hoped was a confident expression. Hammond nodded. "Go ahead and try Doctor. Let me know how things are going. In the meantime, I have to let the Secretary know where we're at. I don't think he will be too pleased. At least the problem appears to be contained." The general turned and slowly left the room, his shoulders drooping from the strain. Janet put on her suit and entered the unit. She quickly checked on Jack. Despite assistance, his breathing was still strained, but thanks to the transfusions, his blood pressure was holding. She moved to the group around Sam's bed. "We think we may have come up with something. We took your suggestion Sam. The spores don't do well in the complete absence of light. We haven't had enough time yet to find out if they can actually be destroyed that way, but it looks promising." Sam turned tired eyes on her friend. "So you want to put us in a completely light deprived environment?" Daniel looked shocked. "You're kidding right?" The thought of being in a black-out shook him. Daniel had never needed to disclose his dislike of the dark, as the situation had never come up. There was always a light on in the SGC, and in his apartment was the aquarium he left lit, day and night. Thinking about it, he realised that even when he stayed at Jack's, something was always giving off light. Funny how he had never realised that before. As the others turned to him in surprise at his reaction, he tried to come up with an argument that would satisfy them. "What about Jack. How do you plan to tend to him in the dark?" Janet had not considered that. She looked across the room at the supine man, as she thought about it. " I guess I'll have to stay in here with you. We have all the supplies we need, and if I have to, I'll risk a flashlight." "Doesn't that defeat the purpose?" Unwilling to admit how much the plan scared him, Daniel sought to find holes in it. Janet sighed. "Yes Daniel, it probably does. But I don't have any other ideas. I think we can keep the use of the flashlight down to a minimum so it shouldn't have too much of an effect. I can't think of anything else right now, and time's running out." Janet took in a shaking breath. She was tired, worried and more than a little frustrated. Blood eating spores were a little out of her league. As Daniel looked quizzically at her, she realised that more elaboration was required. "From what little we have learned so far, we have made a few deductions about these things." "Such as?" Sam asked, always the scientist. "It appears that these spores are quite unlike those that we are familiar with. Typical spores only live about 24 hours. These appear to survive much longer. Now that they have a food source, we have to assume that germination will occur soon. What we don't know is if germination is determined by the growth of the spore, or by the chemical make-up of the host. "I do not understand, Doctor." Teal'c was listening intently to the conversation, but biology was not his strong suit. "Well Teal'c. The body undergoes certain biochemical changes when depleted of blood. The spores had already attacked the colonel's lungs and soft tissues before we were able to transfuse him. We think that our intervention is why the damage had not progressed beyond that. My guess is that if untreated, the spores kill the host by decimating it's blood supply thus triggering these changes. Germination then occurs, with the host's body providing the necessary nutrition for growth. By providing the colonel with new blood, we seem to be keeping germination at bay, although the spores continue to grow. We can't keep transfusing him indefinitely though. That carries severe risks as well. These things keep eating up everything we give him anyway." Janet paused and looked over at the sleeping colonel before resuming. "Of course, this is all supposition. These things are alien and behave unlike anything we've seen before. Our task now is to figure out how to destroy these things, and Sam's suggestion is the only thing showing any promise so far, without risking the host. In this case, Jack." With Janet's Janet breathed a sigh of relief then continued. "I'm going to give each of you a mild sedative. That will help you rest. Hopefully if you can get some sleep, you won't notice the time so much. I also want to start a nutrient drip on you, since room service is probably not going to happen. Any questions?" No one bothered to ask anything, as they knew there really wasn't much choice but to go with the plan. Janet settled each person on their bed. She started IV's on Daniel and Teal'c, as the other two already had them. She then added a nutrient bag to each line, including Sam and Jack's. Next she administered the sedative. Teal'c looked at her. "What about you, Doctor Fraiser. Will you not suffer from hunger?" She grinned at him. "It's okay Teal'c. Once I discussed this plan with the general, I stopped by the commissary. I had them make me up a sandwich." She pat the small cooler she had previously set by the medicine cabinet. "Okay everybody, all set?" Three yeahs were heard with varying degrees of enthusiasm. She nodded to the nurse who stood in the doorway. He hit the light switch and the room plunged into darkness, with the exception of the light coming in from the doorway. That lasted only seconds, as the same nurse left the room and closed the door behind him. Once the darkness descended, and no-one could see, Janet silently slipped out of her suit. She knew the risks she was taking, and that she could be severely reprimanded when the general found out, but she was confident that the cure would be found, and in the meantime, the suit was compromising her ability to treat her patients. She hoped that the general would see her decision in the same light. Miles away, on another base, a smug looking officer accepted a package from the soldier. He dismissed the man. As he retreated to his office, a voice spoke to him from the shadows. "Do you have it?" "Safe and sound. It appears we may have the makings of a potent weapon!" The voice sounded pleased. "Good. I was told you were the right man for the job." The officer couldn't keep the pleasure from his voice as he responded. "You were informed correctly. We may also have an unexpected bonus." "How so?" the voice asked. "It appears as though O'Neill may be the first casualty." This time the officer didn't even try to hide his smile. "That was not part of the plan." "No, but it sure is a nice fringe benefit, don't you think?" The officer found himself alone. A voice over the intercom startled the dosing group. "Doctor Fraiser. We checked the next set of samples. At twelve hours, the smallest of the spores showed signs of shrinking, while the larger ones did not appear to be affected." Janet accepted the news gratefully, but declined to reply in the hopes that her charges might go back to sleep. The sedatives that Janet had given the team had been effective. Daniel, Teal'c and Sam had joined Jack in sleep. That had been eight hours ago. Janet had only needed to use the filtered flashlight minimally to check on the team. Sam's condition had not worsened, much to her doctor's relief. Jack had suffered another nosebleed early on. It was a bad one that took Janet some time to stop. His blood pressure had dropped accordingly, but was slowly showing signs of improvement to her great relief. Daniel spoke up, his voice raspy from the drug induced sleep. "So, did we miss anything?" Janet grinned. It seemed as though Daniel was picking up some of Jack's sarcasm without even being aware of it. "Well Daniel," she replied, "we have some promising news. The last samples were showing the beginnings of deterioration." "How long did that take?" Hearing Janet's disembodied voice was more disturbing than Daniel cared to admit. "About eight hours. How are you doing?" "Fine" Janet waited a while to see if any more information was forthcoming as something in Daniel's voice told her that was probably the opposite of what he was feeling. The silence hung heavily in the air disturbed only by the rhythmic breathing of her patients, and the soft beeping of Jack's EKG. She began to think that Daniel had indeed dosed off. A subdued voice broke the silence. "Janet?" It was Daniel. "Daniel. Are you okay? You're not feeling any symptoms are you?" "No." His voice sounded small. "What's going on Daniel?" she asked in a soft, quiet voice. In the complete darkness, it was easy for Daniel to picture that he and Janet were alone, or maybe he just wanted to. It made it easier that way. "I was just remembering when I was nine." Janet knew something about Daniel's early life. He had been orphaned at a young age. His parents dying tragically in front of him. After that, it was a matter of being bounced from one foster home to another, a life that would have been hard enough at the best of times, but couple that with an overly bright, misunderstood child and you had the recipe for disaster. "What happened when you were nine?" She deliberately kept her voice quiet and soothing. "I was moved in to my new foster parent's house. They were an older couple. They had two children. Boys. Both were older than me." Janet prompted him to continue, knowing there was something about this that he needed to purge himself of. Daniel sat in silence for a moment, unaware of other sets of ears listening quietly. Sam and Teal'c had both woken up to the intercom. Neither had spoken while they shrugged off the effects of the sedatives. By the time they felt better, Janet and Daniel had begun. Sensing the delicacy of the moment, they remained silent. Unknown to the rest of them, one more member of the team was awake. Jack had pulled himself from the depths of his subconscious hours before. He woke to a world of hurt and confusion. He had been asleep when the team was apprised of Janet's plan, and waking to absolute darkness, had thrown him. He wondered briefly if he had gone blind, until he was caught sight of the faint glow from the EKG machine alongside his bed. Somewhat reassured, he lay there, taking stock of the situation. His chest and head hurt. As he moved his arms cautiously, he became aware of the tubes running into him. There seemed to be a number of them. He realised from previous experiences that the foreign object in his throat was an intubation tube. He heard the quiet, steady beeping at his side and knew that he was in an infirmary. He assumed from his hazy memories that he was in the SGC, but couldn't be sure. Realising that he seemed to be in one piece, he lost that particular distraction, which left him to stare blindly out in space, lost in his thoughts. Jack didn't like the dark. He didn't like the feelings it brought out in him. Even at home he always kept a light of some sort on. He had ever since Iraq. He learned to dislike the dark when he was there. 'Who are you kidding,' he mentally lectured himself. He was downright afraid if the truth be told. He had learned the hard way that the dark could be a frightening place. He spent the next couple of hours counting the beeps from the EKG, and listening to the sound of his own breathing, albeit assisted. Anything to distract himself from the memories the situation was dredging forth. The voice from the intercom had taken him completely by surprise. Until then, it had just been him and his heartbeat. When he heard Daniel and Janet start to talk, he debated about making some noise to alert them that he too was awake, that is, until he heard Daniel's voice. Like Janet, he knew there was a problem. Unable to go to his friend, or even talk to him, Jack resolved to at least be there for him by trying to understand. Daniel tried to struggle through his feelings. He was embarrassed to be seen as a coward. A grown man who was afraid of the dark was laughable, yet here he was... afraid. He knew that Janet would understand, as she always seemed to, and he would never have a better opportunity to unburden himself. With the others apparently still under the effects of the sedatives, it was just the two of them. He also knew that they had a long time left to go, and he didn't know if he would be able to stand much more without doing something. Already his heart was pounding, and his palms were sweaty, all classic sign of an impending panic attack. Janet moved surely, even in the total blackness. This was her territory, and she knew it like the back of her hand. Quickly she gained the foot of Daniel's bed. Feeling along the right hand side-rails, she moved to the head and sat in the chair that was waiting there. Silently, she reached out in the darkness and found Daniel's hand. Taking it in hers, she waited for him. That sure, gentle touch meant the world to Daniel. As a child, he had learned to let go of the hope of a mother's loving touch, or a father's sure grip. Foster parents, or at least the ones he had, didn't seem to go for that kind of stuff. Not that they couldn't be physical, just not necessarily gentle. He learned quickly what he could, and could not do. For all of Jack's gentle joking with him that he needed to learn to duck, he actually had, years ago. Now it was to avoid being shot with some sort of weapon, back then a fist was the weapon, or whatever else was handy to hit with. Daniel took a deep breath as he wondered how to start. "I used to run away a lot. I kept hoping that if I could just get away, things would be better." His voice was so childlike that Janet felt her heart clench in response. She squeezed his hand in encouragement. "I would get so mad when my case worker would show up and chew me out for being disruptive, and difficult." Anger was seeping into his words. "I mean, if Cassie ran away, wouldn't you question why?" Janet could feel his eyes bore into her, even in the dark. Knowing he couldn't see her nod, she gave a soft yes in reply. Across the room, Sam and Teal'c listened on. Already the picture was becoming clear, and it wasn't pretty. Daniel continued. "My dad would find me sometimes, other times it was the police, or a concerned neighbour." He laughed harshly at that. "Isn't it ironic. They were concerned, so they would take me back there." Janet could feel a shudder run through him. She brought her second hand up and wrapped it around their already joined ones. The tension that was pouring off him in waves, subsided a little. "They had a closet for me. It was my punishment closet. They used to laugh about that. They'd even show it to their friends. 'Oh look, that's Daniel's closet' they'd say and everyone would think it was so funny... everyone except me. I would sit in there for hours, contemplating my sins." He spat those last words out, as if they left a bad taste in his mouth. He gripped Janet's hand tighter. "It was so dark, and I would get so scared. I never wanted to go in there. I would do anything not to go in there..." Daniel's broken voice trailed off. Janet stood up, reached over and pulled the man into a hug. He gripped her with all his strength. She felt his tears run onto her shoulders, and her heart wept with him. This man who was so kind and gentle, had been through so much. She held him until he finally began to relax. She took the flashlight from her coat pocket and pressed it into his hands. "Take this, and use it if you need to. It will bring the light back." Daniel handed it back, and spoke equally gently. "I think it already has. Thank you." Janet wasn't the only one who smiled. She moved to check on Jack, using the flashlight to see him, and was surprised to find him awake. Before she could speak, he moved his head from side to side, and took her hand in one of his own. He didn't need to speak. She understood the look in his eyes perfectly. Standing up straight, she made a point of checking his vitals. They hadn't changed which she counted as a blessing at this point. She changed the saline bag on his IV, and hung a new unit of blood. She moved to make some notations on his chart. When she was done, she gave him a last look, then moved to check on the others. Teal'c feigned sleep as she approached. She only needed a moment to reassure herself that he still appeared to be fine. When she moved away, he opened his eyes to follow her retreating form in the dim light that travelled with her as she walked over to Sam's bed. This time Janet wasn't surprised to find another patient awake. Sam was wiping away the last traces of tears as her friend approached. Knowing that Sam had overheard her conversation with Daniel, she realised that they all sought to protect his privacy. She smiled her acknowledgement and gratitude at the sick woman. As she checked Sam's pulse, the major noticed her attire. Sam knew that Daniel still thought she was asleep, but as she couldn't speak in that state, she decided it was time to wake up. "Janet?" she called in what she hoped was a sleepy voice. Janet played along. "Sorry Sam, I didn't mean to wake you up. How are you feeling?" Sam thought about that for a moment. "Actually, I think I feel better." "Well, your vitals are somewhat stronger. I'm still going to leave you on oxygen though. Even if these spores are being affected by the darkness, you still have sustained some damage to your lungs. I believe they will heal, but it will take time." Janet was feeling a little encouraged by Sam's condition. She did seem stronger, although without being able to do some more elaborate testing, it was just a hunch, backed with little data. Sam looked at her critically. "Janet, where is your suit?" "Oh, that. I took it off. I can't be expected to treat you effectively when I'm all wrapped up now can I?" "Janet!" Sam was shocked. It was one thing to be exposed to something like this accidentally, but to deliberately take a chance on exposure was something else. "Listen. I took a healthy dose of antihistamines before I took the suit off. Now Daniel appears to be symptom free, and I believe that's why. He had the same drug in his system. I also believe that we are on the right track with this. So, the way I see it, there really isn't much risk, and the benefits far outweigh those. Now, I want you to try to get some sleep. You still look tired." Sam couldn't argue with that. She was tired. She flashed Janet an appreciative smile, and closed her eyes. Janet was feeling a little weary herself. It had been a while since she had really rested. Between trying to find a cure, treating the team, and now this talk with Daniel, she was starting to feel frayed. Leaning her head back to rest against the wall, she closed her eyes. Jack's head was hurting. To distract himself, he thought about what he had heard between Daniel and Janet. He was grateful to the doctor who was once again there to patch them up, physically, and it appeared mentally. Jack had known some of what Daniel had gone through, but not all of it. His nails had dug deep crescent shaped cuts into both palms as his fists had tightened more and more throughout the conversation. Suddenly, the pain in his head flared, and his eyes rolled back in his head. He was unaware of the blood flowing violently from his nose and ears. The officer picked up his phone. The unknown voice on the other end answered. "What is our status?" The officer smiled. "We have isolated the spores, and are now in the process of growing them." The voice replied "Did you find a satisfactory repository?" "Eminently." With that the officer hung the phone gently up on it's cradle. Jack woke with a start. The pain in his head was excruciating. He tried to see where he was, but there was no light. He realised that they had probably put him in the pit again, although he couldn't remember what he had done this time. His body ached from what he assumed were the blows they so enjoyed raining on him. As he moved his hands to his face, he felt something hindering his movements. He touched one hand to the other, and felt the offending needles that pierced his skin. Frantically he grabbed them and tore them out, painfully, ignoring the blood that flowed from the wounds. He tried to yell a protest, but realised that something was in his mouth, preventing his words. Panicking, he grabbed for the object, assuming it was a gag. His hands encountered the plastic tubing, but his mind was to deeply ensconced in the nightmare to register what he was doing. Janet barely heard the colonel stir. She was so sleepy. It wasn't until she heard him thrashing that she fully awoke. She jumped to her feet and grabbed the flashlight at her side. She ran over to the colonel's bed, unsure of what was going on. He was grabbing at his intubation tube, and appeared to be trying to pull it out. "Colonel," she yelled, unintentionally loud, her cry alerting the others to the problem. She tried to grab his hands, but they were slick with blood, and she couldn't hold them. Teal'c appeared beside her, and grabbed them for her. "Colonel, can you hear me?" It was obvious to Janet that Jack wasn't anywhere near. His eyes were wild, and showed no signs of recognition. "Can you hold him?" she questioned Teal'c, who nodded. She leaned over him. "Jack, it's Janet." Beside her the EKG was beeping crazily in time with Jack's heart. She sensed movement beside her, and looked to see Daniel and Sam moving to her side. Both of them heard the commotion, and fearing the worst for Jack, they left their beds and moved into the faint light cast by Janet's flashlight. Jack turned to look at her, but didn't understand what he was seeing. His head was pounding, and his captor was holding him down. He tried to break free, but couldn't. He wanted to yell, but was prevented from doing so. His body and mind rebelled at the situation. His breathing was coming faster, but the respirator wasn't keeping up. He began struggling to simply gain a breath. Janet realised what was going on. She decided to remove the tube, feeling that she could always put it back in later. Right now though, Jack was in danger of suffocating. She tried to grab Jack's head to hold it still, but he wouldn't cooperate. He fought like a man possessed, and even Teal'c was having a hard time trying to restrain him. Daniel moved up to the side of the bed and grabbed Jack's flailing legs. When she saw the two men had Jack somewhat immobilised, she took the light and ran to the medicine cabinet where she prepared a fast acting sedative . As she returned to the bed, she realised Jack had pulled his IV's out. She handed the flashlight to Sam to hold, and injected the substance directly into his biceps. Jack's struggles were weakening as his oxygen was depleted, and the sedative began working, allowing her to finally pull out the tube. He gasped painfully as he tried to pull air into his damaged lungs. Such was his desperation though, that he still managed to find the breath to gasp out "I'm not telling you anything!" His energy depleted, he lay back on the bed silently, chest heaving, eyes uncomprehending. Now that he was somewhat more calm, Janet was able to take a good look at him. His nose was bleeding copiously, and she caught sight of blood trickling from his ear. She cursed about not having the equipment necessary to fully determine what was going on. His breathing was still harsh, but the wild look was leaving his eyes as the sedative continued to work. She nodded at Teal'c, who released Jack's arms, then stepped back into the shadows. Daniel did likewise, although somewhat reluctantly. What he had seen shook him more than he cared to admit. "Janet?" Jack croaked, as he started to calm down and regain his senses. "Is that you?" He appeared unaware of the presence of the others, as they blended in with the dark backdrop. "Yes Jack. You gave me quite a scare. Are you all right?" Jack mumbled so softly she could scarcely make out his words. "Sorry, thought you were someone else." "What was that Jack, I couldn't hear you." She hoped he might elaborate, which he didn't. "My head really hurts Janet." The pain was obvious in his voice. "I know. Listen, you pulled out your IV lines. I'm going to put them back in, then I'll give you something for the pain, okay?" Jack nodded wearily, scrubbing his bloody hands across his face. When Janet had finished reinserting the lines, she made sure she taped them securely. She checked to make sure the subclavian was undisturbed, and gave a silent thanks that Jack had left it alone. She gave him a dose of morphine, then set about trying to stop the bleeding from his nose. It took some time, but eventually it stopped. She elected to use the nasal canula once again, as it was apparent that he was under some emotional duress, and the breathing tube had exacerbated things. She would have preferred to use a mask, but decided to forego that until he was ready. It was obvious how much of a toll the episode had taken on him though. His head drooped with fatigue, and he was weak from blood loss. Still, he managed to look up and give her a weak grin, although she could see in his eyes that he was still not completely with her. His body shook spasmodically as suppressed memories vied for attention. Not sure what had just happened, Janet decided to take things slow. "How's the head?" "It's been better." Janet was surprised. Jack never let her know how bad anything was. It was part of his makeup, as much as his one-liners and flippant attitude. Whatever had triggered his actions, it still had not completely released it's grip. Janet was unsure if this was a bad thing or not. Part of her wondered if she would be able to get him to open up and talk, while the other part argued it would be taking advantage of his present condition. Cautiously she ventured a question. "Who did you think I was Jack?" At first she didn't think he would answer, as he leaned his head into the pillows and closed his eyes. "Someone from another time, another place," he whispered. Daniel and Sam moved closer to one another. Both had been frightened for Jack. When it seemed like he would be okay, they had moved to leave, but were held in place by the scene being played out. For the first time, it sounded as though Jack might actually reveal something of himself. "Where Jack?" Jack was so tired. He was still confused. One minute he was in the pit, the next he was somewhere else, still in pain, still in the dark. Images of friends and enemies flashed across the lids of his eyes. He felt caught somewhere between the past and present. In both places he was hurting, confused, and being questioned in the dark. One phrase came to mind. One that he had said over and over, time and again. "I'm not telling you anything." He flinched as though waiting for the blow. Janet didn't know what to make of that. It was the second time in minutes that he had used that phrase. She sat gently on the side of the bed, and took his hand as she had earlier with Daniel. Beside her, the EKG monitor continued to slow it's pattern as the patient continued to relax. "Jack, it's Janet. If you want to talk, I'm here. If you don't want to, that's fine too. Would you like me to leave?" There was no response. A thought crossed Janet's mind. "Jack?" she questioned softly, "do you know where you are?" Still waiting to for the punishment, Jack replied without thinking. "The pit." Sam and Daniel looked at each other in the pale light. Daniel mouthed the words 'the pit' at Sam, hoping she knew what they meant. She shrugged her shoulders. "What pit Jack?" Again Jack answered before thinking. This time his voice was fainter. "The one they put me in when I don't answer their questions." His eyes opened, although his gaze appeared to be seeing something other than the scene in front of him. Janet felt sick. Her friend would never open up like this if he weren't hurting and drugged, his confusion obvious, and she was pumping him for information. Still, she felt compelled to see what more he would tell her. "Did they hurt you?" Jack's voice was flat, emotionless. "Yes." His lack of elaboration was chilling. "How long were you there Jack?" Janet's voice was softer still. Jack closed his against the memory. "Four months," his whisper barely audible. A kaleidoscope of images presented itself in his mind. Leering faces, torturous devices, the mouth of the pit and the sounds of suffering all flashed by, leaving Jack shaking. His heart beat was starting to race, and his eyes snapped open, the wild look returning. Janet realised that she had pushed too hard. She lay her hand on Jack's pale cheek, and whispered soothing words. Slowly he started to calm down, until finally, he closed his eyes again and fell into a drug assisted sleep. Janet and the others, each pushing their IV poles, moved to the other end of the room, to Sam's bed. Absently she placed the nasal canula back on Sam, and checked her IV. Sam glanced over at the other woman's face, and immediately took Janet's arm and guided the doctor to sit on the bed beside her. Janet looked like a shock victim, and in effect, she was. She looked at the three friends around her. As she spoke, her voice shook. "I didn't know. I mean, I knew there were some medical records in his file from Iraq, but they were sealed. I guess now I know why." The quartet looked across the darkness at their silent friend, each trying to absorb what they had heard, and each knowing they could never mention it again once they left this room. They were all shaken by the incident. Their fear for their friend had only increased, knowing he was battling not only the spores which threatened to quite literally, consume him, but his memories as well. Memories that were of a terrifying nature, and which he had deliberately kept from them. Daniel spoke up, his voice slow, remembering. "So that's what Jack meant on Hudante, when he said he'd been to prison." Now things in Jack's home made more sense. The constant presence of light meant as much to Jack, as it did to him. He too was taken back by what he had heard. He knew there had to be much more to the story, but realised that they had all heard about as much as they ever would. Beside him, Sam yawned hugely, her body still weak from the infection, and worn from worry. They all took the hint. Teal'c and Daniel went back to their beds, and Janet hopped off of Sam's. Rechecking that the other woman seemed all right, Janet left her to sleep. Knowing that she had too many emotions running through her, Janet decided not to try to regain her interrupted rest. Instead, she moved to sit in the chair by the colonel's bed. She wanted to be nearby if he needed her. She lay one arm on his mattress, and rested her head on it. Without planning it, she fell asleep, the flashlight in her hand casting a soft glow about the bed. In his office, General Hammond was yelling into the phone. "I don't care what time it is! Someone came into my base, took vital and classified materials then just disappeared? That's not good enough. You check all security tapes, and all check ins. That's the point of having guarded entrances. You get to monitor the people that get in here!" He listened to the person on the other end. "You're damn right I want him found. Yesterday!" Once again he listened. "That's right. You report only to me and I don't care how unimportant you think it is, you let me know. Dismissed." He slammed the phone down. Jack woke up several hours later. This time he was able to see, albeit the light was poor. He looked to his side to see Janet peacefully in slumber. His head felt better, and although his chest still hurt, he was able to breathe without as much trouble. He vaguely recalled waking up earlier and not being able to catch his breath, although he wasn't sure if he hadn't been dreaming. He glanced at his watch. It read 06:30 hours. That told him it was morning, but not what day. His movements, although slight, woke Janet. She saw him looking tired, pale, but alert. She did the same thing he had just done, and checked the time. "Good morning, Colonel. How are you feeling?" "Okay I guess. I still have a bit of a headache, and I feel like I just ran a marathon." He gave a little smile. Janet smiled as shades of the old colonel seemed to be peeking through. "That's to be expected. You had a rough night." All Jack's warning bells went off. Last night was a blur to him. He remembered a few strange dreams that he would just a soon forget, and certainly not share. Janet saw his defences go up and she tried to reassure him. "It's okay, Colonel. You suffered a serious nosebleed. It took some time, but we got it sorted out." "We?" The question was asked as stiffly as the man himself was. Janet mentally kicked herself, and now was looking for some damage control. "Teal'c just came to hold the light for me so I could work on you," she said soothingly. He must have accepted her answer as she could see some of the tension drain out of him. "So, where do we stand?" Janet walked around the bed to check his vitals. "We should be getting an update soon. Until then, we don't know any more than before. You should rest Jack. These bags need changing," she indicated the units hanging from the IV pole. "I'll be back in a few minutes." The area around Jack grew gradually darker as she walked away with the light, but this time he wasn't as bothered by the dark. The officer went to check on the test subject, who so far appeared unaware that he was the carrier of the world's greatest new biological weapon. The next report that came through was listened to closely by the five men and women in the Isolation Unit. "Doctor Fraiser. The latest samples just came out. At eighteen hours, the large cells have begun to shrink. Although they have not yet ceased ingestion of blood cells, they have slowed down. The smaller cells have expired. I will check in again in four hours." The relief in the room was palpable. The officer listened closely to the instructions coming over the phone. "It appears we have a setback. The latest report filed by Hammond indicates that the testing on the subjects appears to be working. They seem to have found the solution. That is not in our best interests. Change data if you have to, but fix it." The officer smiled, but it was not a pleasant one. "It will be my pleasure." The click on the line indicated the conversation was at an end. The officer pressed down on the receiver, then released it to make another call. The soldier answered. "I have another job for you." When the officer was finished detailing the task, he hung up. He smiled once again. Some days he really enjoyed his job. Back in the lab, the technician came back on duty and went over all relevant details with the man he was relieving. He noted with satisfaction the progress the experiment was making. At the rate the spores were decaying, he estimated another twenty-two to twenty-six hours before they were all dead. At that point, he would begin experiments to see if a person could be re-infected, or if they developed an immunity to the contagion. If that was the case, they could try to create a vaccine that would kill the spores before they were able to take hold in the host's blood cells. The team was sitting around Jack's bed. Janet had released Sam from the oxygen, but she still had everyone on IV's. It was rather crowded with all of the poles surrounding them. Jack was sitting up. He was still experiencing difficulties breathing, but since the last nosebleed, there had been no more incidents. As everyone looked at his pale, drawn face, it was hard not to visualise the scene from the previous night. More than one person wanted to ask about it, although no-one would. Perhaps an opportunity would present itself in the future, but that time wasn't now. Jack was an intensely private person, and would be more than a little uncomfortable knowing he had unwillingly disclosed a small piece of his past, especially something so horrific. Janet brought forth some cards to help while away the time. She questioned the safety of using the flashlight like this, but decided that the mental health of the team was an important factor in their physical well being. Before long, the sounds of betting filled the room, as the team played poker under the dim light of a single flashlight. The technician looked up from his latest set of tests, to find his view filled with a rapidly moving fist. The soldier dragged the limp man to a nearby storage closet. He removed the technician's lab coat, then tied and gagged the man. His final step was to lock the door, then jam the keyhole. He looked around furtively to ensure no one had entered the room. Satisfied, he put on the lab coat and walked to the table recently vacated by the technician. He pawed through the files of newly collected data. Carefully, he rewrote the numbers, to show a much greater reduction in the spore counts. Double checking his work, he was satisfied it looked authentic. He placed the files in the folder destined for Hammond's desk. He also included a conclusion that indicated the success of the test, and the safety of discontinuing it. That done, he waited for word to finish the job. General Hammond was pleased when he opened the files. It appeared as though his people had come through again, in finding a cure at the eleventh hour. He wasted no time in calling the lab and giving them permission to conclude the experiment. The soldier contacted Janet. "Doctor Fraiser. The latest numbers came through. The spores are 91.3% destroyed. Upon re-exposure to light, they did not recover. I am pleased to tell you that General Hammond has given the all clear, and you may conclude your experiment. Congratulations Doctor and SG1." The soldier cut off the intercom, shucked off the lab coat which he folded and placed on the back of the chair, then left the room. In the isolation unit, the mood was upbeat for the first time in days. Daniel wasted no time in finding the lights. All felt the sting as their eyes tried to adjust, but welcomed the feeling. Janet left the isolation unit, turned on the lights in the rest of the infirmary, and opened the doors to the rest of the complex. She walked back to the team, and deftly removed the tubes that Teal'c and Daniel were still attached to, much to their relief. "Okay, first order of business is we get Jack into a regular room. I have some tests I need to run on him, and I would rather not do it from here." Distaste was apparent in her voice as she glanced around the room. She had spent far too much time in it for her liking. "Sam, I want to do some more tests on you as well." Within twenty minutes, she had the two patients settled in to their new quarters. She turned to Teal'c and Daniel. "Might I suggest that you two go and get some real food," she said with a smile. "While you're at it, bring me back something too will you?" She ignore the protests coming from Jack with a grin. The two men didn't need to be asked twice, and disappeared quickly. Janet turned to Jack. "Well, Colonel, it appears as though you've done it again." Jack looked at her quizzically. She explained. "Once again you beat the odds. Just don't go off smelling the roses again any time soon okay?" After discussing Sam and Jack's care with the duty nurse, and ordering all relevant tests, Janet left for a meeting with the general before trying to get a much deserved rest. The officer answered the phone.. "Is the job done?" "Yes, sir. The team is out of isolation. The archaeologist and the Jaffa are moving around the base." The officer nodded. "And Colonel O'Neill?" "He is in the infirmary. He seems to be in better shape than reported." The officer dismissed the soldier and hung up. He looked at the open file on his desk, and from it he picked up a picture of O'Neill. As he studied the face, he muttered aloud "Time will tell soldier, time will tell." He dropped the picture and watched as it landed face down on the folder. Four hours after Janet finally fell asleep, a summons from the infirmary came. As she ran down the corridors, she went past the open door of the lab. The sound barely registered in her hurry, but it was enough to cause her to enter the room. A thudding came from the closet. She tried to open the door, but the lock was jammed. Muffled sounds were coming from inside. Not wanting to spare anymore time, she entered the hall. A sergeant passed her and she grabbed his arm. "I think there's someone trapped in the lab. Notify the general and get some help getting him out." The sergeant nodded and hurried into the room. Janet flew into the infirmary. As she feared, the problem came from Jack's room. As she entered, she was taken in momentarily by the sight of blood. Jack was in the midst of a coughing fit, and was struggling to breathe. "What happened here?" she barked. The nurse glanced frantically over his shoulder at Fraiser. "He was complaining about a headache, then he started coughing and couldn't stop. At first it wasn't too bad, but then he started bringing up blood. That's when I had you paged." Janet started barking orders. "What's his pulse/ox?" "83" "Okay. Give him 2 cc's of Versed. We need to intubate. I also want two more units of blood going." She turned to Jack and looked him squarely in the eye. "Colonel, I know you don't want this, but I need to intubate. Your lungs are bleeding again, and we need to get your oxygen levels up. Now we're going to give you some medicine to relax you and make you sleep. Do you understand?" Jack managed to nod as he was gripped by another bloody spasm. Janet leaned over, brown eyes on brown. Softly she whispered the words only he could hear, "I won't leave you alone. Promise." As the Versed kicked in, Jack started to relax and his eyes drifted shut. The cough tapered off leaving Janet to insert the hated tube. She closed her eyes against the tear that caught her unaware. As she looked at her friend, she whispered a quiet "I'm sorry Jack." With her patient stable for the moment, she ordered some blood work and more chest X-rays, then went to check on Sam, who for the moment appeared unaffected. "What's going on?" Janet looked at her. "That's what I want to know. Jack was getting better. The test had worked." Janet remembered the noise in the lab. Before she got to tell Sam about it, the general entered the room. "Doctor Fraiser. I need you to look at something." Janet shot Sam a curious glance, but followed the general unquestioningly. He led her to the lab where the rescued technician was holding an ice-pack to his black eye. "Son, I'd like you to tell the doctor what happened," the general instructed him. "I actually don't know too much. I just looked over the latest test results, and next thing I knew, I woke up in the closet." Janet lifted one of the papers from the desk. She held it out for the technician to see. "You mean these results?" He peered at the paper through his good eye. "Yes... I mean no. These aren't the numbers I saw. This says the counts were much lower than what mine did." Janet took the paper and peered closely at it. She could see faint signs of erasing. Signs that would not be seen without close inspection. She picked up the copy of the file that had been sent to the general. Flipping through the pages, she came across the conclusion. The name at the bottom was the same as the technician's. She showed him the paper. "Is this your writing?" "No, ma'am, it's not." Janet looked at the general. "Sir, these results have been falsified." He looked at her curiously. "For what reason, Doctor?" Janet thought for a moment, then presented the general with the only conclusion she could come up with. "To get the team out of the only environment that would kill the spores. Sir, I think someone wants the team dead." The general looked at his CMO, and realised that she did not know of the earlier theft of the specimen. "We have a real problem then. The second flower, as well as some data and blood samples were stolen yesterday. We have as of yet been unable to find the culprit. I don't understand though, why they would not have used a different method of trying to eliminate the team, if that is their goal. You seem to have a viable cure, and they have all recovered." Realising that the general was of yet unaware of the downturn in the colonel's condition, she started to inform him. "I'm not so sure about that general. I don't know how much more damage has been caused by allowing the spores to re-grow. Sir, I need to move the colonel and Major Carter back into the isolation chamber. The infection is still active in them. Although the situation had improved, the colonel has now suffered a serious set-back. The general looked horrified. "Do you mean to tell me that the rest of this base could be infected as well." Janet thought for a moment. "No, sir, I don't think so. We vaccinated all personnel before the contagion was released. We will have to test everyone to make sure, but I think we are okay." Janet was anxious to get back to her patients. "With your permission, sir?" "Of course, Doctor. Keep me informed." The general watched her leave then turned back to the technician. "Are you feeling up to going over these reports Son?" "Yes, sir." With that they started the logistical nightmare of separating fact from fiction. Janet decided to make this stay in the isolation ward a little easier on all of them. She had ruled out Daniel as being infected, and Teal'c's symbiote seemed to have rid his system of all traces of the spores. She found herself wishing that she could patent his symbiote for medical purposes. It had pulled the man through many situations. She chose to sedate the two remaining patients, and this time, she planned on keeping them that way. She knew she couldn't handle another situation with the colonel on her own, nor did she want to expose him to more trauma. With both patients soundly sleeping, and all medical aids in place, she once again gave the signal for the lights to be turned out. This time, she told herself grimly, would be the last. Sighing in the dark, she settled herself in for a long night. The officer picked up the phone and listened. The smile that had started quickly turned into a frown. "I did not agree to that. That was never part of the plan." "Well now it is, and I expect you to carry it out. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir." "This is the last dealing we will have." "What about O'Neill, sir?" "It appears as though he will survive. That is not helpful to our cause. He has been a thorn in our side, and I wish to pluck it. Carry out your assignment, and I will tend to details. You know what to do." The officer retrieved his briefcase. He placed it on his desk and spun the combination dial until it unlocked. He lifted the lid. He then unlocked top drawer in his desk. He reached inside for an envelope. He placed it inside his briefcase and locked it. He paused to close the drawer in his desk, took his briefcase and left his office. Daniel and Teal'c got the summons to see the general only two hours after Sam and Jack went back into the isolation unit. As the reached his office, they heard him in discussion on the phone. Daniel poked his head in to inform the general of their arrival. Hammond beckoned for Daniel and Teal'c to enter as he finished his call. As they entered the room, they closed the door behind them. "Yes Mr. Secretary. Thank you, sir. I will pass on your best wishes. Yes. I will send the report as soon as all aspects are wrapped up. Yes. Good day to you too, sir." As the general hung up, he grimly looked at the two team-mates. He indicated for them to sit. "Gentlemen, we have a problem. That was the Secretary of Defence. He heard about the falsified reports and demanded to know what was going on. I reassured him that we have everything in hand. I think he believed me, and now I'm hoping to get to the bottom of things before I have to send any more reports through." Teal'c immediately picked up on the general's tension. "How may we be of assistance, General?" "About half and hour ago, a body was found by our maintenance crew. It was a man. He carried no identification, and wore civilian clothes." Daniel looked puzzled, "How did he get in then?" "Right now, given the lack of blood on the clothing, we are going under the assumption that the killer changed the man's clothes after he died. He must have been wearing a uniform to get on base." "How did the man die, General Hammond?" Teal'c asked. "He took a single bullet between the eyes. Whoever did this was a professional." The conversation was halted by a knock on the door. The general opened it and accepted the note handed to him. He gave a quick salute, then closed the door again. He walked to his desk and sat on the edge of it as he unfolded the paper. He scanned it quickly, his expression turning dark. "What is it, General?" Daniel asked. "We know who the body is. His fingerprints came up in military records. His name is Lieutenant Gary Jacobs, and get this..." the general looked pointedly at them. "He worked at Nellus." The implications of that statement were not lost on the two friends. Nellus was also known as Area 51, and all of their discoveries were sent there. Daniel looked at the other two before speaking. "What do you want to bet that a certain colonel who shall remain nameless, has a lethal flower in one hot little hand, and a smoking gun in the other." Daniel did not even try to disguise the contempt in his voice. "Careful, Doctor Jackson. That's some pretty shaky ground you're stepping on there." "Sorry, sir." Daniel wasn't able to make the sincerity realistic, but the general chose to ignore that. The general looked at the note thoughtfully, seemed to come to a decision, then stood up fully and squared his shoulders. "I have a job for you two. I want you to go to Nellus and see what you can find out about this man." He shook the paper. "I need to know why he was killed and why he was left here for us." Teal'c looked speculatively at Hammond. "I do not believe that they will welcome us at that base, General" "Don't worry about that Teal'c . I'll make sure you go there with all the authorisation you need. No-one, not even Maybourne will be able to prevent your investigation. I am hoping however, it will not prove to be a problem." "When would you like us to leave?" Daniel wondered why he asked when he already knew the answer. "Immediately. I'll have a plane ready at your disposal in five minutes." "Yes, sir." Daniel and Teal'c saluted the general who returned the gesture. As they moved to the door the general halted them. "We don't know what we're dealing with here, so I caution both of you to be careful." With that, Hammond turned back to the phone to make the necessary calls, and the two exited the room. The officer sat in his office, looking uncomfortably at the phone he had just hung up. Word had just come down that two members of SG1 were on route, and were to be afforded all courtesies. They were to be allowed access to all areas with the exception of those requiring level three clearance. This was not an unexpected turn of events, but the officer wished that someone else had been sent. Those two had the tenacity of blood hounds on the scent. Especially the big Jaffa who held a personal grudge against several members of Area 51. The officer was sure he would leave no stone unturned in this investigation. He was just grateful that his superior had foreseen this, and planned ahead. Daniel and Teal'c were escorted into the Nellus Military base four hours after leaving the SGC. The captain who was to serve as their guide, greeted them at the airfield, and drove them personally to the base. Their first stop was to look in Records, where the Lieutenant's file was waiting for them. It showed nothing spectacular. His military history wasn't outstanding. He did well in training, his academic history was acceptable, and his yearly performance appraisals were satisfactory. Nothing explained why he was now lying dead in the morgue. They moved on to the man's quarters, which appeared undisturbed. They asked the captain to excuse them, and closed the door behind him as the man waited in the corridor. They began checking the room. Teal'c started going through the man's personal belongings, while Daniel started searching the desk. The first thing he noticed was a picture of the Lieutenant with a smiling woman and child. His family. As he looked closer at the picture, he realised that the child was flashing a beaming smile from the confines of a wheelchair. Daniel sadly put the picture back in it's place, and began to leaf through the stack of papers sitting on one end of the desk. He found personal letters, bills, many of which were medical, and work orders. Nothing incriminating. Teal'c had finished searching the man's drawers and closet with no success. He went to pick up a box of assorted items that he spotted on the floor by the bed, when something grabbed his attention. A tiny corner of a file peeked out from under the man's mattress. Teal'c moved closer and pulled the file free, then lifted the mattress to see if there was anything more. Satisfied that the file was the lone item, he sat on the bed and opened it. In it were copies of the stolen data, as well as scribbled numbers that he thought matched the falsified ones in the general's report back on base. Thoroughly alarmed, he showed the file to Daniel. As the archaeologist spotted the discrepancies, his eyes widened. "We have to get this back to the base. Hammond needs to see this." Teal'c nodded in agreement. "I concur." They left the room, and instructed the captain to phone ahead and notify their plane of an imminent take-off. As they left the base with the file in hand, they were unaware of passing an unmarked, level three, secure room. Inside the self contained room, the man was happily enjoying his promised big screen TV, while he sat in the soft leather of his recliner. For someone who had been previously homeless and starving, this offer had been too good to be true. The words to the old adage never crossed his mind as he absently wiped a thin trickle of blood from his upper lip. As Janet heard the newest test results, she breathed easier for the first time in hours. Sam's latest blood work had shown a complete absence of the spore. She had not shown the same deterioration in the face of the exposure to light that the colonel had. In fact, aside from some remnant lung irritation which would not take long to clear up, she was as good as new. Jack was still very sick though. While the spores were dying, the remaining counts low, the damage to his lungs was still extensive. He was also suffering from the effects of multiple transfusions. His body had been through a serious ordeal, one which it would be slow recovering from. Tests showed a rapid decaying of the spores. At the present rate, she allowed a safe margin of another four hours before the colonel could be exposed to light. That fact was of no concern to him at the present as she still had him sedated, although she had lessened the amount. She discontinued the drip on Sam altogether, to allow the major to waken. The general was made aware that SG1 was on it's way home. He gave instructions for them to be escorted to his office as soon as they were back on base. Janet watched Sam wake up. The major blinked the sleep from her eyes and looked at her friend who sat haloed in the wan light created by the flashlight. "Good evening. Did you sleep well?" Sam sat up and took a sip of water from the cup waiting on her bedside table. Licking her dry lips, she looked at her friend trying to gauge the current situation. As Janet's face revealed nothing, she spoke up. "I slept great. I still feel a little fuzzy though." "That's from the sedative. It should pass soon." Janet waited for the inevitable question. It didn't take long. "How's the colonel?" Sam glanced over in the direction she knew his bed lay in. "He's not so great. He took a significant downturn in those hours before you were brought back here." As Sam's crestfallen look, she hurriedly continued. " The good news is, he hasn't gotten any worse since we moved him back in here. In fact, the spores are dying at a fast rate, and it should only be a few hours before the rest are destroyed. Then it's just a matter of damage control." Janet knew she was making it sound a little easier that the case actually was, but they had all been through enough, and she was confident that he would recover. Sam looked pleased to hear that the infection was dying. "How am I doing?" was her next question. "Your last tests showed a complete absence of the spores in your blood. Aside from wanting to run a few more tests, which can wait a while, you are free to go." Janet grinned at the smile on Sam's face. "You mean now?" Janet though about it. There was no need for Sam to remain any longer, and she could escort her to the door with the flashlight, but she was hesitant to expose Jack to the strong light that would come in when the outer door was opened. She could also understand Sam wanting to leave with no further reason to stay. Sam could almost read Janet's thoughts and understood her dilemma. She decided that with all that Janet had done for them over the last few days, she could make life a little easier for now. "Actually Janet, if you don't mind a little company, I wouldn't mind staying until the colonel can leave." Janet knew what Sam was doing, and appreciated it. With her two patients in a drugged sleep, she had been left alone in the dark with her own demons. Nothing as dramatic as Daniel and Jack had shared, but enough to leave her feeling emotional nonetheless. It had also left her with time to think about their current situation. She had come up with a theory on what was going on. Now that Sam was awake, she had someone to test it on. Sam hopped off the bed. Sleeping for hours on end might have been good for her health, but it was bad for her complaining limbs. They were stiff and sore from inactivity. She ran through a series of stretches, while Janet presented her theory. "I have been thinking about these spores, and why someone wanted you out of the test site." "And what have you come up with?" Sam was sounding slightly winded as she continued to exercise. As she talked, Janet hopped up on the bed. "What if... whoever stole the plant is worried that SG1 might be able to provide a vaccine against it's effects. We haven't been able to test this yet, but what if you now have an immunity against it?" "But that doesn't make any sense Janet. Why would they worry about an immunity. All they would have to do would be to put anyone that happens to get infected in the dark, the same as us." Janet hesitated. "Yeessss, but what if... what if they engineer the spores to be more resistant. You know how they make strains of wheat that need less water and can take more sun? What if they breed these spores to need less light?" Sam thought for a minute. "I don't think so Janet. I mean, I can see needing less light, but no light... they would need some to germinate." "Yes, but what if the spores don't actually die without it? What if they simply go dormant?" Sam was horrified at the implications of that. "Then you would have a ticking time bomb, with no way to stop it." Sam stopped exercising and looked at Janet. "We have to tell the general." Janet held up her hand. "Easy Sam. We will when we get out of here. Right now, I can't think of anywhere that's safer for you and the colonel. No-one can come in here." "Yes, but what about Daniel and Teal'c. They might be in danger." "I've been thinking about that too, and I don't think so. Whoever stole the data will know that Daniel was never infected, and that Teal'c never showed any signs of the infection. I'm sure he won't have made any antibodies to the spores since his symbiote acts in that capacity. That just leaves you and the colonel. We can come out of here in a few hours. When we do, I will have to set Jack up in the infirmary but maybe you can report this to the general." Sam quickly realised something. "Janet, if you're right, and we have produced an antibody, then Jack will be the likely target." It was Janet's turn to look puzzled. "Why?" "Well, he was exposed to the greatest amount. His system would have a greater concentration of antibodies than mine, and they'll know that from stealing the data." Janet turned to look in the direction where she knew Jack lay. Once again he would be in danger. She just hoped they could protect him. A great weariness fell over her, and she lay her head back for just a minute while she waited for it to pass. Sam restarted her stretches, when she realised that the conversation had ground to a halt. Sam asked a question, and received no answer. Curiously, she looked over. Janet was lying back against the pillow, fast asleep. Sam grinned. She took the flashlight from it's resting place on the bed and made her way across the room, to check on her other sleeping friend. While not trained in medicine, Sam had done enough bedside vigils to understand the readings on the monitors, and what she saw reassured her more than Jack's appearance. He was pale, even give the lighting. The shadows that had graced his face for days showed no signs of fading. He looked as though he had lost weight. Blood still ran down the thin tube to a spot on his chest concealed by the sheet, and a machine was still assisting his breathing. Clear bags of solution hung on the IV pole, dripping drugs into his debilitated system. As she looked at his calm face, she couldn't help but remember his remarks from the previous evening. Sam and Jack had not hit things off very well. He was Mr. Military, and she was female, and a scientist. He had informed her from the start that it was her profession and not her gender that he had a problem with. She had not believed him at first. She took him to be the same as all the other old school types that she had encountered during her career. It had not taken him long to prove her wrong. They had quickly developed a trust level that was matched only by that of the other members of the team. That was one of the reasons why they were so effective. Over the last few years though, she had come to respect him for more than his military mind. He carried himself with great courage and conviction that gave a sense of hope to everyone around, even in the face of overwhelming odds. He was perpetually looking out for the welfare of his people. Now that she had seen a glimpse of his past, she marvelled at that ability. She realised that the few remarks he had inadvertently shared with them were but the tip of the proverbial iceberg. His was a long, distinguished career. She knew he had attained the rank of colonel through deeds, not politics. While she was not privy to his file, she had seen enough in their years of fighting together, to know that he seen more than his share of combat. She had also seen the myriad of scars that patterned his body during their many trips to the infirmary. Given this new knowledge about him, she couldn't help but wonder how many came from that time. Losing herself in her thoughts, Sam continued to sit with the sleeping man, watching over him. Shortly after landing, Daniel and Teal'c were ushered into the general's office. They presented him with the file. He scanned it briefly, taking it's contents seriously. He put the file on his desk and turned to the men. "Gentlemen, well done. This puts Lieutenant Jacobs at the scene. I think we have our man." He took in the expressions on the faces of the two men. "Is there something you would like to tell me?" He looked at each man in turn. Daniel cleared his throat. "Um, yes, sir. It seems like this was just a little too easy." The general looked worried. "How so, Doctor Jackson?" "Well, sir, Teal'c and I were talking. Here you have a man with a sick child and financial worries. All of a sudden he's here falsifying reports, and leaving the evidence lying around. I mean, how did he get back there to Nellus to leave the report, then return here. Sir, I think maybe he did change the reports, but I think the evidence was planted for us to find." The general looked thoughtful. It had been too easy, and the soldier had not shot himself. Teal'c spoke up. "We have determined that the files were falsified in an attempt to eliminate SG1. The spores were expected to flare up again, thereby eliminating us. That attempt was unsuccessful. The questions now are threefold. Who wished us deceased? Are they satisfied with their failure, and who killed the lieutenant?" Daniel and the general looked at each other. That another attempt on one or more members of SG1 was a real possibility. The question remained, why. The assassin reported in. "Everything is as you said it would be." The voice answered. "Good. Did you have any problems getting past security?" "None. Your instructions were perfect." "Carry out your assignment. You will stay there until he's dead. Do I make myself understood?" "Perfectly." The assassin hung up. Jack and Janet had awakened at the same time. The technician had come over the intercom with the most recent results from Jack's blood work. The last of the spores had disappeared. He was cleared to move. Janet hopped off of Sam's bed, somewhat embarrassed at falling asleep on her patients, yet realising that she had been pushing herself to her limits. Sam walked over to the light switch, and with an unseen flourish, she flipped the switch. All three squinted against the blinding light, although they would welcome it shortly. When Janet's eyes had adjusted enough, she moved to Jack's side. He still looked poor, but the readings beside him indicated an improvement in his vital signs. He indicated the tube that was helping him to breathe. She understood the gesture immediately. "I know you want that out, Colonel, but you have to answer some questions for me first. I want complete honesty, understand?" Jack nodded. "On a scale of one to ten, how much are your lungs hurting?" Jack looked thoughtful for a moment. He then held up two hands. Some fingers were extended, some tucked against his palm. Janet counted. "Six?" Jack shook his crooked finger again. Janet had to grin. "Six and a half?" Jack nodded. "Okay. How much did they hurt before I intubated you?" Janet was looking forward to this. Without hesitation Jack held up nine fingers. Janet searched his face. Despite the pleading expression, she found honesty there. She heaved a heavy sigh. "All right, Colonel. You win." She reached for the tube. "Okay, Colonel, you know the drill. I want you to take a deep breath, then blow it out while I pull. Ready?" Jack nodded. "Go ahead." Janet removed the tube, then rubbed Jack's back as he started to cough. She stepped back as he caught his breath. He looked at her in gratitude. "Thanks Janet" he croaked. "Anytime Jack. Anytime." With that, Janet left the room to arrange transport for Jack. She wanted him in a regular room as soon as possible. Having been delivered to the infirmary, Jack sat propped up by pillows in his bed. The curtains of his cubicle had been left open so he wouldn't feel so isolated. He was unhappy about wearing the oxygen mask, but knowing how important it was to his recovery, he demurred. After Janet had removed the intubation tube, she had given him stern lecture on keeping his mask on, or she had threatened, she would put the tube back. He had argued for a canula if she had to use anything at all, but she wanted to give him a course of ventilin to assist his lungs in their recovery, and the mask was the easiest way she had of giving him the kind of dosage he needed, as well as continuing the flow of oxygen his damaged lungs demanded. Jack kept the argument to a minimum. He was still very tired, despite the amount of sleep he had received over the last few days. Janet had informed him that the fatigue was a result of both the infection and the number of transfusions he had received. It would pass, given time and care. He lay there, watching the comings and goings of the staff. Even with a light patient load, the infirmary was a busy place. He found himself dosing. He heard a slight rustle at his side, and saw a nurse injecting a clear fluid into his IV tubing. In his sleepy state, he absently noted that he didn't recall seeing the nurse before, but realised that he did not know all of the medical personnel. The thought came and went as dizziness overtook him. His vision blurred and he fell into blackness. The nurse looked furtively around to see if anyone was paying attention. His actions appeared to have gone unnoticed. He put the needle in the bright yellow box mounted on the wall, where it fell amidst the other hazardous materials. As it lay there, it was clearly distinguishable from the rest of the contents, as it was the only syringe to still be connected to it's body. The nurse then casually strolled from the room, discarding his white coat in the laundry hamper at the door, leaving him in his fatigues as he entered the hall. He walked right past the guard who had been posted. The guard had arrived after he had, and ignored him as he strolled away. The soldier was watching for anyone entering the room without authorisation, not for someone to exit it. Janet was finally off duty. She couldn't remember ever being so tired. She took a deep relaxing breath and let it out slowly. Wondering if she should go home or stay on base where she could be closer to the colonel, she elected the former. She missed Cassie, and ached to see something other that the sterile walls of the base's infirmary. She consoled herself with making a final check on Jack before she left. She could see something was wrong as she approached. His unconscious face was pasty, and she could see a sheen of sweat on it even at a distance. She quickly bridged the distance and grabbed his wrist to gain a pulse. His hand hung weakly, his pulse racing, and his breathing was far too rapid. "What the hell is going on here?" she yelled aloud. She pushed the alarm over his bed, and watched the duty nurse arrive in a rush. "Get me the colonel's latest test results, and take a new blood series," she barked as she lowered the head of the bed and pulled the pillows from under Jack. The nurse was quick to respond. Janet bit her lip in frustration. She had no idea why Jack was displaying all the symptoms of severe shock. She watched the nurse prepare Jack's arm for the blood work. It appeared as thought the woman was working in slow motion. Janet none to gently took the syringe and moved the nurse aside. As she inserted the needle, she instructed the nurse to inform the general that something was happening. The final vial had just filled when the nurse reported back. Janet handed her the tubes to take to the lab, with the order to put an 'extreme rush' on the results. Janet herself took the needle to the disposal box. As she dropped the pointed tip into the opening, her sleeve caught the valved mouth. When she moved to leave, her sleeve pulled the box open and the contents spilled on the infirmary floor. Janet was just about to walk away to call an orderly, when the sight of the recently discarded syringe caught her eye. She moved carefully amongst the debris, and picked up the syringe. While unable to identify the contents, she noted that some clear substance remained. Given the events of late, she had a sneaking suspicion that it was the source of the colonel's lasted crisis Sam was standing in front of the viewing windows of the briefing room, filling General Hammond, Teal'c and Daniel in on Janet's theory concerning the spores. Teal'c listened carefully. This answered the question of why the theft had occurred, as well as why the team had been fed false information concerning their status. It also confirmed his suspicions they were not yet out of danger. He was interrupted from his course of thought by the jangling of the phone. Hammond, annoyed at the interruption, grabbed it and barked an acknowledgement. His angry expression quickly turned to one of worry as he listened. He did not even provide a dismissal to the voice on the other end as he returned the phone to it's cradle. He looked at the others. "It's Jack. They need us." He did not wait for the inevitable questions, but instead strode purposely out of the room, followed by the others. Hammond barged through the infirmary doors, followed closely by the rest of SG1. Before he had a chance to speak, Janet moved past him to Teal'c. She handed him the needle, and asked him to take it to the lab where he was to wait for the substance to be identified. The Jaffa left immediately. She turned her attention to the three remaining people. "Sorry, General. I think the colonel has been injected with something from that syringe." "Can you treat him?" Hammond was looking over her shoulder to the unconscious form of his number two. "Not until we identify the substance. Until I know what that is, anything I do could just worsen his condition." Janet moved to Jack's side in readiness for action. She was already ticking off possible courses of action. Daniel, Sam and the general just looked at each other. While they had known this was possible, they couldn't believe that the colonel's life was in jeopardy once again. Time seemed to stand still while they waited for the lab results. Every rise and fall of Jack's chest seemed like it would be the last. Minutes seemed like hours. Finally Teal'c returned to them with a note in one hand which he delivered to Janet. She scanned the results and assessed the situation. The substance in the syringe proved to be Insulin. She moved quickly to set up a glucose drip into the subclavian line. She had been thinking about removing it and was grateful that she had elected to leave it in for one more day. She turned to the waiting group. "He's in insulin shock. The sugar should help to reverse the effects shortly." Daniel was quick to pick up on the word 'should'. "What exactly do you mean by that?" Given all they had been through over the last while, Janet was hesitant to heap more on them. She looked at Daniel and his expression begged for honesty, and she realised that she could do nothing less than honour that. "Insulin shock can have multiple consequences, the worst of which is the destruction of brain cells. Given his condition of late, and not knowing how much he was injected with, I'd have to say that is a distinct possibility. We won't know for sure though, until he wakes up." Janet was tiring rapidly of being the bearer of bad news, and hoped for all their sakes that Jack would once again surprise them. "When do you think that might be, Doctor?" The general knew he was being unfair asking her for a timetable, but he needed reassuring as much as the others. "I'm sorry, General. I can't tell you that. There are too many factors involved to judge. It's possible that there may be extensive damage and that he may not wake up at all. All I can do is monitor his condition and let you know." The general cleared his throat before speaking. "Thank you, Doctor. Please do. In the meantime, we have a security violation that needs attending to. SG1, will you please accompany me to the briefing room?" With that, Hammond left, followed by the three friends who all sported looks ranging from grief to revenge. Janet turned back to acknowledge the nurse who had just arrived with Jack's latest results. She let out a slow whistle as she read over the numbers. Whoever the assailant was, he wasn't messing around. The levels of insulin in Jack's blood were disturbingly high. If she hadn't stopped to check on him and treatment hadn't begun when it had, Jack would have been dead within minutes. Now, she was faced with once again watching his recovery. Janet slumped into a nearby chair. As a doctor working for the SGC, she was constantly being challenged with new and different cases. She had dealt with unknown illnesses, viruses and weapon damage, but the crisis situation that she had been living in for the past few days was starting to take it's toll. She began to shiver in reaction. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms about herself and drew in tight. She rested her chin on her knees and began rock back and forth, ever so slowly. The duty nurse had moved to the station to update the colonel's charts. As she looked over at his bed, she spotted Janet. She sighed, knowing that the present reaction, and the earlier irritability she had seen in Janet were all signs of a doctor and friend who had been pushed to her limits. Knowing she could do nothing more, she walked over and drew the curtains around the cubicle, leaving Janet to her thoughts and her privacy. She returned to the desk, and began to focus on the task at hand. Up in the debriefing room, one irate general was pacing back and forth. "How is it possible, that in a secure, military instillation, we seem to be so vulnerable to attack. First it was the theft, then the planted technician, and now a personal attack on the colonel... and no-one seems to know anything." The team sat in silence, knowing the general needed to vent some of his frustration. They all felt the same anger. Jack was not only their superior officer, he was their friend and someone seemed determined to see him eliminated. The general had doubled the guard posted outside of the infirmary immediately upon arriving upstairs. Even that did not provide much measure of relief, given the events of late. The general cooled off quickly, realising how unproductive his behaviour was. He quickly turned back to business. "Teal'c. I want you to review the surveillance tapes taken in the corridor outside the infirmary. See if you can see anything. Look for people you don't recognise, or ones who don't display the correct security identification tags." Teal'c nodded and left the room. Hammond turned to the other two. "I want you to find out who might have access to medical equipment. Unless our perpetrator brought his own drugs and syringes with him, which I think unlikely given our security precautions, he must have got them from here. Check the logs against all personnel who are allowed access. See if there are any discrepancies." Sam and Daniel rose quietly and left the room, and the general. He moved to the viewing window that overlooked the Stargate. As he caught sight of his reflection, his expression hardened and he turned and left for his office. He had a call to make to the President. Jack woke groggily. He looked opened his eyes apprehensively, not sure what sight would greet him. There had been so many strange things happening lately, he didn't trust things to be simple. A look to his right told him that he was still in the infirmary, with the lights on. He gave a little smile. So far so good. That was the last thing he remembered seeing. As he turned to the left though, the sight was considerably different. Janet was curled up in the chair beside him, eyes fixed at a point on the floor. He caught the rhythmic rocking motion that she appeared unaware of. Slowly he sat up and was worried at her lack of response. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and removed the oxygen mask, dropping it on the bed beside him, where it continued to hiss, unused. He sat for a moment, contemplating the woman beside him. He had seen shock before in the field, and it hit him that she was showing all the signs of it. Feelings of guilt overwhelmed him, as he realised that he was the probable cause. He knew that she had taken care of him over these last few difficult days, unmindful of her own needs. Realising that self recriminations would not help, Jack acted. He stood slowly, and waited until the world stopped spinning. He was disgusted at how weak he felt, and how such a simple task as standing could leave him gasping for breath. He began to recover, and lowered himself to his knees, to bring himself level with the doctor. Janet's gaze had not shifted. She was completely non-responsive. Jack reached out and took her hands in his own. He looked down and noted how small those life giving hands appeared to be. He squeezed them gently and called her name. She turned slowly to face him, although her dull eyes did not appear to recognise him. "Janet," he tried again. "It's Jack. Can you hear me?" This time a hint of recognition showed, and it quickly blossomed into full awareness. "Jack?" "Yeah, it's me. Are you okay?" She shook her head and lowered her face from his as a tear came unbidden to her eye. Jack took one of his hands from hers and reached around to pull her into a gentle hug. Gratefully she leaned into his embrace, her body shaking minutely. There they sat, not as colleagues, but as friends. Gradually Janet relaxed. Jack could feel the tension start to leave her. He released her hands and reached for her chin to turn her face back to his. "Feeling better?" A wry smile came to her face. "Aren't I supposed to be asking you that?" "Maybe, but sometimes the doctor needs a little doctoring herself." He flashed her one of his rare, genuine smile, without any trace of sarcasm. He let go of his embrace, and drew her from the chair to a standing position. Without letting go of her hands, he guided her to the bed behind him, and sat her down. He then sat himself beside her. "Want to talk about it?" he asked in a low, quiet voice. "Not really." "Isn't that my line?" he gently quipped. That brought the expected smile. "Really Jack. I think all of this just got to me..." Janet was going to say more when a thought crossed her mind. "Jack, you're awake?" "You sound surprised." Janet realised that he was unaware of his latest crisis. "Someone came in here and injected you with a large dose of Insulin. You went into shock, and almost died. You know, you really have to stop doing that to me." Jack looked at her, surprise on his face. "Do you know who did it?" "No. The general is looking into it now." The doctor in Janet kicked in as she studied Jack, taking note of the exhaustion lining his face, and his shortness of breath. It had also not escaped her notice that he was not using his oxygen mask. He seemed unaware of her scrutiny as a faraway look crossed Jack's face. As he searched his memory, something came to him. "I remember someone coming up to me. He was dressed as a nurse. He injected something into my IV. I didn't give it much thought. Someone's always putting some new medicine in me these days it seems." Janet was taken aback. As sick as Jack was, he never let his training fail him. "Can you describe the man?" Jack continued to search his memories. "Yeah. I don't think I'd seen him before, but I'm sure I'd know him if I saw him now." A thought occurred to him and a glint of a military colonel shone through. "Janet," he turned and looked her in the eyes. "You said he gave me a lethal dose, right?" "Yes...?" "Does anyone know it didn't work besides us?" "Common knowledge is that you are still unconscious, with an extreme possibility of not waking up again." Jack absorbed that sobering fact, then shelved it for later examination. "I have an idea for finding this guy. Are you game?" Janet couldn't help but grin. Seeing Jack back in form, somewhat anyway, was the best medicine she could have prescribed for herself. While she knew she shouldn't encourage him in his weakened state, she also knew that he wouldn't rest once he had set a course of action. "What do you have in mind?" An hour later, Janet was in the conference room, updating a quartet of disbelieving faces. She had left Jack only moments before with strict orders to the duty nurse that he was not to be disturbed. She had also threatened him with a full physical every week by student nurses if he didn't rest and wear his mask while waiting. His meek expression as he dutifully picked up the mask and put it on still caused her to grin when she thought about it. General Hammond looked searchingly at her. "Are you sure about this, Doctor Fraiser? One minute you're telling me the colonel might never wake up, or if he did, he might be brain damaged, and now your telling me he wants to initiate a sting operation?" Teal'c cocked his head quizzically to the side at the general's words. Daniel caught the look and nudged him in the ribs. "I'll tell you later Teal'c," he whispered. Teal'c nodded at the familiar words, then turned his attention back to the conversation at hand. "That's right, General. Apparently, he saw the man who poisoned him. He is hoping that the right bait will bring him back to finish the job." The general thought about it for a moment. While he realised that the plan might work, and that they had had no success as of yet in catching the perpetrator, he was worried for Jack's health. "Is he up to this, Doctor?" "If you want my opinion purely as his physician, I'd have to say no. If you want it as his colleague and his friend, then I'd have to change my answer." Janet looked at Hammond and held him with her gaze. "General, as long as this man is out there, who knows what damage might be done, either to the colonel, or someone else. Even to the base itself. I think the colonel is right, sir. I think we have to try this. Instead of spending our time reacting, let's run this our way. If we are careful, we can minimise the danger to the colonel, and everyone else." Janet couldn't believe what she, of anyone, was suggesting. The general turned and looked out the viewing window before coming to a decision. "All right. We'll run it the colonel's way." He turned to the Jaffa who stood ready. "Teal'c, I want you to get into that infirmary without being seen. Can you do that?" Teal'c had studied the layout of the base well enough to know about the ventilation shaft the ran above the medical wing. "I can general." At the general's nod, Teal'c left the room to ready himself. Hammond turned to Sam and Daniel. "Doctor Jackson, I want you to go and relieve the guards at the infirmary. You have my permission to spread about word that we have a suspect in custody, and that the danger to the colonel is now nullified." Daniel grinned. He knew how fast work spread about this base. For once, he would be the one to start the rumour. The general continued. "Major Carter. I want you to approach Sergeant Tylor. Let him know what's going on. If we are being watched, then we need to have an actual person in the brig." Sam nodded. Sergeant Tylor was a perfect choice. He had joined to military to avoid some petty charges. He had also developed a reputation for trouble-making off base. Hammond had kept him around as he had since proven his worth as a valued member of the SGC. She knew that Tylor would jump at the chance of a little payback. "Doctor Fraiser. Do you think you could arrange for the colonel to be left alone for some reason." Janet nodded in agreement. She had already discussed this with Jack, and they had worked out the scenario prior to her meeting with Hammond. "In the meantime, I think I owe a call to Nellus to tell them about the results of our investigation." Hammond grinned. He thought that he might like this farce after all. Janet checked on Jack behind the privacy of the curtains. The first thing she noticed was the mask, still sitting on his face. For his benefit, she stifled her grin. She pulled the chair beside his bed up close, and whispered in his ear. They had no way of knowing how close the assailant was, and she did not want to be heard. "Everything is in place. Are you ready?" Jack nodded. He was more than ready. Seeing Janet earlier had driven the point home. He had come to realise how much this was effecting everyone, and he was determined to see it to fruition, no matter the cost. Janet left, but not before giving Jack a final warning look. She made sure that the curtain was closed as she exited the cubicle. She glanced about the room quickly, seeking the location of the waiting Jaffa, but could not spot him anywhere. That fact did not surprise her though. Teal'c had done this sort of thing before, and knew his role well. She moved to her office. It wasn't long before Hammond arrived. He left the door slightly ajar as he entered her domain. Both players made sure they spoke in louder than normal voices for the benefit of anyone who might be making an effort to listen. When the assassin heard that Jack was starting to show signs of recovery, he realised that further action needed to be taken. While word had spread that some Lieutenant was in custody for the attempted murder, he realised that O'Neill had seen him. That information meant nothing to a dead man, but was rather useful to a living colonel. He moved out of earshot, unnoticed by either the general or the doctor. He moved to the quarters that he had procured. It had been a great source of amusement to him that such a high security base had proven so easy to infiltrate. Now he set about establishing his plan of attack. He had seen the guards relieved of their task, but he still needed a plausible reason for being near the colonel. It did not take him long to come up with a likely identity. Teal'c tried a light form of meditation to relax the cramped muscles in his legs. He had been crouched in his hiding spot, waiting at the ready, for hours. It had started to cross his mind that the perpetrator might have already left the base undetected, when the infirmary door opened. With all of his senses on the alert, Teal'c sought to identify the man. It was a lab technician, armed with his tray of paraphernalia. The man stopped in front of Jack's cubicle and checked the name on his clipboard with the name on the wall plate. To Teal'c's eye, the man seemed to confirm the name, and he entered the colonel's room. Jack was feigning sleep as the curtain rustled. He was aware of the presence approaching his bed. The rattle of the tray being set on his side table kept him apprised of the unknown person's actions. When he heard faint but unrecognisable sounds, he chanced a peek. He opened his eyes a tiny crack, just enough to get a look at the man he had previously seen. As before, the man was once again injecting a foreign substance into his IV line. While the man concentrated on his task, Jack slowly withdrew his right hand from under his sheet. It emerged, complete with pistol. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Jack's voice was low, but deadly as he levelled the gun at the man's head. The would be assailant dropped the syringe, grabbed the IV pole and knocked it into Jack's face. Jack managed to squeeze the trigger with his right hand, while pushing away the obstacle with his left. The assailant felt the impact of the bullet, but ignored it as he fled the room, only to run full tilt into the waiting Jaffa. Teal'c grabbed the man, swing him around and pinned his arms in place. Once restrained, Teal'c felt the man sag. Jack slowly stood up, and moved to the end of the bed as General Hammond, Janet, Daniel and Sam came running into the room. They had observed the proceedings from a newly placed, hidden camera, and come running when the events had started to unfold. "Is everyone all right?" the general called as he skid to a halt. Janet had already moved past him to Jack's side. She tried to examine him, but he brushed her off and was moving towards Teal'c's hostage. The man hung limp in Teal'c's arms, his face towards to the floor. Jack reached out and lifted the man's chin to expose his face. It became quickly apparent that the unknown man was dead. Jack's shot had caught him in the heart. Had Teal'c not stopped him, he would most likely not have even made it out of the room. Whatever secrets he carried, died with him. Jack groaned in frustration. They had been so close. Now it was unlikely that they would ever find out who had commanded this chain of events, nor would they know if this man worked solo, or had a partner. Janet approached him again. This time he allowed her to lead him back to the bed, which he climbed wearily into. As she righted the fallen pole, she noticed the abandoned syringe on the floor. Horrified, she picked it up and showed it to the watching group before turning her attention back to Jack. "He didn't give you this did he?" She was already ticking off possible treatments in her head as she anxiously waited for his answer. "Actually, he did," came the reply. Janet heard the tone of his voice and looked uncomprehendingly at him. Jack pulled the tape off the back of his hand to expose the unattached needle. He had pulled the IV out as a precaution, feeling he would rather face Janet's wrath, than an assassins. The watching group all smiled their relief. A security detail arrived to relieve Teal'c of his burden, Hammond left to release the Lieutenant from the prison with his thanks. The remaining group gathered around Jack's bed. He gave them all a tired grin. "We have to stop meeting like this you know. People will talk." Seeing that he had worn himself out, they congratulated Jack on a plan well executed, then left his room. Janet checked him over and concluded that the colonel needed nothing more at the moment that a good rest. She pointedly put his oxygen mask back on, as his breathlessness had not escaped her attention. She debated about giving him a sedative, but the tired droop of his eyes told her it wouldn't prove necessary. Instead, she took his gun from where it lay forgotten on the bed, and placed it in the drawer on his bedside table. She rearranged his pillows, and pushed him on to them gently. He fell asleep almost immediately. She gave one last smile as she turned to leave. It didn't take her long to find the rest of the team, as they had taken it upon themselves the provide their own guard to protect the colonel as he slept. The unknown voice answered the phone. He listened intently before answering. "It seems our professional was not up to the task. Very well. He knew nothing that could give us away. I saw to that myself. For now, I want you out of there. We have more important things to deal with. Perhaps we can turn this situation to our advantage. Someone as resourceful as O'Neill might just prove useful to us in the future." With that, he slowly hung up the phone. Three weeks later found SG1 back in the conference room. During Jack's convalescence, full security checks had been conducted. The source of the infiltration had not yet been discovered. The assassin had been identified, and had proven to be a civilian. The assumption was, he had first been hired to kill the Lieutenant, then the colonel. The first hit had followed his MO precisely. How he had come to be in the SGC was also unknown. Few answers had been found, but many disturbing questions had been raised during the investigation. General Hammond, together with O'Neill and the Secretary of Defence, had implemented some changes that they hoped would prevent any future problems. Those changes included having all personnel approved for positions within the SGC by both Jack and the general. Janet had finally cleared Jack for full duty, and they were now being briefed on their next mission. "The MALP has sent through some preliminary data. This appears to be an uninhabited planet. I want you to assess it for potential uses. Jack groaned. "Oh, deja-vu." Daniel grinned at him, as he withdrew something from his pocket. "Here Jack. Janet asked me to give you these." Jack took the small bottle curiously. He couldn't help but grin when he read the label. She had sent him some of Daniel's antihistamines, and on the label had written a prescription: To be taken for MY good health.. Miles away in another base, a team in Haz-mat suits gathered around a batch of newly bloomed orchids that had sprung up from the seat of a leather chair. ~ End ~ © June 18, 2000 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author. Author's Notes: I debated for some time about posting this one. I felt it was flawed, but couldn't figure out how or what to do to fix it. I figured if you came up with the reason, you'd let me know G. I have no problem with updating it, but it was starting to cloud my thinking. I hope you enjoy it. Let me know if you do. My confidence took a real nose-dive during the writing of this. Hopefully the next effort (in progress) is okay. Many thanks to Chrisbod. There is a really bad pun in this dedicated to you with my thanks. Your Back
10313555	Super Extra Sweet Love	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Cha Hakyeon \| N, Kim Minseok \| Xiumin, Kim Heechul, Kim Ryeowook", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "2/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-15T00:00:00", "words": "4,720", "Additional Tags": "Vampires, vampires and hunters, Random - Freeform, Random Scenes from Sweet Love AU, I don't know, Gay, m/m - Freeform, Gay Sex, HakWook?, HeechSeok?, HakChul?, Plz help me., Fighting, Violence, Kind of Abuse?", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Cha Hakyeon \| N/Kim Heechul, Cha Hakyeon \| N/Kim Ryeowook, Kim Heechul/Kim Minseok \| Xiumin", "Series": "Sweet Love AU", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "EXO (Band), Super Junior, VIXX", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“Hakyeon?”He looked up quickly, eyes finding Ryeowook in the doorway. His eyes were wide, and he had been crying. Hakyeon could spot the tiniest tremble in Ryeowook’s fingertips, as he motioned the younger forward. “Good evening, little one.” Ryeowook nodded his acknowledgement of the greeting, fingers playing absently with the hem of his shirt. “Is something wrong?” Of course something was wrong, there was always something wrong, and Hakyeon was almost certain that he knew what it was, but he was going to ask anyway, was going to make Ryeowook say it.“I…” He hesitated, bit down on his lower lip. After a moment, he retreated back to the door, and pushed it shut, before returning to Hakyeon. His maker’s eyes narrowed, and he motioned Ryeowook closer. He circled around the desk, to stand beside Hakyeon, still trembling. Ryeowook inhaled, swallowed the lump in his throat, before he spoke. “Does he hate me?” Hakyeon didn’t immediately answer, and Ryeowook spoke again. “I don’t want him to hate me. He’s my brother, and I love him, but he won’t talk to me, and he’s always with Minseok.” Hakyeon took one of Ryeowook’s hands in his own, traced his fingers over his skin. “I love him so much, but he never even says hi to me anymore.” Ryeowook paused, swallowing his tears. “He hates me.”Hakyeon got to his feet, released Ryeowook’s hand in favor of sliding his fingers underneath Ryeowook’s jaw, tilting his head backwards. Their eyes might, and Ryeowook whined quietly. “Breathe, little one.” Ryeowook inhaled, lower lip trembling. “When was the last time you fed?” Ryeowook shrugged, tried to press closer to Hakyeon. “Heechul took you into town, a few weeks ago, yes?” Ryeowook’s nostrils flared, and he nodded quickly. “Mm, it’s been too long.” Hakyeon took Ryeowook’s hand, led him towards the window. “Come on, little one, let’s go.” He pushed the window open, and they slipped out, landed on the ground. “Pick a feeder house.”“Joy’s.”Hakyeon smiled, and within seconds, they had arrived. They stepped inside, where a young brunette woman was waiting at a desk. When she spotted them, she smiled, rose to her feet. “She’s waiting for you.” She led them down a hallway, and into a room, where another woman was waiting.“Hakyeon, my darling.” The woman came forward, pressed a kiss to Hakyeon’s cheek. “And Ryeowook, sweetie, welcome back.” She reached out to take Ryeowook’s hand, and then pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I was wondering when you’d come back to see me.” Ryeowook smiled softly, pressed closer to Hakyeon. “How’re the other babies?”Hakyeon smiled, tight and forced. “They’re fine. Ryeowook needs to feed.” And I’d like to get out of here, thank you. Joy nodded, and Ryeowook stepped away from Hakyeon, pulled free from his grip. “Be careful, Ryeowook.” The vampire laughed quietly, pulled Joy into a hug. He nosed along her jaw, mouthed gently at her neck, before he bit down. She stiffened, and then went limp in his grip. When he pulled back, he lowered her into a chair, and reached past her for a bandage, to cover the wound. “We need to go home.” Ryeowook nodded slowly, as he straightened, turned to Hakyeon, eyes red. He followed his maker out of the building, and in moments, they were back in Hakyeon’s office. “Go entertain yourself. I’ll see you at dawn.” * Almost as soon as the sun had vanished, Hakyeon had an arm around Ryeowook’s waist, his mouth pressed against his child’s neck. He yanked Ryeowook backwards, pushed him against a wall, fangs sliding through his skin. Ryeowook hummed quietly, fingers fisting in Hakyeon’s shirt. “Please, please-”Hakyeon put a hand over his mouth, silenced him as he pulled backwards. “Hush. You don’t need to talk.” Ryeowook whined quietly, straining against his grip. “Stay still, little one, or I’ll go back to my own room, and leave you here, alone.” Ryeowook whimpered out a quiet apology, and Hakyeon released him for a moment. “Bed, go.” Ryeowook obeyed quickly, scampered over to his bed, Hakyeon following behind him, a ribbon in his hand that Ryeowook hadn’t noticed before. Hakyeon smiled, and, with a gentle hand on Ryeowook’s hip, turned him around onto his stomach. “Give me your hands.” Ryeowook obeyed, and Hakyeon had his wrists bound together in seconds. “If you break them, little one, I’ll hurt you.”“I’ll be good.”“I know.” Hakyeon mouthed his way down Ryeowook’s spine, and dragged his teeth over the swell of his ass. “Hold still, princess, and I’ll make it feel good.” Ryeowook hummed quietly, and Hakyeon pulled his pants down, gently, fingers dragging over Ryeowook’s skin. “Don’t forget to breathe.” Ryeowook nodded quickly, a soft whine leaving his lips when Hakyeon pressed a finger into his hole.“Please, please-”“Shush, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you, I always do, don’t I? I’ve always taken care of you, ever since you turned, remember?” Ryeowook whined, as Hakyeon slipped another finger in, stretching Ryeowook open. “Oh, you’re always so good for me, aren’t you? Such a perfect little princess.” Ryeowook whimpered, pressed his face into the bed. “I’ll always take care of my precious, perfect, princess.”Ryeowook squealed quietly when Hakyeon dragged his fingernails down the back of his thigh, leaving red lines in their wake that healed quickly. “Ow, please, wanna-”“Oh, my sweet darling, are you breaking already?”“No, no, ‘m not.”Hakyeon pressed a kiss to Ryeowook’s hip, before adding a third finger. A whine slipped through Ryeowook’s lips, and he clamped his jaw shut. “Oh, sweet princess, are you embarrassed?” Ryeowook shook his head quickly, fighting not to strain too much against the ribbon holding his arms in place. “Oh, darling.” His fangs broke skin, and that was when Ryeowook started to cry, hands clenching into fists. “How do you want this, princess?”“Want you, inside. So bad.” Ryeowook panted out the answer, tears in his eyes, and he squirmed when Hakyeon withdrew his fingers, whimpering at the loss. “Please.” Slowly, Hakyeon climbed up onto the bed, pulled Ryeowook into his lap. “Wanna…I wanna come, so bad, please.”“And you will, but not until I say, alright?” Ryeowook nodded quickly, as Hakyeon mouthed at his collarbone, neck, shoulder, biting down gently, with no fangs. “Is my sweet princess going to ride me?” Ryeowook nodded again, quite enthusiastic at the idea. “Go on, sweetheart.” Ryeowook rose up on his knees, fighting to keep his balance with his hands tied, and Hakyeon took advantage of his momentary distraction to bite down on his shoulder, hard enough to draw blood, to mark, but still without fangs. “You’re so good, pretty princess.”After a moment, Ryeowook sat back down onto Hakyeon’s cock, whimpering as it stretched and burned. Hakyeon reached up, put a hand on his face, stroking gently. “Breathe, sweetheart.” Ryeowook nodded quickly, took a deep breath, before he continued to move. “Are you going to come for me, princess?” Ryeowook nodded quickly, whining quietly. “Question?”“Untie me, please, wanna touch-”“Oh, no, sweetheart, you haven’t earned that yet.” Hakyeon threaded his fingers in Ryeowook’s hair, and yanked him down, to press his face into Hakyeon’s neck. “I’ll let you feed, though, princess, since you’ve been so good.” Ryeowook whined out his thanks, sank his fangs into Hakyeon’s neck, drawing blood. “Oh, you’re so good for me.” Ryeowook made a quiet noise, sucked harder for a split second before he pulled off. “Now, princess, show me what you can do.” Ryeowook started to move, soft whimpers leaving his lips.“Please, please, Hakyeon, untie me, please-” After a moment, Hakyeon reached past him, tugged open the knot on the ribbon. Ryeowook was clinging almost instantly, nosing at Hakyeon’s hair, hands roaming over his body. “Please, can I-”“Go on, princess, come for me.”Ryeowook let out a soft scream, as he arched backwards. After a second, Hakyeon sat up quickly, sank his fangs into Ryeowook’s exposed throat. He squealed, hands clamping down on Hakyeon’s upper arms, fingernails breaking skin and drawing blood. “Please, Hakyeon, can you-” Hakyeon growled, low in his ear, as he came, biting harder at Ryeowook’s neck. “A-ah, please, I-”“Oh, princess, you want me to bleed you?” Ryeowook nodded quickly, still presenting his throat. Hakyeon bit down again, and Ryeowook whined quietly, as he waited patiently for the venom to work its way through his body.“It’s slower, in vampires.” Hakyeon snickered. Ryeowook tended to get a little loopy, when the venom got to his head. “I remember, when I was human, you know, when Heechul would get me drugged up on the venom, how quick it was. It took seconds.” Hakyeon laughed again, still drinking. “I mean, your venom is stronger, than his, but still…takes a minute, at least.” His eyelids were getting heavy, grip on Hakyeon loosening. “I love the venom. So good.” A few more seconds, and Ryeowook went limp, head resting against Hakyeon’s shoulder. “Don’t leave me.” A second longer, and Hakyeon felt Ryeowook slip into unconsciousness. He released his child’s neck, pulled backwards, and lowered Ryeowook to the bed. * “Ryeowook needs to hunt soon.”“Mm, no, he doesn’t.” Hakyeon didn’t so much as look when he heard Heechul speak. “You know why, Heechul?” No response, from the younger vampire. “Because while you’ve been busy playing spoiled brat with Minseok, I’ve not only been running my entire kingdom, I’ve also been taking care of the kid that you wanted to be a vampire, I’ve been training him, I’ve been keeping him occupied so that he doesn’t hurt you, all so you can fuck your little bitch at all hours of the day.” Heechul snorted, incredulous. “You realize, I hope, that if I hadn’t stepped in, he would have lost it, would have gone on a bender, like you promised him that he wouldn’t, and you probably would have taken days to notice.” Heechul rolled his eyes, before Hakyeon continued. “Oh, no, that isn’t the correct response. No, you say Thank you, Heechul for taking care of the bitch that I’ve gotten tired of, even though he’s perfectly good in bed, and more than capable of sucking a dick. You do not roll your eyes at me, you ungrateful little whore.” Heechul opened his mouth to argue, but Hakyeon cut him off. “Get out. Come back when you’re ready to take responsibility for your own little playthings. Until then, I don’t want to see your face.”Heechul spun on his heel quickly, and swept out of the room, accidentally-on-purpose knocking Ryeowook into the door frame as he left. “Stupid cunt.” Heechul growled over his shoulder, but didn’t turn to respond to his maker. “Ryeowook, come in.” His child slipped into the room, closed the door behind him quickly, and practically bounded over to Hakyeon’s side. When Hakyeon turned, Ryeowook crawled into his lap, and flashed his fangs. “Oh, princess, wanna feed?” Ryeowook nodded quickly, and Hakyeon smiled at him, tipped his head backwards. Ryeowook leaned forward, sank his fangs into Hakyeon’s neck. “Good boy. You’re so good for me.” When Ryeowook pulled back, Hakyeon reached up to wipe blood off of Ryeowook’s face. “All good?”“Yeah.” Ryeowook pressed his face into Hakyeon’s hair, and inhaled deeply. “Mm. You smell good.” Hakyeon chuckled. “Will you-”“You want me to scent you?” Ryeowook nodded quickly, nuzzled at Hakyeon’s face. “You think you deserve it? You think you’ve earned it?” Ryeowook whined quietly, nosed at Hakyeon’s ear. “I don’t know, princess. I don’t think you do, not yet.” Ryeowook shook his head, eyes wide with his plea. “Oh, now, don’t look at me like that. If you’re going to play the brat, you can go back to your own room, and you can wait until I see you in the morning.” Ryeowook whined again, hands sliding down Hakyeon’s arms. “Silly little baby vampire.”“I’m not a baby!” Ryeowook was pouting, now, and in a moment, Hakyeon grabbed his lower lip, and tugged.“Oh, I’m sorry, does that hurt?” Ryeowook whimpered, trying to squirm without tugging on his lip. “Stay still. Don’t you dare move.” A soft whine left Ryeowook’s lips, and Hakyeon’s grip tightened, fingernail biting into the inside of his mouth. “I’m getting tired of you acting like a brat all of the time, princess.”“’m not, Hakyeon-”“Shut your mouth.” Ryeowook did, so much as he could with Hakyeon’s fingers on his lip. “Perhaps you need a reminder of what I expect from my children. I am your maker, I created you, I am the reason you are here right now. I expect that you respect me. I expect that you treat me the way I have treated you. I expect that you obey, when I give you an order, and I expect that you yield when I decide to intervene in something that concerns myself, and my children.”“I’m sorry.” After a moment, Hakyeon released his lip, and Ryeowook whined, mouthed at Hakyeon’s cheek. “I’m sorry, I was…it was stupid.” Hakyeon gently pushed Ryeowook to his feet, pressed a kiss to each of his palms.“Go occupy yourself, princess. I’ll see you at dawn.” * Hakyeon found Ryeowook curled up in the corner of his bedroom, sniffling quietly, face damp with tears, hands pressed against his face in an attempt to hide it when he heard Hakyeon enter the room. Based on what Hakyeon had smelled just outside of the room, he had a pretty good guess as to why the child was crying. He came forward, came to a halt in front of Ryeowook, and gazed at him for a moment, before he crouched down beside his child. “Sweet, darling Ryeowook. What’s wrong?” Ryeowook hissed quietly, buried his face in his arms. “Oh, princess, come here.” After a moment of hesitation, Ryeowook obeyed, crawled into Hakyeon’s lap. “What’s wrong?”“I…it’s…” He burst into tears, buried his face in Hakyeon’s shoulder. Hakyeon sighed quietly, slid an arm around Ryeowook’s waist. “I’m sorry-”“It’s Heechul?” Ryeowook nodded quickly, clinging to Hakyeon’s shirt. “I thought I smelled something fishy in the hallway.” Ryeowook laughed quietly, still crying. “Oh, princess, why are you so worried about him? Why does he matter so much to you?” Ryeowook didn’t answer, as Hakyeon pulled him to his feet. “Come on, sweet princess, let’s get your mind off of him.” He guided Ryeowook towards the bed, mouthing at his neck gently. “You want me to bleed you, pretty boy?”“Please, Hakyeon, want it so b-bad-” After a moment, Hakyeon bit down, as he lowered Ryeowook to the bed, venom working its way into the younger’s bloodstream. “A-ah, Hakyeon, please-” Hakyeon bit down again, on the other side, opening up another wound. Ryeowook was starting to feel it, now, as it worked through his veins, every limb heavy, head fuzzy, vision blurry as he clung to Hakyeon. “Please don’t leave me.”Almost as soon as Ryeowook fell unconscious, his hands released Hakyeon, and the elder vampire straightened, walked towards the door. He could hear Heechul outside of it, waiting for him. He shut the door tightly behind him, before turning to face his child. “Is there something wrong, Heechul?”“You’re spending an awful lot of time with Ryeowook.”“Well, he is my child. Is there a reason I shouldn’t spend time with my children?”Heechul took a deep breath, stepped closer to Hakyeon, hands on his shoulders. “You don’t ever have time for me anymore.” Because you’re always with Minseok, silly princess. “No, I know what you’re doing. You’re making Ryeowook like me, you’re trying to make him mean and hateful and heartless.” Hakyeon shrugged. So what if I am? “He’s not like me, Hakyeon. He won’t bend like you want him to. He’s soft.” Heechul paused. “I won’t let you hurt him like that. There’s no going back for me, I know that, but I’d like to think I can save him from this. I won’t let you do this.”“Are you…” Hakyeon paused. “Are you protecting him? Wow, that’s rich, coming from you. You haven’t looked him in the eye in months, since you started banging Minseok.” In seconds, Hakyeon had Heechul pinned to the wall, lips against his ear. “If you want my attention, sweet thing, give me a reason to watch you.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “This is Jongin.”Jongin’s head whipped up when he heard someone – after a moment, he recognized it as Hakyeon’s voice – say his name, and he pressed backwards, trying to melt into the wall. He heard a quiet sigh, and then Hakyeon – followed by two others – came into view. His hands clenched into fists, and his nails bit into his palms, drawing blood. That seemed to catch Hakyeon’s attention, and he sighed again, as he came forward, stopping ten feet away from where Jongin was seated on the floor, pressed back against the wall. “He’s new.” In the back of his mind – the part that wasn’t focused on the fact that he could smell blood, and not just his, but human blood – he recognized that one of the newcomers was a hunter. Human.“When was the last time he fed?”“Three days ago.” The unknown vampire raised an eyebrow. “He was turned about two weeks ago. He’s…stubborn.”“I’ll say.” The hunter gazed down at Jongin for a long moment before he spoke again, eyes never leaving his face. “Let me speak to him, alone.” Hakyeon looked hesitant to concede. “Hakyeon, if I can handle Jungkook, I can handle this kid. Give me ten minutes.” A moment later, and Hakyeon nodded. He reached out, took the other vampire’s arm, and guided him out of the room. When the door shut, the hunter turned to Jongin. “Jongin, is it?” He hesitated, before he nodded slowly, eyes wary. “My name is Namjoon.” Jongin hissed quietly when the hunter shifted closer. “You were a hunter.” Jongin nodded, throat constricting, dry and painful. He was trying hard not to breathe through his nose, trying not to breathe at all. “Breathe, darling. Breathe for me.”Jongin couldn’t help but obey. A split second later, he regretted it, as fire burned through his throat, and he whined softly. “No-” He cut off with a quiet whimper, as the scent of Namjoon’s blood, human blood, five feet away now, swept over him. “I don’t wanna-”In that moment of distraction, Namjoon moved, grabbed Jongin’s wrists, pinned them to the wall, trapped his hips against the floor with his own body. Jongin growled, struggled, the fire only growing hotter as Namjoon’s scent pressed closer, tighter, suffocating him. “Shh, hush, you’re alright. Just breathe for me, darling.” Jongin obeyed, hesitantly, still whining and growling. But he realized, after a few moments, that it got easier, though not by much, to breathe with Namjoon this close. “Good boy.” Jongin shuddered, squirmed. “You need to feed.” Jongin shook his head quickly, tried to pull out of Namjoon’s grip, but he was weak, having not fed for the past three days. “Open your mouth, and show me your fangs.” When Jongin didn’t obey, Namjoon shifted his wrists into one hand, and used his free hand to grab Jongin’s jaw, forcing his mouth open. “Oh, you can’t even put them away, you’re so hungry.” After a moment, Namjoon leaned forward, exposing his neck, and guided Jongin towards him.“No-” But before he could try and pull back, his mouth was on Namjoon’s neck, and he had broken skin with his fangs, drawing blood. He stayed there for a long time, feeding, fangs digging deep into Namjoon’s skin, before the hunter grabbed his jaw again, forced his mouth open far enough that he could push Jongin backwards, and press him against the wall. “But-”“Hush.” Jongin snapped his mouth shut, swallowing a whine. “You’re hurting so badly, little one. You won’t feed, because you don’t want this, but it hurts you, when you don’t.” Namjoon stroked absently at his face, ignoring Jongin’s squirming. “No one here wants you to hurt. They do love you, you know.”“Fuck you.” Jongin sounded absolutely miserable, even to his own ears. “Fuck you.” He burst into tears, and Namjoon hummed quietly, pulled Jongin into his lap. “Don’t touch me.” Namjoon ignored him, and Jongin squirmed harder, until Namjoon’s nails bit into Jongin’s skin, drew blood, freezing the vampire in place. “Let me go.”“Seokjin.” The vampire was at his side in seconds, hands on his shoulders. “He’s just a child, and he needs help.” The vampire nodded, dropped to his knees, and reached around Namjoon to touch Jongin’s face, gently. Jongin twisted, teeth snapping together mere millimeters from Seokin’s hand, a low growl in his throat. Seokjin clicked his tongue quietly, and pulled Namjoon’s hands off of Jongin. The vampire tried to run immediately, and Namjoon made to follow, but Seokjin stopped him.“Hakyeon, leave him to me.” Seokjin got to his feet, followed Jongin’s scent trail out of the room, where Hakyeon and Heechul were waiting. “Namjoon, I need a word with you later.” The hunter nodded, as Seokjin continued down the hallway, ignoring the shock painted on Joonmyun and Ryeowook’s faces when he made his way past them. It took longer than he expected, but when he found Jongin, the kid was crying, pressed into a tight corner in the library. When he caught sight of Seokjin, he scowled, avoiding the elder’s gaze. “Let me guess.” He sniffled quietly when he heard Seokjin speak. “Hakyeon can’t even get you to feed on a human, and the only way he can get you to feed on him is if he compels you into it. You only feed if you have absolutely no control over the situation.” Jongin didn’t respond. “You think you’ll save more humans if you do that, but you’re wrong. If you lose control over something like that, Jongin, you’ll kill people. More people than you could ever imagine.” Jongin whined quietly. “Trust me when I say that Hakyeon won’t let you kill anyone, when it comes to feeding. You think Heechul’s ever killed anyone for food? Or Ryeowook? The same goes for Minseok and Joonmyun.” Jongin hissed at him. “I’m inclined to believe that I know him best, Jongin. I am his maker, after all.” Jongin froze in place, looked up quickly at Seokjin. “Oh, has he not told you?” Jongin only just then realized that Seokjin had knelt down, and moved closer.He stiffened, realizing too late that he had cornered himself, that his gaze had locked on Seokjin’s, and that he couldn’t quite bring himself to look away. “I…are you…” he swallowed a sob, as he gazed at the vampire in front of him. “Are you going to compel me?”Seokjin cocked his head to the side in thought. “That depends, sweet boy.” Jongin hissed quietly at the nickname, upper lip curling back enough that Seokjin could see the tips of his fangs. “If you feed like a good little newborn, I won’t. But if you fight me, I’ll have no other choice.” Jongin shook his head quickly. “Here’s the thing, sweet boy. I’m about three times older than Hakyeon, at this point, which means I’m more powerful than him. You can’t break his compulsion until he leaves you alone, and I can almost guarantee, little newborn, that you wouldn’t be able to break mine, ever.” Jongin pressed backwards, trying to escape, and whined softly when he remembered that he couldn’t. “So, I recommend, sweet boy, that you feed when I tell you to.”Seokjin got to his feet, and stepped backwards, held out a hand to Jongin. After a moment, Jongin reached out and took it, allowed the older vampire to help him to his feet. Seokjin’s hand was soft, his grip gentle, as he led Jongin out of the library, and towards the front door. “But I don’t want to hurt anyone.”“Shh, sweet boy, hush. That’s why we have venom, so that it doesn’t hurt them. Didn’t Hakyeon ever tell you that?” Jongin shook his head quickly, his free hand resting hesitantly on Seokjin’s shoulder. “Never? Oh, oh, you poor, sweet boy, no wonder you refuse to feed, you think you’ll be hurting the poor humans, oh, sweetheart.” Jongin was crying again, and Seokjin stopped, backed him into a wall, wiping tears away gently. “Breathe, sweet boy, you’re alright.” Jongin was clinging, now, to Seokjin’s jacket, whining quietly. “I’ll make sure you don’t hurt anyone, sweet boy. I’ll take good care of you.”“They always cry, when he brings them home. I can hear them, whenever he and Heechul and the others feed together. Always crying.” Jongin held tightly to the elder vampire, a soft whine in the back of his throat. “And he tries to get me to feed on them too, while they’re crying, but I don’t want to, I don’t want to hurt anyone, and if they cry, that means they’re hurting, I don’t want them to hurt, please, I don’t want t-to hurt anyone, don’t make me hurt anyone, I don’t wanna-”Seokjin stroked a gentle hand down Jongin’s face, silencing him. “Oh, sweet boy. It doesn’t have to hurt them.” Jongin was shaking, clinging, and in his mind, Seokjin could feel his pain, his fear, stronger than Jongin would ever let on verbally. “They don’t have to hurt, I promise. We don’t have to hurt them, you have my word.” Jongin mumbled something under his breath, quiet enough that Seokjin couldn’t hear. “Say again, sweet boy?”Jongin took a deep breath, looked Seokjin in the eyes. “I can feel it, in their minds. It hurts them- ” and I don’t want them to hurt, I don’t want them to hurt because of me, I’m a hunter, I’m supposed to protect them, I’m not supposed to hurt them-Seokjin slid both hands underneath Jongin’s jaw, silencing the younger vampire instantly. “Breathe.” Jongin obeyed, going pliant in Seokjin’s gentle grip. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt them, for you. I promise.” Jongin whined quietly, still clinging. “I’ll make sure you get through this, alright? I’ll take care of you, sweet boy.” After a moment, Jongin nodded, rubbed tears off of his face. “Ready? Let me show you how to hunt.” * Seokjin had a gentle hand on Jongin’s back from the second they jumped out the window. He guided him gently towards the city, and they found themselves standing on a roof. Jongin went perfectly still when he smelled human blood, clung tightly to Seokjin’s arm. “Darling, breathe for me.” Jongin whined quietly. “Good, good. You smell them? Point me to them.” After a moment, Jongin raised a shaking hand, pointed towards the North of the city. “Good. Let’s go, sweet boy.” Seconds later, they were standing on another roof, much closer to the source of the blood. “There’s just one. Let’s go.” Jongin whined quietly, but Seokjin shushed him softly, pressed a kiss to his forehead. For a few seconds, they just stayed there, Jongin trembling in Seokjin’s grip, and then they moved, found themselves on the street only a few feet from the human.“Are you sure-”Seokjin nodded, eyes locked on the human. “Come.” He motioned Jongin forward as he moved, and in a few moments, they found themselves near the human. He startled, tried to run, but Seokjin stopped him, moved to stand right in his way. “Look at me.” His voice was just as gentle as the voice he had used on Jongin. The human obeyed, trembling. “Breathe. Relax. I won’t hurt you.” Jongin looked away quickly; he could feel the compulsion in Seokjin’s voice as it slid over the human, thick and smooth and dangerous. “I’m going to touch you.” The human nodded slowly, as Seokjin’s hand slid through his hair, pulled his head backwards, exposing his neck. Jongin swallowed hard, a soft whine in his throat. “It won’t hurt. You don’t need to make any noise.” Carefully, Seokjin bit down, fangs sliding through the human’s skin. With his free hand, he motioned Jongin forward, and then pulled back. “Go on, sweet boy.” After a moment, Jongin nodded, leaned over to bite into the human’s neck, fangs sliding into the wounds that Seokjin had made. “Go on, sweet boy, feed for me. You’re doing just fine, I’m so proud of you, good boy.”
10331039	Un amor infernal	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Hoozuki (Hoozuki no Reitetsu), Medicine Seller (Mononoke), Enma (Hoozuki no Reitetsu), Hakutaku (Hoozuki no Reitetsu), Shiro (Hoozuki no Reitetsu), Momotarou (Hoozuki no Reitetsu)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "Español", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by SoySierra", "chapters": "5/5", "completed": "2017-03-21", "published": "2017-03-16T00:00:00", "words": "4,984", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Hoozuki (Hoozuki no Reitetsu)/Medicine Seller (Mononoke)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Un amor infernal", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "モノノ怪 \| Mononoke (Anime & Manga), 鬼灯の冷徹 \| Hoozuki no Reitetsu", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Disclaimer: Nada de los universos de “Hoozuki no reitetsu” ni de “Mononoke” me pertenece. No gano dinero con esto. “¿Estás seguro de esto?” Preguntó por tercera vez, un preocupado Rurio mientras caminaban en dirección hacia donde residía el mejor subordinado del rey Enma. “Claro! El rey Enma-sama dijo que no habría problema” Respondió de inmediato Shiro. Aunque internamente también le preocupaba tener que despertar al demonio luego de tres días de intenso trabajo. Sus compañeros lo miraron como si se tratara de un condenado en dirección a su ejecución. Shiro les devolvió la mirada aparentando una confianza que no sentía. Entendía la preocupación de sus amigos. Hoozuki había demostrado tener un carácter intenso y algo sádico. Si bien no parecía un ser malévolo, era evidente que nadie podía meterse con él. Shiro suspiró apesadumbrado. Había querido darles un durazno mágico como regalo de bodas a la felíz pareja que estaba por casarse, sin embargo no había caído en la cuenta de que necesitaría la colaboración del demonio para ello. Algún día, sus buenas intenciones acabarían por matarlo (otra vez).. La residencia de Hoozuki era un lugar pequeño y ordenado. Si bien estaba repleto de objetos, todo parecía tener una ubicación específica haciendo que la presencia de los tres animales resultara extraña y fuera de lugar. Al entrar en el dormitorio, rápidamente pudieron divisar la figura del Oni. Con sus cabellos revueltos y una expresión de preocupación en el rostro, casi no parecía el Hoozuki de siempre. Shiro se sintió mal por tener que despertarlo. Era claro que el demonio necesitaba esas horas de sueño. Sin embargo, no habían llegado hasta ahí por nada. Ante la expectante mirada de sus compañeros, armándose de valor, se acercó al durmiente y apoyó una de sus blancas patitas en su cara. La reacción fué instantánea y terrible. La expresión de ultratumba de Hoozuki lo decía todo. Los tres animales estaban tan aterrorizados con la posibilidad de perder su vida, que dejaron pasar el hecho de que los cabellos rubios que se asomaban detrás de la figura del demonio eran señal de que estaba claramente acompañado. Cuando por fín recobraron la compostura y cayeron en la cuenta de esto, los tres sintieron que la sangre se agolpaba en sus mejillas. “Hoozuki con una chica???” Aunque en el poco tiempo que lo conocían el Oni jamás había mostrado interés en una chica, era evidente que también tenía sus necesidades y una vida privada. Shiro no podía sentirse más inoportuno, así que en una rápida muestra de su capacidad verborrágica se deshizo en perdones, explicaciones sobre el motivo para despertarlo, anhelos y deseos de por qué no deseaba morir (otra vez) y más perdones, los cuales eran coreados por sus compañeros. En todo esto estaban, cuando Shiro percibió movimiento detrás de Hoozuki. “Oh no!..la hemos despertado!” Grande fué la sorpresa de los tres, cuando notaron que el largo cabello, la extraña pintura en el rostro y las delicadas facciones no pertenecían a una mujer sino a un hombre. El jóven apartó con una mano el cabello que interrumpía su visión. La escena frente a él pareció detenerse al tiempo que su mirada hacía un recorrido por la habitación. Se posó primero en el mono que colgaba boquiabierto de un estante, luego en el faisán a su izquierda quien ostentaba una expresíón similar, pasó por el pequeño perro blanco quien parecía al borde de un ataque de nervios y se detuvo en el sujeto con quien compartía el lecho quien, a juzgar por su aspecto, tenía todos los indicios de ser un demonio a punto de hacer una ejecución. “Oh..?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Shiro agradecía internamente que no estuvieran desnudos. Eso, pensó, le habría agregado un componente más a la ya bochornosa situación. Los tres habían decidido esperar al Oni afuera de la habitación para darles algo de privacidad. “Quién crées que sea..?” Preguntó en voz baja Kakisuke, dirigiendo su mirada a la habitación de Hoozuki. “No lo sé..y la vida privada de Hoozuki-sama tampoco es de nuestra incumbencia” Respondió un sonrojado Rurio. “Agradece que salgamos vivos después de esto” La puerta de la habitación del demonio se abrió en ese instante cortando los cuchicheos de los animales. Los tres se pusieron firmes esperando la reprimenda. Hoozuki suspiró pesadamente. “No voy a lastimar a ningún animal..así que si pueden decirme que hacen aquí, sería de gran ayuda” Aclaró el Oni, percibiendo la tensión en el ambiente. En ese momento Shiro decidió hacer gala de su valentía y volvió a repetir su motivo para despertarlo. El demonio se llevó una mano a la frente en señal de cansancio. “Bien..conozco a alguien que los cultiva. Supongo que no habrá mas remedio que visitarlo, déjenme enlistarme y..” “¿Puedo ir también? Sería interesante conocer los alrededores..” Las cuatro miradas se posaron en el acompañante de Hoozuki. El demonio no parecía muy convencido. Finalmente pareció llegar a algún tipo de acuerdo interno y asintó con la cabeza. “Que más da..” Dijo mientras se dirigía al cuarto de baño. “Ah..Hoozuki-sama puedo preguntar ¿Quién es él?” Preguntó Kakisuke ante la estupefacta mirada de sus compañeros. Que atrevido. “Oh si, había olvidado presentarlos él es....” Hoozuki dudó unos instantes. El mono percibió la incomodidad de su superior y maldijo a su curiosidad por atreverse a preguntar. “Es un vendedor de medicinas, lo traje conmigo de mi último viaje a Japón” Respondió finalmente y con eso se encerró en el cuarto de baño. ---------- Pocos instantes después el extraño grupo compuesto por tres animales, un demonio y un vendedor de medicinas llegaban al sector del cielo en donde se cultivaban los famosos duraznos. Durante el trayecto Shiro no había podido evitar preguntarse sobre las palabras de Hoozuki. ¿Por qué había dudado tanto en dar cuenta de su identidad? Vendedor de medicinas, “Kusuriuri”, era un termino muy general para describir a alguien ¿Y su nombre?.¿Un vendedor de medicinas traído de Japón?¿Quería decír eso que pertenecía al mundo de los vivos? Acaso... La expresión de Shiro cambió a una de horror. Claro, debía tratarse de eso. Lo ha secuestrado. Había escuchado de demonios que raptaban a sus humanos “favoritos” y los llevaban al infierno para hacerles..cosas. Pero nunca se hubiera imaginado que Hoozuki-Sama... “No te alejes!” Indicó secamente el demonio a su acompañante. “No, Hoozuki-sama” respondió tranquilamente el vendedor de medicinas. Shiro sintió pena por el pobre muchacho. Quién sabía a qué tipo de sádicas cosas había sido sometido. --------- El encuentro con Momotaro supuso un alivio a sus contrariados pensamientos. “Rurio, Kakisuke, Shiro!” Que alegría!” Momotaro irradiaba felicidad al verlos. Estaba en proceso de darles el durazno que había iniciado toda aquella situación, cuando fué súbitamente interrumpido por la figura de un hombre que fué a estrellarse a sus pies. Todos parecían confundidos excepto Hoozuki y el mismo Momotaro. “Este es Hakutaku, una bestia sagrada china, vende medicinas en el Shangri-La y usualmente es golpeado por las mujeres de la zona..”Explicó con perversa diversión Hoozuki. “¡Tu! ¿¡Qué diablos estas haciendo aquí!?'” Hakutaku parecía enfermo de solo ver al Oni. Momotaro se adelantó para explicarle a su superior el motivo de la visita de Shiro y sus amigos. Cuando todo estuvo aclarado, Hakutaku fijó su mirada en el extraño sujeto parado al lado de su archienemigo. Sus coloridas ropas y su aspecto en general le indicaban que no pertenecía al mundo de los muertos. “Oh! A tí no te había visto nunca...¿Quién eres?” Preguntó mientras se acercaba para examinarlo más de cerca. “Yo...soy un simple vendedor de medicinas” Respondió Kusuriuri haciendole una profunda reverencia. “Mmm..¿vendedor de medicinas, díces? Es posible..pero hay algo más..” Hakutaku lo escudriñaba de cerca con una expresión de profunda concentración en el rostro. De pronto, ante la vergüenza de todos, con un rápido movimiento, estampó una de sus manos en las posaderas del vendedor de medicinas. Solo duró un segundo, ya que la bestia sagrada salió volando (por segunda vez en ese día) en el mismo instante en que hizo contacto con la masa del demonio. “¿¡QUÉ DIABLOS CRÉES QUE ESTAS HACIENDO, MALDITO PERVERTIDO?!” Los tres animales y Momotaro intentaban contener al demonio que parecía tener todas las intenciones de asesinar a su enemigo en ese momento. “¡Lo sabía!, Lo siento, pero no tenía otra forma de comprobarlo. Ellos no suelen ser muy propensos a dar información de sí mismos..” Ellos , pensó intrigado Shiro ¿Quiénes ellos? Hakutaku continuó tranquilamente como si no hubiera un demonio pidiendo por su cabeza a pocos pasos. “Como siempre, son las colas las que los delatan. Cuando los Kitsunes se convierten en humanos tienen dificultades para ocultarlas. Aunque debo decirte que has hecho un maravilloso trabajo con tu kimono y obi. A simple vista, nadie se atrevería a notarlas, claro que al tacto..” Un ligero sonrojo se hizo presente en el rostro del vendedor de medicinas. “Ahora bien, me pregunto ¿Qué hace un adorable Kitsune junto a este desagradable sujeto?” Preguntó Hakutaku al tiempo que se limpiaba la sangre que manaba de su naríz. “¡ESO NO TE IMPORTA! ¡NOS VAMOS!” Con un rápido movimiento Hoozuki tomo la mano del vendedor de medicinas y se lo llevó del lugar. “Fué un placer conocerlos!” alcanzó a decir el último, mientras era arrastrado de nuevo al infierno por el enfurecido demonio. Que extraño pensó la bestia sagrada mientras le alcanzaba un durazno a Shiro. Definitivamente tenía que saber más de esto. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Sentado en su trono, en el palacio infernal, el rey Enma permanecía sumido en sus pensamientos.Qué extraño, pensó Hakutaku mientras le entregaba el pedido de medicinas que le había encargado. Usualmente el rey desbordaba entusiasmo y siempre parecía dispuesto a una buena charla, pero ese día parecía algo ido..“Disculpe señor, ¿Ocurre algo?”“Oh, no..nada importante. Es solo que Hoozuki esta algo extraño últimamente. Hace unos días, vino a entregarme el reporte que confirmaba que el gran número de bajas que estabamos recibiendo se debe a la Gran Guerra en el mundo humano y desde entonces no he sabido nada de él. ..”“¿No está haciendo su trabajo?”Preguntó descreído Hakutaku, quien no podía concebir que algo así ocurriera.“Bueno no...no, necesariamente. Hace sus labores solo que, ya no almuerza conmigo ni nos cruzamos tan frecuentamente como antes..es extraño”La bestia sagrada meditó unos momentos y luego pareció llegar a una conclusión. “Bueno... debe ser por el Kitsune”El rey Enma lo miró sin entender.“¿Kitsune?¿Qué Kitsune?”“Últimamente lo he visto acompañado por un Kitsune. Ha adoptado la forma de un hombre jóven, con extraña pintura en el rostro y un kimono colorido..” ¿En serio no lo ha visto? Pensó el farmaceutico al notar la cara de desconcierto que el otro le ponía.Sabía que el rey solía ser algo despistado, pero pasar por alto un sujeto tan peculiar era el colmo. A menos que...“¿Y qué haría un Kitsune con nuestro Hoozuki?”Hakutaku pasó por alto el posesivo“nuestro” y se concentró en dar una respuesta.“Bueno, eso es lo que me he estado preguntando..pero el saber que usted desconocía su existencia, solo me deja una conclusión”“¿Y cuál es?” El rey Enma se acercó a él.“Hoozuki se lo ha ocultado deliberadamente” Dijo Hakutaku en tono conspiratorio.“¿Y eso por qué?” susurró el soberano.“Bueno...es evidente”Los dos se habían acercado tanto que apenas levantaban la voz para hablar. Hakutaku usaba un tono tan serio y grave que el rey moría de la intriga.“Se trata de...”“¿De...?”“De un...”“¿De un qué..?“DE UNA HISTORIA DE AMOR IMPOSIBLE!!” Remató triunfalmente la bestia sagrada, mientras agitaba un puño al aire en señal de victoria.“SII! DE UNA HISTORIA DE AMOR IMPOSI...!..Espera ¡¿QUÉ?!” El rey se había dejado llevar por el entusiasmo del otro, pero se había detenido en el momento en que pudo darle sentido a sus palabras.“Bueno, es obvio..”“No estoy tan seguro de poder seguirte”“Hoozuki lo ha traído del mundo humano. Usted mismo dijo que la Gran Guerra estaba generando muchos muertos. Es posible que se hayan enamorado y él lo haya traído aquí para evitar su muerte”Enma no parecía muy convencido. ¿Hoozuki enamorado? ¿Y de un Kitsune? Era lo más ridículo que había escuchado.“Pienselo por un momento..Hoozuki siempre ha sido alguien reservado en relación a su vida privada..¿Quién sabe hace cuánto tiempo han estado saliendo?”“Uhm”“Él siempre ha tenido una extraña fascinación por los animales peludos y esponjosos, no es de extrañar que se haya fijado en un zorro que puede convertirse en humano como pareja”El rey podía recordar con claridad la conversación que habían tenido hacía unos días en relación a los animales australianos que el demonio deseaba acariciar.“Bueno en eso tienes razón” “Además, parecía muy posesivo con él cuando estuvo en mi presencia”“¿Posesivo..?”“Y por último..¿Por qué le ocultaría su existencia?”“Bueno..no lo sé” Enma ya estaba mareado.“Eso es porque sabe que mantener a alguien del mundo de los vivos en este plano, va contra todas las leyes”El rey procesó unos momentos la información. Desde la visión de Hakutaku, todo parecía encajar. Aunque la bestia sagrada tenía la desagradable costumbre de ver amor, incluso en lugares dónde claramente no lo había, no podía evitar recordar la última conversación que había tenido con el demonio antes de sus vacaciones en Australia.Hoozuki había sido sorprendentemente abierto con él en relación a sus gustos en una pareja. Había señalado que le agradaría estar con alguien que aguantara el dolor y que no tuviera miedo de probar cosas nuevas. Un Kitsune podía ajustarse perfectamente a esa descripción.“Pero en ese caso..¿Por qué querría evitar que muriese? Tal vez, si se ha portado mal, pueda tener la oportunidad de venir aquí y.. ”“Se equivoca” Lo cortó al instante el farmacéutico. “Un Kitsune, es un sirviente de la Diosa Inari, por ende, es un producto de su voluntad. En caso de morir, el Kitsune vuelve a ser uno con su Diosa... sin dejar rastros.”Hakutaku hablaba resueltamente haciendo uso de sus conocimientos como bestia sagrada del Shangri-La.“Hoozuki no puede permanecer en el mundo de los vivos. Pero teme que su amado sea asesinado y desaparezca. Es por eso que...el traerlo aquí, quebrantando todas las reglas del infierno,tal vez sea la única forma de amor que puedan tener”Al terminar el discurso de Hakutaku, el rey Enma estaba casi al borde del llanto. No podía imaginar lo que debía estar sufriendo su subordinado favorito. Tenía que haber algo que pudiera hacer. Alguna forma de ayudarlo. Alguna excepción a la regla. “¡EN NOMBRE DEL AMOR, TENEMOS QUE AYUDARLO!” El soberano del infierno se había parado en su silla, haciendo que algunos demonios menores que pasaban por ahí lo miraran estupefactos.“¿¿Tenemos??” La bestia sagrada no le veía buen color a esto.“¿Tu no has dicho siempre que el amor debe triunfar?”“Bueno si, pero..”“Este es el momento de olvidar sus diferencias por un bien mayor” El rey lo mantenía agarrado por los hombros mientras estrellas parecían salir de sus ojos.Definitivamente debía aprender a mantener la boca cerrada, pensó Hakutaku dando un hondo suspiro. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- El palacio infernal estaba inusualmente concurrido esa tarde. Numerosos demonios y Yokais de diversas categorías se hayaban reunidos en el gran salón. Hoozuki nunca había visto tal congregación de empleados en un solo lugar. “Disculpen” Llamó la atención de Karauri y Nasubi al ubicarlos entre la multitud. “¿Sáben qué está ocurriendo?” Los aprendices negaron con la cabeza, mirando con curiosidad al sujeto de colorido kimono que acompañaba a su superior. “El rey Enma-sama nos ha citado aquí, pero aún no nos ha dicho por qué...” Contestó Karauri mientras se rascaba la cabeza con aire pensativo. “¿Será que va a aumentarnos el sueldo?” Dijo Nasubi con aire esperanzado. “Claro que no, si aumentara el salario de todos los presentes, el infierno quedaría en bancarrota..” Retrucó al instante su compañero. “Bueno pero aún así..” Hoozuki y el vendedor de medicinas se alejaron del par que ya comenzaba una acalorada discusión sobre las finanzas infernales. “¿Qué crées que sea?” Preguntó extrañado el vendedor de medicinas mientras seguía al Oni entre la multitud. “No lo sé..no es propio de él hacer algo así...” ¿Sería que había descubierto..? De pronto, todas las luces del salón se apagaron y la figura del rey Enma se materializó al disiparse una nube de humo. Todos los presentes en la estancia cesaron instantáneamente sus conversaciones, centrándose en el soberano. Unos embarazosos segundos pasaron hasta que el rey por fín habló. “ ¡¡HOOZUKI!!” Bramó en un rugido que resonó por toda la sala. “¡TU Y EL KITSUNE QUE ESTÁ CONTIGO, AL FRENTE!” El demonio y el vendedor de medicinas intercambiaron una nerviosa mirada antes de dirigirse al frente del salón. Entonces el rey sabía. ¿Sería despedido? Meditaba el Oni. Mientras avanzaban podían escuchar los susurros de los Yokais cuchicheando a su alrededor. Si definitivamente iba a ser despedido hubiera preferido menos público . Pensó algo deprimido el demonio. Cuando por fín ambos estuvieron cerca del rey, éste continuó. “Tu” dijo señalando a su subordinado “Has estado ocultándome información sensible el último tiempo” Hoozuki respiró hondo preparado para defenderse. No iba a irse sin obtener, al menos, una buena indemnización. Sin embargo, Enma no lo dejó emitir palabra. “Has puesto en peligro las leyes básicas que separan nuestro mundo del mundo humano..y todo por un Kitsune” Sentenció observando grávemente al vendedor de medicinas que todo ese tiempo había permanecido con la cabeza gacha en señal de reverencia. El Oni podía escuchar los murmullos detrás de sí elevarse. Si Enma quería dar un ejemplo a sus empleados con esto, lo estaba logrando con creces. “Aunque..” continuó, mientras con una mano elevaba el rostro del vendedor de medicinas “Creo que nadie podría culparte por eso..” Finalizó dándo una apreciativa mirada al confundido Kitsune frente a sí. ¿De qué está hablando? Pensó aturdido el demonio. “¡Es por eso que con la ayuda de Hakutaku, bestia sagrada del Shangri-La, hemos logrado encontrar una salida a tan difícil situación!” Al escuchar esas palabras, Hoozuki fulminó con la mirada al farmaceutico chino ¿Qué diablos tienes tú que ver en esto? “¡Oh, no me lo agradezcas!” Le contestó el otro mentalmente. “Es por eso que todos estan reunidos aquí, porque hoy celebraremos..una BODA INFERNAL!” Al decír esto, una suntuosa decoración se hizo presente en el lugar. Globos, flores y guirnaldas adornaron columnas y paredes. Un festín con manjares de diversa índole se materializó en un costado , al tiempo que un altar se elevaba sobre las cabezas del rey, el vendedor de medicinas y el propio Hoozuki. De pronto, todos los invitados estuvieron sentados en bancos. Karauri y Nasubi lloraban de emoción. Nos sabíamos que el gran Hoozuki-sama fuera a casarse, que felicidad. Se los escuchaba decír desde lejos. Tanto Hoozuki como el vendedor de medicinas parecían petrificados en el lugar. Ninguno era capaz de emitir palabra. “Oh, no se preocupen” Se acercó a ellos afáblemente el rey Enma “Sé que es un poco precipitado, pero Hakutaku me puso al corriente de su situación y ésta es la única manera de que puedan estar juntos” “De...¿De qué situación?” El demonio parecía salir lentamente de su letargo mientras sentía que una ira asesina se apoderaba de él. “Bueno, de su historia de amor imposible, por supuesto. Ya no es necesario que lo oculten, por cierto. Encontramos unos viejos tratados que dicen que si contraen matrimonio, el Kitsune pasará a ser ciudadano oficial del infierno, ya no tienen de qué preocuparse..” En el preciso instante en que Hoozuki iba a responderle, las puertas del palacio se abrieron de par en par. ¿Y ahora qué? Pensó el demonio. La figura de un hombre y tres animales se recortaba en el marco de la entrada. “¡DETENGAN LA BODA!” Exclamó a viva voz Momotaro, mientras apuntaba con su bandera a los “novios” en el altar. “ACASO ¿ NO VEN QUE ESTÁN EQUIVOCADOS?” Al fín alguien con sentido común. Pensó el Oni aliviado. Ante la incrédula mirada de todos los presentes. Momotaro avanzó resuelto junto a sus animales hacia el frente del salón. “Esta boda no puede llevarse a cabo porque se trata de... ¡UN SECUESTRO!” La boca de Hoozuki parecía llegar a rozar el suelo. “¿Un secuestro, díces? ¡Eplícate jovencito!” El rey Enma, parecía tan consternado con la repentina aparición del antiguo héroe como los demás. “Shiro, me lo ha contado todo.” En ese momento, Shiro quería escabullirse entre los presentes, pero el rápido abrazo de Momotaro lo detuvo. “Me ha dicho que Hoozuki-sama ha traído a este hombre de Japón contra su voluntad, y que ha sido sometido a sus perversos tratos” “Bueno, eso no fue exactamente lo que le dije..”Susurraba Shiro con gesto de querer que lo tragase la tierra. “Hoozuki-sama, ha sido amable conmigo, me ha dado un buen trabajo y un sueldo, por eso..” Momotaro se irguió en su mejor pose épica. “¡NO VOY A DEJAR QUE CAIGA EN LAS OSCURAS GARRAS DE LA PERVERSIÓN! ¡EN NOMBRE DE LA JUSTICIA, LIBERE A ESE HOMBRE AHORA!” Y eso fué hasta dónde pudo tolerar Hoozuki. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- El palacio infernal era un auténtico desastre. Las guirnaldas, y comida desperdigados por todo el lugar, bancos caídos y paredes dañadas eran el mudo testimonio de la intensa lucha que se había llevado a cabo pocas horas antes. El rey Enma y Momotaro permanecían sentados en las escalinatas con sendos chichones sobre sus cabezas y una nube negra de depresión que parecía seguirlos adonde fueran. El corazón de Shiro se encogió al verlos en tan deplorable estado. “Al menos se encuentran mejor que Hakutaku-sama..” Pensó en voz alta. Solo hacía pocos minutos que habían logrado frenar la hemorragia que manaba de su cabeza. Al escucharlo Momotaro le dirigió una frustrada mirada. “Bueno, tú, Rurio y Kakisuke han tenido suerte de ser animales..sino hubieran terminado como nosotros.” “Ese Hoozuki no se ha medido para nada..¿Cómo íbamos a saber que todo se trataba de una misión secreta? Agregó penosamente el soberano mientras se colocaba una compresa en uno de sus múltiples chichones. “Aún así no lo entiendo...¡dijiste que los habías visto juntos en la misma cama!” El antiguo héroe aún no comprendía cómo su tan heroica y noble intervención hubiera resultado en una batalla campal producto de un malentendido. “Ah..respecto a eso” Shiro se encogió un poco avergonzado “Cuando le pregunté a Hoozuki-sama acerca de eso, me dijo que era porque él no poseía dos camas y no podía hacer que su invitado durmiera en el suelo..” Unos segundos pasaron en los que ni el Rey Enma ni Momotaro dijeron nada. “Eso no tiene sentido para mi..” “Tampoco para mi..” Respondieron ambos al unísono. “Pero supongo que tratándose de Hoozuki, es de esperarse..” Sentenció el monarca finalmente. “Evidentemente, todo se trató de una confusión..ahora bien, me pregunto ¿Quién va a ordenar todo este desastre? “ dijo refiriéndose al estado del palacio Las miradas de Momotaro y el rey se centraron en el pequeño perro blanco frente a ellos. “Ehh..bueno creo que ya debo irme” “¡Shiro!” Gritaron los dos hombres al tiempo que perseguían al causante de todo por el salón. Mientras tanto, en la habitación de Hoozuki, el vendedor de medicinas colocaba distintos unguentos en las mordeduras que la bestia sagrada había dejado en el Oni. “No comprendo.. no entiendo qué se les pudo haber cruzado por la cabeza para armar tanto escándalo. De seguro todo debió ser idea de ese idiota de Hakutaku. ¡Voy a matarlo la próxima vez que lo vea..!”Refunfuñaba mientras era atendido. “Listo” le dijo Kusuriuri mientras comenzaba a guardar sus medicinas en los cajones de su gran caja de madera. Hoozuki centró su atención en él. Había viajado al infierno para obtener información de un mononoke que volvía a aparecer en el mundo humano cada cierta cantidad de años. Siempre era el mismo mononoke (¿Bakeneko había dicho?) que de alguna forma escapaba de su prisión infernal para atormentar a un grupo de humanos. Interferir en el plano de los vivos de esa manera, iba contra la reglamentación vigente, por lo que Hoozuki se había ofrecido de ayuda para atraparlo a cambio de un pequeño favor. “Lamento que la inoperancia de mis colegas no te haya permitido encontrar al mononoke. Supongo que ahora que sabe que estás por aquí, todo será más difícil” El demonio suspiró deprimido. “Realmente me hubiera gustado completar nuestro trato..” El vendendor de medicinas lo observó fíjamente “Este ha sido un viaje para obtener información y sin lugar a dudas la he obtenido. Me has mostrado distintos sectores del infierno, me has informado sobre su funcionamiento y he conocido a varios de sus empleados. Sin contar con el hecho de que me divertido bastante durante todo esto. Siendo así, no veo por qué no deberíamos honrar nuestro acuerdo” Dijo Kusuriuri mientras que con un grácil movimiento se sentaba sobre la mesa y se desprendía de su obi. A éste, le siguieron varias prendas más hasta que finalmente el kimono se deslizó con suavidad por sus hombros, bajando por su espalda y yendo a parar justo a la altura donde terminaba su columna. El demonio estaba paralizado ante la visión que tenía en frente. Cuando le había pedido que a cambio de su ayuda le permitiera ver sus colas, lo había dicho sin pensar. Como si hablara con un animal cualquiera. No había caído en la cuenta de que si bien un Kitsune era en esencia un zorro, no dejaba de tener apariencia humana. Como resultado de su falta de tacto, ahora tenía a un jóven semidesnudo sentado arriba de su mesa de trabajo, enseñándole las blancas colas que nacían de la zona más comprometida de su cuerpo. Hoozuki se sintió un pervetido. Él no era esa clase de demonio. Estaba a punto de pedirle que se cubriera, que no era necesario exponerse a tan vergonzosa situación, cuando el Kitsune habló. “¿Qué te parecen? Nunca nadie me había pedido algo así. De hecho, casi siempre debo ocultarlas para pasar desapercibido entre los humanos. Es refrescante liberarlas, de vez en cuando.” El vendedor de medicinas parecía algo inseguro al hablar, como si realmente esperase algun tipo de valoración positiva de parte del oni. Entonces Hoozuki se fijó en él. Realmente se fijó en él. El Kitsune lo miraba de lado y su cabello cubría parte de su expresión. La pintura de su rostro también adornaba su espalda en complicados patrones que resaltaban la blancura de su téz.Sin tanta ropa que lo cubriera, su figura era estilizada y esbelta. Su cadera presentaba una delicada curbatura casi imperceptible y del final de su columna manaban las colas como si se tratara de una cascada de luz. A simple vista eran blancas, pero según la iluminación emitían un destello plateado que llenaba la habitación. Nunca, en toda su vida demoníaca, Hoozuki había visto algo así. Era tan peculiar y magnífico que no entendía como no se había percatado antes de la belleza de su compañero. Cayendo en la cuenta de que no había dicho nada en un prolongado espacio de tiempo, el oni tragó en seco obligándose a salir de su momento de revelación. “Estan...son..” sacudió la cabeza para ordenarse “Van muy bien contigo y con la forma de tu cuerpo, definitavemente debes estar orgulloso de ellas” Sentenció finalmente en un arranque de honestidad. Kusuriuri pareció satisfecho con esto, sonrió de medio lado y procedió a vestirse de nuevo. Mientras tanto, el demonio buscaba disimuladamente un pañuelo para cubrirse la hemorragia nasal que parecía inminente. Sin lugar a dudas, era un pervertido. Los días transcurrían en el infierno sin novedades. El trabajo se acumulaba y siempre había algo para hacer, por lo que Hoozuki no tenía mucho tiempo para sí mismo. Sus breves momentos de ocio se dividían entre cultivar peces dorados y fumar su pipa en uno de los balcones del palacio. En esta última actividad lo encontró el rey Enma cuando llamó su atención. Recientemente notaba que su subordinado estaba perdido en sus pensamientos. El soberano podía ser muy obtuso para ciertas cosas, pero en este caso, creía conocer el motivo. “Ah Hoozuki, que bueno encontrarte, he recibido un informe de que la Gran Guerra en el mundo humano ha terminado..” “Estoy en mi tiempo libre” Lo cortó sécamente el demonio, mientras exhalaba una bocanada de humo. “Ah lo sé, lo sé..bueno, supongo que aún sigues enojado por lo de la boda. ¿Cuánto ha pasado ya? ¿tres meses..?” “Nueve” Precisó el Oni con aire aburrido. “Oh? ¿Ya ha pasado tanto tiempo desde que él se fué? Parecía un sujeto agradable, no me hubiera molestado que se quedara un tiempo más entre nosotros.” Su subordinado lo miró con una expresión que decía “Sábes perfectamente que eso no era posible”. El rey Enma comenzó a sudar frío. No quería volver a incitar la ira del demonio. Así que se centró en el motivo que lo traía por ahí. “En fín, solo vine a pedirte un encargo. Dado que la guerra terminó, preciso un informe detallado de la cantidad de muertes que hubo en el mundo humano para cotejarla con los datos que tienen en nuestras oficinas. Sé que es un trabajo tedioso, por lo que necesito que te traslades a Japón por tiempo indeterminado para poder llenar bien esas listas. Los gastos corren por mi cuenta, por supuesto.” Hoozuki observó fíjamente al monarca indeciso en si debía comentar algo o no. Al cabo de unos segundos suspiró sonriendo, “Supongo que necesitan mucho esas listas” Enma, quien rogaba internamente que su empleado aceptara la oferta, también sonrió. “¡Oh, si! ¡Son indispensables! No queremos que mononokes sigan apareciendo en el otro plano.” Le dijo mientras le guiñaba un ojo y se retiraba satisfecho. Hoozuki se sonrojó. Ésta vez, a su viaje al mundo de los vivos, llevaría un racimo de sus flores pez dorado. Fín
10324100	Freezing Rain	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Trafalgar D. Water Law, Trafalgar D. Water Lammy, Penguin (One Piece), Shachi", "Fandom": "One Piece", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by lululawlawlu", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-16T00:00:00", "words": "408", "Additional Tags": "Nostalgia, implied romantic interest", "Relationship": "Monkey D. Luffy/Trafalgar D. Water Law", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "LawLu Fluff", "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 felt like centuries had past since Law had been in North Blue. He'd nearly forgotten how cold it was- how the rain fell in icy sheets here, slicking the heavy, wet snow. It brought to mind how he used to go sledding with his sister once the rains had cleared. He was barely old enough to go to school at that time but he’d still been a responsible big brother and held Lamy close before he pushed off. The ice coating the snow would let them fly dangerously fast, giving them a rush of excitement as they slid downhill. No matter how many times they lost control and went flying, Lamy would insist on returning to the top of the hill to ride again. They used to stay out until they were chilled to the core but those times were deep in the past now. The memories seated themselves in Law's mind like a far-off dream of a life that didn't seem like his own. Freezing rain began to beat violently against his umbrella and struck against the snow. The sound it was making was unique to this place- something that deepened the aching nostalgia in his heart. The best way he thought to describe the sound was ‘shhhuuu’. No, that wasn't right. Maybe ‘shi shi shi’? ‘Shi shi shi’? Come to think of it, that was more like the way he’d describe the sound Luffy-ya made when laughing through his teeth with that big, carefree grin stretched across his face. “Captain’s got a weird smile going on again,” Penguin observed. “Oh, I wonder who he's thinking about,” Shachi teased. Law righted his face. He let a disgruntled sigh out through his nose. What was wrong with him? Even the sound of the icy rain falling on the freshly fallen snow reminded him of that beautiful idiot. He was not going to admit that he might be missing his closest ally even the slightest bit. He'd never hear the end of it from his crew if he did. “I was just thinking how good your hearts would look in a box on my desk,” Law retorted as he turned to stalk back to the Polar Tang. Law wasn't sure if it was his subconscious tricking him, but maybe the sound of Luffy-ya’s laughter plucked at his heartstrings in just the right way to remind him of a fondness he'd long buried beneath the all pain he'd suffered.
10393911	exe	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Tyler Joseph, Josh Dun, Original Characters", "Fandom": "Twenty One Pilots", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by melodramatic", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-21T00:00:00", "words": "2,271", "Additional Tags": "video games - Freeform, no capitalization, High School AU, josh and tyler are both kinda dorks, it's just a bunch of fluff not gonna lie, late night drabble, Mentions of Anxiety", "Relationship": "Josh Dun/Tyler Joseph", "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 }	tyler tried to his best to lay low and stay quiet when it came to school. he sat in the back, kept his head low, and only answered questions when he was called on directly.he wasn't shy (and he sure as hell didn't like when people assumed he was), he was just struck with an anxious sort of blood that ran through his veins when he was forced to speak in front of crowds or even people he was used to being around.it just wasn't his scene.and no one understood that better than the kid he sat next to in math class. the kid that always took out his both of his earbuds to talk to tyler. "what problem are you on?" tyler whispered to josh one afternoon in class, as everyone worked silently on an assignment. josh glanced at his paper, and then back at tyler, "fourteen. you?"tyler frowned, "i'm stuck on number twelve. can you help me?"josh nodded, "yeah, of course. the formula is kinda tricky, but once-""is everything okay, josh?"josh whipped around to see that their teacher was looming over them, watching them talk. a few students had turned around to see who the teacher was about to reprimand, but for the most part, everyone was still doing their work. "yeah - we're fine, mrs. fedele. i was just helping tyler with number twelve."mrs. fedele looked up towards tyler who had turned his attention back to his paper. she walked over to him and squatted so that she and tyler were eye-to-eye."you're having trouble with problem twelve?""uh, just a little bit. i think i got it now, though," tyler said, his gaze not diverting from his desk. his leg was bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and josh wanted to give him a hug. "are you sure?" she asked.tyler nodded.she stood up and patted him on the back, "okay. well let me know if you need any help, alright?"tyler didn't say anything. the bell rang for them to attend their next class, and before tyler darted off into the hallway, josh gently placed his hand on his shoulder. he handed him a slip of paper he had ripped from the side of his assignment."here's my number. for, uh, math reasons of course. if you need help on another assignment, you can call me. or text me. or whatever," josh stated, scratching the back of his neck.tyler's body temperature increased, and he avoided eye contact with josh at all costs."oh, okay. thank you. i'll call you. if i need help with my math," tyler said, folding the note neatly and shoving it into his pocket."i'll see you tomorrow," he said, heading into the hallway before josh said anything else. it wasn't that he didn't want to talk to josh - he always wanted to talk to josh - he just wished there weren't so many eyes around to watch his every movement and every action.( )tyler did end up calling josh. it was related to math, in fact. josh answered after three rings and tyler asked him if he had written down all of the notes from yesterday's lecture.of course he did, he responded and tyler's hand burned where he held the phone against his ear. josh sent him a picture of the notes, and there was a small winky emoticon right beneath it. tyler's heart skipped a beat, but he immediately closed out the message, as he didn't actually need the notes. he was a very diligent note taker, and got down every word from yesterday's lecture.but when josh asked him the next day if the notes helped him at all, tyler responsed with an enthusiatic yes, and thanked josh for sending them.( )the first time josh came over to tyler's house, they had every intention of studying for finals together. josh came with books, binders, penicls and pens, and tyler was already overwhelmed at the sight of it all. "i suggest we take a break," josh said, leaning against the wall of tyler's bedroom, accidentally hitting his head in the process. he frowned, but tyler laughed."you don't have to hurt yourself to take a break, josh, i don't mind not studying for a second," tyler joked. josh laughed and small lines formed next to eyes that corresponded to the amount of teeth he was showing.his smile was truly something out of a movie. except for the fact that the best director in the world couldn't script a smile as beautiful as josh's was in the moment.when tyler realized he had been staring at josh for just a tad bit too long, he immediately fixed his gaze elsewhere. he looked towards the small tv and console he had in his room."wanna play a game?" he asked.josh pursed his lips, "what do you have?"tyler went up to his video game collection he had sitting on his dresser, and picked up a few of them."um, well, i have donkey kong, a few mario games, tomb raider-""tomb raider!" josh shouted, pumping his fists in the air. tyler chuckled, and raised an eyebrow."really?" he asked."yes, of course! it's gotta be one of the best series out there. you have to play it for me," josh told him, rubbing the back of his head."why me?""it's your game. plus, it's single player. it's fine, though, i wanna watch how you play it. you could probably find more easter eggs than i could."and so their tradition started. on weekends, breaks, or just days off, one of them would go over to the other's house and watch them play a game that they themselves were unsure of. and when tyler was under a particularly bad spell of anxiety, he would climb the roof to josh's room and knock on the window. whether the room was dark, light, silent, or blaring with music, josh almost immediately turned towards the sound. he let tyler in without hesitation each time, and tyler would sit on josh's bed with his knees tucked into his chest and would watch josh play a new or old game.usually, josh would play level after level of a game, all the while rambling on about a cheat code he used, a different texture pack he found, or the orgin of one or more characters in the game. and tyler would listen. he would nod his head, and eventually josh would get a laugh or chuckle from the boy, and tyler would feel better.one night something was off, though. more than usual. josh paused his progress in silent hill. half of it was because tyler wasn't paying regular attention like he usually did, and the other half was because he was scared out of his wits.either way, he turned towards tyler who kept his eyes fixed on the screen."are you okay, ty?"tyler nodded."no you're not."tyler didn't say anything. josh scooted closer so that their body heat intermingled, and he put his arm around tyler's shoulder. the young boy leaned into josh's side, his face on josh's chest. he took a deep breath. "y'know, if you weren't here, i wouldn't even be thinking of playing this game," josh stated.tyler looked up. "why not?""'cause it's scary as hell. but," josh looked at tyler who was looking up at him, patiently waiting for josh to finish his sentence. and josh wondered how he could ever be expected not to kiss tyler. he was beautiful.truly, honestly, naturally beautiful. josh's eyes flicked down to tyler's nose. it had this perfect slope that the greatest sculptor in the world couldn't bring justice to. "but what?" tyler asked after the room had been settled in silence.josh blinked himself out of his daze, "but you make it less scary. or something."tyler looked at him for a few more moments before he took another deep breath and rested his head back on josh's chest. it was awhile before josh unpaused the game.( )"have you ever played an exe file before?" josh asked tyler one day after they receeded back into josh's room after doing homework in his living room. "an exe file? what's that?" tyler asked.josh grabbed his laptop and layed stomach-down on his bed, tyler plopping down next to him in the exact same position. "well, technically it just means that it's an executable file, but people make games out of them. and they're usually scary games. for example," josh clicked a folder on his homescreen and a few clicks later, he was in his downloaded games folder, "this is just a regular sonic game."he cirlced the mouse around a file entitled "sonic." "but," he dragged the mouse down until he reached another file that looked similar, "this is sonic.exe. it's way... creepier. i haven't played it yet, though. i was waiting for you."tyler looked at josh, who was still messing around with the files on his screen. by the time josh made eye contact with him, he had started to trace patterns on josh's face with his eyes. he really liked looking at josh's face. one could even say he loved it, in fact."can i tell you a secret, josh?" tyler asked suddenly.josh's mind was completely detached from his laptop now, his entire attention focused on tyler."yeah, dude, you know you can tell me anything," he said, shifting his body to face tyler more.tyler looked down to where josh was propping his head up on his elbow. he let his eyes drift to josh's torso, and then to his midriff where his shirt had ridden up a bit and the lower part of his belly was exposed.when tyler's neck started to heat up, he looked back at josh who's gaze never faltered."you're my best friend."josh cracked a smile and laughed lightly, "is that really what you wanted to tell me?" tyler hesitated, but he nodded nontheless. josh simply quirked an eyebrow and laughed again, turning his attention back to his laptop."let me show you the other exe files i have," he said. tyler let his eyes linger on josh for one more second before he followed josh's mouse on the screen. and if tyler didn't know any better, he would've thought the small smirk on josh's face was because of him.( )it was dark and raining when tyler knocked on josh's glass for what easily could've been the hundreth time in just that week, it seemed. tyler was a mess. he was always a mess. even the weather was a mess. it was the middle of june, and it should've been bright and warm outside, but instead it was pouring buckets. tyler had just woken up from a particularly jarring dream. in his dream josh didn't want to do homework with him anymore, and he told him he would never play another video game for him again. tyler was crying (in the dream and in real life), and he asked josh to at least leave him his laptop. josh refused and left without a trace.so tyler was relieved at the least when he knocked on josh's window, and the boy shot up from his bed, groggily walking over to his window and opening it. he blinked hard once, twice, three times before he registered the state tyler was in."ty, you're all wet," he stated, leading the boy into his room, regardless. tyler was shaking from the cold, from the rain, and from the thoughts in his head. "hey, what's wrong?" he asked, putting his hands on tyler's shoulders. when tyler's tears started to fall even harder, josh pulled him in for a close hug, and he didn't mind that his pajamas were getting soaked. "did you have the dream again?" josh asked softly. tyler nodded, wrapping his arms around josh in return. josh let tyler weep in silence, rubbing his back in small, comforting motions. when tyler's tears finally began to slow down, josh wiped the wet tracks from his cheeks. they made eye contact and josh decided right then and there that he was absolutely smitten. even in the dark, with the rain pounding on his window, and with tyler leaving wet footprints all over his just-cleaned carpet, he was sure he'd never seen someone as beatiful.josh decided to take a risk, and he leaned down to kiss tyler's left cheek, where he knew the tears fell harder. tyler stood frozen, not moving away, but also not advancing. "you know i'd never leave you, right?" he asked into the dark.tyler nodded, his breath stuttering. "you're my best friend, tyler."tyler shivered and brought his hands up to cup josh's face. josh put his hands on tyler's wrists, caressing the soft inside with his thumbs."you're my best friend, too."and they stood just like that, together, in the dark. they were frozen in the moment together, and even the rain seemed to obey the law of the moment, as it stilled itself to a light sprinkle.tyler's heart began to dance to a different beat as josh leaned in closer. and finally, finally, their lips connected. tyler sighed deeply into the kiss, and for a moment he had forgotten why he was even in josh's room at 2am. but he didn't really need a reason, after all.because when josh pulled back and looked into tyler's eyes with an expression tyler had never seen so unfiltered, then that was all the reason he needed.
10382913	Wciskajac przycisk	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Loki (Marvel), Bruce Banner", "Fandom": null, "Language": "Polski", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Lampira7", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-20T00:00:00", "words": "792", "Additional Tags": "Pre-Slash", "Relationship": "Bruce Banner/Loki", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "The Avengers (Marvel Movies), 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 }	— Czy to prawda, że jesteś tym zielonym potworem, który rzucił mną w samochód w zeszłym tygodniu? — spytał swobodnym tonem Loki, uchylając się z przerażającą łatwością zarówno przed tarczą rzuconą przez Kapitana, jak i promieniem Iron Mana.Przez ten manewr przesunął się do Bruce’a na wyciągnięcie ręki, który nie czuł się jednak skłonny go uchwycić, gdy wciąż miał swoją ludzką formę. Należał do Avengersów zaledwie od trzech miesięcy, a już czuł się coraz bardziej znużony. To był dość duży problem dla kogoś, kto polega na stresie, by uzyskać dostęp do... swoich mocy.— Na to wygląda — odpowiedział ostrożnie Bruce, starając się skupić na przyśpieszeniu akcji swego serca i wywołaniu przemiany.Loki zanurkował za nim, używając go jako wciąż ludzką tarczę. Cholera!— Musisz być potężnym zmiennokształtnym.Coś w jego głosie powodowało, że Banner zgrzytał zębami. Smukła dłoń dotknęła jego biodra i z siłą, która wydawała się nieproporcjonalna do szczupłej sylwetki Lokiego, Bruce został zmuszony do obrócenia się razem z nim. Był to niewinny ruch, z pozoru mający za zadanie jedynie przeszkodzić Iron Manowi, który krążył wokół nich, starając się znaleźć szansę na czysty strzał.Jednakże ręka zatrzymała się na jego ciele odrobinę za długo.Tętno Bruce'a podskoczyło gwałtownie w bardzo krótkim czasie.— Czy wiesz... — Loki szepnął mu do ucha —...że zielony to mój ulubiony kolor?Gdy usta Lokiego musnęły ucho mężczyzny, adrenalina w organizmie osiągnęła poziom krytyczny i jego świadomość zaczęła powoli znikać, a alter ego wkroczyło na scenę.Tony powiedział mu później, że Loki z uśmiechem kręcił się w pobliżu, unikając prób wściekłego Hulka, który starał się go schwytać – dopóki nie pojawił się Thor. Tuż przed zniknięciem w chmurze zielonego dymu, udało mu się zwabić Hulka do w połowie wykończonego wieżowca, wartego kilka milionów dolarów. Robotnicy, pracujący na budowie, muszą przyjść w poniedziałek, by zacząć wszystko od nowa. OoO Bruce nie był do końca przekonany o swoim potencjale jako superbohatera. To nie było coś, o czym mówił głośno. Żył w strachu przed dniem, w którym Fury dojdzie do tego samego wniosku. Był przekonany, że jego jedyną alternatywę stanowił nieszczęśliwy (i prawdopodobnie krótki) pobyt w celi T.A.R.C.Z.Y lub generała Rossa.Problem polegał na tym, że Hulk nie działał jak precyzyjne narzędzie. Był niczym duże działo i kula do rozbiórki w jednym. Mogłeś mu tylko wskazać ogólny kierunek i modlić się, byś zdołał przetrwać jego powrót.Fury przynajmniej to rozumiał. Wydawało się, że inni ludzie mają problem z tą koncepcją.— Czy rozumiesz, co mówię? — wysapał Bruce, trzymając się za klatkę piersiową i starając przypomnieć sobie Gavantri, mantrę do jogi służącą mu do uspokojenia się. — Nie możesz robić czegoś takiego! Komuś stanie się krzywda! I to zapewne tobie!Pająk, którego znalazł w wannie, przechylił głowę w kierunku mężczyzny. Bruce nie miał arachnofobii, ale trudno było zachować spokój przy pająku wielkości Volkswagena. Jad kapał z jego kłów, rozpuszczając powoli porcelanę.Osiem odnóży poruszyło się jednocześnie, gdy stworzenie wytoczyło się z wanny. Bruce wziął głęboki oddech na uspokojenie i wyprostował się, odmawiając bycia przestraszonym w tym wszystkim.Wpatrywali się przez chwilę w siebie nawzajem. Następnie ciało stwora zaczęło marszczyć się i skręcać, aż Asgardzki bóg podstępu stanął tuż przed nim. Loki obdarował go uśmiechem, który odsłaniał zbyt wiele zębów.— Sądziłem, że moje talenty zostaną przez ciebie docenione, jako zmiennokształtnego.— Tak, to było bardzo imponujące — powiedział oschle Bruce, idąc z powrotem do sypialni. Łazienki w wieży Avangersów nie posiadały kamer bezpieczeństwa, ale pokoje miały urządzenie, które aktywowało się głosem z użyciem hasła.Loki, podążający w ślad za nim, minął go i usiadł na łóżku.— Nie martwisz się, że ochrona cię tutaj złapie? — Bruce podkreślił słowo „ochrona”, kuląc się w duchu na myśl, jak oczywiste to było.Loki nie wydawał się świadomy obiektywu kamery znajdującej się na suficie i małego, czerwonego światełka, które właśnie mrugnęło, ale jego zmarszczki wokół oczu pogłębiły się zauważalnie.— Ani trochę. Mój głupi brat jest teraz w Muspelheim, próbując wyjaśnić nieprawdziwą plotkę związaną z dwugłową kozą, dotyczącą jego i najmłodszej córki Lorda Sutr’a. Co do reszty twojej małej grupy, cóż... — zaśmiał się delikatnie i spojrzał spod rzęs na Bruce’a. — Zaprawdę, jedynym Avangersem, który przykuł moją uwagę, jesteś ty.— Szczęściarz ze mnie. — Wydawało mu się, że słyszy krzyki i tupot stóp coraz bliżej.— W istocie — Loki westchnął cicho i wstał, zostawiając po sobie zmierzwioną pościel. —– A ponieważ mnie interesujesz, udzielę ci mojego dobrodziejstwa. Rada, jeśli jej zechcesz, od jednego zmiennokształtnego dla drugiego, aczkolwiek z niedoskonałą kontrolą. — Zbliżył się do niego bardzo blisko i ściszył głos do szeptu: — Praktyka czyni mistrza.W kolejnej sekundzie zdarzyło się kilka rzeczy naraz. Steve wykopał drzwi z zawiasów. Hawkeye wpadł tuż za nim z wyciągniętą już strzałą, a Loki rzucił kulę ognia w sufit, sprawiając, że ten zaczął spadać.I tuż przed tym, jak jego świat zatonął w złościstrachubóluZIELENI, Bruce'owi zdawało się, że usłyszał, jak Loki mówi:— Wspaniały.
10366422	Already moved on	{ "Archive Warning": "Major Character Death", "Category": null, "Characters": "Heiwajima Shizuo, Orihara Izaya, Vorona", "Fandom": "Durarara!!", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Fat_the_cat", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-19T00:00:00", "words": "876", "Additional Tags": "Sad, Angst, no happy ending, One-Sided Relationship?, or Unrequited Love?, Suicide, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Izaya is ooc like really ooc, i had this idea after reading a short thing i wrote in 4th grade, I'm sorry for this piece of shit", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya, Heiwajima Shizuo/Vorona", "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 }	I really never saw it coming, of all the things that could have happened this was something I never even considered a possibility. Then again the brute always had a knack for surprising me. He was special that way I guess, always doing the opposite of what I predicted. I hated him for that for a long time, or maybe I was just frustrated with that fact and calling it hate. I learned that there's a difference between hate and frustration. I also learned that hate and love are very similar emotions, so similar that you can easily confuse the two. I don't know for sure if hate turned to love, or if I was just confusing love with hate. If it was hate turn love it must have happened so slowly and subtly that i didn't notice the change until one day I finally realized the difference between frustration and hate. If it was Me confusing love with hate then it took a long time to realize how close love and hate really are. I'm regretting not doing anything about these feelings when I still had at least a sliver of a chance. They say love hurts, well this is agony. sevan months before "Shizuo's getting married, Celty!" Izaya heard Shinra yell from the other end of the apartment, he was there to talk with Celty about a job since he was in the area.Celty's helmet was cocked to the side in question, and while outwardly he looked calm inside Izaya was about to have a heart attack. "He's getting married, just look!" Shinra said excitedly as he handed a white letter to her. After a moment of silence she grabbed her phone and with lightning speed typed something, whatever she typed must have been funny because Shinra broke out laughing. Izaya sat there awkwardly for a moment before asking "Who was brave enough to marry a monster?" Shinra replied by handing him the letter. The letter was in fact an invitation to the wedding of Heiwajima Shizuo and Vorona. He...He didn't want to believe it, Izaya just stared at the invitation for a few more seconds before setting it down on the coffee table. He stood and walked to the door said goodbye and left. present After Izaya heard that Shizuo got married he avoided him like the plaque, for the entire time he hardly slept, barely ate, and only did enough work to pay rent and utilities. He still went to Ikebukuro at least three times a week out of habit.He hurt with every step around this city, the ake in his chest turned to full body agony the moment he entered Ikebukuro. In the crowded city full of his once adored humans he felt alone. He slowly yet carefully wandered the city, eventually stopping in a park. Looking around he sighed and sat on an empty bench, he leaned back and gazed at the sky. He was tired, he was depressed, and he was alone. He had always known that nobody liked him, but now it seemed that it was somehow worse. He realized that Shizuo was one of the few people that were constant in his life. Izaya began to drift deep into his thoughts, so deep that he almost didn't notice the blond in a bartender's suit holding the hand of a petite blond girl dressed in a white shirt and red shorts. They were walking together happily together, he had honestly never seen Shizuo look so happy. Vorona was beautiful, she was smart, and from what he can see is vary much in love with Shizuo. Izaya stood from the bench and silently made his way to the couple, he gently tapped Shizuo's shoulder. Shizuo turned around and immediately snarled, but before anything else could be done Izaya spoke"I'm happy for you" and he truly meant it. He turned and walked away leaving the park and a confused Shizuo to watch him fade into the crowd. That night Izaya went to bed and dreamed of what might have been. The next day anybody who might have missed him had already moved on. this is the thing that i wrote in 4th grade as i found it. somehow i got a B on this. Pain she's a gentle friend of mine, she's always been but tonight I can barely look her in the eyes.sadness he's a shy sweet gentle guy who always looks at me with compassion in his cold eyes.they are now my only and favrot company as I walk down these crowded streets.So why do I still feel so lonely?She holds my hand firm but kind, he keeps a gentle grip on my shoulder.I see you and him walk by holding hands and happy.Jealosy waltzes by, her sharp eyes stare as they wave and you mutter a soft hi and the strangest thing is that with me she's never green always blue.I mutter fore true word and they will be the last I ever say to you '... I'm happy for you'.I'll lay in bed to night safe and sound but by tomarrow I'll gone and you'd already have moved on. that was somehow given a B...
10336490	Sarahs Gone	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Stargate SG-1", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Lukitas [archived by stargatefan_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-12-31T00:00:00", "words": "1,258", "Additional Tags": "Angst, POV First Person, Missing Scene", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "StargateFan Archive Collection", "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 }	Sarah's Gone Sarah's Gone Written by Lukitas Comments? Write to us at [email protected] SPOILERS: Hathor, Need, Secrets, Forever in a Day, Past and Present , The Curse Daniel's thoughts as Osiris' leaving. Missing tag to "The Curse" PG [A] [1st] Oh my god, Sha're's gone. Again, once more. No, not again, she's not Sha're.But the pain and the feelings are the same. Why her, why now, why me? <Sha're>You were taken from me over four years ago, and I still miss you now as it if was yesterday, I know now that you're not coming back, but I still love you, and I always will. In a way it was my fault that you got kidnapped.When you were taken from me, my life became empty. With you went the best part of me; it was only with the help of my friends that I survived those terrible days, and the ones that followed. When I think about all that's happened through the years, I have to wonder why the hell it's always me. I don't deserve all the things that have happened over the last three years. The Goa'ulds seem to be fixed on me. In all my life I haven't had many people who cared for me, or that I cared for, but they seemed to have been snatched from me one after another. When I was a child I couldn't do anything to prevent my parent's death. Even though it was a great loss, I know now that it was an accident. All these things are different. The Goa'uld have systematically crashed all my vague attempts of built a life. One after one without reprieve. <Hathor>. Whenever I remember her, a cold shiver comes around me. She deluded all of us, and especially me. I know that the person who fell in love with her wasn't really me, and that it wasn't love but I can't avoid thinking that I failed you, Sha're, that day. Wasn't the first, and it wouldn't be the last. <Sha're> When I met you again, on Abydos, well, I wasn't ready to face you. Not there, not that moment. All those years I was hoping to find you, and when I finally did, I .... I just failed you again. When you told me that you were ashamed, oh my sweetheart, I was the one who should be ashamed, especially after Shyla. <Shyla> When we met in Abydos that first time since you were abducted, I was just starting to overcome the entire damned affair, the sarcophagus, the withdrawal, Jack.... I don't think I could ever forget what she did to me, but in time I will forgive her. It wasn't entirely her fault, I was there too, and it was my choice at the beginning. I spent too much time trying to forgive myself for what I did to Jack, and maybe one day I will finally succeed in that particular goal. Not now, not tomorrow, but someday. I don't have clear thoughts about what happened those days on Shyla's planet, but the scene in the storeroom is clearly vivid in my mind, I remember every night, with all details. What I almost did. I nearly....Oh my god, it has been almost three years but I still blame Shyla for this. Not for the sarcophagus, not for the withdrawal, not for what was done to me, but for what I did to my friends as a result. This was entirely Shyla's fault, and I will never, never forgive her for that, as I never can forgive myself. And then in one of the worst moments of my life I found you ,Sha're.You were pregnant, with a child of Apophis'. Anger, fear, wrath, enveloped me, then and now. I tried to help you, I delivered your son, neither Amaunet's son nor Apophis' son, Sha're's son. Shifu. And I fell in love with you again, forever, Sha're. And I lost you again...Until we met again. Until I found you, and lost you, this time forever. I can't find the words to describe the emptiness that had consumed my soul since you died, deeper than the intense feeling of loneliness that enveloped me since the day you were taken away from me, something I couldn't imagine possible. I have to repeat to myself every day that you're gone, that you will never return to me. At least I had the chance to say goodbye. Goodbye my love. <Ke'ra>I hadn't begun to recover from your loss when I found myself trapped in an impossible relationship. Ke'ra appeared in my life with no warning. She was sweet, beautiful, strong, and so much the opposite of you, Sha're, in every way, maybe because of that I was attracted to her. When all this happened I was alone. I was lost in my recent pain, and I just not wanted to fight against it. My soul was still crying for you and I felt alone with my pain, despite Jack, despite all my friends' company... I had lost the light of my life and I wasn't ... I think I wasn't ready for her. Only that Ke'ra wasn't Ke'ra, she couldn't be just a woman. I accepted who she was, but she couldn't. And I gave her the chance I didn't have, to forget.A deep sense of relief surprised me as she stepped out the gate. She wasn't for me and I wasn't for her, I wasn't prepared and she wasn't prepared. It was better for both of us that way.And when after a very difficult year I came across with my past, with Sarah, with my life with you, Sha're, kept it in a very warm and safe place. I thought I could afford what life deserved to me, whatever it is. But destiny plays dirty tricks with me.She was taken by a Goa'uld, and everything started again. My life seems a joke, all has to do with those dammed Goa'uld, but this time I will help Sarah, I won't let them take away anything else from me. It's like I lost you once more, but now there is a big difference, I'm different, and now I know you. Sha're, we were only together for a very short period of time, but it was enough, we loved for an entire life. And now I have the rest of my life, I will always remember you, my love, but my life has to go on, and now I have another goal in my future, I will find Sarah, it's a promise, one that I'm determined to accomplish. fin It's my first fic, please be gentle with me, feedback me with your ideas or comments, thanks. Many many thanks to Judy for doing the first beta you've done all the hard work, and to Carrie for finishing. And many many thanks to nausica for being there since the begginig of all. © August 6, 2001 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characterswho have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership.This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.
10335308	Need It the Most	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by ayn2390", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-17T00:00:00", "words": "5,964", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Insecure Katsuki Yuuri, Bodyswap, Fluff and Angst, almost all fluff, A little bit of angst", "Relationship": "Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Iceberg Skating Palace, Sochi, Russia It's double vision at first, the rink below splitting into two ---- the view of the crowd above splitting into two. Then flashes of rink-crowd-rink ---- crowd-rink. An explosion of a headache and a ---- burst of light behind the eyes ---- and then Victor is looking up at the crowd.It doesn't make sense. He's supposed to be sitting in the stands next to Chris. Except now he's on the ice, hands grasping the top of the boards, white ruffles around his wrists and that Italian coach is talking to him.He looks back up at the stands and... yes, he is still sitting there. He's seen himself in enough mirrors and televisions and photographs that he'd recognize himself anywhere: Silver hair, blue eyes, red and white team suit, terrified expression.To be fair, that last part is new.He glances down at himself. He's wearing some kind of shiny blue jacket. Was this what that Japanese skater who had just taken the ice had been wearing? Victor honestly hadn't been paying much attention. He had only come to watch the first group's free skates because he had nothing better to do.The longer he looks down at himself, the odder it feels. His body looks narrower than he's used to. His hands are smaller. Are his feet smaller, too?Is he in that Japanese skater's body right now? Is the Japanese skater in his body? Is this--Victor glances back up at his own body.--is this the Switch? Yuuri stares down at the ice. He can see himself still standing at the boards with Celestino. His own eyes, behind his own glasses, stare back up at him.They Switched. Yuuri Switched. With someone. He looks down at the body he's in. He'd never mistake it for his own. It's a man's body, but the limbs are too long, the hands too pale. He doesn't own a red and white warm-up suit.Yuuri stands up abruptly. Only to stumble over his own feet and fall back into his seat. A voice from beside him is saying something, but he can't hear over the ringing in his ears.He tries to stand again, but this time whoever is in his body gestures for him to stay put. Yuuri shakes his head at him. But then watches his own lips curve into a smirk.Whoever is down there winks at him.Winks.Yuuri gulps."I know Yuuri didn't make the best impression yesterday," the voice next to him says. Yuuri glances at him--at Christophe Giacometti. "But he's not normally that bad. We all know you're The Victor Nikiforov but you could at least stay and pretend to be interested."Yuuri looks back at the ice where the man in his body is talking to Celestino."I guess I am. Staying. And watching," Yuuri says. His voice comes out in a very different accent than he's used to hearing.And then it hits him. He turns his head sharply to Chris. "What did you just call me?" Victor gestures at the Japanese skater currently in his body to sit back down. When he sees him open his mouth to object, he winks back at him.How many people, after all, get to do something this romantic when they Switch with their soulmate?He starts to turn away when the other man's coach says, "Aren't you forgetting something?"Victor frowns. Do they have some sort of ritual before competing? A good luck sign or handshake that there is no chance Victor can imitate?But, no, the coach is holding out his hand."Glasses," he says.Victor reaches up to his face and, yes, apparently he is wearing glasses. He takes them off and--okay. He can't see. He glances up at the stands and can only make out a blur of white hair-red jacket where he'd last seen his own body."I'm actually going to keep them on this time." He replaces them on the bridge of his nose. His voice comes out in a different accent, but it's still English, at least."They're going to fall off and break during your first spin," the coach tells him, still holding out his hand. "I have offered many times to get you contacts, you know.""Right," Victor says. And sighs. He hands them over and looks back at the rink. At least he's able to make out the shape of it well enough to not skate into the boards. He supposes he doesn't need to read the advertisements or see every individual face in the crowd. Though it would have been nice to be able to see his own soulmate watching.He feels a heavy hand on his shoulder."Whatever happens," the coach says. "I'm proud of you. You made it to the Grand Prix Finals once and you can make it here again next year."As motivational speeches go, it's distinctly lacking. Victor would go with something more like, 'If you don't get yourself out of sixth place, I'll take responsibility by resigning as your coach.'But it's not like it matters right now."Don't be surprised if I do something different this time," Victor tells him."What?"Victor had never thought this would happen to him. Had never thought he would be desperate enough for his soul to call out so strongly to its mate that they literally switched bodies.But, apparently, he is.And, whoever this Japanese skater is whose soul had called back out to Victor's, Victor is going to love him and take care of him and give him everything he deserves.Starting with the skating he deserves. So, naturally, Victor stumbles and falls down.Apparently, skating in someone else's body takes getting used to.When Victor tries again, however, he manages to keep his balance. And, by the time he makes it across the rink, he's almost comfortable in this other man's skates."I have a special request for you," he announces as he skates up to the judges. "A minor change in my program."When Victor takes his position in the center of the ice, he hears, "And, first up is Yuuri Katsuki from Japan."Yuuri Katsuki.Yuuri Katsuki is his soulmate.The music starts. "Isn't that your free skate music?" Chris asks."Apparently," Yuuri mumbles as he rubs at his knee. There's an ache there he isn't used to feeling. He recognizes the starting pose for Victor's program. He just hasn't seen his own body in that position before."Ballsy move," Chris says. "You're all right with Yuuri skating your program? Did he ask you about it?""I--no, it's fine." Victor learned the lesson from earlier, so he takes the first jump as a double instead of a triple. Which is fortunate, because he barely gets the height he needs for that and the landing still isn't solid.He can feel the strength in Yuuri's body but the dynamics are different. Maybe it's just that he's shorter and his weight's centered lower in his body than Victor's used to.He doubles the second jump, too. And there's another thing, Yuuri doesn't have the upper body strength that Victor has. He doesn't know what quads Yuuri has, but he probably has at least one to have made it here. So his lighter frame and strength in his lower body must make up for that.On the third jump, Victor focuses on using his hips and thighs for the height and -- there it is -- he gets more than high enough to turn it into a triple.The step sequences and spins that follow are easy. Yuuri's body seems to need little direction from Victor for those.As he gets to the end, he finds he's not nearly as tired as he's used to. He might as well be barely halfway through the program for how his body's ready to keep going.So, on impulse, he substitutes his final jump. As much as he hates watching videos of himself skating, Yuuri has spent hours scrutinizing them frame by frame.He's spent far more hours than that watching Victor's skating.But Victor, skating in Yuuri's body, looks different than either of them. The first several jumps are unsure, landings less than steady. He starts to get the hang of it, though, and keeps better time with the music.By the end, even the triple jumps are smooth. And that's when Yuuri sees Victor start to build up speed. Yuuri knows before it happens that Victor's going to try a quad in his body.Yuuri is distantly aware of the sounds of shock and applause from the crowd."Since when can Yuuri do a quad flip?" Chris asks."I--uh." Yuuri knows this isn't good. Now people are going to expect him to be able to do a quad flip. So he points out, weakly, "He touched down?"Chris raises an eyebrow at him. "Not so ready to give up your signature jump?""No, it's not that!" Yuuri says. "I just--I need--"And he finds himself launching to his feet. He murmurs apologies as he steps past Chris and Michele, then runs down the steps as Victor skates towards the exit. Victor stays in the final position for a few seconds. He's panting but not as tired as he should be. Yuuri is strong and vital and this body skates like it was made for it. There's no reason Yuuri should be in last place. There's no reason he shouldn't be challenging Victor for golds in every competition.He lets go of his pose and looks out at the blurred crowd. He can't tell where Yuuri is except -- no, he can. He sees a red-white-silver-haired figure coming down the steps.Victor can't wait to meet him.He races for the exit and grabs Yuuri's blade protectors and glasses from the Italian coach without taking his eyes off Yuuri's -- his own -- figure slowly coming into focus.Victor feels a grin splitting his face and he really wants to kiss Yuuri. It's a very odd impulse to want to kiss his own face. But he can't wait to see Yuuri back in his own body."Hi," Victor says, looking up at where his own body stands before him. He was right about Yuuri being shorter than him."Uh, hi?" Yuuri says. His wide-eyed expression is strange to see on his own face, but it's better than the horror from earlier."It's very, very nice to meet you, Yuur--" he stops himself from finishing the name. There are people who could be listening in, including--"Victor, I apologize, I didn't realize Yuuri was planning to try to skate your program," Yuuri's coach says.Yuuri's staring at Victor. Victor raises his eyebrows at him."It's, uh--okay?" Yuuri says, not sounding at all convincing as Victor, except for the accent.Victor cuts in smoothly, assuring Yuuri's coach, "He gave me permission. You do like surprising people, right, Victor?""Right," Yuuri says quietly."We should go to the Kiss and Cry," Yuuri's coach says and hands him a black jacket. Victor catches the 'JSF' initials and he shrugs it on. Then he grabs Yuuri's arm, the sleeve of his own Olympic jacket under his hand. "Come with me?""I'm sure Victor has other things--""Yes," Yuuri interrupts. "I mean, yes. I'll come."Victor tugs Yuuri down to sit next to him. Yuuri's coach gives them both a strange look as he sits down on Victor's other side.Victor throws his arm around Yuuri's back. His own body seems bigger from the vantage of being in Yuuri's smaller one."People are staring," Yuuri whispers to Victor."Let them.""Do you--do you want to kiss me now?""Not yet," Victor tells him softly.Yuuri stiffens at his side. There's a strange tone in his voice when he says, "They're going to think we're together, anyways, sitting like this. I should wait for you somewhere else."Victor pulls back to look at him and opens his mouth to ask what Yuuri means. But then the announcer comes on."Yuuri Katsuki's free skate score is 153.23 with a total score of 237.23. Yuuri Katsuki is now in first place.""Well done, Yuuri," Yuuri's coach says, and claps him on the back as he stands up. "You need to go to the green room now.""Give me a minute. Victor and I need to talk.""What?" The coach's eyes flick over to Yuuri."Yes, we--talk. We need to talk," Yuuri stammers. Victor offers him a smile as they both stand up.He leads Yuuri into a deserted hallway near the skaters' back room."We should kiss now," Yuuri says quickly. "No one will see back here--""No," Victor tells him."No?""Not yet.""What? Don't you want to switch back?""Of course. I can't wait to see you," Victor says.Yuuri frowns at him."Actually, I don't have to wait, do I?" Victor realizes. "Do you think there's a bathroom around here with a mirror? Or, you know what, better idea--"He reaches into his own jacket but doesn't find anything. He frowns. Then realizes his own jacket is actually Yuuri's jacket. So he steps forward and reaches into the pocket of the jacket Yuuri's wearing and pulls out his phone."Take a picture of me. No, better idea, take a picture of us!" Victor steps close into his side. "You do it. Your arms are longer."But Yuuri isn't doing anything but staring at him.After a long, confusing moment, Yuuri says:"You don't know what I look like?"Yuuri looks sad and--oh. Oh, no. Of course Yuuri would know what Victor looks like. There probably isn't anyone in the skating world who doesn't. And Victor may have just admitted that he doesn't even know who Yuuri is."Mila thinks you're cute," Victor tells him desperately. At least he thinks so. Yesterday, she'd said that Yuri was очень симпатичный. At the time, Victor had been too disturbed to press for details, but that was when he thought there was only one Yuri. Victor adds, "And I know that Chris thinks you have an excellent--"Yuuri turns and starts to leave, but Victor grabs his arm before he can stalk off."No. Wait, Yuuri. I'm sorry. I'm a jerk, okay? But I'm going to be better for you. I promise."Yuuri just shakes his head, eyes trained on the ground. "You don't have to.""What does that mean?" Victor demands.Yuuri glances up. His blue eyes -- Victor's blue eyes -- are wet."I know I'm probably a disappointment," Yuuri says. "You should have had someone better. I'm just some dime-a-dozen Japanese skater. I shouldn't even be here on the same ice as you, let alone be your--I understand if you--I mean, you shouldn't feel obligated to be with me just because we're--""Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri, don't cry," Victor pleads as he watches a teardrop fall down his cheek. He pulls Yuuri closer. He feels a lot smaller than--himself--like this. So, instead of wrapping himself around Yuuri shoulders like he wants to, he throws his arms around his waist. "You're already the best thing that's ever happened. You're my soulmate. You could never be a disappointment. This is amazing!""Victor--""Come on, Yuuri, I dedicated my free skate to you, couldn't you tell?" Victor says. "I don't do that for just anyone."Yuuri takes a deep breath. Then shakes his head."I think technically that was my free skate, actually."Victor laughs and squeezes him tighter. He can feel Yuuri relax the smallest amount. Victor rests his forehead against his neck.After a long moment of silence, Yuuri asks, "Why don't you want to switch back yet?""Oh, right! Because you need to skate my program for me." Victor pulls back with a grin."What? Why?" Yuuri asks, eyes widening."Well, it's only fair, isn't it?" Victor winks at him."Stop winking with my face." Yuuri frowns. "And, Victor, you're about to win your fifth consecutive Grand Prix Final. All I'll do is get you a low score. You won't even medal.""Probably." Victor shrugs. "But you know when the Switch happens, right? When both soulmates need it the most?"Yuuri averts his eyes. "Right.""Do you think this would have happened right now if what I really needed was a fifth gold medal?" Yuuri sits in the bottom row and leans down to tie the skates Yakov Feltsman, Victor's coach, had handed him. He's never spoken to Yakov but he's seen him at the competitions with Georgi Popovich before. He's been intimidated by him anyways. Yakov is saying something to him in Russian. But, even if Yuuri could understand, he's not in any condition to answer right now.After Victor had left for the green room, taking his enthusiasm with him, Yuuri had found a restroom and stared at himself for a long time, trying to convince himself that this was just a dream. If it was a dream, then he'd wake up and his life might not be good but at least it would be familiar. At least he wouldn't have to wait around for Victor's inevitable rejection.Which, as soon as Victor started to actually get to know him, would be inevitable.And, maybe, if this was a dream, then Vicchan dying could be a dream, too.Cao Bin had stepped into the restroom just as Yuuri had felt the panic attack coming on. Yuuri had hurried out without saying anything and managed to find a stairwell to collapse in.The panic must have lasted a while because next thing he knew, he heard the announcement for the warmup for the final three skaters.But, even now, his hands are shaking too hard to properly tighten the laces.He suddenly sees a familiar-not-so-familiar black-haired figure come up to him."Hey," Victor says softly as he kneels before him. He takes the laces out of Yuuri's trembling hands. "Are you all right?""I'm fine," Yuuri lies."You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Victor tells him. He starts fixing the laces. "It's okay. You can kiss me right now."Yuuri takes a deep breath, and finds himself saying, "No. I want to."He realizes it's true. If there's a chance Victor actually wants him as his soulmate, it would make for a good memory. How many people can say they had the Switch at all, let alone were able to skate in the Grand Prix Final for each other?Victor's lips -- his own lips -- spread into a smile. God, it's not fair. Victor looks better in Yuuri's body than Yuuri ever has."All right," Victor tells him. He holds his hand out for Yuuri to help him up. He doesn't drop it, though, once Yuuri's standing. Instead, he laces their fingers together.Yuuri can't remember the last time he's held hands with anyone. Now that he thinks about it, Victor has found a way to keep touching him ever since his free skate ended. A traitorous part of himself dares to wish that he'll get more of this.A lot more of this.Victor talks as he leads him to the rink entrance. "Take it slow at first. You'll have to adjust to a different body."Yuuri nods."My center of gravity is higher than you're used to," Victor says. Then grins slyly and adds, "I don't have your amazing thighs."Yuuri feels his cheeks flush."Victor, there isn't much time left for the warm-up.""Right. Okay," Victor says. "You can't depend on your lower body as much for jump height as you're probably used to. But my upper body is stronger than yours, you can use your arms more for height.""I'm going to fall and hurt you, aren't I?" Yuuri asks. "Are you sure you want me to--""You'll be fine," Victor says with more confidence than he should probably have. "Remember, Yuuri, at very worst you're the sixth top skater in the world. I don't know what happened yesterday, but I think you're probably even better than that. You can do this."Yuuri stares at him. Victor squeezes his hand before releasing it."Now, go on." Victor urges him gently into the rink. Victor is right. At first, Yuuri feels like he's going to fall just skating in a straight line. But, a logical part of his mind reminds him that, even if he does, he knows how to fall without hurting himself.So, he just tries to ignore that everyone's eyes must be on him right now, wondering why Victor is skating like a nervous beginner.It gets easier as he goes on. He starts a more serpentine path around JJ and Chris. Tries a bunny hop without a problem, then a single toeloop. A double loop and a double lutz. He tries for a triple right as the end of warm-up is announced. He stumbles on the landing but doesn't fall.Victor's still there as he skates towards the exit. Yakov is walking back from the judges' station, looking a little exasperated but, oddly, not all that surprised to see what must look like Yuuri handing Victor his skateguards."I'll be back after Chris takes my place," Victor tells Yuuri softly. He runs a hand down Yuuri's upper arm. "Ask Yakov if you need anything, all right?""You're very sure I'll get kicked out of third place," Yuuri teases him, feeling his own lips curve up for the first time since they'd switched bodies. Actually, for the first time since they got to Sochi, if he's honest. Getting on the ice made him feel more grounded, even if it had been in Victor's body."Don't take offense, Yuuri, but I'm hoping so," Victor tells him, keeping his voice soft even as he laughs. "I don't want to spend any more time away from you.""Oh," Yuuri says.Victor gives his arm a squeeze before he walks away.Yuuri sits down just as Chris skates to the center of the rink."They have your music queued up," Yakov tells him in English as he takes a seat next to him."Victor told you?""Victor's not always easy, you know," Yakov says. Then he shakes his head. "Hardly ever easy.""Okay?""He's worth giving a chance to, though," Yakov tells him. "You're the first thing he's looked forward to in a long time.""He might change his mind once he gets to know me," Yuuri says.Yakov shakes his head. "Don't be dense, Katsuki. He's probably half in love with you already.""But he doesn't know me."On the ice, Chris is already in his finishing pose and Yuuri realizes he doesn't remember anything that just happened in his routine."Look, Katsuki, I'll tell you what Victor told me and you can decide if he knows you or not."Yuuri bites his lip.Yakov must take that as agreement somehow, since he continues, "He says you're shy and self-conscious and anxious -- and apparently he thinks that's adorable. He says you care about other people too much at your own expense. He says you're obviously determined and confident enough to have made it this far, though. Is he right?""Uh, I guess so." Yuuri is susprised that Victor got that much out of just a few minutes with him."He said he doesn't care what you look like," Yakov says. "But I told him you were exactly his type.""What is his type?" Yuuri asks curiously."Isn't it exactly you? By definition of the word soulmate?"Oh. Yuuri is starting to feel hope that Victor might end up liking him after all."Look, don't take it personally that Vitya didn't know who you were," Yakov tells him soberly. "He hasn't cared--or paid attention to--much else but his poodle lately."Yuuri feels his chest tighten at that. But it's just then that that Victor drops down next to him and hugs his arms around Yuuri."Yuuuri," Victor-in-Yuuri's-body whines into his shoulder. "I missed you. Did you miss me?"Yuuri opens his mouth. His first instinct to deflect the question. But he thinks about what Yakov said, about how unhappy Victor's been. And he thinks, the worst that can happen is his own embarrassment. The best is that it might make Victor a little bit happier.So Yuuri says, seriously, "I think I've been missing you for a long time."Victor pulls away, but leaves a hand on his back. He looks shocked and Yuuri steels himself. But instead of a rejection, or a laugh, Victor says, "Yuuri Katsuki, I really want to kiss you right now."Yuuri can't help it. He giggles. "Then you'd have to skate your own program."Victor pouts and says, "Fine."Out on the ice, JJ's routine is starting. Yuuri, feeling empowered by the last few minutes, leans down to rest his head on Victor's shoulder. He traces a finger over the muscle of his leg."You have amazing thighs, you know that?" Victor says."Um, you did say something like that before," Yuuri tells him, feeling his cheeks heat again."I'm probably going to keep saying that. Every day. Multiple times a day," Victor says."And I, um, probably won't mind that," Yuuri confesses. He's staring out at the ice but not registering any of JJ's program.Victor gives him a big grin. It looks unusual, but also oddly beautiful, on Yuuri's own face."Good," Victor says. And then holds out the hand that's not currently rubbing circles into Yuuri's back. "You have pretty hands, too. Your fingers are so cute.""I didn't know fingers could be cute," Yuuri says."Neither did I," Victor says. "Your hand's going to look so good with a ring on it."Before Yuuri can comprehend what that means, Victor continues."Oh, and your stomach." He lays his hand over his--Yuuri's--middle. "It's just a little bit soft--""Oh my god." Yuuri buries his face in his hands. "Please don't tell me that every day.""Why?" Victor protests. "It feels so nice."Yuuri drops his hands from his face, just in time to see JJ skating off the ice. His heart starts to pick up and he sits up straight. It's his turn as soon as the score is announced.Victor rubs at his back again as if he can sense Yuuri's anxiety returning. But he doesn't talk about it, just says, sounding regretful, "That's all I can tell about how you look from here.""Oh," Yuuri says. It seems odd, when Yuuri knows exactly what the body he's in looks like. He's been staring at photos of Victor Nikiforov on his walls for what seems like his whole life. "I'm nothing special, though. I don't want you to get your hopes up.""Oh, Yuuri," Victor says, dropping his forehead onto Yuuri's shoulder. "I know you're wrong already. I'm going to have to tell you that every day, too."The official standing next to the rink entrance gestures at him."Mr Nikiforov, you can enter the rink now.""Go on," Victor tells him.Yuuri nods nervously and takes off his skate guards. He hands them to Victor again and steps onto the ice.Once he's on the ice, Yuuri sees Victor has joined Yakov over in the coaches' area. He seems oblivious to the strange looks he's getting, but Yuuri supposes they've both been getting looks like that all day.Yuuri skates over to them."Don't skate too well," is Yakov's advice for him. "You'll create a scandal if you medal. Get Victor down to fourth at least."Yuuri actually laughs a little, because that is not going to be a problem. Then he feels Victor grab his hand. He turns to him and Victor leans in, touching their foreheads together."Skate for me," Victor tells him. "Not for anyone else."Yuuri meets his eyes. "Don't take your eyes off me, then." Victor watches as Yuuri -- in Victor's body -- gets into his starting pose, silver hair falling over his eyes.Yuuri's music starts playing.The practice skate means that Yuuri doesn't falter at the beginning like Victor had. He's doubling his jumps and he travels on his spins. But Victor's seen plenty of footage of himself skating and he's never seen his body move so fluidly with the music before.In the second half, Yuuri starts adding triples as he obviously grows in confidence. Victor realizes, as Yuuri gets into position for an axel for what is probably timed as the last jump of his program.Yuuri touches down on the triple axel, just like Victor had on his quad flip, and it makes Victor laugh.Yakov shoots him a look, but Victor's too busy running over to the rink entrance to respond.The official looks stunned as Victor shoves his blade protectors at him. Yuuri is just lowering his arms and turning his gaze to the exit, when he spots Victor.Victor grins and skates out onto the ice. Yuuri watches wide-eyed as Victor-in-his-body skates towards him. He feels his eyes widen even more as he realizes Victor isn't slowing down fast enough. Before Yuuri can move to the side, Victor's grabbing him by the waist and twirling them around together. Luckily, Yuuri has played around with pairs moves with Yuuko and Phichit and is able to meet him in the spin.Victor's grinning up at him with Yuuri's own face as they slow to a stop. Yuuri thinks the crowd is silent, or maybe that's just him unable to register anything but Victor here. He's about to ask what Victor's doing, when Victor's hands come up to cup his face. Yuuri leans forward and Victor leans up and --Everything starts to blur into double ---- Yuuri, Victor, the rink, the crowd ---- flashes of sparkling blue eyes ---- of big brown eyes and then ---- there's an explosion of a headache and a ---- burst of light ---- before the world steadies itself again. It leaves Victor looking down into big, brown eyes. Black hair that's slightly askew. A cute nose and rounded cheeks.Yuuri's hands are still on his face. They're trembling in a way they hadn't been just a moment ago when they were still Victor's."Yuuri, you have no idea. My soulmate is so, so beautiful." Victor's heart is aching."Victor?" It's Yuuri's own voice this time, own accent. And Victor's going to get to hear Yuuri say his name just like that for a lifetime.He grabs Yuuri's waist and kisses him again.He can hear the roar of a crowd in the distance. He doesn't care. He gets to have this. He pulls Yuuri closer. One hour later Iceberg Skating Palace, Sochi, Russia"So, rumor is you've both been disqualified from the competition," one of the reporters says.Yuuri twists to look up at Victor. Victor hasn't stopped smiling since they switched back on the ice. He also hasn't stopped touching Yuuri. Like right now. Even as they have at least four cameras trained on them, Victor is hugging him from behind, arms tight around Yuuri's waist and fingers tangled together.Yuuri's beginning to wonder less and less if Victor won't want to stay with him. It's hard to hold onto doubts when Victor's told him at least fifteen times how lucky he is, and how beautiful Yuuri is."It's not a rumor, it's official. We've both been disqualified," Victor tells them proudly."Perhaps you could comment as to why, then?""I'd be happy to," Victor says. Yuuri feels him rest his chin on his shoulder. "Yuuri Katsuki here is my soulmate."There's a buzz among the reporters."Is it true, then, that you experienced the Switch and skated your routines as each other?" another reporter asks."What was it like skating in someone else's body?""How do you feel about giving up your chances of a fifth consecutive gold at the Grand Prix Final?""What are your plans for the rest of the season?""That's an easy one," Victor says. Yuuri frowns up at him. He wouldn't think so. They haven't had a chance to talk about anything like that. But Victor trains in St Petersburg and he trains in Detroit. They live half a world away from each other and they're going to compete in entirely different competitions. That's assuming Yuuri even makes it past Nationals and, with how he performed here in Sochi, that's far from a given."I'll be beside Yuuri as his coach when he gets gold at the World Championships!" Victor announces."What?" Yuuri asks, stunned, over the murmurs of reporters.But Victor just squeezes his arms around him. "Let's go get khinkali!""We're in the middle of an interview," Yuuri reminds him. "And since when are you my coach?"Victor has already dragged him almost as far as the front doors by then, though."And, also," Yuuri can't help but point out. "The banquet starts in less than an hour.""Does that mean you don't want to go on a date with me?" Victor turns to Yuuri with a pout.Yuuri rolls his eyes as he tries not to smile. Victor is, in many ways, nothing like he had imagined. And yet so much better."Victor," Yuuri asks him seriously. "Will you be my date to the GPF banquet?""Only if you agree that I'm your coach," Victor says without missing a beat. One month later Ice Castle, Hasetsu, Japan"Try again," Victor tells him."I can't do it," Yuuri pants, after his uncountable failed attempt at properly landing a quad flip."I did it in your body, remember?""Yes, but you're Victor Nikiforov," Yuuri grumbles."And you're Yuuri Katsuki," Victor tells him and pokes him in the shoulder. "I've felt what your body can do, remember? You're going to be the first to land a quad axel.""Can I work on those, then?" Yuuri asks desperately."Yuuri, what will people say about me as a coach if you do a quad axel before a flip?" Three months later Yoyogi National Gymnasium, Tokyo, JapanYuuri crosses his arms around himself, leaning forward. He's nervous enough he feels like he could throw up. Even Victor, draped over his back with his arms hugging him tight around his shoulders, aren't the comfort they usually are. Victor's murmuring something in his ear that Yuuri can't understand."We have Yuuri Katsuki's scores! His free skate score is 218.24! His total score is 322.73! Yuuri Katsuki is in first place!"Yuuri is still staring numbly up at the scoreboard when Victor jerks him up by his arms, whirls him around and kisses him. It's probably a more passionate kiss than should be allowed in public, let alone on TV. But this wouldn't be the first time they'd gotten censored."What was that for?" Yuuri asks him."You're in first place.""Yes?""You won," Victor says."But--""You're the last skater.""Oh," Yuuri says, dazed. "I won.""You won gold," Victor confirms with a cheeky grin. "That means you have to marry me.""Right--wait, what?""Oh, did I forget to ask you?" Victor strokes a hand through Yuuri's hair. "You know how forgetful I am. Well, in any case, we were going to get married if you won gold.""Uh, Victor? I think I can only deal with one revelation at a time right now," Yuuri says."We'll need some time to plan the wedding, but the medal ceremony's in a few minutes. Maybe you should deal with that one first.""Right," Yuuri says faintly. Then shakes his head. "I won World's.""Yes," Victor confirms, eyes glinting in amusement.Yuuri looks at Victor for a long moment, then tells him, "Our rings should be gold.""Naturally," Victor agrees.
10314281	Warm	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Abel (Fire Emblem), Cain (Fire Emblem)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by dreamsdark", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-15T00:00:00", "words": "1,708", "Additional Tags": "Hurt/Comfort, why does cain keep getting hurt please stop", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Abel & Cain (Fire Emblem), Abel/Cain (Fire Emblem)", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Fire Emblem: Shin Ankoku Ryuu to Hikari no Ken \| Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon, Fire Emblem Series", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	There were few things worse than being confined to the med tent. He couldn’t train, couldn’t move, couldn’t do much of anything. You’d think because of that, Cain would try to avoid it. Try as he might, though, he ended up back there after almost every battle. Maybe he was cursed.Still, his wounds were usually something that only needed some quick aid, and he was hardly in there for more than a day. This time, however, was different. He wakes to Julian glaring, a sure sign of Lena overexerting herself with healing. “Don’t move, I’ll get Lena.” Cain nods, not that Julian stayed long enough to see it. He doesn't feel hurt, though. Moving his left leg was fine, right leg fine, left arm—A blinding shock of pain courses through him, and it’s only by biting down on his tongue that he manages not to scream. There…it was…“Didn’t he tell you not to move?” Lena rushes to his side, staff ready with Julian still glaring at him over her shoulder. She’s cautious when she undoes the bandages, but every little twitch of Cain’s shoulder still hurts a considerable amount. “It’s…I could heal it more, but I still need to…”“I can deal with a little pain.” He covers up a wince with a smile. Ugh, he could taste blood now. He really should’ve listened.“If you insist…”“You shouldn’t overwork yourself,” Julian interjects. Cain nods, hoping Lena doesn’t notice the pained gasp that comes with even that tiny movement.“I’ll at least redress it.” A white light illuminates the tent for a brief moment. “That should help with the pain, first.”“I told you I could—”“You’re a terrible liar,” Julian states flatly. Wait, wasn’t he just…?“Still, you do have to save your strength. I can take care of this,” a new voice says.“Abel?” Lena turns around.“Abel!” Julian jumps, startled.“Abel…” Cain strains his neck to see him. His arm does hurt less—but he still feels Lena still shouldn’t have wasted her precious healing magic just for that.“If it’s just dressing a wound, I can do that.”“Oh, will you? Thank you!” She yawns unwittingly, then blushes. “Really, you don’t know how much this helps…”“Then maybe you should rest,” Julian stresses as they leave the tent.All Cain can focus on is Abel. Huh, he’s not in his armor…how long have I been out? ”Why are you here, anyway?”“…I live here?” A quick look confirms that this is indeed their tent, just with a cot moved in for him. Cain wonders how he missed it. A coil of guilt twists in his stomach—that must mean the med tent was full, yet Lena still came to heal him. If only he was better…“Anyway, let me have your arm.” Instead of waiting for Cain to turn like a decent person, Abel just grabs his arm and pulls it towards him. Another flash of pain overwhelms him, stronger than the first one even dulled by Lena’s magic. It feels like someone’s poured a bucket of hot coals onto his shoulder, and Cain can’t bear it—he screams out, eyes slamming shut.It’s as over as quickly as it started. Cain protects his injured arm as best as he can without moving it, which is to say, not very well. Even his other arm is trembling from the shock.“It hurts that much?” Cain can’t actually see Abel from his current position, so he settles for scowling at a spot on the ground. “Yes, you ass.” He blinks angrily—he’d actually teared up, how pathetic. Abel would never let him live it down.“…Ah.” He can’t quite place the tone of his voice, and when Abel moves so they face each other, his expression is unreadable. “Stay still, then.” Surprisingly, there’s no comment on his wet eyes.Cain grits his teeth, bracing himself. But the pain never comes, as Abel kneels and starts cleaning his wound so gently he barely feels anything. It’s actually kind of…nice, so he lets himself relax a bit…“Oy, stay awake.” Abel snaps his fingers in front of his face. “I don’t know if sleeping so much is good for you.”Cain grumbles but does as told, watching the careful way Abel works. So focused… For some reason, his face heats up. Even as Abel applies the salve, Cain feels nothing worse than the usual burn. Perhaps it’s Lena’s magic, but he’s willing to bet that’s not all.“Are you sick?” Crap, he noticed. Abel presses a cool hand to his forehead, and Cain can’t help but lean into it. “It’s a bit warm,” he confirms, frowning. “But we’ll deal with that later. Come forward a bit, let me see your back.” “Right,” he hisses as the movement jolts his arm—again. It’s bearable, but still. Abel is frowning once more, deep in thought. “Something wrong?” Cain asks.Abel makes a noncommittal sound, stepping behind him and running his fingers down his back. Cain shivers. “Cold?”“A—a little.” Cain feels like he’s burning up, actually. His skin prickles where Abel had touched it.“Well, I don’t see anything serious, just some bruises. So…” Abel steps back. “You’ll have to lift your arm in a bit.” He starts by bandaging a smaller cut on his arm, then starts on his shoulder. “Sorry about this…” Every inch Cain’s shoulder moves sends a fresh wave of pain through his body. “Gods…what…” he manages through gritted teeth. What happened… Whatever it was, Cain would very much like it to never happen again.Abel works as quickly as he can without hurting him further, which is actually quite fast. “Heh, maybe you should look into healing,” Cain remarks as he finishes the final touches. Completely ignoring him, Abel goes digging through their supplies for…something. Cain cranes his neck to try and see, but instead of getting a glimpse, he yelps from the pain caused by twisting his shoulder and almost slides off the cot.“Can’t leave you alone for a second.” Irritation colors Abel’s voice, along with that same strange emotion he’d seen before. “At least you didn’t ruin your bandages…”Concern.Of course that was it.“And for your curiosity, I was only trying to get you something to eat…hm?”Warmth blooms in his chest, almost uncomfortable. Should his heart be beating so fast?“You’re flushed again.” Cain presses his forehead against the hand Abel places on it, and even he notices the movement this time. “You really must be feverish.”“Are—are you actually worried?” Actually, the warmth is becoming stifling now—he has to say something. Of course, it’s the wrong thing.Abel looks absolutely broken. “Did you think I wouldn’t care?” His voice cracks, like everything he’d been suppressing (probably for Cain's sake) was about to boil over. “You nearly died!”“I—what? No, no, of course not!” Dammit, why can’t I get close enough! “I just, the battle, everything happened, and I…forgot? I mean, um, I don’t…actually know what happened, exactly…” He’d meant not to admit to that, but Cain was never too good at not saying things. What he does manage is to grab onto Abel’s top and pull him down closer…and then forgets what he was meaning to do after. Abel blinks, eyes wide from surprise. “You…forgot.” He’s calmed down… Abel should never look that hurt. Especially not because of him. ”Maybe that’s for the best.” He stands up straight, but he’s closer than before, at least. His brow furrows. “Or maybe you’ll just be as reckless as before.”“Then what happened?”“That.” He gestures to Cain’s bandaged shoulder. “A little more to the right, and the lance would’ve…” He swallows, then takes a shaky breath. “Your armor’s probably the only reason you’re still here. Gods, it looked like it was going to go straight through…”Cain doesn’t really know what to say to that. Abel won’t meet his eyes, gripping the bedpost tighter than he probably realizes. That close… At least he would’ve died in the service of Lord Marth. I won’t run again.“Please don’t say that.” Abel looks suddenly, unbelievably exhausted.“I-I didn’t mean to.” He really didn’t mean to say it out loud. Especially not if it would make Abel look so sad. “Just…”“Death is death. No matter how you die, you still end up dead. There’s no coming back from that.”“…yes. I, I…know that.” He knows it doesn’t sound very convincing, but Abel accepts it.“Now, stay still.” He’s back in a moment, with…bread and cheese? “You have to eat something. Don’t expect me to make soup for you.” He cuts it himself, which Cain would object to if one of his arms wasn’t currently out of commission. “Open up.”Okay, that’s crossing a line. ”I can feed myself!” he splutters.Abel simply raises an eyebrow. “You can’t even stay still properly.” He starts his retort, and but Abel just takes the opportunity to shove the bread in his mouth. “Don’t bother.”Cain chews indignantly. He’s not even that hungry, but Abel isn’t wrong… There’s no point being mad at someone who won’t even acknowledge it. Besides, he’s probably…trying…“Hey, don’t fall asleep just yet.” Abel shakes his shoulder—the good one—lightly, just barely enough to bring him back to consciousness. “Finish first.”Cain mumbles something even he doesn’t understand. The food is cold, but he feels inexplicably warm inside. And the reason… Perhaps it’s Abel. He blinks, looking around the room. Did he leave?“I’m right here.” Oh, he’d just gone back to do…something. He’s close again, though. That’s all that matters. “I’ll leave now, so you can rest.”“…Stay.” There’s something else he should say, isn’t there? “Please.” That doesn’t feel entirely right, but it works.“Alright, alright. Only since you asked so nicely.” The words feel like they should be mocking, but Abel sounds sincere. At least, it means he’ll stay.His vision loses focus as sleep overtakes him, but Cain thinks he sees Abel smile, small but still warm. Familiar. Abel should always be smiling.“…I wouldn’t want to leave, anyway.” Of course it’s Abel.
10352481	Doubt and Faith	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Stargate SG-1", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Jmas", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2003-10-02T00:00:00", "words": "4,498", "Additional Tags": "Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "StargateFan Archive Collection", "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 }	Stargate SG-1 FanFiction - Doubt and Faith Doubt and Faith Written by Jmas Comments? Write to us at [email protected] NOTE: This story contains spoilers for Meridian (foreshadowing) and Menace (after the fact), as well as names from many fifth season eps. I chose understanding, and in the end, I chose comfort before the events of Meridian. After the events of seasons four and five, I felt Daniel and Jack both deserved it…as did we. SUMMARY: Menace tag PG [HC] [M] Doubt is a pain too lonely to know that faith is his twin brother. -- Kahlil Gibran This story contains spoilers for Meridian (foreshadowing) and Menace (after the fact), as well as names from many fifth season eps. I chose understanding, and in the end, I chose comfort before the events of Meridian. After the events of seasons four and five, I felt Daniel and Jack both deserved it…as did we. Silence thundered through the gateroom, seemingly shaking the walls and rippling through the hearts of those watching helplessly from the observation window. The gateroom itself was a tableau of undirected helplessness as two members of SG1 stood, or more properly leaned, together at the base of the ramp. Major Carter and Teal’c had arrived several minutes before the other two, their message inarguably clear: evacuate the gateroom and let no one inside, half of SG1 was coming in ‘hot’. The simple word carried the implication of a thousand nameless horrors faced daily by the SG teams; viral and bacterial contagions, radiations known and unknown, things even more insidious - even more deadly. The bottom line was they were, essentially, helpless to do more than contain the danger and sometimes not even that. Sergeant Davis watched as his commander set his jaw and stilled his mute reaction to the state of two of the most important people in the Stargate Program. It was hard not to react – only years of training kept Davis in his seat. Colonel O’Neill and Doctor Jackson looked like hell – or at least, like they’d just returned from it. Brownish matter covered their bodies to such a degree Davis knew only those closest to the two men would be able to tell the two men apart. Doctor Jackson’s glasses were missing, and Colonel O’Neill’s trademark P90 was likewise gone. Focusing harder, Davis realized both of them had identical looks of controlled panic in their eyes. Whatever had happened had been bad – and was likely to get a lot worse. The general had finally recovered with an effort Davis doubted many would even have noticed. Only those who had served with Hammond would realize the clenched hands and tight lines around his horrified eyes were more than the reaction of a very strong commanding officer. Only someone who knew him well would see the dread in the general’s eyes as he asked his premiere team for a situation report. As the colonel and the archaeologist staggered to the ramp steps and sat down heavily, Major Carter and Teal’c arrived in the observation room fresh from decontamination. Davis knew they would have been cleared completely before being allowed to come here and breathed a sigh of relief – two less friends to worry about. Leaving only the two men who sat below them, leaning into one with a visible exhaustion that notched Davis’ worry levels up several settings. It just wasn’t normal for either Colonel O’Neill or Doctor Jackson to react this way. There were no jokes, no dreadful puns, no looks of reassurance or easing that would otherwise expel the funereal aspect they presented. “Major Carter?” The general’s voice revealed, at least to those who know him, the depth of his concern. The major’s pale face flinched once, her deep frown and hesitation preparing them for the worst even before she could speak. “It was a trap, sir…in the temple. Daniel figured it out, but it was too late…” Teal’c nodded grim affirmation, eyes focused down into the gateroom. “Major Carter and I had left the temple to explore the perimeter. There came the sound of a small explosion. When we returned to the interior, a glass wall separated us from Colonel O’Neill and Daniel Jackson even as the - substance poured out upon them from the walls and ceiling. We were unable to aid them.” The big man’s hands extended in front of him, mutely expressing the helplessness he clearly still felt. Doctor Jackson looked up from where he sat, and Davis realized the microphone in front of him was still on and had carried the entire conversation down to the two victims. “From what I had time to read, the substance is supposed to disable intruders and make them…’defenseless’. “ The young scientist’s tone was as weary and grim as Davis could ever remember hearing it. Major Carter nodded at her colleagues, a slight smile of sympathetic pain twinging on her lips before she turned back to the general. “We’re certain it’s some kind of drug, sir. As Daniel said, it’s supposed to incapacitate the victim, but we didn’t have time for him to translate any further. If…when...he just needs time to figure out the rest.” Sergeant Davis swallowed as the major’s usually impeccable control nearly broke. There was a lot to be done, and he had the feeling there wasn’t much time. Finally having a working understanding of what they were dealing with, General Hammond started giving orders, the practical familiarity of procedure providing a refuge against the fear and horror of what might yet come. Davis watched as the general, the major and the usually stoic Jaffa reached deep into that place where all good soldiers retreated when reality was far too real and action was necessary. And they had to act - now - before it was too late.~~Jack watched Daniel rub his temple absently for the tenth time in as many minutes while he never once took his eyes off the laptop screen in front of him, never once stopped scribbling on the legal pad under his other hand. They’d been locked in the isolation room for over seven hours now, after being poked, prodded, and made to give ungodly amounts of bodily fluids that were somehow supposed to tell Fraiser what was wrong with them and how to fix it. Sort of like what Daniel was doing...only louder, more intrusive and far more embarrassing. Communal showers were a given in the military, but what he and Daniel had been subjected to was far worse. An hour of scrubbing, first alone and then with the aid of hazmat- suited male orderlies who dispassionately scrubbed away at their skin as if trying to remove as many layers as humanly possible without the aid of a knife. They’d emerged pink and raw into the hands of a similarly suited Fraiser, who withdrew what seemed like gallons of blood before guiding them into the Iso room and leaving them alone without so much as her usual words of comfort and hope. Which hadn’t helped Jack’s state of mind at all. Daniel’s gear had already been in place, providing the scientist with an outlet for the rampant fear Jack was sure he shared. But even without a distraction, Jack knew Daniel would be handling things better. That’s just how Daniel was. The focused concentration of the man sitting barefoot on the bed beside him - with his hair still spiked from the shower and in loose hospital scrubs looking like nothing so much as a kid who was fighting his bed time for all he was worth - made Jack smile. He knew Daniel was tired, and he had more than a passing suspicion that the headache he was experiencing was likely doubled in Daniel’s case as he fought to concentrate past it. There was no way to know if the headache was a sign of things to come or simply the culmination of an ages-long day, full of fear, panic and the very real possibility of dying. The temple seemed so far away now, the normalcy even of the Iso room making a centuries-old booby trap seem so impossibly distant and unreal. The food cooling untouched on the trays by the door, Daniel’s driven translation, the drafty room with its sterile smells, and its too white walls and blankets and furniture all conspired to keep Jack from allowing himself to let go of the reality and forget, if only for a moment, that they could be dead by morning. Jack sighed and rolled out of his bed to retrieve a bottle of water and another supply of Tylenol, the only thing Fraiser would allow them to take until her tests were complete. Stopping beside Daniel, Jack intercepted the younger man’s hand on yet another pass across his forehead, placing two of the pills in his hand instead. Daniel stopped looked at what he held, nodded thanks before dry-swallowing the pills and going back to work. Jack shook his head knowing he should probably say something, encourage Daniel to take a break. But they were racing against time, against whatever was even now working its way through their bloodstreams awaiting who knew what flashpoint of infection or infiltration to bring them down. There was no time to waste. He knew it. Daniel knew it. Fraiser knew it. Just as there was no point in trying to deflect Daniel from his steady purpose. There was no choice, and all of them knew it. Choiceless was not a state Jack was comfortable with. He hated it in fact. He hated even more knowing even if Daniel didn’t have the translation to occupy him, they would still be sitting in silence, the distance between them having grown so pervasive since Rees’ shooting that they really didn’t have much to say to one another outside work anymore. It sucked. Jack knew Daniel understood why he’d done what he’d done. After having his wrist set, Daniel had been given a full report on what had been going on elsewhere in the SGC while he’d been trying to talk sense into the emotionally unstable robot. They would never know if Daniel had been right in thinking Rees was about to stop her toys or if Carter had called it correctly that the replicators were testing out their independence. The fact remained that time and the self-destruct countdown had been against them, and they had been left just as choiceless then as they were now. Daniel had said he understood, and Jack had no doubt that was the truth - Daniel never lied - but the fact remained a distance had grown up between them Jack hated. Life had dealt them one blow after another over the past year, so many difficult and nearly impossible choices setting them at odds in ways Jack had never wanted or needed. Daniel was one of the closest friends Jack had ever had. They’d seen each other through kinds of hell no one should ever have to go through. Theirs had never been an easy way, but it had worked. Now though… All Jack knew was he hated what had come between them, and he missed the days when he could just look at Daniel to know what the younger man was thinking and feeling. He hadn’t been able to do that in a very long time, and he missed it. Missed knowing there was one person in the world who could do it for him as well. There’d been a comfort in it, even when he and Daniel were at odds - the easy knowledge of familiarity and understanding that transcended individual foibles and let them do that thing they did that had won them so many friends and enemies all over the galaxy. They’d balanced one another, complimented one another, and they had worked. They didn’t work anymore, and Jack hated it. They did the job, yes. But the differences in the methods were like the differences between a kid’s finger painting and a Renaissance masterwork. They’d lost the spark, and Jack wanted it back…. “Me too…” Jack turned over in the bed, not sure he’d heard the quiet whisper, or what it meant. He hadn’t spoken aloud. He knew he hadn’t…. Daniel was still scribbling away, acting as if he’d never spoken, acting as if he hadn’t just echoed Jack’s thoughts. Jack scrubbed a hand over his face, the headache growing fiercer by the moment. Maybe it had been a dream. Maybe he wanted it so bad, wanted to know Daniel felt this distance and hated it just as much as he did so badly that his tired mind had supplied something that wasn’t really there. Weird. Daniel was rubbing his head again, and Jack noticed how his friend’s hand shook as he attempted to continue taking notes. The headache seemed to be progressing similarly for both of them, and Jack couldn’t pretend anymore that it was just a coincidence. Whatever they’d been exposed to, it was having an effect - and it was growing worse as time went on. Damn, this sucks…. Jack forced himself up, noting the unsteadiness in limbs that only minutes ago had seemed so reliable. Their grace time was up; he was sure of it, and they really were racing the clock and their own bodies now. Moving to sit beside Daniel, Jack raised an eyebrow, asking without asking what Daniel had discovered so far. A headshake was the only answer he received. Not enough. And this time Jack didn’t need a translation to understand Daniel’s answer. By Fraiser’s continued absence, he figured her news wasn’t any better. And he knew Daniel knew what it meant as well. With a sympathetic smile, Jack simply forgot the distance, forgot he hadn’t been capable of casually touching Daniel in what seemed like ages, and reached out a hand to rub the nape of the other man’s neck in support, encouragement, and plain apology. And his world exploded. He was falling headfirst into darkness, a familiar darkness…. Daniel. Sadness and pain, loss and loneliness, isolation and doubt. Doubt of his own worth and contribution. It was Daniel, but a Daniel undermined in a way Jack would never have suspected possible, would never have allowed if he’d only known… The chasm between them had never seemed wider - and Jack had never wanted anything more than to cross it at that moment and never let it grow up between them again.~~ Daniel had been aware of Jack’s scrutiny throughout the long day of sublimating his own doubts, fears and pain in order to get the job done. It seemed like he’d been doing a lot of that lately - getting the job done no matter what the cost. Rees had been the final straw, not that Jack had killed her but that Daniel had failed. Too many failures, too many people suffering as a result of them, and Daniel was tired. Soul-weary and hurting but unable and unwilling to open himself up for inspection to the man he’d always been able to turn to before. Too much time, too much distance, and too many things had been said and done for them to go back. Or so Daniel believed. And his belief hadn’t been alleviated by Jack’s floundering attempts to bridge the gaps between them by way of his own guilt. They were a mess… Both driven down the wrong road by circumstances and their own self-involvement, until it had gotten to the point neither of them knew the way back anymore - and neither of them was about to admit they were lost. So they remained apart. Continued to deny the need to connect on the myriad of levels that had always defined them - but had not in so long… It was getting increasingly hard to focus on the job at hand, the characters on the screen insisted in wavering just as his weary brain tried to get a handle on their meanings. The headache didn’t help, clouding his thoughts in still more layers of confusion and despair. Everything was counting on his success. Obviously Janet wasn’t having any luck via her methods. All he’d managed so far was more of the same things he already knew - the drug, or whatever it was, would leave the temple’s enemies defenseless. Nonspecific as hell and just as useless. There had to be more and he had to find it soon. They were running out of time. Seemed like they’d been running out of time for far longer than this latest crisis. They were putting out an awful lot of energy for very little return, and more and more it seemed like they were failing. It wasn’t just Rees - Chaka, Faxon, Elliot, Sarah, the Russian team, Tollana, the Tok’ra….all gone or mostly gone. Good people, good lives, and the evil just kept on winning. Earth was just as much at risk as it had been since the gate was first opened, the asteroid threat had proven that and the Asgard safety net seemed as worthless as the beams of light it was written on. They needed a win. Needed something good to happen. But it never did. There hadn’t been much good lately to balance the soul-destroying pull of all the bad, and Daniel felt like it was weighing him down, anchoring his soul to the never-ending failures that were his life lately. And no one else seemed to notice or care. Once upon a time he’d have been able to talk to Jack, Sam, or Teal’c about it, but it seemed like they’d all gone their separate ways so far that nothing could bring them back to each other. He missed that support, missed the reward that used to come with getting the job done - even if they didn’t fully succeed. When it was over there was still the team. But the team didn’t seem to need each other anymore. Needs had changed, priorities had changed, and too many diverse purposes had eroded their center. Daniel didn’t doubt their friendships. Those he was certain still existed, but they, too, had altered. He supposed it was natural, so many years together, living and breathing in one another’s back pockets, jumping from one crisis to the next with barely a moment to relax, much less reconnect as human beings and friends. He hated it. But he sure as hell didn’t know what to do about it… Vaguely Daniel was aware of Jack getting up again, surely not for more Tylenol… No, he was moving closer to Daniel, a lifted eyebrow asking the question both of them already knew the answer to. With a sigh, Daniel shook his head, admitting his latest failure… Then Jack smiled and touched his neck, an easy gesture that had been missing between them for so very long… Then Daniel was falling. Falling into Jack and losing himself in the rush of regret, loss, apology, drive that was Jack…. Self-loathing, loss, failure, and isolation. Deeper and deeper he fell into the certain knowledge that their best wasn’t good enough anymore. They were losing far more than they were winning, and he was so completely alone… The distance Daniel had seen as differences really weren’t at all. But the gap between them loomed ever larger, and Daniel wanted nothing more at that moment than to find a way across…~~Oma watched the two men locked in the grip of their own guilt and pain, divided by their own self-sufficiency and stubbornness. It was sad but so completely human. She’d made a habit of checking in on the human called Daniel. She’d been there for so many of his hurts, so many of his sufferings, waiting for the day she knew was not long off at this point… The day Daniel would have to choose. The day many of the things he was feeling now would make a difference in his life he would never imagine. Knowing how little time was left, Oma made a decision. Now, in this moment, these two friends needed one another again…and all too soon the comfort would be denied them, probably for a very long time, however things might transpire. The goa’uld virus would eventually run its course but would take up precious time she knew these two did not possess. It was one of the reasons she was outcast from others of her kind, but what they viewed as interference she viewed as mercy and justice on a scale they refused to see. Someday she would suffer her own consequences for her actions, but that day was not today… Reaching out a tendril of her being she touched the two men locked together and apart, bridging the gap they could not cross alone…and felt the connection fall into place as it had always done. Hovering a moment to be sure of her work, Oma smiled and listened as words poured from both men at once. Words she was sure would complete the task of filling up the gaps between them and keep them from falling into the same trap again. Once certain, she floated away toward the ceiling, resolving to stay near until she was needed. So hopeful were these humans, so fleeting their love and care, but she, of all her kind, valued it for them and even envied it. Soon, so very soon, time would catch up to them all….~~Janet looked at the monitor connected to Iso room one, smiling at what she saw. The colonel and Daniel sitting together on one of the beds, the colonel’s hand resting on Daniel’s neck in a gesture of friendship and closeness she hadn’t seen in far too long. She still had no idea what they were dealing with, so far only isolating a nanovirus, but if the enforced time alone helped the two friends recover some of what had been lost then maybe it would all have been worth it in the end. A subtle glow on the edge of the screen captured Janet’s attention, barely there then gone again. ‘Maybe a glitch in the system,’ she thought, not sure why her own words didn’t seem to quite convince her. Janet was on her feet even as the two men fell to the floor, heading for the Iso room at full speed and calling for assistance as she went. Suiting up was out of the question. She needed to be in there right away, but Janet took the time to grab mask and gloves before opening the door to see the colonel and Daniel on the floor, leaning into one another but quite certainly awake and aware. The colonel was laughing, hand resting on Daniel’s shoulder as he supported the other man who was smiling more broadly than she’d seen in a very long time. If she didn’t know better she’d have suspected one or both was drunk. As it was, she just shook her head at the vision of friendship and moved into the room to examine them. Orderlies streamed in behind her, helping her put both men in their respective beds. She ordered another round of tests, not sure what else to do at this point. Something had obviously changed, and she needed to know what. “She’s at it again, Daniel,” the colonel observed wryly, looking at the other man as if sharing a secret joke. Daniel nodded sagely, eyes twinkling. “Just doing her job, Jack. You know how that goes…” “Got to get the job done, Daniel. That’s the hell of it…” The younger man blinked suddenly, growing more somber. “Yeah, it is, Jack. It sure as hell as…” Janet shook her head, certain she was missing something now, but the two men just looked at each other, identical expressions of understanding on their faces as they submitted to the tests. Whatever was going on, Janet was sure without quite knowing how that everything was going to be okay. And she was just as sure she didn’t just mean physically.~~Night birds called out to one another around the lakeshore, low lonely sounds that at one time would have underscored to Jack just how alone he had let himself become. Now though, looking over at the man lounging on his deck chair beside him, having given up the pretense of fishing hours before, Jack just basked in the knowledge he wasn’t alone. The virus had done what Daniel had said it would do, made them defenseless and let them cross the divides between them in ways Jack would never have thought possible again. Fraiser had cleared them finally, having no explanation for the disappearance of the nanovirus or for their return to good health in so short a time. They’d scared Hammond bad enough to be granted a week's leave and Jack had wasted no time inviting Daniel for the fishing trip they’d been denied when Daniel’s appendix had blown and had never found the time for afterward. It was way past time for it. Way past time for them to be taking care of their friendship just as strongly and with as much energy and commitment as they did the business of the SGC. ‘Way past time…” Watching Daniel half-doze in the orange light of the setting sun, Jack tried to shake off the feeling of time getting away from them. Somewhere in all their bridge-gapping Jack had gotten a strong impression that he should treasure these times, that there weren’t many left to either one of them. Depressing and fatalistic, he knew, but the feeling was so strong. The mission to Kalona was scheduled on their return, but Jack really wasn’t expecting trouble. ‘Not that we ever expect it,’ he thought to himself. They’d have to be extra careful, keep an eye out for one another. Maybe afterward the feeling would pass and things could get back to normal again. Or the closest approximation to normal SG1 ever managed. With a sigh, Jack shook his head and tried to clear the depressing thoughts from his mind. He knew they should get up and go inside, get out of the night air. Carter and Teal’c would be joining them the next day for a weekend of overdue team bonding. And they would go in, soon. Right now Jack didn’t want to break the spell of the birdsong, the lake and the distinct and soul-healing pleasure of friendship regained. They’d go soon. This was more important…fin* © October, 2003 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characterswho have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.
10347249	Stage Fright	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Katsuki Yuuri, Phichit Chulanont, Yuri Plisetsky, Makkachin (Yuri!!! on Ice), Jean-Jacques Leroy, Christophe Giacometti, Victor Nikiforov, Viktor Nikiforov", "Fandom": "Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by mysugawara", "chapters": "1/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-18T00:00:00", "words": "1,343", "Additional Tags": "Singer/Songwriter AU, Music, Alternate Universe - Music, Fluff, Romance, a lil' bit of angst, just a little, Anxiety, stage fright, full of dumb music references, I spell Viktor with a 'k'", "Relationship": "Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	He just stood there on stage. Like it was nothing. He soaked up the energy of the crowd. Serenaded them with his voice. Oh, his voice. It was like something out of a fairytale. It soared above that soft acoustic guitar. Gentle when it needed to be; powerful when it needed to be. That sweet baritone voice. Captivating everyone in the room. When his voice finally trailed off it took everyone a moment to recover. They roared with applause. He looked so good in the stage lights. Standing there with his guitar. Lips pressed against the microphone. Singing every note with such passion. It was amazing. I wanted to be him, be like him. Critically acclaimed, Viktor Nikiforov. I loved every single moment of that performance. I’d been listening to Viktor’s music for years. Ever since he was little. Ever since I was little. It’s only gotten better as he’s gotten older. It’s like I’ve grown up with him. It was like I fell in love with him. Yeah. In my dreams right? . . . I’m twenty-three years old. I currently live in Los Angeles. I’ve wanted to move here my whole life. It just seemed like a cool place to live. Okay, yeah, I’ll admit I moved here to be closer to music. LA just seemed like the perfect place to pursue a career in music, but so far that hasn’t worked out so well. I graduated from UCLA last year. I’m glad I got good marks in high school and earned a scholarship to go to school here. I received a degree in communications. I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to do with it. I work a pretty decent job as a barista right now. It’s a good way to practice my English, as well as my coffee-making skills.I picked up the guitar at age eight. It came pretty easy to me; I learned the chords pretty fast. Now playing in front of others, that was a different story. I’ve always been an anxious person, but none of that compares to what I feel when I’m on stage. My palms get sweaty, my fingers slip off the strings, my voice cracks, and my whole body feels weak. What’s the point of playing the guitar if I can’t perform? Oh yeah, I write songs too. It’s not that big of a deal. I sing them to friends, close family. I mostly stick to covers though. Viktor Nikiforov covers of course. Luckily he sings in English; Russian would be way too hard for me. I like writing in English as well. It takes me a little longer, but more people can enjoy it that way. That is, if I ever get the courage to perform my songs in front of others. I spend most of my money on tickets to shows. There’s a club that is pretty close to where I live that books good bands and artists on a regular basis. The tickets are cheap and there isn’t a bad seat in the house. Music has been the only that I deeply care about. Might as well spend some money on something I love. Viktor comes to town at least twice a year. I have probably seen his show about eight times. There’s something about his sound . . . it just gets me. It sounds warm, welcoming, and homey. Like somebody sitting you down and telling you how they feel about you. Friends enjoying a deep conversation together.My closest friend is a guy named Phichit. He’s from Thailand. He also got a scholarship to UCLA, but he has a degree in performing arts. He’s currently in a musical production on Broadway. It’s a supporting role, but it’s still impressive nonetheless. We message each other every day. He knows about my obsession with Viktor. Luckily, Phichit is a fan as well, so he kind of understands where I’m coming from. Phichit has a great voice. I’m actually jealous of it sometimes. He compliments my voice too, but I never take him seriously. He’s just being nice after all. Phichit came to visit one day back in February. It was unusually rainy in LA. He came straight to my apartment from the airport. “Yuuri! It’s so nice to see you!” he said as he gave me a big hug. He’s always been touchy like that. “Nice to see you too! How was your flight?” “Not too much turbulence. I slept the whole way, so I don’t remember much of it.”“That’s great. Well, tell me about it! How was your first performance on Broadway!” His face lit up with excitement. “I have so much to tell you Yuuri! It was so awesome!”I really couldn’t have been happier for him. He was chasing his dream and it what actually working out for him. Must have been nice. He told me about his pre-show jitters and how nervous he was before going on. His cast members assured him that he would do great. The show went off without a hitch. The reviews in the paper the next day were glowing. “Oh, one more thing,” he began, still with a wide smile on his face. “You’ll never believe who I met.” “Who?” I returned. “Viktor. Nikiforov.”“NO WAY!” I shouted back. “He was at the show! Apparently he was doing some recording work nearby and decided to come to opening night! He had VIP passes and went backstage to meet the cast! I shook his hand and everything! He complimented my voice! I was freaking out so hard!”“That is so awesome, Phichit!” I couldn’t believe it. He met my idol. The one I looked up to. “Of course he complimented your voice. It’s amazing.” “Thank you, Yuuri. You should really start honing your voice. Really. Yours is great, too.” “Oh, stop it. My voice is okay.” “Yuuri, stop it. Have some confidence in yourself! Your voice is out-of-this-world good! It’s unique! People would love to hear it. You just have to get over your stage fright thing.”“Yeah. . .” I sighed. “You just need to play some shows. Find a band and start playing. I know it’s what you want to do. Your songs are great, too. You’re a great songwriter. That’s something I’ve never had.” “Thanks, Phichit. You wanna go get some food? I’m in the mood for katsudon tonight.” “Yuuri, you’re always in the mood for katsudon,” he said with a giggle. I thought about what he said for weeks to come. Maybe I should join a band, I thought to myself. It would probably be good for me. I had to get off my ass and start pursuing what I loved. I immediately started writing more material; I was more motivated than ever. My favorite of that batch of songs was a slow acoustic-only one: Why don’t you come closer? I’ve been waiting for you To call my name To be the one I can talk to Why aren’t you here? To be the one to lean on I’ve never felt you I know I have to be strong Holding back my longing Doesn’t make sense ‘Cause there’s no use in dodging The ugly truth, unless You find me With arms, open Receive my love My loving words, spoken I was proud of that one at the time. I showed it to Phichit and he loved it. Of course he told me to perform it somewhere. Easier said than done, Phichit. The songs just kept coming out and I was feeling good. It was finally time to play a show. I looked up an open mic night at the local club. Easy enough, just show up and play a couple of songs. I flubbed it. It was a disaster. My voice cracked and I forgot the words to my own songs. I practically got booed off stage. I went home and cried. I hadn’t cried in a very, very long time. It was humiliating. I vowed never to go on stage again. My music career was over. Until one day . . . when it all changed.
10357512	Love at first sight	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Éowyn (Tolkien), Faramir (Son of Denethor II), Ioreth (Tolkien), Elboron (Tolkien)", "Fandom": "The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by AnnaFan", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-18T00:00:00", "words": "812", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Éowyn/Faramir (Son of Denethor II)", "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 }	Faramir paced up and down the narrow passage way. One, two, three... twelve, thirteen, fourteen, turn, one... He hadn't done this since that dread day when he paced the hall of Merethrond, counting the paces as he and Boromir had as children. Of course, then there had been his own life at stake, and the future of Gondor. Now, it felt as though the stakes were far, far higher. Dreadful tales came back to him. Sad tales of Rangers who had lost their loved ones this way. The grief in the men's eyes. He gave himself a shake. He was sure that if Ioreth was on this side of the wooden door rather than the other, she would give him a dressing down for his foolishness, a dressing down to rival that of any sergeant major he had ever encountered in his callow youth as a young soldier. Eowyn, she would say, was young and healthy, and had child-bearing hips (oh, how he loved the swell of those hips beneath his palms... that was, after all, one of the things that had got them into this situation). She would add that the bairn felt as if it was lying perfectly, head down, back towards Eowyn's belly. She would tell him that women had been doing this since time immemorial. What she would not say, because she had a keen sense of the importance of rank, was that he was being a bloody fool. But her eyes would say it, clearly enough, and he would feel as chastened as if she were Damrod (the Valar rest him) and he that daft young laddie, Anborn.But for now, all he could do was to pace up and down endlessly... until... until... Suddenly an unmistakable noise penetrated the door and cut through the air. The cry of a newborn babe. He took several swift strides until he came to a halt just beside the door... then stood waiting, shifting anxiously from foot to foot, feeling uncomfortably like a naughty schoolboy waiting for a dressing down (though why such a feeling should suddenly have assailed him, he had not the faintest inkling). But moments later, the door swung open to reveal Mistress Ioreth."You may come in now, your highness," she said, with a slight inclination of her head. Quickly, he stepped inside.Eowyn sat, not on the bed as he had expected, but leaning against the wall near its foot. Beneath her was a rug, behind the small of her back, a cushion, and there, upon her breast, lay a tiny baby, smaller than Faramir could ever have imagined it was possible for a human being to be. Faramir supposed that he should reach for some poetic language on an occasion as momentous as this, perhaps describe the child as rose pink like a summer's dawn. But in truth, the baby was an angry red, streaked in what appeared to be grey slime, with little tufts of dark hair standing up in wet spikes. Then a pair of deep blue eyes latched onto him, and followed his movements with apparent fascination, and in that instant, for the second time in his life, Faramir fell utterly and irrevocably in love."Your son, my lord," said Ioreth.In a daze, Faramir moved across the room and knelt beside Éowyn, stroking first the baby's cheek, then hers. He knew he must have a totally idiotic grin plastered across his face. Eowyn returned his smile with a weak, tired smile of her own, brushing her damp hair from her forehead with the hand that wasn't holding her son, then reached out for his hand and held it."I haven't been this knackered since I had to run away from that bloody mumak. In fact, for a while there I thought I was giving birth to a mumak. I can't believe how small he is – I could have sworn he was at least the size of a mountain troll on the way out." She looked down at the tiny figure, now opening and closing a pink hand seemingly at random, and her eyes filled with tears. But all the while, the smile on her face grew broader. "He is ours... I can't believe it."Faramir reached across and kissed her forehead, as he had done on the walls that day, then sat back on his heels, holding one of her hands, and stroking the baby's soft skin with his forefinger."Do you remember?" she said, freeing her hand in order to wipe her nose with the back of it (Faramir grinned: old soldier's habits die hard). "Boromir asked us to name our first born for him."And Faramir felt the answering prick of tears in his eyes as he answered in a slightly choked voice. Gently taking the baby in his own arms for the first time, he whispered "Elboron."
10317260	Mutually Beneficial	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Boots O'Neal, Bruno Walton", "Fandom": "Macdonald Hall - Gordon Korman", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by mousapelli", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-16T00:00:00", "words": "1,511", "Additional Tags": "Future Fic, Snow Day, Bruno the kindergarten teacher, Established Relationship", "Relationship": "Boots O'Neal/Bruno Walton", "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 }	If the ringing of the phone hadn't woken Boots up, Bruno clamoring over him to pounce on it would have, and then lying sprawled half over him while he listened, holding his breath. A second later Bruno let out a whoop of glee. "No school?" Boots asked, even though he already knew the answer. Plus his own university classes had been called off the night before as the beginnings of the snowstorm were rolling in. Bruno's school district never did anything so sensible as call off early, except for that one time the superintendent had slipped going down his own driveway the night before. "Mmhmm." Bruno sat up enough that Boots could draw a full breath again, yanking the curtain back to peer out the window. Boots hunched further under the blankets with a grumble from the tickle of cold air, but Bruno pressed his face flat to the window, squashing his nose flat against the glass. "It's really coming down." He made a satisfied noise as if the snow were all part of his plan. "Don't look so gleeful," Boots yawned, hitching up the blanket to hide his smile. Bruno like this was dangerously cute, bare-chested and hair sticking up all over, eyes sparkling with excitement. "You're worse than your students."It was a lie, because Bruno's students were kindergartners and loved going to school. They loved Bruno, too, because he colored with them and played the guitar and taught them imagination games that ended up with him on the carpet with them, sweater rumpled. Last week he'd taught them a game called Revolution, staged a walk-out to the playground, and been called into the principal's office. The local paper had had a picture of them, twenty-five kindergartners in their matching school uniforms, tiny sweaters and plaid skirts, holding up crayoned signs that read things like "COOKYS ARE GRATE" and "WHALS SING." Boots had taped it to the refrigerator and sent copies to both their mothers. "Also, you're losing half your spring break now," Boots reminded, trying to drag his mind back to the present. Not that present Bruno was any less dangerous or cute than playground activism Bruno. "I don't care!" Bruno proclaimed, throwing himself down dramatically next to Boots. "I have two more personal days to burn this year anyway or I'm gonna lose them. Let's fly to Paris.""Pretend I made a clever baguette joke, and will you get back under here?" Boots shook the blankets enticingly, like he was trying to coax the cat out. "I'm freezing just looking at you.""Fine, fine." Bruno wriggled under the blankets, feet and nose freezing when he pressed them against Boots. Boots whined piteously. "So what should we do with our snow day?""Sleep? My homework?" Boots asked hopefully. Bruno chuckled like Boots was adorable, pulling Boots into a proper spoon, nose pressed into the curve of Boots' neck. "C'mon, Bruno, it's five in the morning!""You don't care about that," Bruno said with confidence, palming the side of Boots' face to turn him back for a kiss. It was lazy and mis-matched, but they hadn't been asleep long enough for morning breath since they hadn't exactly been responsible the night before in the face of an almost-certain snow day. Bruno's hand trailed down Boots' chest, tugging at his nipples, tracing the curve of his ribs. Boots was half-hard by the time Bruno's hand got there, and Bruno had no trouble getting him the rest of the way there with smooth strokes, slow enough that Boots could feel the drag of his guitar calluses. Bruno was hard enough for Boots to feel him rocking gently against the back of his thigh in rhythm with his hand. Boots whined when Bruno broke the kiss to push him onto his back, whined harder when Bruno sat up and knocked the blankets off. His hand was still on Boots' dick, jerking him over base-to-tip while he looked Boots over with open affection. "Tell me what you want," Bruno said. "Blankets," Boots said, then had to turn his head away and stare at the wall before he added, "You can, if you want." Boots felt himself flush even saying that much, because he was still terrible about asking for what he wanted, but Bruno usually worked it out."Can I?" Bruno asked. His hand left Boots' dick to trail down between his thighs, featherlight. Boots colored even darker. "It's only fair." Because they usually did it the other way, like they had last night, Bruno spread open and easy for him, flushed the whole way past his shoulders, rutting hips up like he could never get Boots deep enough, never get enough of any part of Boots. "It's not a business merger, it doesn't have to fair," Bruno said. He dropped to his elbows to kiss Boots' stomach, open-mouthed. "Not that I'm opposed…""Please," Boots muttered. The times when he wanted it for himself were far enough in between that they should take advantage of it. Plus they had the time in the world at the moment. And Bruno took such good care of Boots too, when he put his mind to it, which was borderline ridiculous because when it was Boots' fingers, Bruno was nothing but impatience and unreasonable demands. But this way, Bruno was all gentle touches and low voice, coaxing Boots to let him in one finger at a time, centimeter by centimeter. They'd agreed mutually on using the metric system for sex, since it made everything sound more impressive than with inches. Boots thought about the metric system, staring at the ceiling over their bed instead of Bruno carefully fingering him open, because otherwise he was going to come all over himself. "This way?" Bruno asked when he was done tormenting Boots' sanity, at least for the moment. He touched his lube sticky hand to Boots' hip to draw his attention back down from the ceiling. "Hm? Or what?""Come here," Boots decided, sitting up. He pushed Bruno back against the headboard and climbed into his lap, put Bruno's hands on his hips. Bruno's finger dug in, tightly pleasant as Boots sank down onto him, gripping the headboard and taking deep, measured breaths against the sting of it. "Jesus fuck," Bruno breathed, like some sort of twisted prayer. Boots dropped the last two inches—the last five centimeters—with a choked hiss, and Bruno's eyes turned round and adoring. "Melvin.""Bruno," Boots agreed. He felt steady enough to let go of the headboard and put his hands on Bruno's shoulders instead. He tugged at the bottom edges of Bruno's hair, getting long enough that they were curling a bit. "Help out.""Uh-huh," Bruno agreed, sliding his grip further back, just under the curve of Boots' ass. With Bruno holding him steady, Boots only had to focus on up and down, on how deep he could take Bruno without his knees sliding out from under him. When they got it just right, Bruno could lift his hips into it, the slap of their skin square together only slightly louder than Boots' breath. "Mm. I love that noise.""What?" Boots asked, distracted. No surprise that Bruno was a sex talker. "It's like my thighs are high-fiving your ass." Boots opened his eyes to glare down at Bruno, which was not effective, and then squeezed tight around Bruno's dick, which was. "Focus," Boots ordered. He tugged harder on Bruno's hair, and Bruno moaned shamelessly before wrapping arms tight around Boots' waist and squeezing them tightly together enough that it took most of the weight off Boots' shaking thighs. "Hm, better."It was harder to wedge his hand in between their stomachs to bring himself off when it eventually got to that point, but Boots wasn't in the shape to care about that, or much of anything, by then. And it was nice that he could slump all his weight against Bruno after he came. "You're amazing," Bruno told him, and when Boots peeled open his eyes, Bruno was looking up at him with rapt adoration, chin against Boots' stomach. "Melvin O'Neal, I might just love you.""Shut it, you." Boots scratched his fingers along Bruno's scalp, smiling at the way it made his eyes flutter. "More than snow days?"Bruno gasped, horrified. "Don't make me choose! As a teacher, that's grounds for calling my union rep."Boots eventually got up to shuffle to the shower, and Bruno went to make coffee and fight with the waffle maker. Eventually they ended up gravitating back into bed anyway, Bruno restlessly clicking through episodes of The Great British Bake-Off while Boots worried at his homework and batted Bruno's syrup-sticky fingers away from his laptop keys. "Seriously, Walton, I know where those fingers have been," Boots warned, giving him a side-glare. Bruno's eyes were still on the television, but the grin that spread across his face was the kind of grin that used to get Boots nearly kicked out of boarding school half a dozen times a year. "You do, do you? Yeah, I do too."
10375983	Get a Clue	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Genos (One-Punch Man), Saitama (One-Punch Man)", "Fandom": "ワンパンマン \| One-Punch Man", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Pokin (orphan_account)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-20T00:00:00", "words": "1,450", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Private Investigators", "Relationship": "Genos/Saitama (One-Punch Man)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	So it starts like this: Saitama is sitting in his office, finishing the the last of the paperwork from his last case when a young man walks in. He’s rather short and frail-looking, hobbling in wearing dainty glasses and a coat with the gait of a sinner in church - but he’s got this look in his eyes, the kind that tell you right off the bat that he knows what he came here for. This guy, Mumen, doesn’t say anything but slides an envelope across the table, right over Saitama’s work and stopping right in front of him. He looks up and raises a brow. “I’d like to hire your services - err, I mean - “ “Look sir,” his eyes glide back down, tiresome, towards his papers. “I just got off a three-month case and I’m not too keen on starting a new one.” “Eh?” For a moment, the man seemed thrown off - nervous even. “Are - are you sure?” He thinks about it: the past weeks spent in the shadows like a hunter, restless, looming in the dark to bring the truth to light. It used to be fun once, exhilarating, even fulfilling...but then came the sneaking, the hiding and the crying when the client would inevitably receive the news that their partners weren’t “just going out with some friends.” It happens, he knows. He’s seen it too many times, seen the mythical Love reduced to nothing but a mirage for tears, lies, and jealousy all the same; in this line of work, the pure and good were nothing but dreams for the sick, an apparition chased into obscurity. Saitama wished he could say he was cured, that he felt no feelings and didn’t care at all, but the truth was the last case particularly got to him; maybe it was because there was a child involved, maybe it was because they genuinely seemed like a happy family straight out of novel; but when he delivered the news and the lady started weeping and screaming and throwing things - all he could think about was the kid. So small and wide-eyed, looking at the world with his heart open and hands reaching out for a promise he’d never receive. Damn this job was bringing out the pessimism in him. Saitama shook his head, decision made concrete. “Nah.” He paused, giving him a sympathetic look; he seemed like a nice guy. “Sorry.” He looked down towards his paper, thinking that was the last of it when the young man suddenly slaps down a check in front of him. Saitama’s eyes widen at the numbers. “Uh…” He finally sets his pen down and leans back, scratching the back of his neck. “Go on?” The man blew out a breath of relief. “Thank goodness. Me and - err, my associate? - We would um, like you to look up - “ “You want me to investigate someone?” “Ah - that’s right! This man,” he slides out a small photo from his pocket and gives it to him. “Genos.” Saitama’s eyes skim down the picture disinterestedly until he reaches to burning rings of gold. He falters for a moment, somewhat lost in their intensity. This guy doesn’t seem the type to do things half-assed; he’ll more than likely try to cover up whatever he’s doing if he’s doing anything… Saitama’s eyes flicker back up. “What exactly am I looking for in him?” “Huh?” Mumen looks thrown off again. He glances around. “Um… Oh - uh - for...um...oh! For a secret partner!” “Oh. So you’re his partner?” Not that he cares. He glances back down at the picture and could definitely envision this blonde getting anyone he wanted. “Ahh - yup! Definitely!” Mumen leans forward. “So, will you do it?” It really makes it hard to stay positive when you have to tell people like this that their spouse is cheating on them - but… he stares into the picture, the man, Genos, and tries to unlock its meaning. He really hates this job. He sighs. “Fine. I’ll keep watch on him.” They shake hands and for a second Saitama expects Mumen to look nervous, to back out and say that maybe he was wrong, maybe this guy Genos wasn’t the type to do anything like that - but instead, Mumen is smiling, eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. Day one, Saitama decides to hit the ground running: he pours over the internet and online sources, brows rising when he finds out that Genos is actually the heir to a grand cybernetics company - most likely through his adoptive guardian, Dr. Kuseno. The guy is currently working within the building’s offices, in one of the development sectors making the designs for future products. It’s impressive to say the least; a definite wow factor for admirers and pursuers. Maybe he’ll check up on him later, drop by and stake out a bit to get a feel for his daily schedule. But first thing’s first: he drops by a nearby diner for breakfast. Saitama orders the usual - a simple cup of coffee and french toast - and takes his seat by a window. He opens his laptop and yawns, opening up his browser when a tuft of blonde hair catches his eye. “What the- “ he looks up only to find the back of someone’s head two tables away. “Oh. Pssh.” I’m getting worked up over nothing. When he looks back down, he swears he could feel a pair of eyes burning holes into him. Saitama looks up and this time sees the blonde tuffs shift, just a little from the movement of someone looking away. He narrows his eyes. Is someone staring at him again? His brow twitches when the blonde shifts their head again, seeming to glance at him for a quick second before looking away. Oh, come on! Bald people aren’t that rare! Saitama decides to catch him in the act: he looks down, pretends to be suddenly immersed in work he’s not doing and types away at the keyboard. He gives it a minute, then two, then - aha! He snaps his head back up and catches the golden pair of eyes staring at him, eyes widening for just a moment before settling and stilling like metal glazed over. Calm. Direct. Aloof. Suddenly it hits him: it’s the guy - Genos! Shoot, and now he knows what Saitama looks like! Damn. He blew his cover!! There’s only one thing to do when caught: play it off. Saitama raises his hand in a friendly wave. “Hey.” Genos blinks, almost looking surprised before his brows furrow. He gets up and Saitama thinks about how he really blew this one when Genos makes his way over to his table and sits down across from him. “Good morning. Do you mind if I sit here?” “Not at all.” he looks at the blonde: Genos looks striking in real life, breathing, vivid, dazzling and intense all at once in an overwhelming swirl. He’s wearing tight jeans and a black vest, and has glinting piercings and a black bag with a laptop and office supplies inside. Saitama points at the bag. “Cool laptop.” “Oh.” Genos looks towards it. “Thank you. I designed it myself.” Saitama whistled. “Cool. You’re some kind of mechanic?” “I’d say engineer.” He raises his hand. “I’m Genos.” He takes it. “Saitama.” Now that it was out in the open, there’s only one thing he can do: play it as it is. From now on he’s Saitama , the guy who just met Genos at a diner and only happens to run into him from pure coincidence. He can work with this… “So, what do you do, Mr. Saitama?” “Oi, what’s with ‘Mr.’? I’m not that old.” “Of course. My apologies.” He sure didn’t sound like it... “Hey I mean it, kid! I’ll have you know I work in - “ he glanced away for an answer, fumbling - “adult stuff.” It was then Genos let out a small bark of laughter and suddenly the formal atmosphere lifted like a blanket thrown off. Saitama couldn’t help but smile back. They continued talking for a while longer, small but friendly all the same. When the time came for Genos to leave, the blonde even looked almost disappointed. He had a small frown on as he moved his things into his bag and packed up to go. “See you tomorrow?” Genos looks up, eyes curious. Then, he smiled again - knocking the air from Saitama’s lungs - and left, leaving him his card. Once the blonde walked out the door, Saitama’s smile dropped; he groans, throwing his head back: already he blew his cover, blew the case probably. Oh well. He looks back down at the card Genos left him; it’s a business card, but… “Well. at least there’s tomorrow.”
10389270	Widows Peak	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Leo Fitz, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Jemma Simmons", "Fandom": "Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by memorizingthedigitsofpi", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-21T00:00:00", "words": "2,246", "Additional Tags": "Academy Era, seduction class, professor romanov - guest lecturer, rated T for an F bomb, nat is a fitzsimmons shipper, because aren't we all?", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Leo Fitz/Natasha Romanov, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons", "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 }	Fitz sat at the back of the room and tried his hardest not to be noticed. As the youngest person in the Academy, except one, he was teased mercilessly for even being in this class. It only got worse when they were paired up for scenarios.Back at the beginning of term, he'd asked Agent Weaver if he might postpone taking the course until later in his academic career. Really, he just wanted to have a chance to learn how to do things the normal way before he learned how to do them as a spy. Unfortunately, it was an off-year course, meaning it was only offered every other year. At his current pace, he'd graduate before it was offered again. Or at least, he'd be close. It was a required course, after all.So here he was. 17 years old and forced to sit in a room of 20-somethings as they learned how to seduce an enemy agent. Well, alright not really an enemy agent. They were in Sci-Ops, after all. But they were learning how to seduce enemy scientists into perhaps revealing enemy secrets. Or something.He had a bit of a difficult time concentrating in class, so the finer points tended to get rather vague for him.So it was, he was looking at his phone when their lecturer walked in. Normally, this wouldn't be anything to talk about, but today it prompted an avalanche of conversation that a stern female voice cut off with a terse, "Be quiet."Even from the back of the room, he could tell who it was. The telltale red hair and all-black outfit gave it away.Black Widow.Eyes wide, Fitz swallowed hard in instant fear and slipped his phone into his back pocket. The last thing he wanted to do was anything at all that SHIELD's deadliest spy might consider disrespectful.Natasha looked out over her audience and internally sighed. Externally, she showed no emotion. Years of practice made that easy.Steve had all of the Avengers signing up to teach classes at the Academy. He said it was 'outreach' or some crap like that. Barton had lucked out and gotten weapons training, and she'd been stuck with seduction. Typical. She couldn't blame Steve for that, though. He'd recommended her for close quarters hand to hand.Maybe next time.At least with a group of nerds, she didn't need to worry about them getting themselves killed. They were taking this course so they could wheedle secrets out of fellow scientists at conventions and university parties and things, not so they could get close enough to an enemy agent to kill them.She went over the basics: Meet the mark. Chat them up. Play to your strengths. Go in for the metaphorical kill. Get the intel. Get out.At least they asked intelligent questions. Small favours and all that.Then it was time to pull a volunteer.She'd been scanning the room throughout her lecture, trying to find a good candidate. They were all fairly wet behind the ears compared to the operatives she dealt with in the field, so it felt almost like window shopping for a puppy.That's when it started. The teasing and tormenting. She spotted the victim easily enough. He was a skinny little curly-haired kid, couldn't be more than about sixteen. He actually looked kind of like those pictures of Steve from before he was Cap. The poor thing was blushing so hard she worried he might have an aneurysm, and he clearly wanted nothing more than to drop through a hole in the floor."You," she said, pointing right at him.Speaking of aneurysms...Fitz just about pissed himself when Black Widow pointed at him."M-me?" he asked in a strangled whisper.Of course, that just made everything worse. Now, instead of offering him up as the sacrificial lamb they were talking about how Widow was going to end up killing him. One way or another.Swallowing so hard there was an audible gulp, Fitz slowly walked to the front of the room like a prisoner approaching the gallows. Widow, on the other hand, looked at him more like he was a cockroach approaching her dinner plate.By the time he finally got right up in front of her, his heart was beating so fast he was worried he might have a coronary. Or at the very least pass out."Alright," she said crisply, looking him up and down. "Let's see how well you were paying attention."Fitz's eyes somehow got even wider as he tried not to actually piss himself with fear.This is a test. She's testing you. You're good at tests. For the love of god, pass!Nat felt herself feeling sorry for the kid. He looked like he might wet himself, for god's sake. Trying her best to be nice to him, she put on a bright smile and held out her hand."I'm Natasha, but you can call me Nat. Nice to meet you."The entire room stared at her. What? They'd never seen a woman smile before?The kid was looking at her as if she'd just grown a second head, so she decided to help him out."And you are...?" she asked, giving him her best 'I'm very interested to find out' look."F-f-fitz," Fitz stammered, still completely gobsmacked by the complete change in the woman in front of him. Her hair and clothes hadn't changed, but she still somehow looked like a completely different person. How had she done that?He remembered himself a moment later and shook the hand she'd held out when she introduced herself."Leo Fitz, but everyone just calls me Fitz," he said nervously, pumping her hand a few too many times before letting go.Then he wiped his sweaty palm off on his jeans."It's, ehm, it's nice to meet you, as well."So far, so good. But that was just an introduction. He'd gotten the hang of those when he was five years old. The tricky bit was... well, he rest of the conversation, really.Taking a deep breath, he gestured to one of the seating areas they had set up around the room to mimic bars and restaurants and cafes. This one had a sofa and a coffee table and two chairs."How, ehm." He cleared his throat. "How are you enjoying the conference so far?"He tried not to look too surprised when she chose to sit on the sofa instead of a chair. This was a seduction class, after all. And this was the demonstration.He was the demonstration.Suddenly, he wondered which one of them was supposed to be the seductor and which the seductee?And were those even real words?Well, he got her seated and comfortable, so at least he'd paid attention to that much of the lecture. And he was sticking to topics he was familiar with. Crossing her legs and smiling coyly, she patted the cushion beside her."It was rather boring," she said in a flirtatious voice. "But it's much better now."He dropped into the seat beside her like a sack of potatoes and the class laughed. She shot them a glare, and they shut up.Reaching out, she put her hand on his knee. Someone in the back actually gasped.How old were these kids, anyway?"What about you? Are you having a good time?"Fitz stared at her hand like it was a live snake. Black Widow was touching him. Black Widow was touching him and he wasn't dead yet."Mmhmm," he agreed, nodding his head up and down rapidly while trying to disappear into the sofa cushions. "Lovely."He closed his eyes in mortification as his voice cracked."Which, ehm. Which... which hotel are you staying at?" He cracked one eye open to look at her nervously. Then he opened the other because she looked... impressed?Was he doing it?Was he actually flirting with Black Widow?"I've ehm. I've got a, ehm, a room? Upstairs?" He held his breath. This was at least as terrifying as doing all of this for real.The massive "ooh" from the viewing audience didn't help, either. If he were any redder, he'd be able to go undercover in a field full of tomato plants."Someone's cocky," Nat chuckled. Then she glared at the class again. She'd have to have a word with their regular instructor about a little thing called manners. "At least buy me a drink first."She winked at him and licked her lips.He gaped at her in shock.He really wasn't completely horrible at this. He just needed to learn how to control his face, you know, at all. He was doing better than most teenagers would, that was for sure.When he didn't say anything in response, she squeezed his knee. There was another gasp, closer to the front this time.Seriously? Did someone thing she was actually going to seduce someone half her age?Fitz heard the gasp but it was drowned out almost immediately by laughter. He looked out at his classmates and saw an awful lot of knowing elbow jabs and mocking kissy faces. Setting his jaw, he turned back to Black Widow. "What'll you have?" he asked with more confidence than he actually felt. And then he waved over a classmate to act as their waitress. He'd chosen Jemma because at least she wouldn't laugh right in his face."Yes?" she asked, one hand poised over the other as if holding a pen to a pad of paper. He had to give it to her, she was committing to the role."Scotch rocks for me," he said, pulling a drink out of thin air. He didn't really like alcohol (and here in the States he wasn't legally allowed to drink it anyway), but he wanted to at least pretend to know what he was doing.Much like he was doing with the rest of this ridiculous scenario."Vodka soda," Black Widow said.She patted his knee again, and he just stared at her hand not knowing what to do.Nat almost laughed at the look on the girl's face. She knew a crush when she saw one. Then she looked over at Fitz and how shell shocked he still looked at having her hand on his knee. She was willing to bet he was totally clueless.Maybe she'd add a good deed to her good deed today and help the kids out?Shifting closer to Fitz, she leaned with her elbow on the back of the sofa and her cheek resting on her hand. She was close enough now, she could actually see his pulse racing in his neck. No way was this kid ready to be a spy. He had good instincts, but he'd need a lot more toughening up and life experience before he could survive in the field."Sooo..." she said, taking her hand from his knee and walking her index and middle fingers up his thigh.This time the gasp came from almost right next to them. Just as she'd thought. The waitress."Upstairs, you said?"She skipped over his waist and moved up to play with one of the buttons on his shirt."No fucking way!" stage whispered some idiot in the front row.Fitz gulped hard and nodded quickly again. "S'got a hot tub and everything," he chuckled weakly. He had no idea what else to say. He hadn't really stayed in that many hotel rooms in his life, but the nicest one he'd been in had had a hot tub outside of it so he just said that.Jemma came back with their "drinks" - a half-empty bottle of water and a travel mug that she'd taken from two of their classmates."Anything else I can get you two?" she asked. There was something weird going on with her face, but he couldn't tell what it was. He was too busy trying not to squirm while Black Widow practically took his clothes off in front of their whole class."Just the bill," Nat said with another significant wink. Then she picked up the water bottle and pressed the cap to Fitz's lips."Drink up," she said. "And then we can get out of here."She moved her other hand over to run her fingers through his hair.Their waitress let out a strangled sort of squeak, and it was all she could do not to look over at the poor girl.Taking pity on the both of them, she stood up abruptly and turned to address the class."It's as simple as that," she said. "Then you get to the room, play nice til the drugs in the drink take effect, get the intel you need, and leave your mark a nice note and a lipstick print to remember you by."She looked back over her shoulder at Fitz and smiled. "Lipstick print optional, of course."Turning back, she was all business again. "Now pair up and I'll come around and coach you individually. One mark and one spy."As the rest of the class started milling around, she turned back to Fitz and their waitress."You two," she said brusquely. "You're together. Sit down on the couch and figure it out."And if they didn't? Well, she was pretty good at making people do what she wanted them to do.She felt pretty confident they'd get together in the end.
10346016	Shiny Objects	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": "Multi", "Characters": "Sharon Carter (Marvel), Skye \| Daisy Johnson, Grant Ward, Leo Fitz, Jemma Simmons, Phil Coulson, Andrew Garner, Steve Rogers", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by NerdyKat", "chapters": "8/8", "completed": "2017-05-20", "published": "2017-03-18T00:00:00", "words": "33,160", "Additional Tags": "Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Past Child Abuse, Protective Sharon Carter, Protective Melinda May, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Implied/Referenced Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Kidnapping, Hydra Grant Ward, Hydra (Marvel), Protective Steve Rogers", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Sharon Carter/Skye \| Daisy Johnson, Steve Rogers/Skye \| Daisy Johnson, Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers/Skye \| Daisy Johnson", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Captain America (Movies), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“I don’t think it likes me here,” Skye said, staring at the Hub’s door panel. “It tends not to like shiny objects,” came a voice. Skye’s eyes went wide as she recognized her first set of soulwords. She turned and her brain nearly shorted at the at the gorgeous, curvaceous Amazonian blonde who was behind her. “I’m Sharon, by the way.” Skye was too stunned to answer. She could only stare at her soulmate. “What’d you do?” “I slept with the target,” she said before registering that her first words had been about Miles. The woman smiled and Skye reddened. “I mean- Oh god… I’m sorry… I’m an idiot. I’m Skye.” Sharon’s smile widened. “Relax. I’ve had those words on my skin since 1988. This is better circumstances than it could have been.” Skye nodded for a moment, then froze. “Wait, eighty- eight ?” “Yeah,” Sharon said slowly, then cracked a smile awkwardly. “What, do you not know when you were born?” Maybe it was the fact that Skye was still secured to the wall. Maybe it was the fact that Skye was months into working in SHIELD and still knew nothing about her parents or who had abandoned her to the foster system or if anyone would ever want her, including now her soulmates, but her eyes started welling up at the question. Skye looked away very quickly, but the woman caught it. Rushed forward, embracing her while simultaneously putting her badge up to the reader to release Skye’s wrist. In what felt like two seconds, Skye was ushered into a private room - just before tears started falling. Sharon was clearly at a loss of what to do, so she just held onto Skye while she sobbed. Eventually, Skye’s sobs died down. “You were born July 2nd, 1988,” Sharon said quietly. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” she said, trying to stop herself from crying. Physical contact with one of her soulmates seemed to be amplifying her emotions and the tears started falling faster again. “Do you want to talk about it?” Sharon asked, though she seemed to know the answer already. Skye looked down at her bracelet. “I slept with the target,” she said distantly. Her eyes flew open “Oh god, I slept with him when you were right here waiting for me. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry...” “It’s okay. Take a breath,” Sharon said. “Please Skye? I promise there’s nothing to be sorry about.” Skye nodded and took few breaths and calmed down. “I assume that the target was someone you knew? And you were emotionally invested?” “Miles…” Skye said, trailing off, wondering how much she could tell Sharon. She had told Coulson a good deal of it, but hadn’t wanted the looks of pity. Skye closed her eyes and took another breath. If there was anyone who would accept it without pitying her, it would be her soulmates. As if she were reading her mind, Sharon lightly touched her shoulder. “Hey, whatever it is, I’ll still love you. You’re still my soulmate.” Skye nodded and opened her eyes, but still wouldn’t look at Sharon. “When Miles found me… I’d been living on the street for six months. I was sixteen and… I’d been tossed away by every foster family I was ever placed with. Even the nuns at the orphanage didn’t want me. Sometimes the homes weren’t… they… sometimes the foster parents were the types that you hear in the horror stories about the foster system. Other times foster parents were good, but would return me for stupid reasons. According to some of the nuns, they told me that because I had multiple soulmarks… I wasn’t worthy of love or a family. Most of them told me my parents had dumped me on their doorstep because they hadn’t wanted me either.” Skye kept going, maintaining her momentum. “I was… angry. At my parents. At the nuns. At everyone. For a long time. But somehow I used the anger to fuel my conviction to work hard to get into college… to get away. I was accepted to MIT but… something bad happened and I ended up on the street. Miles took me in. He was the first person… he didn’t care that I had multiple marks. He got me motivated to learn how to hack so I could find my parents. I became very good. One of the best. But all I could find was there was a redacted SHIELD document linked to the circumstances behind my birth.” “So you hacked SHIELD and got caught,” Sharon said in realization. “On purpose,” Skye admitted, nodding. “I knew I couldn’t find the document from the outside, so I had to get inside. I just need to know…” she paused, still not looking at Sharon. “I need to know if it was true. If they left me because of my marks. Miles… I thought I owed him. It turns out he’s not who I thought he was.” “Hey,” Sharon said softly, lifting Skye’s chin with her hand. Sharon was crying quietly. “No matter what the truth is… if they don’t love you, it’s their loss. It was all their losses if they thought that. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their lives. And you’ve got a big family now that you’ve found me,” Sharon said softly after Skye finished. Sharon’s automatic acceptance of her produced a fresh wave of tears. “I should tell you. My last name’s Carter.” Skye stopped, her brain making the connections. “Wait… as in…” Skye said. Sharon nodded. “She’s my great-aunt. I don’t really broadcast it here though. I’m Sharon to anyone who knows me, and I’m working undercover more often than not. But I grew up with the other descendants of the Howling Commandos being my family so my family’s pretty big. They’re your family too now. So… you have another mark?” “Yeah,” Skye said, pulling up a pants leg to reveal cursive along her inner calf. Sharon revealed matching cursive on her stomach. “Looks like we have the same third out there somewhere.” “Makes things easier,” Skye agreed, nodding. “And no offense, but I wouldn’t be too keen on sharing someone as precious as you with someone I wasn’t mated to as well…” Sharon noted. “I’m not worth that… I mean, I’m not even a SHIELD Agent,” Skye said quietly. “I….” “What you are is my soulmate,” Sharon said, cutting Skye off gently. “And it’s your heart that matters to me, not where you work or what you do.” They ended up both curled around each other on the floor, optimizing skin contact and exchanging stories of their childhoods, when May burst in looking very annoyed. She went from annoyed to shocked almost instantly when she spotted the pair of them. “Skye…?” May said slowly. “What’s going on?” “It’s alright, Agent May,” Sharon said, tucking a strand of hair behind Skye’s ear as Skye’s face went bright red. “We’re soulmates.” May’s eyebrows actually raised. “We should keep this quiet,” she said after a long silence. “I’m watching Coulson the same way you were assigned to watch You-Know-Who.” “Ah,” Sharon said. “Fury told you?” “He read me in on everything that he knows on why he has agents watching various key players,” May said. “Barton’s on Stark, Morse is on… something I can’t talk about here. But Skye, we need to go. Coulson’s going to debrief everyone on what we’re cleared to tell you.” Skye was hesitant to extract herself from Sharon. Maybe it was the bond in the first stages of forming, but it was the first time that she had felt fully accepted by anyone. Sharon seemed equally hesitant. “I actually have to go too. Transport back to the Triskellion leaves in half an hour. I need to report in.” Skye fumbled for her phone then cursed when the phone errored out. May looked down at the phone. “I’ll talk to Coulson about lifting your restrictions so you can talk to Sharon,” the older agent promised. Sharon looked at her in surprise. “I won’t tell him why.” “Thanks,” Skye said quietly, looking wistfully at her soulmate. “Can you step outside for a moment while I talk to May about something?” Sharon asked. Skye gave Sharon a longing look that broke Sharon’s heart, then nodded and left the room. “Please take care of her,” Sharon said to May. “I want… I want the chance to give her the life she was denied. She deserves for someone to love her.” May raised her eyebrows in surprise. “She’s my soulmate, May. Of course I love her.” “No,” May said quietly. “I merely… Coulson and I have been looking for her parents and she’s been pestering us about it.” “You never did do well with pestering,” Sharon said compassionately. May nodded. “I suppose I never wanted to think about the fact she never had something we all take for granted.” “That’s why I need you to take care of her while I’m looking after Rogers. I don’t know who our third is and she doesn’t either. But if anything goes down with whatever it is that may or may not be going on… I want someone who’s going to be there for Skye.” “I’ll keep an eye on her,” May promised. A lot of Skye’s decision-making started to make a lot more sense to May as she watched her over the next few days. When Ward and Fitz were been sent off without an extraction plan, May could suddenly see the utter panic in Skye’s eyes clearly. Coulson was so caught up by the fact that Skye once again had broken the rules, so focused on the indiscretion, that he had missed the truth. Now that she was aware, though, May had seen and been amazed by it. They’d only known Skye a few short months and even though she still didn’t trust them completely, it seemed that Skye would break every rule in existence to keep them safe. Not many agents were so loyal. May couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if they had gotten to Skye sooner. What really worried May were her observations as the missions carried on after Fitz’s and Ward’s safe return. When Ward yelled and struck her after being influenced by the Berserker staff, May caught the look in Skye’s eyes. It wasn’t the initial hurt or shock that worried May, but the resigned look on Skye’s face after the hurt and shock faded. It was the way Skye slightly braced herself for another hit - verbal or physical. She hadn’t ever seen anything like it. There was expectation in Skye’s eyes. The expectation that the hits would just keep coming. Once the Asgardian revealed what the Berserker staff actually did, May spotted Skye giving images of the staff sidelong, fearful glances. How young had Skye been the first time she felt hate? How many families had abused the girl that she had stopped fighting back? It was no wonder that the girl seemed to love and accept everyone, but trust no one. It was clear to May that Skye had never had anyone to trust before that hadn't wound up betraying her. Suddenly, Skye’s actions with Miles became so much clearer. She had trusted him. Put her faith in him. And they had not only punished her for it, but most of the team had had a hard time forgiving her. Skye had been wrong and put her trust in the wrong person and May acknowledged that the punishment fit the crime, but they shouldn’t have been so harsh with her. On some level, it reminded her of the little girl in Bahrain. Skye just needed a reason to put faith in another person. She needed to be given a reason to trust that May could help take away Skye’s pain. If she couldn’t save that little girl, she had to atone for it by proving to Skye that she could trust again. Using SHIELD resources, May checked on a few things regarding Skye’s past and only found a few vague references to hospital records of a few young girls in the foster system that could have been Skye, but no full records. Skye was hiding from someone or something. May had spent enough years with Andrew to know that for certain. Who had hurt her and how badly became extremely important for May to find out, even though she knew it would change nothing. She had tracked down a snippet of information regarding several possible orphanages around New York Skye could have stayed at. A Level 2 agent was going to each one, but it would take time to track down the paper copies of any records that might exist. Even with just a few short weeks of May realizing that Skye had never been loved, she felt oddly protective of the young hacker. After the calamitous mission regarding Hannah and the ghost of the man who loved her, May felt the need to talk to her about why she had shot Hannah. During the mission, she had heard FitzSimmons and Ward talking to Skye about how May had gained her notoriety. “With me,” May demanded Skye that night after dinner. May led her to the cockpit and shut the door. “Look,” Skye said in a panic. “If this is about -” “I’m sorry,” May interrupted, wanting to skip over Skye’s habit of tripping over her own words. “I- what?” Skye asked, clearly perplexed. “I know you think I made the wrong decision using the ICER on Hannah today, and I’m sorry that I didn’t have time to explain. I can now, if you can promise to keep this between us?” Skye stared at her wide-eyed for a moment, then nodded. “I know some of the others have told you about the legend surrounding Bahrain, but the truth is… no one knows the truth. It was a situation that escalated quickly out of everyone’s control and a child ended up dying.” Skye gasped. May waited for the look of judgement or pity or disgust, but none came. Skye certainly looked sad, but May knew any human would. “I didn’t act fast enough then. I waited until I was out of options. I didn’t want this to be that kind of situation.” Skye very slowly sat down in the co-pilot’s seat, her eyes not leaving May’s. “I’m sorry,” Skye said eventually. “I didn’t… I mean… you’re a good agent, I should have trusted you. It’s been a long time since I was in a situation where I wasn’t the best in the room. I guess I’m not used to not knowing everything there is to know.” She shrugged. “It was an ICER. Non-lethal force. But thanks for sharing that with me.” She started to get up. “You can stay if you like,” May said, surprising herself by the offer. Skye paused at the door. “Yeah?” she asked, surprised as well. “Ever want to learn how to fly a plane?” May asked her. --------- Slowly, May started to see things from Skye’s perspective. She understood, knowing Skye’s background, why the young trainee so firmly believed that actions had consequences, no matter who you were. Even if you were SHIELD. The life in foster care, the eight years that was unaccounted for from the ages of sixteen to twenty-four that May hoped hadn’t all been spent homeless in a van because, no matter what she said, Skye had nowhere else to go. Or the possible years Skye did things so that she’d have somewhere to go. To say nothing of why Skye felt the need to leave the system at sixteen at all. The New York agent who had been tasked with tracking down Skye’s file succeeded in locating it and finally managed to get it hand-delivered to May. She read it while they refueled or maintenance was getting done or sometimes when she should have been sleeping. Now that she had it, she wondered what she should do with it or if she should tell anyone. Surely Fury would want to know who was on the plane. While the file provided a lot of answers, it also gave her a lot of questions. For some reason, maybe more out of habit than anything, May called Andrew first. He was a little confused, but he agreed to meet her for an afternoon while Coulson was trying to reach Fury and the rest of the team were playing video games. “Melinda?” Andrew said in greeting when she made it to the Bistro he suggested. “Andrew,” May said. “What’s… I mean, you were vague in your email. Something about an agent’s old foster care file?” “She’s not an agent yet,” May said, sitting down across from Andrew. “She’s consulting for one of our teams. We picked her up after she got caught hacking SHIELD.” Andrew raised an eyebrow. “The rehabilitation is… in progress.” “I bet,” Andrew said. “She was placed into the system by SHIELD as a baby,” May continued. “I only recently managed to obtain a copy of her files.” “How bad?” Andrew asked. He wasn’t a child psychologist, but he’d had enough experience with former foster kids to have a general idea of what to expect. “Over twenty placements, a dozen hospital visits, and then she ran away when she was sixteen and I suspect lived in a van or on the street for the next eight years until we found her,” May said. Andrew sighed. “She has issues with trust? Authority?” “That’s the thing,” May said as impartially as possible. “From what I’ve seen, it has less to do with distrusting people and more to do with her distrusting the system. She wants to trust us. I just don’t think she knows how. But there’s evidence that… she’s been given enough reasons to expect a negative outcome.” May slid Skye’s file across the table. She hated how thick it was. “You’re going to have to teach her, Melinda,” Andrew said. He flipped to the section on psychological evaluations and scanned it for a few moments. “From the looks of things, she gave up on The System a long time ago. I’ve seen it before in kids without a stable home; they don’t believe they’ll ever be accepted anywhere. That the next mistake will send them away. If you think SHIELD is the best place for her… you’re going to have to convince her that she has a place there, long-term. That a mistake isn’t going to change how SHIELD feels about her.” “Or make her a place?” May asked thoughtfully. “If you can, that might be the best thing for her.” “So if she were on a mobile command...?” May said. Andrew shook his head, “It wouldn’t be a good idea long-term. She needs home base. A bed that is hers and will always be hers. The file refers to two soulmarks. Is there any hint to who they are?” “She found one of them. They haven’t found the other; though her mark refers to being alone, it’s pretty generic.” “And she’s not with them now?” “Her soulmate is undercover,” May said softly. “Skye’s presence could possibly… compromise the situation.” “But they… they want her?” Andrew asked carefully. “More than anything,” May said nodding. Andrew nodded. “Once the soulmate’s mission is over, I recommend transferring Skye to a position where she can stay with them full-time. If she wishes to remain within SHIELD, she should be free to have that option.“ “The agent who recruited her won’t like it,” May noted. Coulson would have a cow if he knew what she was planning, but it was going to be the best thing for Skye. Once whoever was working against SHIELD was captured or killed, Skye deserved to go home. May knew then that the best way way to help Skye was to teach her how to defend herself. To give her a roots. A true mentor. That wasn’t going to be Ward. It couldn’t be. He wasn’t grounded himself. May knew that she’d have to bring up the subject of switching Skye’s assigned SO to Coulson soon. It hadn’t been a priority though. It should have been, but it wasn’t. Time sped by and it fell lower and lower on May’s to do list as watching Coulson’s and Skye’s backs became more and more complicated. May knew Skye was staying up and talking to Sharon almost every night and May was getting involved with Ward, though it was more for the young man’s benefit than her own. At Christmas, the team had gotten a full week off, as most mobile units did since they didn’t get weekends or sick leave. FitzSimmons were celebrating Christmas back in the UK, though whether they were celebrating together or apart they were rather vague about. Ward was going to some tropical island or another that May couldn’t care less about and Coulson was going to Wisconsin. May saw the micro-expressions of disappointment and fear on their young charge’s face as Coulson explained that they had to keep Skye at the Hub since she still was on probation. Her bracelet locked Skye down to a limited few floors at the Hub because Victoria Hand was concerned about “security breaches”. Eager to use work as an excuse for not going to either of her parents for the holidays, May volunteered to stay with Skye. Waking Skye up at 0500 that first morning of vacation had been interesting. “May?” Skye asked bleary-eyed when she opened her door. “What’s wrong?” “Come on,” May said. “Time for training.” “Ward’s gone, May,” Skye said, leaving her door open while she stumbled back to bed. May quirked an eyebrow as she followed Skye in. “I don’t have to train for the seven days and I plan to enjoy them.” “So you expect that I’m going to let you just laze around and do nothing all day?” May asked, challengingly. “I was hoping,” Skye said, covering her head with her pillow. “Are you serious about wanting to become an agent?” May asked, more curious than accusatory. “Right now I’m serious about sleeping ,” Skye grumbled. “What’d you do?” May asked. “Stay up all night?” Skye gave her a look. “You did ? Why?” Skye looked a little downcast and shrugged her shoulders. “No reason. I… I just haven’t seen her in a while,” she admitted. May knew exactly who Skye was talking about. “And since she met… I just... “ May remembered what Sharon had said about Skye never having had anyone to love her. She wondered if they shouldn’t have pulled Skye off the Bus to keep her closer to Sharon, but May knew the Bus was probably the safest place for Skye given how little they knew about whoever was infiltrating SHIELD. “It’s stupid,” Skye said blushing. “I’ve spent every other year of my life alone on Christmas. I don’t know why…” May gave her a searching look and Skye’s face went crimson. “I couldn’t sleep,” she finally admitted. She started to put on her workout gear. The space on the bus was so small that the girls dressed in front of each other and has long since lost embarrassment about it. “I suppose we could start later if you want to sleep.” “I’m fine,” Skye said, tying up her hair. “I won’t be able to sleep anyway. I’m already awake.” “Why don’t we start with some Tai Chi?” May suggested. That stopped Skye. “What?” “It’s a good way to warm up,” May said. “Stretches out the muscles and it’s a good focus practice. How does Ward usually warm you up?” “Basic stretches and five miles on the treadmill,” Skye said, pulling a face. May actually smiled a little. “I have a feeling you might like Tai Chi more. Not to say running isn’t important, but I prefer to work it into my workout later on rather than first thing.” After teaching Skye the basics of Tai Chi, May led her to the mats. “What…?” Skye said looking around. “Where’s the punching bag?” May froze and looked at her in confusion. “Hasn’t Ward taught you how to spar yet?” Skye shrugged. “Not really,” Skye said. “He’s shown me a couple of moves…” “Can you show me?” May asked. Skye actually didn’t look too bad showing May her moves, but May immediately spotted the obvious. Ward was training her to be a brute strength fighter while she needed to be trained like… well, like a woman. “That’s enough,” May said after a few minutes. “I think I have a good idea of where we can start.” “Sorry,” Skye said. “Physical activity has never been my strong suit. I thought about switching to SciTech but Fitz and Simmons started talking about chemistry and electrical engineering and I… got lost.” May smirked. “You probably would have gone to the Communications academy anyway.” “Why?” “Let me show you a few things and I’ll make sure all your questions are answered,” May said. Skye was rather amazed at how much she could learn in an hour. Towards the end, Skye actually felt like she knew how to throw a punch. “Let’s call it for now,” May said, going over and tossing Skye a water bottle. “Really?” Skye asked. She felt more exhausted than Ward’s workouts had ever left her, but she also felt like she’d accomplished something. “You want more?” May asked, giving her an appraising look. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I want to die, but you’ve already taught me more than Ward ever has and I’m assuming you’re doing this only because of some regulation or rule says you have to…” “I promised Sharon that I’d keep you safe. Letting Ward try to train you might be entertaining, but it wouldn’t fulfill my promise.” Skye was confused. “Why… would it be entertaining?” “Because apparently Ward can’t train you out of a paper bag,” May said, her voice gaining a harsh bite to it. It took a moment for it to register what May was saying. “Are you saying Ward was training me badly?” she asked. “I’m saying that he’s used to brute force. For women of our size and body type, you’ll never win a fight that way. I use my opponent’s strength against them more often than I use my strength.” “So there’s more than one way to fight?” Skye asked. Apart from SHIELD, the only fight experience she had was a few moves Matt had taught her, and he had learned them, she assumed, from his father the boxer. May actually looked a little amused. “Yes. There are many ways to fight. Some of them are just different styles and others benefit specific body types. Now come on, pack a few days’ worth of clothes. We’re going to a hotel.” Skye’s face fell. “But… I don’t have any money… You can go…” “It’ll make sense when we get there,” May said. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Skye packed a bag and within the hour they were in the nicest hotel she’d been in yet. It was the kind of place where you could pay for discretion and there were some extremely nice rooms. Instead of going to the front desk, May went directly to the elevators and they went up to one of the guest floors. May knocked on the door, a very confused Skye behind her. The door immediately opened and before Skye could register who was in the doorway, she had launched herself at them. Warm arms embraced her as her soulmark sang. “I thought I was going to have to spend another Christmas alone,” Skye admitted softly. “I could never leave a soulmate alone on Christmas,” Sharon said. Skye felt movement behind Sharon and she looked up to see Steve Rogers looking at her in reverence. “You’ll never be alone again as long as we can help it,” he said to her carefully. Skye’s mind went blank as her brain processed what Steve had just said. “None of us will,” Skye said with equal care after a moment. Steve broke into a grin. “It’s nice to meet you, Skye. Sharon’s told me a lot about you.” Skye looked at Sharon searchingly. “You could have mentioned that our mysterious soulmate that you met was Steve Rogers ,” Skye said. Sharon shrugged. “I wanted it to be a surprise, she said. “I need Skye for a minute,” May said. Skye came over and May took her hand “Disengage bracelet,” May said. Skye was shocked to see the bracelet unlock. “May?” she asked curiously. May pocketed the device. “I cleared it with the proper people. As long as you’re here, you don’t have to wear it.” Skye rushed forward and hugged May. May stiffened for a moment, then relaxed into the embrace. “I’m just a phone call away,” she said. “Sharon’s going to be in charge of your training over break, though I’m sure Steve will have plenty of pointers. I will be taking over once we’re back on the Bus so make sure you don’t slack off.” With that, May was gone. “We have a week,” Skye breathed. “Just the three of us… This is the best Christmas present ever,” Skye breathed as she unintentionally started undressing Steve with her eyes. Sharon laughed. “We figured we’d spend some time getting to know each other, get down and dirty, and lots of room service.” “Sounds… expensive,” Skye said carefully, looking around the room. Really it was a suite. There were two couches in front of a big screen TV and a fireplace below the flatscreen. Just behind one of the couches was a four-person dining table in an alcove. Beyond that was a small, very private balcony that looked out onto the city below. To her right, Skye could see a bathroom, complete with a large jacuzzi and to her left she could see the bedroom where she could only see a part of the bed, but it appeared to span the entire width of the room. Coulson had set her up with a bank account so she could deposit her income that SHIELD paid her, giving her access to savings for the first time in her life, but she still would never be able to afford a week in a place like this. “Stark kicked me out of the tower and handed me a credit card,” Steve said. “He said I needed to see more of the world. I might be using it as a cover as to why I’m here. Stark assures me the staff is extremely discreet, so it won’t get out that we’re here.” Skye was overwhelmed by the tidal wave of information. Not only was Sharon there, but they had a third now, and it was Steve Rogers. They were in a massive hotel suite that probably cost more money in one night than she’d paid for in rent in her eight years on the road total. “Let’s go to the couch and relax some,” Sharon said. They all ended up on the same L-shaped couch, Skye sitting a little stiffly. “How was your morning?” Sharon asked. “Pretty interesting, actually,” Skye said. “May taught me a lot of stuff that Ward has never even mentioned and she said that she’s going to be my SO from now on.” Sharon gave Skye an impressed look. “She must see potential in you. The last time May took on a rookie, it was Maria Hill.” “The deputy director of SHIELD?” Skye asked in shock. “But… May said I was better suited for Comms.” Sharon shrugged. “We’re probably all going to need to be able to defend ourselves against whatever’s coming.” “What are the differences between the Academies anyway?” Steve asked. “No one ever really explained it.” “SciTech division handles weapons and biochemical development, Ops is usually agents who are in the field, and Communications is made up of programmers and hackers like Skye who have built SHIELD’s networks from the ground up,” Sharon said. “Sounds like fun,” Skye said with a smile. “Is it hard to get in?” “You need to be able to proficiently program in six different languages just to be considered, and then you have to pass a bunch of tests. Most people wouldn’t understand this kind of stuff if someone sat down and explained it to them,” Sharon explained. “That said, students from Ops and SciTech equally think that Comms is easier to get into because the entry requirements don’t include any kind of formal education.” “Seems naive to think that one school is better than the other,” Steve said frowning. “We’re all working towards the same goal.” Skye lit up. “Pieces solving a puzzle,” she said smiling. She had been thinking that Fate had been crazy to place her in a triad with Steve Rogers, but now she wasn’t so sure. Steve nodded in agreement. “We couldn’t have won the War without the Commandos, but people like to put me in the spotlight.” “I get that,” Skye said. “The group I was with before, some of them liked to put me in the spotlight as the group’s best hacker. But I didn’t want to be the best, I just wanted to do my part.” Steve looked at her, eyes full of compassion. “Sharon told me about your background. It kinda just came out. I hope you don’t mind. Though with you as my soulmate I’m sure you’ll have me educated in no time.” Skye was relieved that she wouldn’t have to go through all of it with Steve. “I will. And I don’t mind you knowing about my past. I have no secrets from you guys.” She paused, a thought occurring to her. “You know, it never occurred to me, but we’re married in the eyes of the Catholic Church now, aren’t we?” she asked Steve. “We’ve completed our bond.” Sharon looked a little surprised by this news, but Steve nodded. “It’s been a long-accepted practice that since soulmates bond on a spiritual level, once a bond begins and is accepted by all soulmates involved, that’s when the marriage begins. It’s practically unheard of for soulmates to deny each other if they do meet, so the Church figured it would be inefficient to make them go through a lengthy marriage process when the union is blessed by God already.” “I’m glad US Law isn’t the same way,” Sharon said. “Not that I don’t want to be married, but it’s a little early for that.” Skye turned to Sharon and pecked her on the lips. “I’m okay with keeping things care-free for now. Especially since I’m on a Mobile Command and I don’t know when that’s going to end.” “You’re safer on the Bus than anywhere else,” Sharon said, kissing her back. “I know, I just missed you,” Skye said quietly. “I missed you too, Skye,” Sharon said softly. Skye had spent hours upon hours staying up late and talking to Sharon over the last few weeks, but once the initial shock of their third being Captain America , Skye realized that he was just Steve Rogers and he was a total stranger to her. “So have you read up on what they say these days about Captain America?” Skye asked before she lost her nerve. Steve laughed. “Nat seemed to think it was one of the more necessary parts of bringing me up to speed,” he said. “Most of it is true, but the whole ‘golden boy’ reputation was rather exaggerated.” “Yeah? So what’s the real Steve Rogers like?” Skye asked. Steve grinned. “I don’t know… just like every other guy, I guess. I’m just Steve from Brooklyn.” “Yeah, I’ve seen pictures,” Skye said, grinning. Steve blushed. “No, you were cute back then too.” “A girl like you wouldn’t have given me the time of day back then, let alone both of you,” Steve said. Skye scoffed. “I grew up in Hell’s Kitchen. I’ve dated my share of string-bean starving artists. That’s basically who my last boyfriend was, except he was more of a hacker-based artist.” Sharon nodded in agreement. “Yeah?” Steve asked, interested. “What happened?” Skye went red, still a little sensitive about Miles. “Turned out he wasn’t who he said he was. He told me he wanted to share all information freely and then he turned around and sold someone’s life for a million dollars.” Steve’s gaze went steely. “He’s in prison, right?” “He’s in worse than prison,” Skye said with a vindictive smirk. “He’s got a SHIELD bracelet on that’s so locked down he can’t go near a computer. It’s a fate worse than death for someone like him.” “Did he hurt you?” Steve growled. Skye shook her head, “Only my pride,” she said, instinctively putting a hand on Steve’s arm to calm him down. Once the mission had been over, she had allowed Miles’ betrayal to hurt. She hadn’t really expected comfort from the Bus Team, but since she had burned her Rising Tide ties and lost all her old friends in the process, it had been hard to stomach the team’s rejection when they hadn’t known the whole story. “I’m glad,” Steve said softly. “I just found you… I was unmarked in my first life. I… I don’t know what I’d do if I lost either of you.” Skye bit her lip, squeezed Steve’s bicep. “You’re not going to lose us, Steve,” she said softly. Skye listened as Steve told her about his life. Sharon already told Steve and Skye about her stories. Finally, they stopped when Skye’s stomach rumbled. Steve laughed. “My thoughts exactly. Sharon, did you find the room service menu?” Since she was on vacation, she ordered a burger and chips. Sharon, also clearly on vacation, had fish and chips. Steve had two pastramis with fries, chicken and waffles, and an order of lasagna. “You really gonna eat all that food?” Skye asked, impressed. “The serum burns through a lot of calories,” Steve admitted. He paused a moment. “Don’t worry, I’ll still have plenty of room for dessert.” Skye’s eyes widened, then decided to grin. “I don’t know. Normally I don’t order dessert on the first date, but with my soulmates I just might need seconds.” Sharon coughed, “You know, I think I see a fondue pot on the dessert menu.” Once lunch was delivered, They all settled down to eat on the dining table. It started with Steve stealing a chip from Skye’s plate once their waiter had left. Skye retaliated by stealing a fry. By the end of the meal, they were sitting next to each other, eating off of each other’s plates without hesitation. They had decided to hold off on the fondue pot until dinner (especially since the hotel offered a three-course fondue meal) and settled for a brownie a la mode with hot fudge on the side. After feeding each other dessert, they retired to the couch where they put on a movie and snuggled together. Afterwards, no one could really remember who started it, but Skye felt Steve rubbing her feet after a little while and at some point she snuggled close to Sharon and started kissing her deeply, trailing her lips over Sharon’s skin. Eventually, the world faded out and it was just the three of them on the massive couch. Once Steve had spent enough time on Skye’s feet, he moved to Sharon, cautious to split his attentions between the two of them. Skye used the opportunity to turn up the heat on her and Sharon’s makeout session. Steve’s hand started rubbing on the inseam on her jeans, causing Skye to make tiny moaning sounds. Skye could feel a growing mound press against her as Steve sandwiched her between him and Sharon, making her squeak a little uncomfortably. “I think that’s our cue to take this to the bedroom,” Sharon said breathlessly. Skye’s mind instantly went to the gymnastics of being in a sexual relationship with two other people. She’d never experienced a threesome, though Miles had repeatedly expressed interest on various occasions. She was very much comfortable with sleeping with a woman, but had always felt like if she’d participated in one with Miles she was cheating the universe or Fate. She wondered how it would work. Due to their proximity, Skye could feel the barest hint of hesitation from Steve as well. Sharon sensed the hesitation from both of them, then grabbed them and pulled them towards the bedroom. “Come on, Skye. Help me unwrap a National Monument,” she said, starting to undress Steve from the top down. Steve played along eagerly, toeing off his shoes. Skye unbuttoned and unzipped Steve’s jeans and started working the denim down his thighs. Skye was surprised to see that Steve went commando. “Oh yum, Steve,” Sharon said. Steve’s penis was red and throbbing and Skye’s brain broke as she vaguely wondered what alternate universe she’d fallen into that this was happening. “Doesn’t he look delicious, Skye?” Sharon asked as Steve toed off his jeans. Skye automatically licked her lips. “Take a taste,” Steve said, groaning at whatever Sharon was doing. Skye leaned forward and licked . It was like nothing Skye had ever experienced before. She licked some more, then took his penis in his mouth and sucked. She’d given head, certainly, but things had never synced up so easily. “Skye,” Steve was saying after not too long. “Skye I’m going to…” He cut off with a groan as warm, salty fluid entered her mouth and she swallowed. Steve sighed heavily and Skye looked up to see Steve’s hands under Sharon’s shirt as they kissed heavily. Skye came up behind Sharon and lifted her shirt, granting Steve easier access. Sharon’s lacy, hot pink bra made Skye a little self-conscious about her own underwear, a sports bra and raggedy underwear. She hadn’t come properly prepared for this. The underwear in her bag was all the same. Sharon moaned and tossed her head back. Steve used the opportunity to reach his torso around Sharon and kiss Skye so hard she practically saw stars. Skye helped Sharon out of her pants and underwear, which thankfully didn’t match, but were still cute, and Sharon led them over to the bed. “Get on my face Skye,” Sharon said invitingly while Steve began probing Sharon’s core with his fingers. Skye took off her pants and underwear, tucking the worn panties into her jeans to hide them. She approached Sharon a little timidly as Steve pumped a single finger in and out of Sharon’s core. “Come on, Skye,” Sharon said. “I want to see all of you.” Skye blushed, paused, then pulled her tee shirt off. “Beautiful,” Steve intoned. “Both of you are so…” “Perfect,” Sharon panted in agreement. She cried out as Steve hit a specific spot. “Are you ready, Sharon?” Steve asked, nervousness in his voice. “Only if Skye gets over here and sits on my face like I told her,” Sharon said. Skye’s core clenched in a way she’d never felt before when someone gave her an order. It forced her into action, straddling Sharon’s face, facing towards Steve. Skye helped Steve put on a condom while Steve’s fingers were busy. Steve was big by anyone’s standards, but for Skye herself… it’d be a bit more of a stretch than she was used to. “I’ll fit,” Steve said reassuringly as Sharon groaned, then intensified her tongue work on Skye’s clit. Skye groaned herself. “Think I don’t know that after I just gave you a blowjob?” “Yeah, sorry,” Steve stammered, pausing to allow Sharon to adjust. “I don’t… I mean…” “Steve?” Skye asked. “Are we popping your cherry right now?” “No…” Steve said slowly. “But you’re not very experienced?” Skye asked. “There were a couple of girls… most girls didn’t give me the time of day. I hope you don’t…” Skye closed her eyes, heat curling in her core. “It’s fine,” She said, unable to speak much further. Skye felt Sharon stiffen and cry out as she came. Skye followed not too soon after, stiffening before slipping onto the bed, panting. Steve came not long after. Skye could practically feel the bond strengthen. “You two haven’t done that before?” Skye asked hesitantly, a little shocked. Sharon sat up a little, looking a little confusedly at Skye. “We’d never…” she said slowly, looking hurt. “We wanted to wait for you. Give Steve a minute and we’ll prove it to you.” “I don’t… I don’t know if I can orgasm again,” Skye said. “Trust us,” Sharon said. “Just relax, and we’ll get you there. Just follow my lead.” Skye had a feeling that Sharon was going to be driving a large portion of situations like this one, at least for a while. Sharon rearranged Skye so that Sharon was sitting with Skye’s head in her lap.”Close your eyes…” Sharon said softly, starting to stroke Skye’s shoulders and arms and sides, kissing her deeply from time to time. She tweaked one of Skye’s nipples at odd intervals so that Skye couldn't determine a pattern. Skye yelped the first few times, then moaned and groaned as she felt wetness curl between her legs. Sharon said something and Steve was moving her legs apart and sticking a thick, rough finger into her vagina. Time passed, though Skye wasn’t sure how long. She felt Steve brush a spot inside of her a couple of times and the last time, her body arched to meet him. Then, suddenly, she could feel as Steve entered her, stretching her until it felt like she was going to tear apart. Sharon’s attentions stopped and the world came back a little. Steve was inches from her face. She could feel his hard abs against her flat stomach. “Everybody okay?” Sharon asked. “Mmmm…” Skye said, rather unable to use words. “Yeah,” Steve said in a strained voice. “Steve, I think it’s time to fuck her senseless,” Sharon said with a smile. “I think you're right,” Steve agreed. And they did. They didn’t spend the whole week naked, of course. Exercise equipment was delivered to their room every morning and they all worked out together. They talked about their pasts, the future, and some truly deep conversations were had from the jacuzzi tub. All three discovered they had different parts of them in common with one soulmate or the other. Sharon and Steve had told them about their apartments in Washington. They showed her pictures and things which made Skye feel something that she’d never been. Homesick. The largest Christmas feast Skye had ever seen was served to them on Christmas Day, and even with Steve’s appetite they had leftovers for a few days afterwards. There were a few days where the three of them went straight back to bed after their morning workout and lounged around all day, but for the most part they made the most of their suite. There were in-room massages, hot chocolate, and a lot of getting to know one another. “Penny for your thoughts?” Steve asked, curiously. Skye turned and smiled at him, then turned back to the New Year’s Eve fireworks that could be seen from their balcony. Skye was amazed to find that she had blinked and week had passed. “I just… I don’t want to go back,” she admitted softly. “I think…” she hesitated, but they had bonded so much over that there was no hiding anything from her soulmates. “I’m afraid that I’m going to go back and wake up and this all would have been a dream.” Steve wrapped his arms around her, his front to her back so they could both watch the colored explosions. “I swear to you, Skye. I will spend every breath that I can reminding you that it isn’t. I have something for you.” He produced a StarkPad that he’d been working on, off and on all week, with a stylus. The screen held a digital drawing of the three of them, all wrapped up together in the sheets and blankets of their hotel bed. “I want you to hold on to this,” he said softly. It took a moment for Skye to realize that he meant the tablet. “Steve,” she said softly. “I thought we agreed to no gifts this year?” “It’s not to keep,” Steve said. “It’s for the three of us to share. But you’re going to need it most right now. There are all our photos on there too and that cloud… thing…” “Steve, there aren’t any dirty pictures on here…” Skye said. She had talked to them about the privacy of the internet and how they would have to be careful. “No,” Steve said. “Just pictures of us. Pictures to remind you how special you are. Just hold onto it until this whole undercover business is over. I want you to remember who you are, but also, no matter what, I want you to remember that both of us will come for you the second you need us to.” “It’s freezing out here,” Sharon said coming out wrapped in a throw. “Why are we out here again?” “Because I want to watch the celebration,” Skye said. “Besides, “Steve and I don’t really get cold. Not like you do.” Steve never got cold any more, and Skye had had to endure enough cold winters in threadbare clothes that she simply didn’t notice anymore. “Unfair,” Sharon pouted. She swiftly lost it as she grinned and indicated the waiters behind her. “The chef sent up a huge tray of desserts and a chocolate fondue fountain with his compliments. Something about him owing Steve a debt for saving his grandfather.” The waiters set up the veritable buffet and left them to their privacy. “I get that more often than you’d think,” Steve said. “There were a lot of POW Camps and Concentration Camps that the Howling Commandos liberated, especially at the end of the war. Even though I wasn’t with them when a lot of liberations happened, people tend to associate me with their loved ones surviving.” “So you let them thank you,” Skye said, curious. Steve nodded. “I wish they wouldn’t, but I understand. Rebecca, Bucky’s sister, had children and grandchildren before she passed. I feel like I owe them something, even though they insist I don’t.” “We all owe and are owed for our actions and inactions,” Sharon said wisely. “It’s the universe in balance. It’s not about ‘score’.” Skye swiped a strawberry and dunked it into the chocolate. She let the night air cool the chocolate for a few seconds before smearing a bit on Sharon’s nose. “Come on, no deep or sad talks tonight. We should celebrate what we have right now, not what might happen or what has.” -------- The next morning sucked. May picked her up right after morning workout, and it had been a more tearful goodbye than Skye was anticipating in front of May. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…” she said once they were in the car. “You might want to clean up when we get back to base,” May said. “FitzSimmons are due in two hours and both of them would be curious if you looked like you’d been crying.” “Did you have a good week?” “Lots of reading, lots of meditating, lots of quiet,” May said. “So the best week ever?” Skye joked, trying to force herself out of the funk that separating from Sharon and Steve had put her in. May’s smile turned up very slightly. “I very much enjoyed it. You seem… different.” “You haven’t known me very long,” Skye pointed out. “I suppose that’s true. But you seem… calmer. More relaxed.” “It might be the bond,” Skye noted. “I can still feel them.” “Good,” May said. “It’s good that you bonded with them so well.” “Yeah,” Skye said. “Is… is Ward still my SO?” “Coulson approved the transfer verbally. When he comes back this afternoon, he’ll sign the paperwork.” “For the record,” Skye said slowly. “Thank you.” “Don’t thank me yet. I’m going to make you hate yourself by the end.” “I want this,” Skye said. “Now, more than ever.” “Does anyone know about your soulmarks?” May asked. “Apart from Miles? Just the nuns and a friend of mine I haven’t seen in a decade,” Skye said. “Would Miles tell anyone?” May asked. “Nah. I mean, he’s anti-government, but he knows we both have secrets. Besides, even if he does spill, having two marks isn’t exactly unheard of.” “True. So you never told FitzSimmons or Ward about Agent Carter?” Skye looked down at her lap. “I didn’t. Maybe I should have trusted them…” “It’s better that you didn’t,” May said. “Being the soulmate of… Let’s just say half the people are going to want to be your friend and half the people are going to hate you.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Ward was more than a little pissed when he found out that Skye was no longer his rookie. He made snide comments about the change, and watched Skye and May spar and train on numerous occasions. Skye knew that Ward didn’t notice that she noticed it, and also the gazes that he kept giving her. It was getting kind of creepy. Even FitzSimmons started to pick up on Ward’s behavior. He snapped at FitzSimmons more often, once getting so loud that Skye locked herself into the cockpit and refused to come out until Ward had calmed down. Coulson tried to explain it to Skye that it might be after-effects of the Berserker staff. Skye didn’t point out to Coulson that May wasn’t acting any different. In fact, May was acting almost kind to Skye. She encouraged Skye to use the cockpit whenever she wanted to, since it was unofficially off-limits to everyone else, and was ever so slowly giving Skye a foundation that she’d never had before. Rather than having all the downtime that Ward had given her, May had her studying various fight styles, manipulation techniques, both Mandarin and Farsi, the basics of how to withstand interrogation, and how to fly an airplane. Soon it seemed that Skye’s every waking moment was being spent training and she was exhausted every night by bedtime. Skye had thrown herself into learning everything May could teach her and she especially enjoyed flying. Even just cruising at altitude was an exhilarating feeling and Skye understood the attraction. In addition to the rush, there was something special about being up there with the clouds. It was peaceful, and since May didn’t talk much, it gave Skye time to sort out her thoughts and text with her soulmates. Most of the time she’d call Sharon or Steve to talk at bedtime and fall asleep mid-conversation. Her schedule was so packed that she was practically dreaming about training in her sleep. Though she was a little shocked at what real Ops training looked like (at least by May’s standards), May seemed to play to Skye’s strengths and Skye was amazed to find that she was improving during their sessions and it was getting easier to wake up at 5am. It was only because May was teaching Skye non-verbal communication that she picked up on what May wanted her to do when Hand kicked Skye off the Bus. She immediately set to work tracking Coulson down by following the money. It took some creative thinking, since Hand had locked her bracelet security way down, but Skye had finally nailed it and called the location into May. “Good job,” was the praise she got when she came back to the plane. May reached for her bracelet. “Disengage bracelet.” “May?” Skye asked in confusion. “You earned it,” May said. “You took my orders, didn’t panic and call your soulmates, and trusted us to have your back. Don’t think I don’t know how big that is for you.” Skye suddenly rushed forward and hugged May tightly. “Thank you,” Skye said quietly. “I… you’re right. I trust you. I’m sorry it took me so long.” “We all go at our own pace with these things, Skye,” May said calmly, extracting herself from the hug. “Now come on, I want you to do pre-flights solo and I’ll supervise you taking off.” Skye wasn’t really surprised by the SciTech Academy. It looked like a college campus - the type of place that she generally avoided. It wasn’t that she hated school, but she hated the people who came out of it. They had a tendency to dismiss or deride her. She was surprised to hear that Ward had never been to this academy either, and the conversation quickly switched to the differences between the three schools. “Comms is the school that you’d be in, Skye,” Simmons said dismissively. “It’s the easiest to get into.” The words stung Skye, even though she knew Simmons wasn’t aware of the effect of her words. “Why do you say that?” she asked, using the training that May had taught her. “Simple academics. You don’t even need a High School diploma to get in,” Simmons said. Ward was giving Skye a suspicious glance, clearly wondering where she was going with the conversation. “So what is required?” Skye asked. “I mean, there has to be some kind of requirement.” “I think you need to pass a few tests regarding computers and data analytics,” Fitz chimed in. “So you need to know how to code,” Skye said nodding. “Since Comms deals with SHIELD’s network, I’m assuming you need to know more than one language.” Simmons frowned. “I guess,” she said slowly. “And since it deals with Network Security, I’m assuming you need to understand a good deal of the policies set by the Rainbow Books,” Skye continued. “Probably a good portion of TCP/IP protocols, firewall security prevention which includes white hat hacking because you can’t prevent hacking without knowing how to do it… oh, and physical server safety measures against fire and water damage.” Fitz looked rather impressed while Simmons and Ward looked entirely lost. “That’s a good point,” Fitz said earnestly. “How do you know so much about Comms Academy?” Skye shrugged. “A little bird told me that to get into Comms Academy you need to know six computer languages. You know, most of the best hackers don’t have high school degrees. It’s smart of them not to make it a requirement.” “Guess we shouldn’t be counting Comms out of the race of what’s the hardest to get into,” Fitz said with a grin. “Don’t you think, Simmons?” “Yeah,” Simmons said, looking suspiciously at Skye. Maybe it was more bold than she usually was on the Bus, but it had been hard not to be after spending time with Steve. When the mission was over and Gill was in custody, Skye found herself back in the Bus’ cockpit, quietly texting Sharon and Steve and avoiding FitzSimmons and Ward. The cockpit had become a bit of a haven, since she and May were the only two who ever went up there. She tried her best to shake off the underhanded remarks she heard from her teammates at the Academy. ‘Wish we could be there to give you hugs,’ Sharon texted her. ‘You’re perfect just the way you are,’ Steve added. He’d been getting better at texting since Skye had been patiently teaching him how. ‘Most people in my day didn’t have a degree anyway.’ They texted back and forth while May and Coulson and Ward were outside dealing with the aftermath. She knew that normally May would have her shadowing her, but after seeing the look on Skye’s face, she sent her to the Bus. Slowly but surely, she began to feel more like herself. There was more to life than a degree, and her soulmates loved her regardless of if she had no degrees or a million. After a while, May came in; Skye put away her phone and started pre-flight checks without May prompting her. May sat down, nodding in approval at Skye’s work, then hit the com. “Everybody strap in,” she said into the microphone so everyone on the Bus could hear her. Skye took off, and they sat in silence for a minute before Skye spoke up. “You ever wish people saw you for who you really are? I mean… I assume because of the whole nickname thing you do, but I know there’s more to you than some bad-ass ninja with rageface.” May glanced over at Skye who shrugged. “I mean, I guess all of us really aren’t the way people see us in the grand scheme of things but it would be nice for people if they could see the truth.” “Did something happen?” May asked patiently. “The others think I’m dumb,” Skye admitted. “They still think I was caught by SHIELD, rather than letting myself get caught so I could find out the truth about my parents.” This had been a point of discussion between May and Skye during training. Since May had processed the fact that Skye had been so desperate to find her parents she’d let herself be caught by SHIELD, they’d talked a lot about it. “They…” she stopped to swallow and will away the tears that were welling up. “These last ten years, everyone’s always ever seen what they wanted to. Poor, orphaned, dumb Skye. Even Miles sometimes treated me like I was… worthless. But the life I left… I was a straight A student who had skipped two grades, had a perfect score on the SATs, and an early admission to MIT. I mean, I was a foster kid. Some of the homes weren’t exactly easy to be in and my life was far from idyllic, but I had a support system. I had friends. I was happy...” May sat silently, waiting for Skye to be ready to continue, somehow sensing she wasn’t done. “But the latest foster home I was in… bad things happened there. I got into a situation where it was life or death and I couldn’t see a way out. So I ran. And the girl… Mary Poots was what the nuns had named me... Mary didn’t exist any more after that. The placement changed me too much.” “So you became Skye,” May concluded. Skye nodded. “Suddenly the truth behind where I came from was more important. It probably wasn’t the right way to go about things,” she admitted. “But I was sixteen and terrified. I had nowhere to go. No one to help me.” “Skye, what happened at SciTech Academy?” May asked gently. Skye shrugged, “It’s fine. It’s stupid anyway. Simmons just made it clear that she thinks I’m not smart enough to get into SciTech. It just made me wonder…” “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” May said compassionately. “You… you don’t sound surprised,” Skye said incredulously. “I knew most of it already. Your file included the court case. I think after all the charges were added up, the foster parent in question was sentenced to 90 years in prison with no chance of parole. He’ll die in there for what he did.” May had informed Skye that she had gotten her file from St. Agnes’. Skye had been fearful at first, but once May had made it clear she wasn’t going to judge her, Skye seemed to calm down. “Does Coulson know?” Skye asked softly. “No,” May said honestly. She’d removed that part of Skye’s file even when sharing it with Andrew. Some things, May knew from experience, were better left private. “Can you promise me that you’ll keep it that way?” Skye requested. “I’ll keep it quiet unless it’s absolutely necessary,” May promised. Skye looked at her sharply. “What I mean is, if Coulson not knowing would put you in danger in some way, I’d tell him, but it’s your choice who knows as long as no one is harmed or in danger.” “It’s just… a part of my past that I don’t want to talk about. I mean, Steve and Sharon know…” It had been a hard night when Skye had told them about the placement over Christmas break. Steve had nearly broken several items as she told the story until Skye let him hold her. Sharon had gone very pale. They had spent the rest of the night caring for Skye to reassure themselves that everyone in their bond was all right. “I get it,” May said. “Thank you for trusting me.” They sat in silence for a long time after that, Skye glanced at the StarkPad Steve had lent her which sat propped next to the consoles as she flew. “Do you want to know what we found in Mexico?” May asked nearly an hour later. Skye looked up from what she was doing. “If you can,” she said slowly. May carefully told Skye a rephrased version of what Lumley had told them. She talked about how a village had been destroyed and whatever had been after Skye had started killing off the agents who had rescued her, so she’d been placed in the foster system as a 0-8-4 for her protection. Skye was heartbroken that so many people had died because of her, but May gently corrected her and insisted that Skye wasn’t responsible for their deaths, reminding her that she was just a baby at the time. That it was on someone else for all the deaths that had been caused. Their next mission was one to Italy. Hearing her rookie over coms reminded May that she needed to teach Skye how to fake an accent. Unfortunately, the mission turned into the biggest FUBAR that May had ever seen, and the team ended up scattered across the Italian countryside. With the rest of the team preoccupied, Skye had gone in alone to stop Quinn. She hadn’t come out again. They found Fitz in the middle of the driveway, unconscious. The house was abandoned and, just as suddenly as Skye had entered their lives, she had disappeared without a trace. Fitz was fine, except for a goose egg from being hit from behind. He blamed himself more than anything. Simmons similarly looked on the edge of tears and Ward gained a default ‘hate face’, as Skye had originally put it. May had immediately put in a call on her private line to Fury, worried about the rookie, and received orders to get to the Triskellion as quickly as possible. The second they landed at the Triskellion, May and Coulson were escorted to a meeting alone, to the others’ strong objections. Whatever meeting there was about Skye, the junior agents clearly wanted to attend. Coulson was more than a little confused at the fact that FitzSimmons and Ward were being excluded, but May knew exactly why they were being left out. If Centipede had any connection to whatever Fury thought was coming… they might need more than just Steve Rogers to keep their feet under them. Especially since Steve probably wasn’t feeling particularly objective at the moment. And since they didn’t know who to trust, they had to keep things in house. Reading Coulson in to the situation was going to be chaotic enough. Coulson’s eyebrows rose when he spotted Steve and Sharon there, huddled together. May made a beeline for them, since they’d know the most about Skye’s current state. Sharon suddenly collapsed to the ground sobbing while Steve held onto her for dear life. Pain lined both of their faces. “Is she alright?” May asked. “Please tell me she’s alive…” When Sharon couldn’t answer, May cupped both sides of Sharon’s face with her hands, an edge of desperation in her voice. “Sharon. I know it hurts. But I need you to answer.” “She’s still alive,” Sharon gasped softly between her sobs. “But… she’s in so much pain...” Sharon buried herself back in Steve’s arms. May sank to her knees, trying her best not to be reminded of the little girl in Bahrain. Had she failed Skye as well? Steve seemed grief-stricken himself but seemed to have a better tolerance for the pain they were both clearly in. “We’re afraid that they’re questioning Skye about… about us,” Steve said in a hollow voice. “About me.” “What are you talking about?” Coulson asked bluntly. “Why is Skye so important to you two? What the hell is going on?” “Well, apart from what she can do to any computer network in the world,” May said slowly. “She’s their soulmate.” Coulson’s eyebrows shot skyward. “What?” he asked in a dazed voice. “I met her at the Hub a few months ago,” Sharon said. “We all spent Christmas together…” “Why keep it from me, though?” Coulson asked. “Why keep it quiet at all?” His question was valid. Soulmates were something that were celebrated because they were so rare. For a triad to be completed was a big deal “It was decided it was best to keep it quiet,” May said. “SHIELD has been infiltrated,” Fury said. “A group has been working against us. I’m keeping the information as compartmentalized as possible because we don’t know how many members are in SHIELD or how high it goes.” “How high do you think…” Steve started. “At least one member of the World Security Council is involved,” Fury said. “I found that out just after the Battle of New York.” “Who?” Coulson said. Fury looked directly at Steve when he answered. “HYDRA.” For a solid ten seconds, nobody said anything. “I killed the Red Skull. The Commandos defeated HYDRA…” Steve said slowly. “It seems that they somehow survived,” Fury said. “I’ve got a mole who came to me about a month after New York. Unfortunately, they keep things compartmentalized, so he doesn’t know much. He’s been doing his best to get me information on membership and last I heard, he’s currently trying to get information on where they’re holding Skye.” The others were processing the information, so Sharon spoke up. “How would they know she was our soulmate? We’ve never put anything officially on the record, so unless someone had eyes on the Hub…” Sharon paled, shooting a look at Fury while Steve set his jaw, cold fury in his eyes. “I think the real question is how do we find her and get her back,” Steve said determinedly. “You two will be assigned to Coulson’s team while you’re tracking down where they took Skye,” Fury said. “I’ll be in contact with my mole to try and find anything out.” ---------- Skye wasn’t sure how long she’d been there. She knew they had beaten her and questioned her about SHIELD. They seemed to know about her soulmarks as well as who they belonged to. When she’d faced down Quinn in the Villa, she hadn’t expected to face an army of Quinn’s men as well. After watching Mike get his new leg and become Deathlock, she had attempted to escape so she could pass on the intel, but she’d been drugged and quickly subdued. She assumed that she was still drugged, since her head felt fuzzy as she sat with her back to a stone wall. Where, she was unsure. She had no concept of where she was or how much time had passed. The only way to mark time was the fact that soldiers came in intermittently and take her to a man named Whitehall. Whitehall had been tasked with trying to get her to talk, which involved him injecting her with various concentrations of truth serums, having thugs beat her, and drugging her with other cocktails. He even tied her up and got her drunk once. She had been promised that if she talked, it would all end, but even though she hadn’t eaten in days and every inch of her was covered in bruises, she refused to talk, at least about the subjects they wanted to hear about. SHIELD had protected her when she was a baby and agents had given their lives. It was her turn to return the favor. She couldn't betray her soulmates. So instead she talked about everything else. She started listing every episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer she remembered, in order, including the synopsis, guest stars and a review. After Buffy was covered she moved on to Firefly, and then a very hearty one-sided debate regarding the best Star Trek series, characters, and episodes. She confessed her soft spot for tribbles, her high school crush on Janeway, and her secret Star Trek fanfiction archive she kept on a ghost drive. Later, she lay on the floor after her last beating, barely conscious, only regretting not being able to say goodbye to her soulmates. However much time had passed, she knew she was getting pretty sick and doubted these goons would intervene. She hadn’t walked in ages to her torture sessions. Her knees and ankles hurt horribly from the beatings and she was too weak to stand. Instead, two of them dragged her to Whitehall for each ‘session’. She was sure that her feet were bleeding since they had taken her shoes and socks. Two of them had been talking about how using something called Faustus to get her to comply hadn’t worked. She vaguely recalled being strapped to a machine and the white-hot pain that had hit her as she’d been forced to look at the blinding lights. She raised her head briefly, barely withholding the groan of pain, and noticed that the room was empty and the computer they were using to take notes was left unattended. She internally nodded to herself decidedly. If she was going to go down, she was going to give her soulmates a fighting chance. She staggered over and managed to get herself into the chair in front of the computer. Barely able to hold herself up, she started typing. The fact that one side of her face was so swollen that she could only see out of one eye made it harder and one of her hands ached as she typed, but she was determined. She needed to find out who had her and where she was. After geotagging her position and sending it to every source she could think of, then started checking the logs. If not for the urgency of her situation, she would have been shocked by the fact that the files that she was locating were labeled HYDRA. She simply didn’t have the energy for emotions. She happened across a few lists that gave her a good idea of who was HYDRA and who wasn’t at SHIELD - at least those level 6 and above. She copied the list to the server she shared with Sharon and Steve, included a very quick goodbye in a TXT file, then erased her activity. At least now if she didn’t get out alive, they’d have some way to identify who was who within HYDRA. She heard footsteps so she logged off and as quickly as possible got as far away from the computer as possible. Just before the door opened, she threw herself to the floor, sliding another foot. This time she couldn’t hold back her cry of pain as her ribs protested the movement. The footsteps approached and a large figure bent over her. She stiffened, prepared for the worst. “You’re going to be okay, Skye. I’m here to help you,” came a gravelly voice. “My name is Brock and I’m an Agent of SHIELD. I don’t stand with HYDRA.” Skye stared at Brock as she suddenly began to cough. Brock took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. She felt relief flood her body as she lost consciousness, only able to feel the pain in her body and the pressure from Brock’s hand. She floated in the darkness, unsure about the passage of time. “Hold on, Skye. They’re coming. Just hold on a little longer,” said a voice. She didn’t know how to answer. She was so cold. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Three weeks had passed and SHIELD was no closer to finding Skye. Steve had grown tired of FitzSimmons’ increasingly frustrated bickering, Ward’s glaring at Sharon and Steve, and Coulson’s tense, constant presence like a worried father over a missing daughter. But then they got a breakthrough. Steve received an encrypted communication from an unknown source to check with Stark, that’d he’d have information on where she was. Steve had barely waited for Coulson and May to join him and Sharon before speeding off towards Avengers Tower. “Capsicle, you said you needed access to JARVIS?” Tony said when May, Coulson, Steve, and Sharon entered the common floor of the tower. He hadn’t looked up at all. “Something about someone you’re missing?” “A consultant,” Coulson said. Tony’s hand froze on his tablet as he registered the voice. His face was pale when he looked up at the group. For once, the futurist was dead silent. Wordlessly staring at Coulson. “Not an LMD, by the way. And yes, I was actually dead.” Steve clenched his jaw. He hadn’t reacted well to the idea that Fury had brought Coulson back from the dead. Coulson had taken ten minutes to yell at Fury after the dust initially started to settle about Skye. The only reason why he stopped was because May reminded him that Skye was still in danger. Steve planned to yell at Fury more, once Skye was safe. “Our soulmate was on a mission for SHIELD and she was kidnapped three weeks ago. I got intel that you’d be able to track her down.” “So we’re just not going to talk about the fact that he was dead and now he’s standing in our living room?” Tony said, clearly angry. “We’ll get to it after our soulmate is safe,” Steve said gruffly. Tony stared at Steve for a moment then nodded. “You got intel on your girl?” Tony asked. May handed over the thumb drive that included everything they had on Skye. “Wait… this is Skyenet,” Tony said, scanning something. “ The Skyenet? You lost her? You had her and lost her? Does SHIELD know how to do anything right?” “Who?” Coulson asked. “She’s pretty much the best hacker in North America. Certainly one of the best in the world. I’ve been trying to recruit her for years, but I could never get her to sign on. Could barely track her. Only met her in person once and it was sort of by accident. How the hell did SHIELD manage to get her on their side? If I’d known she was willing to go government, I would have made her a different offer. I can pay better and I offer better benefits.” “She got caught hacking our servers,” Coulson said. “There wasn’t exactly a choice in the matter.” Tony burst out laughing. “You think… you think you caught the same woman who made swiss cheese of pretty much every intelligence agency server in the world without leaving so much as a digital footprint?” Coulson furrowed their eyebrows and looked at May before looking back at Tony. “Is she really that good?” Coulson asked. “She confessed to me that she let herself get caught,” May revealed. “She wanted to find her family so badly that she was willing to risk prison.” “I’m very good at hacking,” Tony added, not looking up, “but I’d be an idiot if I didn’t admit to the fact that she can hack circles around me.” Both May and Coulson were gobsmacked. “Either I’m dreaming or hell just froze over,” May murmured, a proud smile appearing for an instant. “Did you admit that someone is better than you in a tech-related field?” Coulson asked, shocked. “Proudly,” Tony said. “JARVIS, check the usual IRC channels and Reddit threads for Skyenet’s presence.” “Of course, sir,” JARVIS said. “So, good enough for an enemy agency to kidnap her to force her to hack something?” May asked, fearing the answer. They assumed that it had been Centipede, but Quinn could have handed Skye off to anyone. Tony was already typing away. “She’s better.” “Sir, there are several messages with Skyenet’s username was geotagged 3.56 hours ago.” “Where?” Steve demanded. “El Hierro island,” JARVIS reported. “Get the jet ready,” Steve said. “And suit up.” Thor was off-world and Tony waved Bruce off assisting with the rescue mission since Bruce didn’t like bringing out the Hulk unless absolutely necessary, but the others were ready within fifteen minutes. Sharon, Coulson, and May all insisted on coming along as well, but Tony put his foot down. “I still don’t know if I can trust you, Walking Dead,” he told Coulson. “You and your partner in crime stay here. Avengers and Soulmates only.” The tension was thick as they flew to the small island off Spain. It was there that they followed the GPS coordinates in the geotagged internet post JARVIS found to a cave on the coast. As they approached the cave, Steve spotted two people loading a small plane. One sped up his actions while the other reached for the radio. Clint loosed an arrow, knocking the radio out of the guard’s hand. The guard gave a shout as Natasha leapt on the guard loading the plane and used her Widow Bites to knock him out. Two more guards appeared. Tony knocked one back with a repulsor while Steve threw his shield at the other, knocking them out. Clint dealt with the last guard while Steve, Sharon, and Natasha rushed down into the cave. The cave was cold and wet, making Steve’s worry increase exponentially. “JARVIS, any hint of a broadband device being used from here?” Natasha asked. “None that I can tell,” JARVIS responded. “However, it is in a position of the cave where regular broadband signal could be sent and received without much interference.” “No one on the plane,” Clint said, coming up behind them. “Tony’s tying everyone up so we can take them back for questioning.” They fanned out, continuing the search. “Steve!” Sharon cried in a strangled voice from another part of the cave. Immediately, Steve made a beeline for Sharon who collapsed into his arms as she watched Natasha kneeling over… Skye. She was lying on on the stone floor, barely breathing, her eyes slightly open but clearly unfocused. She was dressed in the same clothes Coulson had reported she had been wearing when she had been taken, though they were now nearly shredded, damp, and dirty. Natasha was easily tearing them off to access Skye’s chest and get her out of the cold clothes. Sharon gasped at the bruises on Skye’s skin in addition to the young woman’s half-swollen face. “Clint, get the blanket and the stretcher,” Nat demanded worriedly. Clint came up beside Steve and pulled the warming blanket out of his backpack and started putting together a collapsible stretcher. Natasha immediately started securing Skye’s prone body to it, putting foam inserts snugly around everything. Once Sharon had righted herself, Steve grabbed the blanket out of his hands, then covered Skye with it. “Careful, Steve,” Clint warned. “We don’t know if she has a spinal cord injury.” The moment Steve touched her though, Skye’s unfocused eyes opened and drifted towards Steve. “Trus’cap,” Skye mumbled. “Trus’cap.” “Hold on, Skye. You’ll be okay. Just hold on,” Steve pleaded desperately, not realizing that his last words to his best friend mimicked his words to his soulmate. “Her pulse is pretty slow,” Nat said. “Hypothermia. We need to get her to the jet.” “What? But she’s not shivering,” Steve said, trying to wrap her tighter in the heat-saving blanket. She barely responded, just winced a little. “Happens with hypothermia when it gets bad,” Clint said. Skye was still looking at Steve with unfocused eyes. “Side rah,” she whispered. “Shh shh,” Sharon said, trying to ease Skye into quieting down. They started rushing for the plane. Once they had her settled on the floor, Clint went to start the engines. Steve could see that Tony had loaded all four guards on the plane, but they were still knocked out. Steve pulled away so Tony could scan Skye and Natasha could start applying first aid, but Skye clung to him. “Side rah,” she said again, futilely trying to fight Sharon and Nat off, determination shining in her eyes. “Trus’cap… side rah. Goddaliss...” “We know, Skye, we know,” Sharon cooed desperately from where she was kneeling at Skye’s head. “She’s not making any sense,” Steve said worriedly. She blinked slowly up at him, her eyes focusing for a moment. Somehow, finding coherence she tried to sit up, but stretcher’s ties held her down. She gave them all a look of terror and spoke clearly, “I don’t care what you do to me. I won’t talk.” Everyone in the cabin of the plane froze, stunned as Skye wavered and her eyes became unfocused once more. “Did she just…” Sharon said softly, glancing between her soulmates. “Trus’cap…” Skye said, losing her grip on reality once again. “S’HYDRA. Goddaliss.” “It’s okay, Skye,” Steve said, stroking her hair. “You’ve held on long enough for you to tell us. Now let us take care of you?” Skye’s unfocused gaze slid over to Sharon, then her eyelids slid shut. “Her internal temperature is 80ºF. I’ve texted Helen for her to be prepared for severe hypothermia,” Tony rambled. “She’s got three cracked ribs, a broken orbital bone,... possible concussion. She’s got a bad sprain to her wrist and her ankle’s shattered. It’s possible that there’s some minor internal bleeding. It’s hard to tell since some of these bruises on her torso are pretty deep.” Steve growled. “She looks like she’s gone twelve rounds with Mike Tyson,” Natasha said, focused on her task. “She’s taken a hell of a beating. The cold probably actually saved her life.” “I should call Fury,” Sharon said distantly, but didn’t move from Steve and Skye’s side. “I’ll do it,” Natasha volunteered after inserting an IV into Skye’s arm and starting the warmed saline they had brought with them. “You should stay with Skye.” Steve refused to let go of Skye’s hand the entire flight back and Sharon didn’t want to leave her side either. Tony finally confirmed there was no spinal damage and Steve was allowed to curl up with his soulmate, skin on skin to warm her as quickly as possible. Skye whimpered occasionally and once sluggishly struggled against Steve’s hold as Sharon began to clean Skye of the grime that she’d been covered in. The team tried their best to busy them both with something to do on the hours-long flight home. Both Sharon and Steve were unspoken in their fear that Skye could easily become ill or her injuries could aggravate something or she could… they didn’t dare even think it. The four guards they had captured had woken up midway through the flight and all bitten down on a hollow tooth filled with cyanide at the same time before any of the Avengers could stop them. Without ID or distinguishing marks, none of them had any clue if it had been HYDRA who had taken Skye. As they neared New York, Skye began shivering violently, which caused Natasha to visibly relax for the first time since they found her. Natasha took Skye’s temperature and nodded. “Temp’s up to 85*. It’s a good sign,” Natasha reassured them. “Her body’s trying to warm itself up.” Steve and Sharon left the others to take care of the dead bodies in the plane while he and Sharon accompanied Skye into the medical wing where Skye was quickly warmed up the rest of the way and her injuries were quickly assessed. There was no internal bleeding, just a lot of bad bruising, broken ribs, the broken orbital bone, and Skye’s shattered ankle. Dr. Cho took one look at Skye’s x-rays and informed Steve and Sharon that Skye would need surgery to correct the ankle since the break was healing incorrectly. Skye woke up just as she was being wheeled into surgery. She panicked when she heard a beeping coming from the heart rate monitor, fighting arms that held her down. She tried her best to get out of the bed she was in, but someone strong was stopping her from getting out, shouting her name. She struggled further, fighting her captor. People were shouting above her. It took a moment for Skye to recognize the bond she felt beneath her skin. “Hold on, hold on!” Sharon shouted above the others. “Shar?” Skye asked, the fight leaving her body and her voice shaking. It was muffled by a plastic mask that was over her mouth and nose. “S’eve.” Her hand weakly grabbed for them. Each of them grabbed her and held on tight. “You’re safe, Skye,” Sharon said calmly, removing the mask for a moment. She continued stroking Skye’s hair. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” Skye. “Safe?” “You’re at the Tower,” Sharon said, allowing Skye to grip her hand. “You’re going to be okay.” “Get the list,” Skye said wearily as she panted, her words slurred due to her still swollen face. “On our server.” “What list?” Sharon asked her. “Hacked th’HYDRA server. Got the members. Ward too...” Sharon and Steve stared at her for a moment in wonder. “Our server,” Sharon said, realizing what Skye had done. What Skye had thought. “You transferred it to our server. Did you say Ward ?” Skye nodded, tears falling down Skye’s face. “Wanted…” she struggled to find the words. “Love you… both…” Sharon gasped, her cheeks wet with her own tears. “We love you too,” Sharon said, her voice breaking. “Love you,” Steve said thickly. “So much.” They fell into silence. “I-I do okay?” Skye asked, exhaustion heavy in her voice. Sharon cupped Skye’s cheek. “You did so good, Skye,” Sharon said tearfully. “I’m so thankful that you’re alive. You scared the hell out of us,” Sharon said softly, running a hand through Skye’s hair with her own hand. “We were so worried.” “Sharon,” Helen said warningly. “Right,” Sharon said. “Skye, you’re going into surgery. We’ll be right here when you get out.” Panic flooded Skye’s body and Steve grabbed onto her shoulder to give her an extra anchor. “Could we come back? Just until she’s out again?” he asked. “Only one of you,” Helen said. Sharon, seeing the look on Steve’s face, let go. “You’ll be okay Skye,” Sharon said, cupping her face and kissing her forehead while she replaced the mask. Someone must have put medication in Skye’s IV, because things got really fuzzy after that. She could still feel Steve, so she held onto him until her oxygen mask was replaced by another mask and the entire world went dark. --------- Steve returned to the common area once Skye was out and Cho forced him back to the waiting room. He sat with Sharon on one end of the couch while May and Coulson sat on the other. The other Avengers stood or sat around them. “How…” Coulson said, his voice breaking. “How is she?” Steve looked at May and Coulson and saw they had the same look in their eyes that his mother did when he had to go to the hospital. “She’s critical, but stable,” Natasha said when it was clear neither Steve nor Sharon could speak. “She’s in surgery now. The hypothermia is the most grave of her injuries so far.” “She was so cold when we found her,” Steve said quietly. “She wasn’t even shivering.” “We should all be thankful that Steve got that alert when he did,” Clint agreed, nodding. “Her internal core temp… you should know it was at 80º....” Coulson and May both sucked in their breath. A body couldn’t last long below 82º. Organs started shutting down and death was likely to occur if intervention didn’t happen quickly. “This is my fault,” Coulson said. “I dragged her into all of this.” May worried her lip, but remained quiet. Natasha sat next to her old friend. “You should be proud of her,” Natasha said. “She somehow got the membership list for most of HYDRA within SHIELD. We’ve sent what we know off to Fury and are working on a plan to take everyone down. We also identified several of HYDRA’s leaders because of her intel.” Steve saw May’s eyes wet with tears. “I should have convinced Fury to get her off the Bus, especially after Christmas,” May said thickly. “There’s one more piece of information that Skye found out,” Clint said cautiously. “Grant Ward is HYDRA.” Coulson and May both stiffened and stared, wide-eyed at Clint. “What?” Coulson said, his tone growing dangerous. “Skye said his name,” Clint said. “JARVIS? Do you have any information on Grant Ward from the HYDRA files Skye gave us?” “Indeed,” JARVIS said. “It appears Grant Ward was unofficially recruited by John Garrett, a member of HYDRA, before Agent Garrett officially recruited him into SHIELD.” May went very quiet. “I’m going to kill him,” she finally said. “We can’t,” Clint said and Steve grunted in an objection. “HYDRA doesn’t know that Skye took the information. For all we know, HYDRA might think she’s dead if we play it right.” Sharon had gone stiff at the news from JARVIS. “JARVIS… what about Agent Antoine Triplett?” she asked cautiously. “I have no record of him within the files taken by Skyenet,” JARVIS answered. Everyone looked at her curiously. “He’s my cousin,” Sharon said worriedly. “The grandson of Gabe Jones. And Garrett’s current Rookie.” “Is there any chance… is Trip in trouble?” Steve asked. They had talked about Trip before, though Steve had never met him. Sharon frowned. “No more than the rest of us, given how highly integrated HYDRA seems. If they took us by surprise and we didn’t have this intel, it could have been bad. Now we can at least identify them.” “If we play it that we recovered Skye’s body...,” Clint started. Steve and Sharon both flinched. “Fury would come to the tower for investigation and it would explain why Steve and Sharon are on leave without causing HYDRA to be suspicious that we know anything.” “As much as I hate to think about it,” Steve said. “It’s our best tactical option.” “I’m going to go check on the team,” May said, clearly in a rush for solitude. “Coulson, you should keep your cover and wait for Fury.” No one said a word after May all but ran out of the door, all in their own thoughts about the developments of the day. --------- Skye didn’t blink awake from sedation after surgery like most people. One second she was asleep and the next she was wide-eyed, her head turning and looking at her surroundings in panic. “Skye, Skye, you’re okay. You’re safe,” Sharon’s voice came as her face came into view. Skye panted as her panic reduced. “Where am I?” Skye asked, surprised at her muffled voice. She noticed her mouth and nose were covered by a mask and her left ankle was a lot heavier than she was used to. “Avenger Tower,” Sharon said, not moving to remove the mask. “We brought you here after we found you.” Skye coughed wetly. “How… how long was I… how long did they... ?” she tried to ask. “You’ve been missing for three weeks,” Sharon said, her eyes welling up with tears. “Steve and I were so scared for you. He’s been beside himself. He’s getting you breakfast right now, just in case you woke up.” Skye’s stomach churned at the thought and started to panic. “I’m fine. I just need to get out of here,” she said in lieu of answering. She sat up, wincing, and swung her legs to the side of the bed, then stood up. She pitched forward, feeling pain everywhere and thrown off balance by her ankle being in some sort of thick and heavy wrap. Thankfully, Sharon was close by and caught her. “No… don’t… I don’t wanna be here,” she whined softly. “I wanna get out.” “You’re okay, Skye,” Sharon said, trying to reassure her. “You’re safe. We’ve got you.” “Please stay,” came Steve’s voice. “You just had surgery. You’re still recovering and we want to make sure that you’re okay.” Skye tried not to look at the male adonis that had just entered the room with a tray of various cups. She knew if she really looked at Steve, she might dissolve into tears. Skye saw one cup was jello, another was yogurt, there were three others and an Ensure on the tray. Skye felt the fight leave her and Sharon helped her back into bed. HYDRA had only given her a bowl of cold oatmeal twice during her captivity, though she had water pretty consistently. She knew the lack of food was part of the reason why she felt so tired. “You hungry?” Steve asked. “Tired,” Skye said, shocked at how few moves had wiped her out. Sharon helped her to sit up, sitting behind Skye on the bed so that Skye was leaning against her. Skye leaned her head against Sharon, letting Sharon take all of her weight. She felt a bit like a rag doll. “Can you eat something before taking a nap?” Steve asked, giving her a puppy dog face. “I’ve got cherry yogurt, lemon JELL-O, rice and chocolate pudding…” Steve put the tray down on the table near Skye and she watched nervously as her arm shook as she tried to take the spoon and put it in the JELL-O cup, unsure if she could stomach anything at all. Steve gently took the spoon from Skye and loaded the spoon. “Do you mind?” he asked. Skye should have been embarrassed, but between Sharon and Steve buffering her, she was okay. “Soulmates…” Skye said. She let Steve feed her three bites of the JELL-O cup before she grew too tired and drifted off mid-bite. Once Skye’s eyes closed and didn’t open again, they got her to swallow what was in her mouth so she didn’t choke and Steve put the remainder of the cups in the mini fridge in the room as Sharon laid Skye down to a better sleeping position, replacing the mask. Skye woke up up screaming an hour later, Steve sitting next to her on her bed facing her and holding her tightly. “It’s okay, Skye. It’s okay,” Steve murmured. “You’re safe now. We’ve got you. Don’t worry. We’ve got you.” Her screams dissolved into sobs and Steve rocked her gently, cautious of her ribs. “They wanted to kill me,” Skye whimpered once the sobs had subsided. “He wouldn’t let them.” Steve opened his mouth to question Skye, but Sharon stopped him. “Told me he was undercover with SHIELD. Kept them from…” she trailed off, looking haunted. “Do you know his name?” Sharon said gently. Skye looked at Steve, fatigue returning to her face. “Brock.” “Rumlow?” Steve said in shock. “So that’s how Fury knew about HYDRA,” Sharon said softly. “We owe him.” “We could have asked Rumlow and found you sooner?” Steve asked, looking a bit lost. “He must have had a reason he didn’t pass the information along,” Sharon said. Skye was already sleepy again, but she nodded. “Wanted… wanted to get me out’f there. Had to… wanted to use me… leverage… couldn’t… n’t … Pierce...” Sharon’s and Steve’s eyes both went wide. “ Pierce ? Pierce is HYDRA?” Steve asked. They really needed to review the intel that Skye had sent them. Fury was currently meeting with Clint, Natasha, and Coulson about it, if the clock was right. “Head of HYDRA… could contr’l you with me,” Skye murmured, then coughed weakly. Steve was mindful he was holding his soulmate, but his grip on Skye got tighter. “Skye, can you identify anyone else?” Sharon asked. “Quinn’s dead,” Skye whimpered equal parts sleepily and terror-stricken. “...bled out on the floor... next to me… Whitehall… Bakshi… Ward... ” Sharon glanced at Steve as Skye’s eyes drooped became less and less coherent. “Shhh,” Sharon said, turning off the light above Skye’s bed. “You did good. Now rest.” Steve felt Skye’s forehead and frowned when he noticed she was warm. Skye cracked open her eyes then weakly tugged Steve toward the space on the bed that was barely big enough for him to squeeze into, but he knew he could not deny his soulmate, so he got into bed next to her. Steve wordlessly stared at Skye until she burrowed into him. “Mmm… warm,” she said, snuggling into the crook of his elbow. Steve froze for a minute then relaxed as he caressed her, letting the bond sing. Sharon came up on the bed and snuggled the two of them so that Skye was sandwiched between her soulmates. Skye eventually fell asleep again. “I'll go tell Fury about the update,” Sharon said. “Just in case Pierce’s name wasn’t included in the data.” “Let May know about…” Steve said quietly, glancing down. Sharon nodded grimly. One thing Steve was sure of - they weren't going to let anyone touch Skye ever again. Steve was tempted to ask Thor if Skye could be sequestered on Asgard while they dealt with HYDRA. Tired from weeks of searching for Skye and barely sleeping himself, Steve fell asleep too, Skye in his arms. --------- When Skye awoke again, she was vaguely aware that she was roasting . In addition to the heat, the plastic mask covering her face was pushing gas in her face and even so she found it rather difficult to breathe. Skye moved to take the mask off of her face but Steve stopped her. “Keep it on,” Steve requested quietly as his face appeared in her field of vision. He looked tired. Skye made a discontented noise, then coughed. Suddenly, she couldn’t stop. She was gasping for breath. Steve forced her up as her chest burned and her ribs protested. Eventually, the coughing fit settled and Steve settled her back down. “Keep it on and I’ll update you on what’s been going on with HYDRA and with you.” Skye stopped and tried to sit up again. Steve stopped her again, but showed her a button on the side of the bed that she could use to sit herself up. Steve handed her a dry erase board and a marker. “You’re on strict orders not to talk for at least two days. You developed laryngitis, bronchitis, and pneumonia from being in that cave and you’re not supposed to strain your respiratory system.” Skye made a displeased face. Steve’s face looked near distraught though, so she must be as bad as she felt. “Fury has a team of trusted agents working around the clock to make your intel actionable. JARVIS is putting together probability models of who is HYDRA and who isn’t. Apparently some Senator that Tony hates is HYDRA and he’s got his ‘I told you so’ face on permanently. There’s a lot of data now linked to the lower level agents, but we’re still trying to nail down that Pierce has been involved,” Steve started. “We’ve got eyes on higher level agents that we know are HYDRA, but we’re waiting for someone to slip up at this point.” Skye tugged at the mask, but Steve stayed her hand. “The mask is providing oxygen and medication to your lungs to help heal them directly,” he said softly. Skye looked at Steve curiously then her eyes went wide. ‘Team?’ she wrote on her whiteboard. “Coulson and May are right outside,” Steve said. “We figured that with the intel we should be restrictive about who enters the tower. It’s fairly well known what Coulson did for the Avengers and May’s an old friend of Natasha’s so it won’t create any alarms with Ward.” Skye stiffened. She didn’t really want to see Ward. Not if it looked like he was HYDRA. But not having any of the team in her to see her might be suspicious. ‘No Ward,’ she wrote. “He’s not here, Skye,” Steve said. “You don’t have to go near him ever again. Do you want to see May and Coulson?” When she nodded, Steve walked out for a moment then returned leading May and Coulson. They were both wearing hospital masks that partially obscured their faces. “How are you feeling Skye?” Coulson asked, his voice full of concern. Skye couldn’t hold back the tears she felt well up at the obvious concern coming from Coulson and May. Not for the first time did she wonder if they saw her in the same way she saw them. She would be lucky to have parents like them. She actually had wished that they were her parents for a long time. ‘Fine,’ Skye wrote on her board and showed them. Overcome with a combination of emotion and medication that left her feeling loopy, Skye started crying and didn’t know how to stop. She didn’t even have the energy to hide her tears like she normally did. Steve seemed to know exactly what Skye needed and moved out of the way just enough to silently invite them closer to Skye’s bed. May and Coulson immediately moved to either side of Skye’s bed and embraced her gently, cautious of her wounds. “We were so worried,” Coulson said thickly. Skye thought she felt moisture on the top of her head, but thought she was imagining things until Coulson pulled away and she saw that he was crying too. “After Italy… we’ve been worried sick. They wouldn’t let us see you when you first got here. “You were so sick only Steve and Sharon were allowed in. They said that you only really woke up once, but were in and out…” “You scared the hell out of both of us,” May said. “You are so grounded.” Skye was fairly sure May wasn’t being serious, but her heart tugged at her anyway. Skye reached for her mask and May stopped her with a worried look. She vaguely wondered how long she’d been at the Tower and what had happened. “You better not talk,” May said, her voice full of emotion. “I’m still your SO and I’ll kick your ass if you do.” Skye clung to them for a moment, then nodded. She was admittedly a little insecure about the entire thing. How much did the rest of the team know? Did they know she had lied to them again? “Skye,” May asked, sitting down next to her. ‘Lied again,’ she wrote, looking mournfully at May. “You lied?” May repeated, clearly not following the train of thought. ‘Soulmates,’ Skye wrote. “You didn’t lie,” May responded. “It’s classified level 10. You kept a secret. You never lied.” “If FitzSimmons can’t see it that way, then they weren’t really your friends,” Coulson said quietly. After about ten minutes Skye’s energy flagged, to her frustration. “Maybe we should come back another time,” Coulson said hesitantly as Skye’s eyes slid shut for the fourth time. Skye nodded, then shut her eyes, the pull of sleep too strong to ignore. She heard people talking in low tones, then movement around her, as she fell asleep. Morning led to her first argument with Steve. She wanted out of bed and Steve seemed insistent on coddling her. ‘I will,’ had been written on her dry erase board and she just pointed to it over and over. “You can’t yet, Skye,” Steve said evenly. “You’re still healing. You haven’t gone an hour without needing a nap yet and you’re still on soft foods.” She was still on oxygen but she wasn’t coughing as much and she was well enough to feel the familiar itch she always felt when she was in a medical facility. She managed to get out of bed again and nearly face-planted when her ankle screamed in protest. “Skye!” Steve exclaimed rushing over and picking her up to put her back in bed. “Like I was saying, Doctor Cho is going to be in here in a minute and she’s going to explain what’s going on and what kind of healing timeline you’re on.” Sharon entered the room and grabbed a chair on the opposite side of Skye’s bed. “She still being difficult?” Sharon asked Steve. Skye opened her mouth to protest and Steve instantly covered it. “Bullheaded is more like it,” Steve grumbled. “She tried to get out of bed.” “Like you aren’t stubborn?” Sharon postured with a grin. Steve finally removed his hand. “Come on, Skye. After Doctor Cho tells us what’s going on, maybe you’d like a shower?” Skye perked up at that. She hadn’t been properly washed since before she had been kidnapped by Quinn. She sat up and paid attention while Dr. Cho detailed out her minor injuries, the internal damage including a very small laceration on her liver that would take time to heal, and then finally the timeline for her surgery recovery. After everyone left, Skye fought off sleep while Steve disconnected her from almost everything except for her IV. Dr. Cho agreed to try Skye off oxygen during her shower, but showed them where an oxygen line was available in the bathroom in case. Once they had some privacy, Steve smiled gently at Skye as he stripped down. “Ready?” Steve said. Skye nodded enthusiastically and moved to get out of bed, looking around for crutches. She figured Steve would help support her, but she’d at least get to stand up by herself. “I’ve got you,” Steve said, picking her up. Skye had been naked and intimate with Steve and Sharon on several occasions, but this brought things to a different level. This was a relationship-related intimacy that Skye had never experienced before. The way Steve was looking at her… no one had ever looked at her like that before in her life. Skye found that she couldn’t even hold herself up for longer than a minute, so Steve held her while Sharon washed her, all three of them completely naked. Skye was a little fascinated at all of her stitches around her ankle at first, but lost interest. Despite the fact that she was feeling better, Skye found herself drifting off after being awake only an hour as the warm water washed over her. “Rest Skye,” Steve said as they started rinsing Skye off. Skye fell asleep surrounded by warmth and love. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Days passed. Skye continued to push against everyone regarding what she was and wasn’t allowed to do. Her oxygen support was slowly lowered and her need for sleep lessened as she healed and returned to eating on a regular basis. She finally felt like she had achieved something when, three days later, Dr. Cho announced that she would be taken off oxygen that night. She was still on IVs because she wasn’t eating a complete meal and her weight had dropped dangerously, but progress was progress. After dinner, which was most of a plate of yogurt and eggs, Skye learned that she wouldn’t be allowed to walk on her own for at least a week. She awoke again feeling much better, but was shocked when she looked around and saw her room was empty. Not feeling the need for her oxygen, she took it off, then turned the nozzle supplying the oxygen to ‘off’. She then disconnected her IV line. Free of wires and tubes, Skye stepped outside her door and found the hallway deserted too. Confused, she went to the elevator. It opened and she saw there were no buttons on it. She had heard Steve talk about JARVIS, so she looked up at the ceiling. “Uh, could you take me to Steve, please?” There was no response, but the elevator moved, so Skye assumed it had heard. “Steve?” Skye called. She spotted him making a pastrami sandwich and she raced over. “What are you doing?” came a voice from Steve’s mouth, but it wasn’t Steve’s voice. He sounded older. And there was a dangerous edge to it. “She can help us win the war. If we have her, Rogers won’t do anything about Insight,” came another voice. A male’s. Coulson’s. Coulson appeared next to her and grabbed her arms. Skye shrieked and struggled against him, but he was too strong. “It’s too early,” Dream Steve said, frowning. “So give her to Whitehall or Bakshi and let them play with her,” Coulson said. “Yes,” Dream Steve agreed. “But which one? Bakshi could make her into a good soldier but Whitehall has gotten some very interesting results.” She was suddenly strapped to something that forced her to stand and watch something. They looked like memories of her childhood. “Take a deep breath,” she heard. “Calm your mind.” Another voice cut in. “ ResistResistRESIST. ” Skye blinked and suddenly she was lying down, strapped to a cold metal table. “What makes you special, I wonder,” a gray-haired man pondered, leaning over her. “They say even when beaten you refuse to talk. And what’s more, all records indicate that you never existed before you were dropped off in an orphanage as a baby.” Skye struggled against the bonds holding her down. The gray-haired man traced his thumb from her forehead to her ear. “I met someone like you, once. Just around the time you arrived at the orphanage, in fact. Same region you were found in. A woman who could touch an object that destroyed ordinary men. I wonder if you are the same.” “Skye!” Someone was shouting. She tried to look over to where the voice was coming from but Whitehall forced her head upwards. “Skye!” The voice came again. Hands were grabbing hers and someone else was slapping her cheek very gently. Skye blinked and the cave disappeared. She was back in her hospital room, Steve and Sharon standing over her. Instinctively, she sat up and curled into herself, making no noise and staring straight forward. “Skye?” Sharon asked quietly. “Skye, you don’t have to talk about it, but I need you to respond.” “I dreamed…” Skye said distantly. “I…” Skye took two deep breaths then forced herself to reach out and grab each of her soulmates’ hands. She squeezed as hard as she could to ground herself to the present, then started speaking. Her voice was still hoarse and her chest still wheezed, but she needed to tell them. “Quinn took me… he took me to this office building. I don’t know where or when because they knocked me out before and after, but there was a man there. He didn’t introduce himself but I heard… I heard Quinn arguing with him. He called him Pierce. Said that he was funding Centipede but could do more. That he could help fund HYDRA.” Both her soulmates waited for her to catch her breath and continue. “He said that I was a gift to HYDRA. A show of good faith. He… they knew that I was your soulmate. They wanted to use it against you when the Insight carriers launched, so you couldn’t stop whatever they were planning to prevent me from getting hurt. Pierce said it was too early. So they were going to turn me over to Daniel Whitehall or some guy named Bakshi. I… think Bakshi wanted to… turn me into some kind of mindless HYDRA drone…” Steve grabbed her and hugged her fiercely. It was a long while before Steve was calm enough that Skye felt like she could continue without him hurting himself. “They put me in this machine… I don’t think it worked. I think… without the bond they would have, but they couldn’t… it hurt so bad…” Skye said, remembering the white-hot pain. “After… after a few days they realized it wasn’t working… That’s when they put me in the cave and I met… I met Whitehall.” Skye went pale and felt herself shaking in fear. “Skye, you don’t have to relive all this at once,” Sharon said softly. “Yes I do,” Skye said. “I do, because it’s important. “I think… I think he killed my mother.” Her voice quaked at the memory. “He told me… he told me that he found a woman at the same time and place that I’d been found by SHIELD… He kept… he’d take samples of blood and stuff and he’d put me…” she could say no more and burst into tears. She couldn’t explain that her mind had mixed up Steve and Coulson with Pierce and Quinn. Steve rocked her, trying to comfort her through the bond despite all the anguish and rage he was feeling. Sharon wasn’t much better. “JARVIS, if Dr. Cho asks, tell her that we went to our room,” Sharon said. It was only then that Skye noticed that she was off of the oxygen line, but the pulse oximeter was still on her finger. She watched it flip back and forth between 94 and 95 for a minute, then watched Sharon grab her IV pole as Steve picked up Skye. “I can walk, you know,” Skye said dryly as Sharon and Steve also wrapped Skye in a blanket that had been thrown across a chair. She didn’t say anything, but she admitted to herself she’d been pretty cold. “I’m aware,” Steve said. “Just let us take care of you. It helps remind me that you’re here.” For the first time, Skye realized that she must not be the only one with nightmares from the ordeal. “What… what happened… while I was… gone?” Skye asked softly. Steve grimaced. Skye leaned her head on Steve’s shoulder. Steve carried her into the elevator and the doors closed. “It… we knew you were in pain,” Steve said, his voice breaking. Skye turned her head and caught a glimpse of Sharon whose eyes were tearful. It was a short elevator ride to their floor. She’d seen it before in pictures and in video that Sharon and Steve had posted to their server, but it was still amazing to see in person. Skye didn’t feel the least bit tired, so was disappointed when Steve took her straight to the bedroom and carefully put her in her side of the middle of the bed. “I’m not tired,” Skye said, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice. She didn’t want another nightmare like the one before. “Can you try?” Sharon asked on one side of her. “I don’t… Skye said softly. “I don’t want to have that nightmare again.” Steve immediately grabbed a remote and pressed a button. A big screen TV came out of the foot of the bed. “What do you want to watch,” Steve said. “Something we’ve all seen?” Skye suggested. “Like Snow White or Fantasia?” “Sounds good,” Sharon said. “Tony’s got every Disney movie ever on the network.” Subconsciously, her soulmates snuggled closer to her. Between that, the darkness, and the sound, Skye very slowly drifted off. The next thing, Skye knew, it was morning. Steve’s side of the bed was empty, but Sharon was sitting up and reading. Someone was clattering plates together and something smelled like bacon. Sharon almost immediately noticed that Skye was awake. “Good morning, beautiful,” Sharon said, putting her book down. “We were hoping that you were going to sleep longer. Do you want to?” Skye shook her head. She had had another nightmare about… something. She wasn’t quite sure. She remembered being scared, and had vague memories of the cave and being chased, but her soulmates had been there and she wasn’t so afraid. “What time is it?” she asked. She was surprised that her voice was no longer hoarse. “Just after nine. Dr. Cho has cleared you for solid foods as long as you take it easy and stop if you’re full. You’re still on bed rest for a week, but if you can keep breakfast down, she says you don’t need the IV any more. Steve’s making French Toast.” Skye sat up excitedly. “I love French Toast,” she said. “So do I,” Sharon said with a warm smile. “Does that mean I’d get a real shower? I mean, not with Steve holding me?” Skye asked eagerly. Sharon frowned. “Let’s talk to Dr. Cho first. I think we’d want to see if you can safely stand without falling over. For one thing, you’ve still got the upper respiratory infections. You’re just on some powerful steroids and antibiotics that probably make you feel better than you are. For another, Cho said you likely didn’t eat much while being held captive.” Skye looked away from Sharon. “They didn’t feed me really,” Skye said. “Said I wasn’t worth it.” “Good Morning, Skye,” Steve said, coming in with a tray piled high with French Toast. “JARVIS says you’re interested in another shower today?” Skye nodded. “And maybe go for a walk later?” “Only if Dr. Cho says it’s okay,” Steve agreed, setting the tray on the bed and sitting next to Skye. She noticed that her plate was already loaded with about two slices of toast, but they’d been cut up already. Skye grabbed her fork and started eating, famished if a bit shaky. She normally could bolt down the two slices and eat a serving or two more, but now her eating was painstakingly slow. She managed to eat about three-quarters of her plate when she could eat no more. Once she had finished, Steve cleared away her dishes. Sharon produced a laptop from somewhere, making Skye’s eyes light up. Sharon smiled. “I figured you’d want to be in on what we’re planning for HYDRA, even if you won’t be able to be with us.” Skye instantly opened the laptop and powered it on. “Thanks,” she said sincerely. “I…” “I know,” Sharon said quietly. “Don’t worry. We’re not about to leave you out. If you weren’t on bed rest, you’d be coming along, but this is the next best thing. JARVIS will be monitoring you and Pepper and Happy will be here just in case.” “I want to face him,” Skye said softly, idly scanning the SHIELD files of upper-level agents who had HYDRA ties. “Pierce?” Sharon asked. Skye nodded. “I want… I want him to know that I’m going to survive this. I want to prove… that he can’t beat me.” Steve hugged Skye tightly. “Whatever you want. We’ll figure something out. All I ask is that we make sure you’re safe.” Skye could see on Steve’s face how terrified he was, so she nodded. Cho approved that Skye could take a walk as long as she stayed off her ankle, so after helping Skye take another shower, Skye was allowed to try a few steps on the crutches. She hadn’t been able to maintain momentum and found herself once more being carried to the common floor where lunch was waiting for her. She was a little intimidated to be in front of the Avengers, but she soon got over it in favor of the smell of food. Steve quickly brought over a plate of mac and cheese, creamed spinach, and a cookie. Skye had never tasted a better meal. Steve and Sharon flanked her with their own meals while the others sat around them, talking about the upcoming mission. “As long as Cho agrees that she’ll be up for it, Skye will be running back end,” Steve noted, “Skye can hack their systems. Since, thanks to Skye, we can identify who is HYDRA, Fury’s quietly moving SHIELD agents to be poised to arrest the HYDRA agents as efficiently as possible, but he needs help making sure there’s not going to be an issue at the Triskellion, The Fridge, or the Sandbox. I figured Nat and I would take the Triskellion.” “I’ll help out at the Fridge,” Clint volunteered. “I’ll come with you, “ Bruce said. “As much as I dislike being underground, you can knock me out with one of your Hulk-buster arrows if you need to.” “That leaves me and Point-Break for the Sandbox,” Tony said. “Sounds like a party.” “I can start to work on a program to coordinate clocks. When are people being informed?” “Well, the SHIELD Academies are being shut down for for their annual maintenance next weekend,” Clint noted. “They wax the floors, spray for bugs, etc. every year. They give the students a four day weekend and they all either go home or go to a friend’s home. The older ones sometimes go to hotels.” “Do it while they’re gone?” Skye asked. “That’s what I’m thinking,” Clint said. “HYDRA might be able to take a few of the bases, which is why Fury wants us at the bases that could cause a situation if HYDRA actually took one of them.” “Do you think it’s possible to shut down communications since we know the members of HYDRA?” Natasha asked. “I mean, lock their accounts and their keycards?” Skye nodded, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. “I might have a program that does that.” Sharon looked at her curiously. “Do I want to know?” Skye shrugged. “I used to do it to an old friend of mine,” she said. “I’d lock him out of his dorm room in college. I mean, I haven’t used it since I was sixteen and it’s written for Columbia’s security system, but I can adapt it pretty easily to SHIELD.” “Any clues to who this ‘Whitehall’ is?” Sharon asked Steve. “Well, we definitely found Bakshi,” Clint said. “We have an electronic tail on him and Fury has a team tasked with picking him up once things start going down. The issue is that we can’t nail down Whitehall, but we have a few possibilities.” He turned to Skye. “Do you think you’d be up to checking out some photos?” Sharon squeezed her hand and Skye nodded stoically. “JARVIS?” Tony prompted. JARVIS projected a series of faces on the wall. Skye froze when she saw his face. “There,” she said, going white. Steve froze as well. “That’s not Whitehall…” he said slowly. “That’s Werner Reinhardt. He was one of the Red Skull’s commanders during World War II.” All the Avengers looked at Steve sharply while Sharon was comforting Skye, who was looking rather haunted, but determined. It took a moment for Steve for him to register Skye’s distress through the bond. “JARVIS, take it down,” he said. “It has to be a relative of Reinhardt,” Tony said. “Maybe a grandson or a great-nephew?” Steve shook his head. “If I remember correctly, Reinhardt was an only child and had no kids.” “Capsicle, what you’re suggesting… it just isn’t possible,” Tony snarked. “This isn’t like you. You’re suggesting that this guy lived for the last seventy years. What he do, find a fountain of youth?” Skye took two deep breaths and recentered herself while the others debated who Whitehall was and Sharon and Steve bolstered her. She reminded herself that HYDRA wouldn’t get into the tower - especially not with the Avengers there. “Maybe I should take Skye back to our room for a nap?” Sharon suggested. “I’m fine,” Skye said, trying not to admit to herself that she was a bit tired. “That’s a good idea,” Steve said. “We can fill you in on the plan when you wake up and we can talk more about this over dinner,” Steve said, picking Skye up. Knowing it was pointless to argue and finally admitting to herself that a nap sounded wonderful, Skye allowed Steve to carry her. Once she was placed in bed, her fears of her nightmares returned. “I’ll stay with her,” Sharon volunteered. “Go back to the meeting.” Steve nodded then leaned over and gently kissed Skye. “Sleep well,” he said softly. Skye hummed, feeling both content and upset at the promise of a nap. Once Steve was gone, Sharon flipped on the TV. “So… want to watch Arrow?” she asked curiously. Skye nodded eagerly and soon found herself falling asleep to the sound of Oliver Queen kicking the crap out of his enemies. When she woke up again, Sharon was still next to her and Steve had joined them. Realizing she desperately needed to pee, she started to get out of bed, but Steve rushed forward to help her. “I can do it myself,” Skye snapped without meaning to. She immediately shrank back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” “We understand you feel frustrated, Skye,” Sharon said, scooching up behind her. “All three of us are pretty independent. We know it sucks to have to depend on others.” “Do you mind if I take you to the bathroom?” Steve asked Skye patiently. Skye hesitated, then nodded. What was especially surprising to everyone was when Maria Hill came by to take Skye’s statement that evening. Skye detailed what little she remembered of Quinn drugging her and bringing her to Pierce. She described as best as she could what Pierce looked like and from Steve’s drawing, it was a visual match of the head of the WSO. What came next was her description of Bakshi and what little she remembered of her time with him. It was mostly snippets, and Steve and Sharon both exchanged a glance, grateful that Skye barely remembered the pain that was so bad Sharon couldn’t get out of bed as she felt it through the bond. Steve had had to carry her to the meeting at the Triskellion. “When I woke up again coherently, I was in the cave, and Whitehall was there,” Skye said softly, doing her best to maintain her poker face and not curl into Steve’s side like she wanted to. Steve slipped his hand in hers, providing enough support for her to continue. “They had different truth serums and questioned me about SHIELD and my soulmates.” “What did you tell them?” Maria asked impartially. “Nothing,” Skye said. Maria stiffened, her eyes furrowed questioningly. “Nothing? How is that possible? You were able to beat it?” Skye gave a dry laugh. “God no,” Skye said, furiously shaking her head and getting light-headed. She stopped and took a breath. “The flaw with truth serum though is that it compels you to tell the truth. It doesn’t compel you to answer their questions. So instead of telling them what they wanted to hear I just started rambling about why I felt that Star Trek DS9 was the best Star Trek series on earth. You can’t hear someone ask you a question if you talk loud enough, so I just kept talking. It really pissed them off, and they probably beat me more because of that, but Pierce… Pierce wanted to use me against Steve once HYDRA came out of hiding, so they couldn’t kill me... The last time they questioned me, they had knocked me out and left me next to the laptop they used to take notes and communicate with Pierce, so I took the opportunity to hack them and grab the membership list I sent Steve and Sharon.” Maria looked at her incredulously. “You managed to withstand interrogation? After just a few weeks of training with May?” she asked, clearly not buying the story. Skye shrugged. “I’ve kind of been training to withstand interrogations my whole life,” Skye said. “I’ve been in homes where being able to manipulate people was the only way I got to eat that day.” “She also nearly died in the process, don’t forget,” Clint said. “Most Agents are never put in the situation.” “To be honest, if I thought they would have spared me, I would have talked,” Skye admitted quietly. “They were going to kill me either way, I was just trying to prolong… I was trying...” Skye found she couldn’t continue, remembering how it had felt to know she was going to die without seeing her soulmates again. Steve pulled Skye into his lap from where he sat next to her, tightly holding onto him as his jaw clenched. “As much as we’d all like to watch Steve explode,” Tony said. “I think we can all agree that Skyenet here did the best she could with the situation she was in.” “Agreed,” Maria said, nodding. “I apologize. It was a question that had to be asked.” “I understand,” Skye said gently. “I don’t,” Steve practically growled. “What did you think my soulmate is made of, Hill?” “She did steal SHIELD secrets for the Rising Tide before all this,” Maria noted. “Most of them are..” “Cowards,” Skye said, thinking of Miles. -------- Skye was allowed on her first walk in a walking cast and crutches later that week, just before the mission was to take place. She was surprised at how little weight her ankle seemed to be able to take. One of the medical officers was a physical therapist and she was assigned an hour of therapy three times a week. It was a painful process, getting her ambulatory again. Even with the therapy, she was still on bed rest, so by the time the eve of the mission came, Skye was feeling a little cooped up and a lot left out. Sharon seemed to understand her frustration better than Steve. “It’s not forever,” she noted. “Six to twelve weeks in the walking cast. Six months to a year before you can go out in the field again. If you want to, that is.” Skye shuddered, thinking about her now-mixed emotions about the Bus. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “Ward was secretly taken into custody tonight,” Steve said softly. “May reports that he put up a bit of a fight and denied any HYDRA allegiance until May hit the right buttons and he let something slip that confirmed he’s a part of the group.” Sharon and Skye both sat up, looking at how dark Steve’s face was. “What did he say?” Skye asked fearlessly. “They knew whose soulmates you were but didn’t know you’d bonded,” Steve said, clearly deeply disturbed. “Apparently HYDRA had promised you to Ward after they were done using you to get to me.” Skye’s nostrils flared as she growled her objection. “Promise me you’ll let me kick his ass when I’m well enough to?” “Only if you let us help,” Sharon said. “For now, we just have to make sure that everyone associated with HYDRA is captured tomorrow.” “JARVIS will lock this place down if someone so much as looks at the tower wrong. Plus, Pepper and Happy will be here.” “Do I really have to stay in bed?” Skye asked. “It would make us happy if you were,” Sharon said. “It would give us peace of mind.” Skye nodded. “I’ll do my best then,” she said. The next morning started unintentionally early for everyone. Skye woke up at three from a dream where Steve and Sharon had been killed by HYDRA and Whitehall and Ward were chasing after her screaming ‘discovery requires experimentation.’ Skye had been willing to go back to sleep after she described her nightmare to Sharon and Steve, but they hadn’t, wanting to hold her and reassure her that nothing was going to happen to them. To keep herself busy, Skye hacked the HYDRA communication back channels she had found to confirm that Pierce and the others were none the wiser. She was a little disturbed to see Pierce, Whitehall, and Bakshi were discussing how much Skye might know from her time in captivity. Bakshi was stipulating the brainwashing process wiped most of her memories from that time, and Whitehall noted that Skye was probably too traumatized to remember anything but snippets. Pierce seemed to be reassured by the fact that it had been a week and hot-headed Captain America had not visited him. All too soon, the Avengers were packing up for the mission. Skye walked with them to the hanger with promises that she’d go straight back to their room after. ---- It was a twenty-minute flight from New York to D.C. by Quinjet. Sharon sat next to Steve as they quietly went through their tactical plan. Arrangements had very publicly been made for the other Avengers going to other bases by Pepper. Flight plans and passenger manifests could be changed last minute and by the time any HYDRA personnel processed the paperwork, it would be too late. Sharon saw slight signs of strain on Steve’s face. “You okay?” Sharon asked. “I’m just a little worried about Skye. I think it’s finally sinking in how badly she was hurt and she’s feeling down about how much she’s going to be left out of things.” “We’ll have to come up with a way to cheer her up,” Sharon suggested. “I mean, I still want to give her a really big party for her birthday since she’s never had one before, but that’s still a few months away.” “Maybe we can go away for a weekend,” Steve suggested. “Reconnect with each other before we start living together.” Sharon frowned. “What if Skye wants to stay on the Bus?” she asked. Steve shook his head. “I won’t allow it, it’s not safe,” he said stubbornly. Sharon sighed. There were times that Steve’s 1930s mentality was really nice and times that it was infuriating. Steve’s need to make sure that both of his soulmates were safe was the subject of a heated discussion that was long overdue. “She’s her own person, Steve,” Sharon said softly. “What’s more is that she’s someone who’s been hurt by a lot of people she was supposed to rely on. Dictating terms to her will just push her away.” “She almost died,” Steve countered softly. “I know,” Sharon acknowledged. “She could have… if Rumlow hadn’t texted me when he did… she almost died.” Steve said, his voice breaking with emotion. “I lost everyone I’ve ever knew in a single moment. When I woke up, I was alone, except for two marks on my body. I can’t… I can’t lose them too.” Sharon put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You’re not going to as long as we have a say in the matter. But we stand with SHIELD and there’s risk involved in that.” “If you two are done, we’re approaching headquarters,” Natasha said from the pilot’s seat. Steve turned on his Comm. “Everyone in place?” he asked. “Avenger Team Three in Place,” Clint said. “Avenger Team Two in Place,” Tony’s voice came through. “Tech Support in Place,” Skye said. “Home Base coordinating attacks,” Fury said on their frequency. “Set to send go order worldwide.” “Landing in three… two… one…” Natasha said. The second the wheels touched the ground, Natasha was over the seat and had both of her pistols out. Sharon grabbed her guns, while Steve grabbed his shield. Most of the people in the hangar were SHIELD agents, but there were two who were HYDRA; they immediately panicked and tried sounding some sort of alarm. Natasha and Steve rushed forward and subdued the agents. Once they had them zip tied, the three Avengers went into the hall where they were joined by emergency teams made up of agents guaranteed to be loyal to SHIELD. Sharon took the flank as they moved down the hall. Skye was calling audibles to the Avenger teams as they answered her regarding movements. SHIELD-loyal teams moved around the three bases, subduing HYDRA agents and HYDRA-suspected agents and zip tying them. Sharon zip-tied her fair share of HYDRA agents and in the grand scheme of things, they didn’t resist. For one thing, they didn’t announce why certain agents were being arrested. Then Sharon spotted Jack Rollins heading toward them. He was far out, but he raised a gun, aiming it at Steve’s head. Without thinking, Sharon raised hers. “Stop!” she shouted. Rollins took two more steps forward before Sharon fired. The bullet hit Rollins’ leg and he went down. Sharon hurried forward. “Damnit Rollins, you are not getting out of this this easily!” Sharon called, pushing down on the bullet wound that was gushing blood with each heartbeat. “Hail… HYDRA,” Rollins ground out, startling a couple of the nearby suspected HYDRA members, though they could have been acting. “We’ve got this,” one of the cleared SHIELD medics said, handing over an antiseptic wipe. “Go.” Sharon nodded and wiped her hands of blood before grabbing her gun again. Natasha and Steve had been guarding her and they resumed their sweep. Rollins was not the only member of HYDRA who tried resisting, though only two received injuries as bad as his, many more were moderately injured. Before Sharon knew it, they were wrapping things up in the Triskellion. Based on what Fury was saying over Comms, Victoria Hand was still clearing out the Hub, and they still had a few minor bases to deal with, but the majority of HYDRA agents were arrested with proportionately few major injuries. When word got out that the arrested agents had been part of an attempted HYDRA uprising, friends and colleagues had stood shocked and stunned at the development. Betrayal could be seen on most of the faces of the agents who remained in the lobby, waiting for news. Maria Hill had been called to the White House to explain what was happening and the steps being taken in the future to prevent HYDRA from infiltrating SHIELD again. Fury had been tempted to send Steve with them to smooth any possibly ruffled feathers, but Steve refused, demanding to be in on the interrogation of Pierce. Thor had found Sunil Bakshi at The Sandbox and they learned that he’d been brainwashing SHIELD assets like Donnie Gill into serving with HYDRA. Bakshi was alive, but that was pretty much all that could be said. Apparently it was a high crime on Asgard to take away someone’s free will. Thor considered it a personal affront that Bakshi had tried to do so to his shield-brother’s bonded.` ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- While the Avengers and SHIELD agents started wrapping things up, Skye started scanning the information she had gotten from the HYDRA servers. JARVIS automatically brought up several files referencing Project Insight and a plan to assassinate Director Fury involving a weapon they had titled ‘The Asset’. Curious more than anything, Skye did a keyword search of ‘The Asset’ and found a folder that was date stamped as originating in 1945. She opened the file and saw scores of other files, and a JPG on top. She opened the JPG and gasped when she saw an image of Bucky Barnes in his military uniform. There was also an AVI file, a video, and she clicked on it. As the video started to play, she was immediately reminded of her time with Bakshi. The man in the chair was screaming. They were torturing him. She remembered the pain that she was put through as they tried to brainwash her. She remembered how much she had screamed. How much she had wished for death. Then the camera focused on the man in the chair and she felt sick. Bucky… they were torturing Bucky Barnes. Brainwashing him. His screams blended with hers in her mind. She shoved her panic and fear as far down as it would go. Skye scanned through the other files as quickly as she could. In some files Bucky was referred to as ‘The Winter Soldier’ in others ‘Asset’ and finally she landed on the coordinates of something called ‘Asset Storage,’ which made Skye’s stomach roll. Steve had to know about this, and knew that this wasn’t something to talk about over comms. She ran from her room towards the hanger and got into one of the spare Quinjets, starting it up. She’d be there in twenty minutes, which would mean they’d be able to get to Bucky within the hour or just a little past that. She bit her lip as she took off. They had to rescue him. It took her fifteen minutes to get to the Triskellion. Skye admitted that she had pushed the engines a little, but this was Bucky . Steve deserved to know as soon as possible. When Skye arrived, the entire base was in chaos. At least a third of the people in the building lined the walls in handcuffs looking angry or defeated, while others looked on in confusion and horror. Skye ran a little lopsided due to her walking cast, the material making a swishing noise as she ran. She ignored the pain in her ankle. Thankfully, she soon spotted a familiar face. “AC! Where’s Steve?” Skye shouted, not slowing down. “Skye?” Coulson asked, looking rather shocked. “Wha- I thought Steve said you were on bed rest.” “No time,” Skye panted, finally slowing down as she caught up with Coulson. “Just… need… Steve…” “Skye, maybe you should sit-” Coulson started. “Agent Coulson,” Skye barked. “I need to speak with Captain Rogers now . If you don’t know where he is, tell me so I can find someone who can.” “I’ll take you,” May said from behind Coulson. “Can you tell me what this is about?” Skye paused for a minute, then whispered in May’s ear as quietly as she could, “Bucky’s alive.” May’s head shot back, her eyes wide in shock. “I’m assuming this has something to do with -” “Which is why Steve needs to know what I know as soon as possible,” Skye said. Shortly after that, she hoped that she’d pass out. Both because of the pain in her ankle and so that she could stop hearing Bucky’s screams in her mind as HYDRA wiped him over and over again. “Follow me,” May said. She paused and grabbed a wheelchair. “Sit down before you pass out.” “That might be a good idea,” Skye said shakily, easing herself into it. May pushed her extremely fast, running behind the chair, both of them knowing it was tactical information that would benefit them in interrogating Pierce and it was now a race against the clock to see if they could rescue Bucky. “Skye?” came Sharon’s shocked voice, echoing from the end of the hallway they had just turned into. “Sharon,” Skye said, leaping out of the chair and into Sharon’s arms “What the hell are you doing here? How? You are in so much trouble,” Sharon started. “I have to talk to Steve,” Skye said, interrupting Sharon’s rant. Sharon felt Skye’s fear and nausea coming through the bond. “I found something that… it couldn’t wait and I couldn’t say it over comms…” “Sharon,” Steve said, coming out of interrogation. “I thought I felt… Skye? Skye -” “Okay, before another person yells at me for not being on bedrest, there’s something all of you and Fury need to know before proceeding with Pierce and we probably shouldn’t be in a hallway for me to tell it.” Less than a minute later, they were in a room close by and Natasha was having her turn with Pierce. “Bucky Barnes is alive,” Skye blurted out once the door closed. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed and he opened his mouth. “Schmidt drugged him, back when he was in… that HYDRA facility, with something like your serum. After falling from the train Zola went back for him. They… they brainwashed him… like they tried to… brainwash me.” Her heart was breaking at the look that Steve was giving her, utter betrayal all over his face. She kept going. “They wanted a perfect soldier, like you were. So they named him the Winter Soldier.” “The Winter Soldier is a myth,” Fury said, frowning. “It’s a story that’s been around…” “For over seventy years?” Skye snarked. Fury’s eyebrows raised. “Where?” Steve asked. “In a warehouse not far from here,” Skye said, handing Steve the coordinates she had found. Steve took off, yelling to Thor over the Comms, clearly in no mood to ask questions. Though Thor was half a world away, the Demigod would be able to meet him there. “I’ll go inform Pierce that we'll have a new set of charges for the international court to file,” Fury said. “Should wipe the smirk off his face for at least a little while.” The pain of running on a shattered ankle was finally starting to sink in as Skye became very pale. The walking cast could only cushion so much and her lungs were still burning. It was a lot farther of a run from the landing pad than she had anticipated. “Let’s get a SHIELD doctor to check you out,” Sharon said hugging her from behind and pushing her chair. “I’m sorry,” Skye said, coughing slightly. “I was… I couldn’t tell Steve over Comms.” Sharon nodded. “I get it,” she said softly. “Bucky meant a lot to Steve. He was more or less his brother. You’ve given Bucky the best chance he’s had in seventy years.” Arriving at the medical wing, a nurse gave Skye, who was having coughing fits, a once over. “It’s going to be two hours,” the nurse said, giving Skye a judgemental look. “A lot of HYDRA people were injured in the scuffle.” Skye looked around and saw most of the beds contained people in handcuffs or were strapped down. “She’s not HYDRA,” Sharon said forcefully. “She’s recovering from an upper respitory infection and risked further damage to pass on important intel to Steve Rogers and Nick Fury.” The nurse’s demeanor instantly changed. “I have a place in the back. Follow me.” Once Skye was settled onto a bed, a doctor came by and splinted her ankle and put her on medicated oxygen. Sharon was unwilling to leave Skye near so many HYDRA agents, so she sat next to Skye, working from a tablet despite Skye’s reassurances that she’d be okay. Skye watched as HYDRA agents were slowly cleared one-by-one by the doctors and taken away to holding. Sharon had been giving Skye a running commentary on everything going on with ‘cleaning house’ as Fury was calling it. The UN had been called and were setting up a specialized tribunal to investigate the HYDRA agents involvements with illegal activities. A lot of the lower-level HYDRA agents were rolling over and providing as much information as they could in the hopes of cutting a deal. A good number of those agents had been under severe duress to join HYDRA - either threatened themselves or loved ones, and a good deal more were manipulated during psychological treatments for PTSD, survivor's guilt, and many other things agents typically dealt with. It would take a while to distinguish who needed treatment and who needed to be blamed. Skye was comforted to know that Pierce, Bakshi and about twenty others, including a member of the World Security Council named Malick, were taken into custody and all their assets frozen. Steve and Thor had found Bucky, who’d been cryogenically frozen, and they were transporting him to the Tower. Steve was still in such shock that Bucky was alive that Sharon reported to Skye he hadn’t really processed what HYDRA had done to his brother. “I heard a few rumors that you were down here,” came a familiar, gravelly voice. Skye looked up and her eyes immediately started to water at who stood in the doorway. Sharon stiffened for moment as she both looked up and started to get between Skye and the door at the same time. Brock Rumlow, looking dirty and cut up, put up both of his hands. “I don’t mean any harm,” he said. Sharon instantly changed demeanor as she launched herself forward and embraced the hulking STRIKE leader. “Thank you,” Sharon whispered. “You… you saved her.” Brock stiffened, but allowed Sharon to hug him. Skye was confused, looking between Sharon and Brock. Brock sat down next to Skye’s bed looking tired. “Do you remember me?” he asked Skye carefully. Skye paused a moment, then took off her mask. “I remember your voice,” she said quietly. “You were there…” Brock nodded. “Pierce had me running a package to Whitehall and I saw you geotag your position. I made sure to wipe down the laptop of physical evidence you’d been on it and texted Cap to have Stark check for the post. I’m glad you made it out of there.” “You were… Fury’s mole?” Skye asked, putting two and two together. Brock nodded. “After three tours in the war I got a bit turned upside-down. Fury agreed to hire me, but only if I went to therapy. The shrink was HYDRA and turned me around more and before I knew it, I was neck deep in HYDRA.” “Why’d you… switch sides?” Skye asked, trying to keep her tone as non-judgemental as possible. “After New York… something bad happened,” Brock said. “And HYDRA underestimated the fact that I had nothing to lose by telling Fury the truth,” Brock said. “Fury questioned me about it for hours and thought long and hard about locking me up, but eventually decided that he could use me as his mole.” “Well, Whitehall’s still at large,” Sharon said. “But as far as I’m concerned, that’ll be tomorrow’s problem. For now, Skye and I should get back home. Steve just texted me and says he’s waiting for us to get back.” Skye looked at her watch and noticed she had missed Lunch and Dinner without thinking about it. “Yeah, it’s been a long day for everyone and I have a feeling I’m going to be here all night,” Rumlow said. He seemed hesitant to say goodbye. “Well come by and visit any time you want,” Sharon said. “You saved Skye’s life at the risk of your own. Consider your invitation to the Tower an open one. We owe you more than we could ever repay you.” Brock smiled slightly. “Once they involved a civilian, I needed to step in as much as I could. You should be proud of her though, she has more stamina than most of the Ops cadets I see.” “Yeah, we are,” Sharon said. In spite of herself, Skye fell asleep on the plane ride back since Nat flew their Quinjet. Tony had burgers and fries ordered for all of them, so by the time they got back, the food had arrived. Skye woke up at the first smell of food, being carried to the common room by Steve. “Food?” Skye sleepily asked, curious. “Bacon egg burger,” Sharon said. Skye grinned, yawning. “My favorite.” “I figured a little bit of a celebration was in order,” Tony said. “We did good work today.” “Tis true,” Thor boomed. “We must feast and drink to our ancestors. We made them proud today. The others sat silently for a moment. The weight of the day on them. “Bucky’s alive,” Steve said. “He’s downstairs in restraints. Doesn’t know who I am… doesn’t know who he is…” “Ward’s HYDRA,” Skye said a little sullenly. “I actually liked him…” “I thought I exchanged the Red Room for wiping red out of my ledger,” Natasha noted. “Turns out I was wrong.” Skye sighed tiredly. “You said it,” Clint said, groaning. “I’m wiped.” “Maybe we should put off the celebration,” Steve said tiredly. “I think some of us need to decompress.” “I’ve got the burgers,” Sharon said, coming from behind them. Skye felt a vague objection to the fact that she seemed to be carried everywhere these days, but since her ankle was still splinted and throbbing, she decided that it wasn’t worth verbalizing. “You still have some oral pain meds left over,” Sharon said as Steve put her in the middle of the bed. “Yeah, that sounds a good idea,” Skye groaned. “Remind me never to run on a shattered ankle again.” “You’re not leaving that bed for at least a week,” Steve said protectively. Skye sat up. “How are you doing?” she asked him. “He asked me who Bucky was,” Steve said, sounding heartbroken. Sharon brought over Skye’s pills with all three of their burgers and sodas on a tray. She set everything on the bed, and produced a heating pad which she wrapped around Skye’s ankle. Skye managed to eat half of her burger before the meds kicked in and she fell asleep. When morning came, Skye found herself unable to move. Literally. She shifted slightly, then let out a groan as her body let its protests be known. Steve appeared at her side. “Hey, Skye,” Skye turned to Steve and smiled. “Morning,” Skye said softly. “We have eggs and bacon if you’re hungry,” Steve said quietly. Skye noticed that Sharon was still sleeping next to her. “Dr. Cho said you should have a few days to rest your ankle before PT resumes, so I figured a shower followed by a visit from Simmons and Fitz?” “Simmons and Fitz?” Skye asked, curious. “They haven’t seen you since you were kidnapped. After yesterday, they’re apparently very concerned.” “So they’re bugging Coulson and May?” Skye asked. “With Ward in custody, Coulson and May might be going back into the field with separate teams, and FitzSimmons would go back to the Hub. Fury’s grounded everyone until they figure things out. They haven’t heard news about you in a while. They just want to see for themselves that you’re okay.” “Okay,” Skye said. “Breakfast?” “Come on,” Steve said. “Let’s go into the den.” Skye winced a little when Steve scooped her up. “You’re due for another dose of meds,” he noted. “No kidding,” Skye said, gritting her teeth. “Sorry, Skye,” Steve said softly. He set her gently onto the couch where two plates of eggs and bacon sat, still steaming. Skye kissed him softly. “I’ll be fine,” she said with a smile. “After all, I have you and Sharon. Have you gone for your run yet?” “I’m not going today,” Steve said sullenly. “Yesterday…” “What’d you do?” Skye said, picking up on Steve’s tone. “Sharon and I checked your laptop,” Steve said. “We… I… needed to see Bucky’s file. Have you looked at it?” Skye stared at Steve. “I’ve seen some of it,” she admitted. “Did you know that they used Bucky to assassinate Howard Stark?” Steve asked. Skye stiffened. “What?” she asked carefully. “He was the Winter Soldier. They sent him to assassinate a lot of people. And Howard had something that HYDRA wanted. God, how am I going to tell Tony?” Skye sighed. “I think… maybe this afternoon we should talk to Pepper first. Then all of us can figure out how to talk to Tony about it. Bucky didn’t have a choice.” She flashed back to the pain of the brainwashing. The feeling of her entire self being slowly sucked out, while at the same time feeling anchored to the presence of Sharon and Steve in the back of her mind. It had felt like she would split in two, but her soulmates held her together like two screws in the back of her skull. Suddenly, she had an image of herself being turned into an assassin, ordered to kill Steve and Sharon without recognizing them. She felt nauseous and the smell of the eggs and bacon increased it. “I think I’m going to be sick…” she said faintly. Steve immediately grabbed a trash can and made it back just in time. He rubbed her back while she heaved, then began sobbing when it was over. “Shh… it’s okay. You’re safe,” Steve said, embracing her. “You’re here with me and Sharon.” “That could have been me,” Skye said. “A mindless assassin… or worse…” Sharon appeared sleepily. “What’s going on?” she asked, clearly still half out of it. Sharon blinked and her eyebrows went up as her brain registered the scene. “What happened?” “I was just telling Skye about Howard,” Steve said, passing Skye a bottle of water and removing the plastic trash bag. Sharon made her way over to Skye who whimpered as she snuggled into Sharon’s arms. “I… I don’t want to kill you.” “You’re not brainwashed, Skye,” Sharon said, trying her best to comfort her. “Don’t you think Steve and I would be able to tell?” Skye paused and thought about it before nodding and taking a swig of water to get the bitter taste out of her mouth. Sharon regarded Skye carefully. “We’re going to get Bucky help.” Slowly but surely, the three of them ate breakfast and showered. Dr. Cho came by and gave them the bad news. While no further damage had been done to Skye’s ankle the previous day, it seemed the clock had been reset and Skye was once again on total bed rest for the full six weeks. After their meeting with Dr. Cho, Steve carried Skye down to the common floor and they got her settled on a couch before Coulson, May, and FitzSimmons entered the room. “Skye!” Simmons cried the moment the elevator doors opened. She raced towards Skye and embraced her hard, causing Skye to wince. Simmons immediately withdrew. “Oh Skye… I’m so sorry. I didn’t think...” “It’s okay,” Skye said in a slightly pained voice. “We’ve been so worried about you. May made it sound like you were dying ,” Jemma noted. Skye winced. She, Sharon, and Steve had been avoiding talking about that particular elephant in the room. It was true that she’d come terrifyingly close to dying from HYDRA’s treatment of her and her exposure to the cave. “When are you coming back to the Bus?” Skye looked at May and Coulson, then at her soulmates. “I’m not,” she admitted. “I need at least six months of rehab for my ankle and my… May wasn’t far off. Right now I look a lot better than I am, though everything is slowly improving.” “What? But we’re a team,” Jemma said. “Except for… did they tell you about Ward?” Skye bit her lip. “They didn’t have to. I was the one who told them. I heard was that he was arrested though.” Fitz stepped up. “HYDRA kidnapped you, didn’t they? I’m assuming because of your skills as a hacker?” Skye nodded. “HYDRA kidnapped me, but because they wanted to use me against my soulmates.” She had told them that she had marks, though never admitted to meeting Sharon or Steve. “You… you found them?” Fitz asked curiously. Skye nodded. “HYDRA didn’t know that we had met and bonded over Christmas, so they… they thought they could break the pre-bond connection to hurt Steve.” “Steve?” Simmons asked quickly. She looked from Steve to Skye almost comically. “Skye, are you suggesting that your soulmate is Captain America ?” “I prefer Steve,” Steve said with a polite smile as he extended his hand. Simmons took it, stunned. “I wondered what happened at Christmas,” Fitz said slowly. “You seemed different when we came back.” “Bonding does wonders to the soul,” Skye said, smiling at Steve and Sharon. “As things stand right now, I might be placed in the Comms department after I’m allowed to walk on my ankle. After a year or so, we’ll see if I become an Ops agent. Regardless, I’ll probably be stationed at the Triskellion.” “Fury’s reconsidering the Bus’ status anyways,” Coulson admitted. “With May out of Admin, he’s reconsidering where everyone is best utilized, which right now might not be a mobile command unit.” “Can you… did Ward say anything?” Skye asked cautiously. May seemed to understand Skye’s question. “He admitted to passing information to his former SO, John Garrett, as well as Pierce, specifically about you. Garrett ordered Quinn to shoot you and Quinn apparently consulted Pierce and got other orders to kidnap you instead. Pierce then found out that we knew you’d been kidnapped, so he killed Quinn to throw us off.” Skye shuddered, vaguely remembering the feeling of Quinn’s blood around her as he bled out next to her. It was so vivid that she could feel the warmth of the blood around her, the copper in the air, the echo of the gunshot… Sharon’s voice cut through the memory. “Skye, you’re okay. You’re safe.” Skye blinked and she was no longer on the floor but now on the couch. Coulson, May, and FitzSimmons were all staring at her looking terrified and worried. “Skye, can I tell them?” Skye knew that Sharon was talking about what had happened to Quinn. Skye nodded a bit shakily. “Pierce shot Quinn in front of Skye. He’s dead,” Sharon said. “Pierce is in custody. So far he hasn’t said anything.” “He will,” Steve said, gripping his fists tightly. Fitz and Simmons stood speechless and uncomfortable, trying to process just the portion of what Skye had been through that they had been told. “I’m alive,” Skye said, breaking the silence. “We’re concentrating on that.” “It’s something we’re all grateful for,” May said a little tensely. “When do you start PT?” “The doctors want me to rest a couple of days before resuming it. I’m pretty sure Steve’s not going to let me walk for like… a week,” Skye complained. “At least,” Steve confirmed. Simmons and Fitz still looked skeptical. “Guys, I’m fine,” Skye said. “I’ll be happy in Comms. I’m the best hacker SHIELD’s ever seen and with HYDRA’s little coming out, I get to hack to my heart’s content. I already stole petabytes of data from their hidden servers. It’s gonna take a while for SHIELD to get through all that data. I spent the last ten years working to take down ‘the man’. I just get to do it with a slightly more evil ‘man’ than I usually take on.” “Just as long as you stay on your training,” May said. “With HYDRA out there, we’re going to make sure she’s trained to defend herself,” Sharon said definitively. They talked for about an hour until Skye started to get tired. Her team excused themselves and Steve took Skye down to their room for a nap. After she woke up, she watched a movie with Sharon while Steve was on a conference call about Bucky. Eventually, the close proximity led her and Sharon to make out. Skye wasn’t cleared for sex yet as even the easy makeout session had Skye gasping for breath. “Ready for lunch?” Skye said when Steve came in. “Hungry?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow “Starving,” Skye said. “And Sharon won’t let me out of bed.” “I offered to bring you food,” Sharon said with a smile. “This bed is boring,” Skye groaned. “I don’t know if I should be offended by that statement,” Sharon lightheartedly objected. “Come on them,” Steve said, scooping Skye up. “Time for lunch.” “What’s the plan for this afternoon?” Skye said. “Well I was going to go see Bucky,” Steve said. “I have a conference call with Fury about the future of SHIELD,” Sharon said. “Can I come with you Steve?” Skye asked. “I don’t want you anywhere near Bucky while he’s like this,” Steve said protectively. “Steven,” Skye said warningly. “Stop being so damn protective.” “This is different, Skye. Bucky’s dangerous right now. He’s unpredictable,” Steve argued “He needs someone who gets it,” Skye snapped. “You were on ice for seventy years. Bucky went through… Bucky went through hell. I went five minutes of it and I changed. He’s not going to be the same Bucky any more.” Steve looked at her. Really looked. “You’ll wear the walking cast and if I say run, you get out of there.” Skye nodded silently. Sharon looked at Steve sharply. “Steve?” Sharon asked sharply. “Maybe it’ll help them both,” Steve said softly. They all knew that Skye was having nightmares every night. The intensity seemed to be easing some, as she no longer woke up screaming and Steve and Sharon no longer had to remind her that she was safe and home. Sharon stared at the pair of them, then nodded slowly. “Alright, but please be careful,” she requested. “Now can someone feed me before I start eating Steve?” Skye complained. “Not that I don’t see the logic in staying here, let’s get you fed,” Steve said with a grin. Skye kissed Steve. “My hero,” she murmured. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Skye was a little nervous to be back in Medical, but knew that it was for a good cause. The door opened and Skye saw Bucky Barnes with much longer hair, restrained with several bands on his metal arm. Bucky wasn’t straining against his bonds though. He just sat there. “What are my orders, sir?” Bucky asked. Steve looked sad. “There are no orders,” Steve said slowly. Bucky looked baffled by that. Skye frowned. “Hi, I’m Skye,” Skye said. Bucky seemed to just notice her. “Do you have orders for me?” “I have to be able to call you something first. Do you have a name?” Bucky thought about it. “They called me Asset,” he said. “Asset’s a title,” Skye said. “I want a name. Is there a name you remember? Or one you like?” Skye and Steve both sat quietly while Bucky thought. “What about James?” Skye suggested after several quiet minutes. “James,” Bucky said, trying the name out. “James can be my name?” “Yeah, James can be your name,” Steve said thickly. James nodded, “My name is James,” he said decisively. “Do I get orders now?” Skye imagined herself in James’ shoes. Terrified of her new ‘minders,’ terrified of the orders she was going to be given, because she’d have to follow them. It reminded her of the fear she felt as a kid. Scared of her new foster parents. Scared of what they’d do to her. Scared if it was a good home, because the shoe could drop at any time for any reason. She remembered how Miles had found her, literally picking her up out of the gutter and taking her home. He’d been different then. Idealistic. Angry at the foster system, but never angry at the people unless they’d done something wrong. She remembered the first night she’d stayed with him at sixteen when he’d given her the bed and a three-inch knife to reassure her he wouldn’t try anything. He’d given her power back. She had to do that with James. “I order you to decide what you want for dinner,” Skye said, thinking Steve might not have the heart to do it. “Do you want an omelette or chicken noodle soup?” James thought about the choices. It was clear he’d never been given a choice in anything in the last seventy years, but he couldn’t not follow an order. “I think I knew someone once who made chicken noodle soup,” James said faintly. “Can I have that?” ---------- “Pepper, we need to talk to you,” Skye said softly. The rest of their talk with James went okay, though there were several moments when Steve looked like he was about to cry, both realizing that the friend he’d known seemed gone and over what HYDRA had done to Bucky. After letting JARVIS know what James wanted for dinner, Skye asked JARVIS to give Bucky a choice at each meal but limit it to a few options. James looked torn between crestfallen and elated at the news that he’d have to chose again at breakfast. This led to James jumping at JARVIS’ voice and Skye introducing him to the AI. It had taken a little while to calm James down after that and by then an hour had passed and they decided it was time to go see Pepper. If they needed to get James out and get him somewhere secure, it was better to do it sooner than later, so they went to Pepper’s office. “Privacy mode, JARVIS,” Pepper said when she saw their faces. “What’s going on?” “We found some, uh, intel,” Steve admitted. “Something that Tony will react badly to.” “What?” Pepper asked. “HYDRA killed his parents,” Skye said quietly. “It looks like they made Bucky do it.” Pepper’s face went unreadable. “Howard was pretty close to Bucky and I during the war,” Steve said. “It’d be like if Tony were brainwashed and forced to kill Rhodey. I know I need to tell Tony about this, but…” “You need to make sure Tony doesn’t overreact,” Pepper guessed. “It’s not that. We just don’t want him to blame the man who gets confused when we order him to choose what he wants for dinner,” Skye said, a bit harshly. “You should see him up there, it’s like he doesn’t remember how to be human.” “Tony still… whatever he felt about his parents, he took their deaths hard,” Pepper said gently. “He might not be able to help himself.” “Then help us make him understand,” Skye said. “You can’t possibly understand how much it changed him. The thought that it was an assassination and not an accident… a piece of me is even angry at Bucky for his part in it.” “Pepper,” Skye said calmly, sitting down in an office chair. “Bucky couldn’t help himself.” “I get that. Logically I get that, but emotionally… He should have fought harder.” Steve went pale and Skye’s eyes flashed. “You know, I’ve heard those words before. People said it to friends of mine who were assaulted, or when we couldn’t find jobs because we didn’t have any degrees. Or when we went hungry from Friday lunch to Monday breakfast because our foster parents didn’t give enough of a damn to feed us. Do you even know what it’s like to have someone pull you out of your own mind? Do you know what it’s like to be unmade?” Pepper and Steve both looked a little shocked at Skye’s outburst. Skye’s voice cracked in anguish. “That’s what HYDRA does when they want you as their mindless puppet. They suck you out until there’s nothing left. The only reason why I’m not like Bucky right now is because I was bonded to two soulmates that bolted me to my own body. I am so sick and tired of people making it seem like everyone’s problems would be magically solved if they just fought harder.” “I’m really sorry,” Pepper said, tearing up. “I didn’t think…” Skye took a couple wheezy breaths then nodded, also tearing up. “I… I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to go off like that. You didn’t mean it like that…” “You okay, sweetheart?” Steve asked Skye cautiously, seeming not to know what to do with himself with two suddenly crying women in the room. Skye nodded, half-heartedly, tears streaming down her face. “Steve, leave us alone for a minute?” Pepper asked, coming to the other side of her desk and sitting next to Skye. Steve hesitated, then nodded. “You want to know something ridiculous?” Pepper asked once Steve had left the room. “I used to be jealous of you.” Skye’s eyes went wide. “Me? Why?” she asked. “Because at the time, I was sure that Tony Stark was never going to look at me the way he looked at your username,” Pepper said. “He saw your genius right away. He wanted to use it. He wanted the world to see it. I think he always wanted you as some sort of protege or something. It wasn’t until after he was kidnapped that I realized that I wanted Tony for something far different from a Protege-Mentor relationship.” “You know, as kids we used to think about what we’d buy if we had Tony’s billions,” Skye said. “What did you want?” Pepper asked curiously. “During the bad placements it was usually food or a bodyguard,” Skye said distantly. “During the good placements it was usually clothes that fit properly or candy or toys that weren’t second hand. Toys we could keep to ourselves. When we were older sometimes one of us got daring and would wish for a second-hand iPod or brand new shoes.” “Sharon mentioned something about a new wardrobe for you,” Pepper said. Skye immediately backpedaled, blushing. “It was just a stupid game, is all. Mostly we did it to ease the hunger pangs when we were at homes that didn’t feed us too much or on Christmas we’d imagine something that we could pretend to have gotten so we didn’t have to go back to school and not have anything to tell people about.” “Well the Maria Stark Foundation is good for philanthropic efforts around the world. Tony puts millions into it every year. I don’t see how a few trips to a candy store or FAO Schwartz would be stupid. The wardrobe thing is more because I was reminded that I overheard Sharon mentioning it to Steve while you were in surgical recovery and they weren’t allowed to sit with you yet. She wanted to take you to the mall and get you some things that were purchased a little more recently and didn’t look so well-cared for.” “You really don’t have to…” Skye said. “I want to. From a Stark girlfriend to a Stark protege,” Pepper said. “Besides, you’re going to be cooped up in this place for weeks. You can still have fun from the couch.” “What, like online shopping?” Skye asked. Pepper laughed. “Usually I’m so busy that the owners just come to me.” Skye was too stunned to react before Pepper opened the door. “Steve?” Pepper asked. Steve popped his head in, looking curious. “Steve, I want to set up a consultation for a few personal shoppers so Skye can get some new clothes. Do you know when she’d be up for that?” Steve’s face lit up at the prospect. He enjoyed treating his soulmates, even if it was on Tony’s dime. “I think she should be okay to stand for a few minutes by next Saturday,” Steve said. “Sharon should be available to help her if she needs it.” “As for Tony, we should probably go see him now,” Pepper said. “Now?” Steve asked, alarmed. Pepper nodded. “We can’t put off something like this,” she said. Steve scooped Skye up. “I can drop you off at the apartment,” he offered. “Nah, I want to be there for you.” Skye said, smiling wanly. “Besides, I can help Pepper make sure nothing gets blown out of proportion.” Steve and Pepper walked down to Tony’s lab where he was working with AC/DC blasting the background. JARVIS automatically lowered the music to a reasonable level when Pepper entered the room. Tony spoke before he looked up. “Pepper, what have I told you about -” He brightened when he looked up. “Skyenet! Finally. I was hoping Capsicle would bring you by sooner rather than later. That thing you did to the Russian Government’s internet so users’ tweets could reach American soil. Plus that thing you did with the CIA? How did you even do that? I can’t figure it out.” “Tony,” Pepper said calmly. “I need you to listen to what Steve and Skye found out.” It was only then that Tony noticed their faces. “What? What’s wrong? Who died?” Steve flinched. “We’ve discovered something in the HYDRA data about your parents’ deaths,” Steve said carefully. Tony’s demeanor immediately changed. “My parents… died in a car accident…” he said slowly. Tony seemed like a small child just for that moment. Steve looked crushed. “No, Tony, they didn’t. HYDRA… HYDRA killed them.” “What?” Tony asked, his voice shaking. Skye squeezed Steve’s hand reassuringly. “But… why?” “The file seems to indicate that there was a version of the serum in the trunk of the car. HYDRA wanted it,” Skye said, filling in for Steve when he couldn’t proceed. “They sent their Asset. And before you say anything, please listen to the rest,” Skye continued in a rush before Tony could process what she had said. “There’s more?” Tony asked, looking rather angry. “Bucky… James… doesn’t know who he is right now,” Skye said. “He didn’t even know he was allowed a name, let alone he had one. He keeps asking us what his orders are… Tony, the video files I found dated from 1945… they were of James screaming in pain as they sucked his mind out of his own body. I know those screams… I… I made them too.” Pepper and Tony looked unsettled by this news while Steve’s grip on her tightened almost to the point of pain. “It… it didn’t work,” she said haltingly. “My bond… it kept me… inside, I guess. But Bucky… James… didn’t have that.” “And I don’t think I’ll ever be grateful enough that she did,” Steve said, his voice breaking. “I, um… Pepper, can we go up to the penthouse?” Tony asked quietly. “Sure, Tony,” Pepper said, nodding. “We’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Pepper said to Steve and Skye. “We’re just going to…” “We understand,” Steve said quietly. “If you want to talk or hack or something, I’ll be online after dinner,” Skye offered Tony. Tony seemed to come back to himself. “Maybe some other night, Skyenet. Not tonight,” he said. “Any time,” Skye said with a tight smile. Steve carried her out as Skye became lost in her own thoughts. “Our floor, JARVIS.” “You okay?” Steve asked her quietly. “I need to find out what happened to them,” Skye said weakly. “Your parents?” Steve asked, connecting the dots. “I know with Whitehall said…” Skye said in a pained voice. “It sounds like he killed my mother… but I need to know… there will always be a piece of me that will be empty until I know my whole story. My story doesn’t start anywhere, Steve. It’s like I’m a book with the first chapter ripped out. I know that with the HYDRA take down… everyone’s super busy…” “Hey, if it’s important to you, then of course I’ll help,” Steve said softly. “I mean, it can wait a little. I’ve waited over twenty years, but it’s time I knew the truth. It’s like I told Coulson at the beginning of all this. The truth can’t be worse than what I’ve imagined.” “So spies tortured to death for information made your list?” Steve asked incredulous. “Are you kidding? That was one of the cooler ones we came up with when I was a kid,” Skye said with a fond grin. “Yeah? What else made the list?” “Well, one was that Tony Stark was my father but didn’t know about me, the typical orphan pipe dream. Another was someone lost me in a bet. Another was that I was being hidden from the Chinese Triad. A different one where I was some kind of Triad princess or heiress. It got pretty inventive.” A few weeks passed in the tower. James’ therapy went slowly, but he started to pick up bits and pieces of memories here and there. He also had an easier time making choices on his own, but he still wasn’t able to ask for anything, even though everyone told him repeatedly that he could. All of Bucky’s doctors had assured them that Bucky was making the best progress that they could expect. A deprogrammer had been brought in and was starting to remove the triggers from Bucky’s mind, courtesy of a red book that had been found in the warehouse Bucky had been found in. The book read like the manual of an appliance, which made Steve furious. Skye’s physical therapy went well. At the six week mark, Skye’s walking cast was officially removed and the trio celebrated all night, reminding each other that they were alive and together and that was what counted. Tony, meanwhile, avoided Steve and James like the plague, but sort-of talked to Skye about the fact that James had been used to kill his parents. “My father would have liked you,” he said to her one afternoon. “Yeah?” Skye asked. “Why do you say that?” “He liked smart, driven, and mature,” Tony said bluntly. “Granted, he’d never listen to a word you said, but he would have tried to hire you. He sucked as a father, but he knew how to pick ‘em.” Skye stopped typing and turned towards Tony. “You know, honestly, I can’t pretend to understand that. I get that things ended… complicated between you, but the photos of him with you as a kid… you could tell he was proud of you.” “Those were just photos, Skyenet,” Tony said. “The reality was something different.” Skye shook her head. “I think that’s bull,” she said. “I think you’re just having trouble accepting the fact that your parents were… human. Complicated.” Tony was silent, and continued working. “You know, when I was a kid, I used to come up with the worst things that could have happened to my parents to cause me to have no origin. You know what was at the top of that list?” Tony said nothing, so Skye continued. “It was that my parents just didn’t want me. That’s the worst feeling in the world. Anything beyond that just makes them human. Capable of mistakes.” Tony was silent for a long time. “If it’s true, then they’re idiots,” he muttered. “If you’ve imagined all these scenarios, then why are you doing this?” he asked curiously. “Why look for them?” Skye smiled sadly. “Because everyone deserves to know their history. And if my parents didn’t want me… then at least I’ll know.” It wasn’t long afterwards that James remembered Rebecca, his younger sister, which was a huge gain according to Steve. James seemed to be gaining confidence in himself and Tony was very slowly began adjusting to the fact that HYDRA was to blame for his parents’ car accident. That week was also the week that Steve finally caved and allowed Skye to see Pierce. According to Coulson, Ward was also asking for Skye and refused to talk to anyone else. Skye agreed to step in to see him. So Skye found herself at the Fridge in one of the holding cells standing across from Ward. “Skye,” Ward said, his face lighting up. “You came.” “I only came because Coulson asked me to,” Skye said. “That can’t be the only reason,” Ward said smoothly. “You have feelings for me, don’t you?” Skye shuddered. “The only feeling I have for you is hatred,” Skye snapped. “Especially after what I heard you wanted them to do to me.” “We were meant to be,” Ward said, confusion etched on his face. “Don’t you know that?” “I have soulmates,” Skye said. “I don’t need anyone but them.” “One meeting with one of them doesn’t mean it’ll work out, Skye,” Ward reasoned. “I wanted to give you a chance to love who you wanted to, not who Fate put you with.” Skye shook her head. “You assumed that I hadn’t bonded with my soulmates, but I did. Over Christmas we all snuck away and spent the holiday together.” Ward looked gobsmacked. “And even if I had a choice, I’d never choose you.” Ward’s face went furious. “You know why I did all this Skye? It’s because, for the first time in a long time, I wanted something for myself. One of these days I’m going to get out of here. Maybe then I should just take what I want.” From the hungry leer on Ward’s face and Skye’s past knowledge that Ward was a little obsessed with her, it was clear what he wanted. Skye went white as a sheet and started backing out of the room as fast as she could, her eyes never leaving Ward until the door clicked shut. Steve was being held back by Fury and Coulson and both were struggling to keep it that way. Sharon looked like she wanted to go after Ward, but the second Skye turned around, Sharon rushed for her and Skye crumpled into sobs. Steve joined them not long after, pulling Skye into his arms and hugging her tightly. He seemed to be holding onto her for dear life. Trying to keep himself from killing the man. Sharon, however, had no such hesitation. “She’s not doing that again,” Steve told Coulson. Coulson nodded in understanding. “Hey,” Skye heard Sharon say. Then they heard the crunch of bone and a grunt. “Trust me, you’re getting off easy. Steve’s on the other side of the door.” “I want to see Pierce,” Skye said softly. “Skye,” Steve said, still looking like he wanted to punch someone, “are you sure? Wouldn’t you rather just go home?” Skye shook her head. “I meant what I said. I want him to see that he can’t break me.” Steve insisted on coming in with Skye to see Pierce’s cell. Skye had seen pictures of him from before, and the man looked far different in the prison jumpsuit he’d been given. “You didn’t break me, or Steve, or SHIELD,” Skye said to the man. “HYDRA will rise again,” Pierce said with a smirk. “You’ll never find Whitehall. I hear you’re looking for him.” “He killed my mother,” Skye said. “Of course he did,” Pierce said. “How do you think Herr Reinhardt reversed his aging?” Skye faltered. “What?” she asked. “Your mother had a power,” Pierce said. “She didn’t age. Reinhardt used her to unlock the fountain of youth.” Skye went a little gray in the face. “So Daniel Whitehall is Reinhardt,” Steve said, “And he will help HYDRA survive.” “SHIELD survives too,” Skye snarled. “There will always be people to stand up against HYDRA. And now we know that you’re still around, we’ll beat you.” She put her hand in Steve’s. “HYDRA will always do the same thing wrong over and over.” Skye collapsed into Steve’s arms when it was over, Fury looking speechless. “SHIELD… SHIELD saved me from HYDRA,” she managed to tell them. After her visit to the Fridge, Skye started feeling like something was off. She couldn’t put her finger on why, so she chalked it up to having to deal with Ward and Pierce. Skye went about her usual week, doing physical therapy, coding, visiting James, and bugging Steve and Sharon about when they were going to let her return to SHIELD. On her last several visits, James repeatedly gave her odd looks. “What?” Skye asked him finally. “I don’t know,” Bucky said. “Something seems different.” After a week, Skye caved and went to Google her symptoms to figure out what might going on. After scanning past all the “it’s cancer and you’re going to die” results, she landed on a hyperlink that caused her to pause. It was a possibility, she knew, but she wanted to be sure. Texting Steve (who was on some Avengers day trip) and Sharon (who was at the Triskellion) that she was going out but was taking an ICER and her SHIELD badge with her. Steve didn’t even respond in his usual panic about her going outside alone until she was already back in the tower. Sharon was usually fine as long as she kept her up to date, which Skye always did as long as Sharon and Steve did. Sharon and Steve found Skye in their room with the lights off when they returned home from SHIELD that night. Skye’d had been wearing herself out between physical therapy, helping James and Tony, and the projects that Fury was having her start on for the Comms department from the tower. They were tempted to let her sleep, but she’d also been extra hungry from all the work she was doing and they didn’t want her to skip a meal anyway. “Skye,” Sharon asked softly. Skye groaned half-heartedly in response and covered herself with the comforter. “You feeling okay?” “JARVIS. Lights on to half?” Steve requested. Skye sat up, blinking blearily. “You fall asleep after doing your physical therapy again?” Sharon asked curiously. “No,” Skye said grumpily. “I think you’ve been working too hard. You should take some time off this weekend,” Steve said. “Maybe we should go somewhere.” For some reason, Skye started sobbing. “Skye? Are you okay?” Sharon asked, now concerned. “Is this about your Ops training being delayed another month?” Skye sobered at the thought. “It’s… uh…. It’s going to get delayed longer than that,” Skye admitted softly. “What?” Steve asked, surprised. “Why? And for how long?” “About ten months,” Skye said. “A year?” Steve exclaimed. “They said you couldn’t spar for a year ?” Sharon froze, deep in thought. “Not yet,” Skye said nervously, “but they’re going to.” “Why in God’s name can’t you spar for a year?” Steve asked. “Because I’m pregnant,” Skye said simply. She watched as Steve’s and Sharon’s faces changed. Sharon looked ecstatic, immediately embracing Skye. Steve, meanwhile, looked at Skye reverently. “Pregnant?” he asked quietly. Skye smiled and nodded. She knew in that moment that she had found her happy ending. Her family. Whatever happened next, everything would be okay. Through the bond, she could feel their joy and support. She knew they were going to coddle her during her pregnancy, but some small part of her was alright with it to a degree. From what she heard, she was going to want all the foot rubs she could get. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Skye felt disgustingly large. At six months pregnant with a super soldier’s baby, she looked like she was eight months. She moved slow these days, so Steve had a hard time allowing her to go anywhere without an escort of someone who could defend her and themselves. It had taken a while for Skye to adjust to Steve’s constant overprotectiveness and hypervigilance. After a few months, Skye realized that it had nothing to do with the fact that she was a woman and everything to do with the fact that she’d nearly died and now it wasn’t just her life, but their child’s as well. She often, in the first weeks since she told her soulmates about the baby, woke up to find Steve staring at her in wonderment and awe. It helped that she was happy in the Comms department, though she usually fell asleep the second she got home and it was an effort to rouse her for dinner. This particular day, Steve and Skye were going out in public to the White House. Steve had been invited to multiple public Christmas Parties, but had declined because he didn’t want to leave Skye out of the festivities and Skye felt uncomfortable with the idea of going to a public event - especially with Whitehall still out there. Given the circumstances, the President had invited them to a private dinner. It still required Skye trying to find a maternity dress that was nice enough for the White House, but at least she wouldn’t be out and pregnant in front of hundreds of people with smartphones. Pepper ended up saving the day by contacting several designers and providing her with dresses that fit the bill. The whole situation seemed pretty surreal to Skye. A little more than a year prior, she’d been homeless and friendless, and now she was going to the White House. Dinner was lovely, especially since the President didn’t talk shop but instead asked Steve questions about what it was like to grow up during the Roaring Twenties and the Depression. “I have to say, I’m a little impressed that you’ve kept this a secret,” the President said, indicating Skye, whose wedding ring twinkled as she rested her left hand on her pregnant belly. “What’s a little covert ops between soulmates,” Skye joked lightly. “Nothing that two Agents of SHIELD can’t handle,” the President said with a smile. “Besides, it should be no trouble for you. I hear you practically brought HYDRA to its knees single-handed.” Skye felt Steve tense next to her. “It wasn’t easy, but it needed to be done,” Skye said non-committally. “There were a lot more people than just me involved though.” In the six months since it happened, Skye had received intense therapy for what had happened to her. It had taken a while for her to trust Andrew, but she was now working through not just her kidnapping but also some of the more traumatic parts of her childhood and the fears that developed because of them. “The world owes you more than they know,” the President acknowledged. “Yeah, but I’m not exactly one for the spotlight,” Skye said, desperate to defuse the situation. “It’s why I started as a hacker…” The rest of the night passed easily enough, though Skye was dead on her feet by the time they got home. “I haven’t felt that awkward since Coulson black-bagged me out of my own home,” Skye said when they arrived home, immediately taking off her shoes. “I hope you didn’t expect to ever be asked back to the White House.” “I never did enjoy the spotlight,” Steve said. “Come on, let’s get you two to bed.” Skye didn’t even check to see social media until the next morning. By then the Instagram picture of Steve and a very pregnant Skye some tourist had taken was all over the internet. There were news articles about it, and the Washington Post had tracked down her identity as Skye Rogers. Their marriage certificate confirmed that they were in a bonded relationship with one Sharon Carter, so articles everywhere were talking about Skye, Sharon, and Steve, and the pending baby. “Come on,” Steve said, his voice like steel. “What?” Skye asked. “We’ve got to get you somewhere safe,” Steve said. “We’ll start with the Triskellion.” “Steve,” Skye groaned. “Every HYDRA agent still free is going to try to make a run at you,” Steve said. “Fine,” Skye conceded. “Let’s go to the Triskellion.” “Good, I’ve got a STRIKE Team coming in,” Steve said anxiously. “Steven Grant,” Skye said, now annoyed. ---------- Daniel Whitehall reclined in his office chair as he read the article that accompanied the photo he was interested in. The woman who had resisted Faustus was now pregnant with Steve Rogers’ baby. With HYDRA exposed and most of their members arrested or on every Most Wanted in the world, Whitehall’s resources had become extremely limited, but if this really was the girl from the village in Hunan… if the woman who never aged had had a child… he had to know what this girl, and possibly her child, was made of. One thing was for certain, getting this girl was now at the top of his priority list. “Something interesting in the news Daniel?” Dr. List asked. “The woman who was able to resist Faustus and foiled Insight… she’s pregnant with Steve Roger’s child.” That got Dr. List’s attention. “The chances that the serum transferred to the child are quite high,” he said. “We could raise it to be our new Winter Soldier.” “I want the woman, Skye.” Daniel insisted. “That’s fine, you can have her. Perhaps we can use the samples we extracted from Barnes to impregnate her after she gives birth. Create an army of Soldiers.” “I believe that could be arranged once we get our hands on her,” Whitehall said. “I’ll contact my friends in Sokovia to see if we can use their facilities.” “Think they could loan us some muscle-heads?” Whitehall asked. List sighed heavily. “I shall make an inquiry for you,” he said. “Could we clone the child?” Whitehall asked. List gained a pensive gaze. “... I need to consult with a few people,” List said. “But I believe that we could.” ---------- “I’m sure of it,” Raina said, presenting the photograph to Cal. “This is your daughter.” Cal Zabo stared at the image in front of him. The girl in the photo certainly looked like Jiaying. If she was… he had to give her the opportunity to become who she was meant to be. Maybe then she’d be convinced that she and her child belonged with Jiaying and him back in Lai Shi. He wondered what she would become. Probably something amazing. Even being separated from her parents for most of her life, Cal could tell that his daughter was meant for amazing things. “What will you become?” Cal asked the photograph as he heard Raina leave the room. “My Daisy…”
10331786	PODFIC family means no	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Steve Rogers, Original Female Character, Original Male Character, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Thor (Marvel), James \"Bucky\" Barnes", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by forzandopod", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "2017-03-17", "published": "2016-12-31T00:00:00", "words": "32", "Additional Tags": "the stucky is slight, It's not the focus of the story, But it's there, Bisexual Steve Rogers, the use of 'queer' by a man from the 1940s who is used to using it, Fluff, Angst, Humor, steve rogers accidentally adopts young lgbt youth, Podfic, Podfic Length: 1-1.5 Hours, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, #ITPE", "Relationship": "James \"Bucky\" Barnes/Steve Rogers", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "#ITPE 2016", "Fandoms": "Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Cover Artist: forzandopodLength: 01:14:25 Music: This Is Home by SwitchfootDownload: You can stream or download this podfic as an mp3 over here (thank you litra for hosting me!)
10381788	A Secret About a Secret	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Dickon Sowerby, Mary Lennox", "Fandom": "The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by honey_wheeler", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-20T00:00:00", "words": "811", "Additional Tags": "Future Fic, Post-WWI", "Relationship": "Mary Lennox/Dickon Sowerby", "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’s just as it used to be.Dickon should feel guilty for even thinking such a thing, let alone feeling it deep in his marrow as he does. There’s very little that’s the same as it was, with half the servants gone in the war, with Mr. Craven as ill abed as any man Dickon’s ever seen, with poor Colin dead and buried in a field somewhere in France and Dickon’s injured leg unlikely to ever bear his full weight again. It should seem disloyal to feel his heart seize with recognition every time he enters the little garden that’s more wild and overgrown and beautiful than ever.It’s only that it’s Mary who made everything what it was then.She’s as different as everything else, a woman grown with a woman’s troubles shadowing her face and slowing her stride, but here in the garden she feels just the same as the Mary she was, his Mary, though he’d barely dared to think her so, so above his station was she. The war has a way of making such distinction meaningless, though, and once he’d let himself remember the way she always felt his, from the moment that Martha first spoke of her, it became the only way he could think of her. Her hands are rougher now, her body softer and her voice warmer, but she’s still the Mary who quivered with joy when the crocus bloomed, and who bloomed for him just the same with a few soft words and some patient coaxing, who trusted him as implicitly as Soot and Captain ever did.Dickon remembers how Captain rumbled with pleasure when he was stroked. He can’t help wondering if Mary would do the same.She’s not a beautiful woman; Dickon’s seen enough of life to know that. If he’s objective about it, he’d have to admit she’d looked awful when he first returned, as gray and pinched and brittle as Martha said she’d been when she arrived as a child. Mr. Craven’s care has taken a toll on her, as sick as he is. The rest of the household thinks her deep in mourning for Colin, as they were to be married upon his return, but she’d confessed the truth to Dickon one twilight, as they worked together to clear beds grown crowded with weeds. She’d never quite wanted to be Colin’s bride, she said, only it all seemed to happen without her say so, like it was something expected. Something owed.Dickon had only nodded in understanding. Hadn’t he ended up in the army in much the same way? War had been the opposite of everything about him. Dickon never truly realized how much he dwelled in life and living, not until everything around him was death and destruction. There was no room for softness, for quiet, for green, growing life. They dug trenches and uprooted plants, killed everything around them with foul gases and shrapnel, including each other. When the mortar struck, Dickon had been glad. He’d seen men blown apart by shells, limbs cut through, crying out to a God gone missing, and still he welcomed that mortar, knowing that whatever it did to him would be worth getting out. It would be worth anything as long as he could come home.“Your Yorkshire has come back,” she says one afternoon. She looks content on her knees in the grass, dirt under her fingernails, smudges on her cheeks, her hair escaping its confines in tendrils that curl like the ivy climbing the walls, nothing like the wan, worn girl she’d been just a few months ago. In the waning sunlight, she could almost be lovely.“Has it?” The loss of the broad tones and elisions of his youthful tongue wasn’t a deliberate effort so much as a gradual change, the result of the years of schooling Mr. Craven sponsored for him, then the years in barracks, mimicking his fellow soldiers, learning their language as he’d once learned the language of squirrels and foxes and robins. He hadn’t realized until now how lonely that made him.“Aye, tha’s been speakin’ like a right Yorkshire lad again,” Mary says with a grin, bumping him with her shoulder in companionable teasing. He’d always liked her attempts at Yorkshire, so intent and studious, like someone learning a real foreign language. He could tell her that she’s what brought his Yorkshire back, that she’s what’s bringing him back to life, the way they’d once done for this garden and for Colin. He could tell her that this is all he wants to do, for the rest of his life, share this garden with her. He could tell her that he loves her.Instead he just smiles at her, nudging her in return and saying “It mun be th’ garden bringing it out.” Some things don’t need words to be said.
10349424	Distractions	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Ayasato Chihiro \| Mia Fey, Houzuki Tomoe \| Lana Skye", "Fandom": "逆転裁判 \| Gyakuten Saiban \| Ace Attorney", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by adventuresofcomicbookgirl", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "2017-03-19", "published": "2017-03-18T00:00:00", "words": "2,981", "Additional Tags": "Mild Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dead Parents, Supernatural Elements", "Relationship": "Ayasato Chihiro \| Mia Fey/Houzuki Tomoe \| Lana Skye", "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 }	Mia had never spoken to another soul about why she was set on becoming a lawyer. She’d never talked to anyone about her mother, or spirit channeling, or any of it. Until Lana.She’d been braced for the DL-6 incident to come up in class. It was a famous case, after all. Mia had told herself she’d be fine, no matter what was said. But when her teacher mentioned the police’s disastrous use of a fraudulent medium as an example of a time when an attorney had been forced to go up against the cops, it still felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. And when the boy next to her had laughed about it and said he’d heard the fraud had vanished after being humiliated, she could barely restrain herself Class let out and she stomped out of the room, fist clenched and shaking. She hurried into the girl’s bathroom. God, she needed to punch something. She wanted to punch that boy’s smug face but she knew she couldn’t, she couldn’t, no matter how much she wanted to.With a scream of rage, she punched the wall next to bathroom mirror, hard. Shockwaves of pain rushed up her arm and the scream turned to one of pain. She reeled back, gripping her bruised knuckles.“You’re Misty Fey’s daughter, aren’t you?”She’d whipped around to see Lana Skye standing in the doorway. Her face went hot. She’d had…study sessions with Lana before. One of those study sessions had turned into a makeout session. There was something alluring about that sparkle in her eyes she got when talking about a difficult case, the flush of passion in her cheeks.. Still, it was just a fling, really. Mia didn’t have time to be in a relationship and she knew Lana felt the same. They were both driven, that’s what had bought them together.And now there she stood, crisp suit, hair draped elegantly over her shoulder, her face soft and lovely and composed as she witnessed Mia’s snarly, panting, bleeding nervous breakdown.It was too much, really. The humiliation rose in Mia, hotter and hotter…then it all went cold. She found she didn’t care anymore. Lana was going to laugh at her, expose her, whatever, that was fine. She’d just continue working towards her goal. She didn’t need friends or fuckbuddies or whatever. She was fine being alone. All she needed was her sister, waiting for her back home, waiting for her to get their mother back.“Yes. I am.” Mia straightened up and tossed her hair, looking at Lana defiantly. “If you want to mock me about it right now, though, I’d reconsider. I’m not in a great mood, as the wall can tell you.”Lana tilted her head, staring at Mia hard. Then she said, “You know, I thought you were different from the rest. There’s a fire in you…are you trying to become a lawyer to get to the bottom of what happened to your mother? It was that defense attorney who exposed her, right?”Mia was so taken aback by how quickly Lana had zeroed in on her goal she just nodded mutely.Lana’s face broke into a smile. “That,” she said “Is cool. You’re an impressive woman, Mia Fey.”Mia just stared at her. Her smile was beautiful, soft and pink. It was all she could focus on for some reason. Lana walked up to her. “Let me see your hand.” After a brief moment of hesitation, Mia offered it. Lana took her hand and a shivery feeling of pleasure went through Mia’s body. Jesus. It was like she was some love struck little girl again. “You are one hard hitter, not that I’m surprised. Well, I’ve got some medicine for this,” Lana gave Mia a sly smile. “In my room. If you want to come with me.”Mia bit her lip. You’re not supposed to have distractions. A voice echoed in her head. But this didn’t feel like a distraction. She knew Lana wouldn’t slow her down on the way to her goal. She’d probably actually be a big help.“What the hell,” Mia said. “Lead the way.”Lana actually did have medicine for cuts and bandages and she fixed Mia up pretty good. As she did, however, she kissed Mia’s bruised knuckles…then the kisses traveled up her arm, to her neck, to her lips…they sank into her bed together and Mia found herself telling Lana everything, all about her family and DL-6 and Maya back home…Lana held her and whispered that she also had a sister she had to take care of, that she understood…and Mia felt deep in her gut that she really did. That night, she surrendered herself to bliss and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel alone. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It was an odd feeling for Mia, waking up in someone else’s bed. It was even odder to feel the warmth of another person behind her. And the odd feeling only worsened when she remembered how she’d poured her heart out to Lana the night before.Lana didn’t seem at all flustered, though it was hard to tell with her. She suggested they go get some coffee and study together. And so they did. They sat at the quiet little cafe they both liked the frequent, textbooks open and caffeine on hand. But Mia found it hard to concentrate on her studies.“You seem like you want to talk,” Lana after a while. Mia looked up to her and saw she was leaning toward her, chin in hand. “You can go ahead, you know.”“I just feel…weird. I told you everything last night, but I don’t know all that much about you. Like why you want to be a prosecutor. What your family’s like.” Mia fiddled with her hair. “It felt like you understood me, when I told you about why I was doing what I’m doing. I feel a…connection with you, even though I don’t know why. And I want to know more.”Lana leaned back, tapping her fingers on the side of her cup. She wasn’t looking Mia directly in the eye. “You were right, I do understand. But my story…isn’t really great breakfast conversation.”“Yeah, well, mine wasn’t really great post-sex conversation. We still managed.”A faint blush appeared on Lana’s cheeks. Mia was surprised. She hadn’t known Lana was capable of getting embarrassed. “It’s not something I’ve told anyone, why I came here. Not even Ema.”“I never told Maya why I left either. You were the first person I talked about it to.”Lana sighed and finally looked at Mia. “Tit for tat, huh? Okay, fine, I’ll tell you. It’s only fair.” She straightened up, tucking her hair behind her ear. Mia leaned forward, listening intently.“I do understand how you feel, a bit. Because…I also want to become a prosecutor because of my parents. To get to the bottom of what happened to them.”Mia raised her eyebrows. “And…what happened to them?”“They’re dead,” Lana said bluntly. “They died in a car accident. Or at least it was supposed to be an accident. I don’t think it was.” Her hand tightened around her coffee cup. “Drugs were found in my mother’s system during the autopsy. She lost control of the car. The police concluded she was taking them herself. She was…she had an addictive personality. But she hadn’t…in years.. She was a very honest person, she never hid anything from us. I know relapses happen, but…my father would have known if she’d taken them. She wouldn’t have kept it from him. And he wouldn’t have let her drive.”“I’m guessing you told the police this and they didn’t believe you?” Mia murmured.Lana nodded stiffly. “I never told Ema what I suspect…she shouldn’t have to deal with it. But it’s why I entered this field. I plan to work as a detective for a bit on my way to becoming a prosecutor. I’ll use the resources of the police department and find whoever killed them. Then, I’ll become a prosecutor and have them found guilty myself.”Her lips pressed together in a hard line at this. Mia saw her hand on the table was shaking. She put her own hand over it, rubbing her thumb gently against the soft skin. “I know you’ll do it,” Mia told her. “You’re an impressive woman, Lana Skye.”Lana smiled. The shaking calmed. “Come up with your own pick-up lines, Mia.’ She took a small sip of coffee. “But hey, I believe in you too. You’ll clear your mother’s name. And I bet she’ll even come back when you do.”“Maybe,” Mia said with a sigh. “If nothing else, I want to be able to talk to her…just more time. I want to be the one to tell her everything i’ve done…and about how Maya’s grown up…”“I know what you mean,” Lana said wistfully. “I’d give anything to talk to my mother one last time.”Mia felt a sudden heat against her chest. Her hand jumped to her necklace hidden carefully under her blouse. Her magatama…why was it so warm all of the sudden? It was like Lana’s words had ignited it, that it was reminding her of the person she used to be…what she could do…what she could do for Lana.Mia shook it off. No. She wasn’t that person anymore. She’d left the twisted Fey legacy behind. Maya was the only successor now. She was just a law student. And these forces were dangerous. They couldn’t be toyed with for…for a girl she liked.She told herself that, but as the months went by and her relationship with Lana deepened, the thought still wouldn’t leave her. The magatama reacted every time Lana’s mother came up and it just burned hotter and hotter…it began to hurt.About three months after they started dating, it became too much. It was when Lana was showing her photos her sister had sent from the science camp she was at. Lana looked fondly at one of them, where her sister proudly brandished the first place ribbon she’d won in some competition. “I wish Mom could see these. She’d be so thrilled.”It was like a red-hot coal had come to life on her chest. Mia yelped and jerked the magatama out from under her collar. But even when it was on top of her shirt, she could feel the burning.“Mia, what’s wrong?” Lana said, alarmed. Her eyes feel to the magatama. “That necklace is so pretty. I don’t know why you keep it hidden. You should wear it like that all the time”Mia let her hand drop to her side. Clearly, it was time to spill the beans. “Lana…I’ve been trying not to say thing because it’s…a weird experience. But if you wanted, I could help you talk to your mother one last time.”Lana’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What?”“You know how my mother could channel spirits? I…can do it too. The women in our family…they inherit the gift. I haven’t done it in a long time…but I wanted to tell you. That if you really want to talk to her, I can channel her for you. Not for more than a few hours, but…”“I…I….” Lana’s eyes darted from side to side. “You’re serious here? You can’t be serious. Spirit channeling isn’t…that can’t be real…”“What, so you think my mother was a fraud too?” Mia couldn’t keep the irritation out of her voice.“No,…It’s just…I have to go.” Lana got up abruptly. She jumped up, pictures in hand and ran out of Mia’s room.It took Mia a few seconds to process what had happened. She glared down at the magatama. “Thanks. Looks like you’ve destroyed my love life.”Lana avoided her when she saw her the next couple of days. If she saw Mia in the hall, she’d turn and walk to other way. Stubbornly telling herself she was fine with this, Mia took Lana’s advice and wore the magatama openly around her neck. She even went out and bought a low cut top for the occasion. During class, she’d catch Lana eyeing her chest. It was hard to tell if she was staring at the magatama or her cleavage. At any rate, she always looked quickly away whenever Mia caught her. Mia wasn’t ashamed to admit she felt a little vindictive pleasure in that.Then one night, there was a knock on her door. She opened it to find Lana standing there. She looked uncharacteristically unsure, staring down at her feet. “Hi,” she mumbled.“Hi,” Mia responded flatly.“I’m…sorry I’ve been avoiding you. I was just…it took me some time to process everything. Can I come in?”Mia glared at her for a second. But she couldn’t keep it up. Shoulders slumping, she relented. “Sure.”Lana sat herself on the edge of Mia’s bed, doing that thing where she didn’t really look at her. Mia knew it well by now, that this was how Lana acted when she was uncomfortable.“I…thought about it for a long time. It’s hard for me to believe spirit channeling is real but I…I do trust you.” She bowed her head a little. “And…I would like to talk to my mother again. Sentimentality aside, she might be able to tell me who killed her. If she was killed.” Lana laughed a little weakly. “Part of me’s a little afraid of finding out she wasn’t. That I did all this for nothing. That I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did. I think that’s why it took me a while to decide.”Mia knelt towards Lana and propped her chin up with two fingers so they looked each other in the eye. It was a slight shock to see Lana’s looked a little wet.“Are you sure about this, Lana?” Mia asked softly. “It’s going to be weird. I’ll…change, physically to look like your mother. I’ll talk in her voice. It’s pretty freaky.”Lana took Mia’s hand. She nodded. “It’ll be fine. I’m ready.”“Okay. You have a picture of her right? I need to see it before I channel her.”Lana pulled out her wallet and showed her a photo of a laughing woman. Mia couldn’t help but smile. “She’s beautiful. Just like you.” She let go of Lana’s hand and stood up, backing up a few steps. “Okay. Here I go. See you in a few hours.”It was hard to describe what channeling someone felt like. It was like you were floating somewhere far away, somewhere dark and warm. Your body was gone. Everything was gone. And you could sort of feel someone else off in the distance connected to you by a thin thread. There were vague impressions of the emotions they felt- happiness, anger, sadness…talented mediums would be able to sense if the spirit got violent and break the connection when it happened. As she waited in the dark, Mia could feel a powerful joy and sadness from the person she was tethered too and little else.Finally, the thread snapped and she was pulled back into her body.When she opened her eyes, she found Lana crying. There was none of her usual dignity in these tears. Her face was beet red and twisted, snot was dripping out of her nose and her wails were loud and unrestrained, like a child’s.“Lana!” Mia grabbed her by the shoulders. “Lana, I’m back! What’s wrong, did something bad happen?”Lana shook her head.“You didn’t…find out that she really took the drugs, did you?”Again, Lana shook her head. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked up at Mia with bloodshot eyes. “N…no. S-she gave me a great lead, actually. It’ll h-help me find who did it…it was just…seeing her…it was so….” She collapsed in Mia’s arms, burying her face in her shoulder. “Thank you, Mia.” she mumbled. “Thank you so much.”Mia’s entire body went limp with relief. She put her arms around Lana. “I’m glad I could help. This is the only good thing spirit channeling has ever done for me.”Lana straightened and stepped back. She gave Mia a watery smile and she somehow looked more beautiful to Mia than ever, snotty nose, flyaway hair, puffy eyes and all. “How can I ever repay you?”“Lana, if I hadn’t met you, I’d probably be fruitlessly throwing tantrums and hating everyone right now. You showed me I’m not alone. Just be you and be with me and I’ll be happy.”Lana shook her head. “Now that’s a pickup line. You finally came up with your own.”“Way better than yours.”“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, I’ll always owe you. Dinner’s on me tonight. And if you ever need a favor from Prosecutor Lana Skye in the future, you know you’ve got it.” Lana squeezed her shoulder.“Oh? What if we find ourselves facing off in court?”“Well, all bets are off if that happens, obviously. I’ll kick your ass.”“You can try,” Mia laughed. “Now go wash your face. I’m not going to kiss someone in such a snotty state.”She watched her girlfriend go fondly, then touched the magatama at her neck. She hoped someday, she could talk to her mother as well. But even if that never happened, it was fine. After all, her mother had chosen to leave her behind, unlike Lana’s. But she still had a family. Maya, Lana, even Lana’s sister she hadn’t met…she’d never truly leave any of them. Not a single one of them was alone.
10374375	Ice Muse	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Garyuu Kyouya \| Klavier Gavin, Odoroki Housuke \| Apollo Justice", "Fandom": "逆転裁判 \| Gyakuten Saiban \| Ace Attorney", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Leonidas1754", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-19T00:00:00", "words": "1,421", "Additional Tags": "Fluff, figure skating, Post-Gyakuten Saiban 4 \| Apollo Justice, Pre-Gyakuten Saiban 5 \| Dual Destinies", "Relationship": "Garyuu Kyouya \| Klavier Gavin/Odoroki Housuke \| Apollo Justice", "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 }	Klavier loved music.He loved how it could express emotion in a way unlike any other, he loved how it affected people, he loved how it was the one language every single person in the world spoke. Sometimes, though, Klavier felt his hold on it lacking. Especially lately, with everything that happened with his brother and Daryan and cases and… He just couldn’t find the words, the melody of his heart was distant and weak.He placed his guitar aside and massaged his temples. He needed to take a break, do something else, but what in the world was he going to go this early on a Thursday morning? He moved to his closet and dug through, thinking of perhaps simply going for a jog, before knocking over a pair of ice skates and pausing. He’d learned to ice skate for a date, and it was fun, but he didn’t do it often, and it had been a long time since he’d last even been on a date, let alone one that involved skating. Perhaps doing something out of the box would spark his muse a bit.He moved to the computer, finding a nearby rink that was open, and got dressed in something warm before riding over on his motorcycle. There didn’t seem to be any other cars there, to his surprise, and he walked in, smiling to the woman at the counter.“Guten tag, I’m here to skate..? I wasn’t mistaken in thinking the rink was open, was I?” He asked, glancing around the empty lobby again.The woman shook her head, laughing softly. “Don’t worry, we’re open. We don’t get much business around this time, though, there’s really only one person that comes, because he likes to skate without people staring. I’m sure he won’t mind you being there too much.”“Well, I’ll be sure to ask if he minds. I’m not looking to bother anyone. I can wait for him to be done if needed.” He absently wondered why this other person wouldn’t want someone else around. Perhaps they were just self-conscious.“I’m sure he’d appreciate that. The lockers are just through there, sir.”“Thank you very much.” Klavier nodded to her before heading in. All he had to do was switch his shoes to skates, as it wasn’t too hot outside so that he’d have to change in here, thankfully. He moved through the door to the rink, looking out over the ice. As anticipated, there was someone on the ice already, though it made Klavier stop at the side, unable to believe his eyes.The person on the ice was Apollo, his courtroom rival. This in and of itself was a surprise, but not enough to make Klavier stop in his tracks. No, that was due to just what said rival was doing on the ice.Apollo was dressed in a rather snug outfit, a burgundy shirt and black pants fitting his form beautifully, and he moved on the ice as though he belonged there. Klavier had only watched figure skaters a few times, mostly during the Winter Olymics when he was bored enough to watch them, but this took his breath away. There was no music, just the sound of blades scraping and hitting the ice, and Klavier didn’t make a noise.Apollo dipped and turned, eventually leaping into the air and landing beautifully after several spins, Klavier couldn’t count how many. Eventually he circled into the middle, spinning in place until he stopped, head thrown back, body arched, hands reaching towards the ceiling. His body trembled and his chest shook with heavy breaths. It was an amazing sight.Before he realized what he was doing, Klavier slowly clapped, sharp sound echoing through the empty rink. Apollo jumped, whipping his head towards Klavier as he stood straight again. “P-Prosecutor Gavin? What are you doing here?”Klavier finally pushed onto the ice, smiling. “Well, I came here to skate, Herr Forehead. I didn’t expect to get such a breathtaking performance. I didn’t know you skate.”Apollo huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yea, well… Not a lot of people know, period. I just skate alone.”“You’re very good. I’m surprised you don’t compete.”“What?” Apollo said, startled. “No, I- I could never. I’m not that good. I just… It clears my head, helps me not think for a little while.” He finally pulled the earbuds out of his ears, though they’d been silent since the song ended.Klavier shrugged. “Makes sense. I came because I’m stuck.”“Stuck?”“I’ve been trying to write new songs, but alas, my muse is somewhat lacking.”“You still write songs? I thought after… Er, sorry.”“No, it’s… fine.” Klavier winced. “I didn’t just write songs for the band. I enjoy writing music, it helps me get out my thoughts and emotions. As a matter of fact, I may have just gotten some inspiration now.”Apollo looked up at him, wide eyed and confused. “What do you mean?”“As I said, your performance was breathtaking. You really should try a competition sometime. I think you have a real talent there.”Apollo cleared his throat, looking away. “I… I couldn’t. Even if I thought I really was that talented, I couldn’t handle all the staring.”Klavier smiled sympathetically. “Ah, stage fright. It undoes many a performer. You know what I do, Herr Forehead?”Apollo rolled his eyes. “Does it really matter? You know everyone loves you, I bet you barely get stage fright anymore.”“Mm, that’s true, I mostly have it under control now. But when the Gavineers were first starting out, I was deathly afraid.”“Yea? So… What did you do?”Klavier took a deep breath. “I… Remembered that my brother, and my friends were out there, and beside me on stage. And no matter what, they would still think the best of me.” Apollo winced at the mention of Kristoph, not that Klavier could blame him. His brother was a sore spot for them both, it probably would be for a long time, so Klavier kept talking before they could linger on it too long. “I know Herr Wright thinks a lot of you, as does that little Frauline Trucy. I bet even Ema would be willing to come watch you. She’s grumpy, but she respects you more than you think. And they’ve never seen how amazing you are.”Apollo’s cheeks were already slightly red from the cold, but his blush deepened at that. “Sure, sure…”“Come on, Herr Forehead, what’s the worst that can happen?”“I could break something, or multiple things, my costume could rip, and I could get laughed out of the rink,” Apollo replied, completely deadpan.“And what’s the best thing that could happen?” Klavier simply replied with a smile.Apollo looked confused. “I guess… I could get a perfect score, have everyone adore me, and move to a bigger competition?”“And what’s most likely going to happen?”“I… do alright, people think I’m a decent skater, and I have fun..? Why are you asking me all this?”“Because it makes you calmer, right?” Klavier chuckles. “You overthink, Herr Forehead. Yea, that worst possible thing could happen, but it’s almost impossible. The best possible thing probably won’t happen either, though I think it’s far more likely, with what I saw.”“Huh…” Apollo hummed softly. “I guess that does take some of the anxiety out of it. Thanks, Prosecutor Gavin. I still don’t think I should compete, though.”Klavier grinned. “Maybe I should just write a song, then, and post it online. All about the skater who shines like the sun and moves like music~”Apollo’s face flushed, and he looked incredulous. “Are you threatening to make me famous?”“Basically.” Klavier leaned down. “You can become well known of your own accord, or you can have my rabid fangirls come after you. What do you say?”“... Fine. I’ll go to one minor competition. I’d rather not deal with your crazy fans,” Apollo said with a shudder.“Ah, they’re quite passionate, aren’t they? I can’t say I blame you.” He didn’t mention that he’d still be writing that song. How could he not? The way Apollo had moved was like music itself, begging to be put to paper.“Well, I hope you’re happy with yourself, you jerk.” Apollo huffed softly.“Ja, quite, in fact.”Klavier had found his muse. It certainly hadn’t been in the way he was expecting, but, he mused as he skated around the edge and watched Apollo practice more, it was even better.
10358811	my tongue still	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Ronan Lynch, Joseph Kavinsky", "Fandom": "Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by crookedspoon", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-18T00:00:00", "words": "500", "Additional Tags": "Sexual Content, POV Second Person, POV Ronan Lynch, How Do I Tag, Community: slashthedrabble, Community: 1-million-words, Bottom Ronan Lynch", "Relationship": "Joseph Kavinsky/Ronan Lynch", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Just give me what I came for, [std] Four Hundreds, [1mw] Weekend Feeling", "Collections": "Slash_The_Drabble, spoon's slashtherabble fills", "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're panting, buzzing, and so, so high. It's almost too much when Kavinsky pins your hands beside your head. Your fingers interlace and something liquid and heavy pools in your chest. He might not even be aware of what he's doing, and yet for you, this gesture makes this deal a whole lot more intimate than you're prepared to let it be.Kavinsky is no boyfriend material, and you're in it for a host of complicated reasons, none of them involving tender feelings, but you're certain he's blurring the lines just to fuck with your head.You're about to come when he just fucking stops and peers down at you."What the actual fuck, K?" You'd be lying if you said this wasn't kind of hot, Kavinsky's eyes dark and burning into your own, but you're also a little preoccupied at the moment. "Move.""Answer me this," he says, apropos of nothing, sliding out of you torturously slow. "How much would it piss you off if I got into Gansey's pants before you did?""What?" Your brain's spinning like it's on a rotisserie, and it takes you some moments to understand what he's getting at. "Fuck, man. You don't know the first thing about Gansey. He's not gay.""I'm not gay either, but I still like to make you scream." He snaps his hips as if to prove a point.You'll never understand Kavinsky. Even balls-deep inside you, he'll claim he doesn't swing that way. How does his brain reconcile these facts? The drugs must have fried it."And you are such a screamer, before you try to deny it. It's okay, man. Nothing to be ashamed of.""Why Gansey, why now?" you croak. Sweat pools in the hollow of your throat and your skin is ablaze. Gansey's name has that effect on you."You want to fuck him. I want to fuck. Somewhere down the line it should be possible to have you both naked in my bed.""Shit," you breathe, drawn-out and insubstantial. You don't want to think about Gansey in your position, or anywhere near Kavinsky, undressed or not, but there it is, burrowing itself into your mind. "Never gonna happen, man. Not everyone is as sex-crazed as you."Kavinsky's grinning wide. "You never thought you'd enjoy coming here either.""Enjoy is a strong word.""We ought to give Dick the chance to decide for himself, don't you think?" He leans close to peck your lips. "Who knows, he might want this as much as you do."Before you have a chance to contradict him, he touches your prick and finally, finally gets you off. Your hand is cold with the phantom of his imprinted on it, and you're still reeling by the time he's chucked off his condom to rub his dick in your face."Or do you want to keep me all to yourself?"In a way, you're glad he's trying to stuff his cock down your throat. That way, you don't have to answer.
10345524	Deadly Exposure	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Stargate SG-1", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Jkrickit [archived by stargatefan_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2004-10-29T00:00:00", "words": "22,986", "Additional Tags": "Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, Hurt/Comfort", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "StargateFan Archive Collection", "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 }	Stargate SG-1 FanFiction - Deadly ExposureColonel O'Neill, Major Carter and Dr. Jackson stood silently in the gateroom as they waited for the fourth member of their team to appear.The Colonel looked from Carter to Daniel, but they quickly looked away. He wasn't surprised when Daniel was late getting himself to the gate room. In fact, he was more surprised when he was on time. But Teal'c? The man had an internal clock. He was never late. Until now."Well. This is different." He turned his attention to Major Carter. "Anybody seen Teal'c since he was in the infirmary getting his post-mission exam?"Sam looked up and glanced over at Daniel, who just shrugged, then diverted her attention back to her CO. "No sir. I'm sure something important must have come up."Just as she finished defending their fourth, Teal'c strode into the gateroom right up to the end of the ramp where the others stood waiting."I regret that I was not here at the appointed time, O'Neill." Teal'c nodded in Jack's direction and then faced the wormhole ready to begin their mission.Jack studied him for a moment, then glanced at Daniel and Sam, before motioning to Sgt. Davis to dial them up. "Glad you could finally join us, Teal'c. Ready campers?"Daniel's mouth dropped open as he stared at Jack. He glanced at Sam but she just grinned as puzzled as he was, before heading up the ramp after the Colonel. He was amazed that Teal'c had gotten off so easy. He looked over at Teal'c who was waiting to follow him up the ramp. He was sure he could see the faintest hint of a grin on his usually stoic face.~^~^~^~ They emerged from the wormhole and stopped dead in their tracks looking from one to the other as their faces scrunched up in disgust."Eww. What's that smell?" Daniel said as he pulled the front collar of his t-shirt up over his nose.Sam was trying to keep her lips closed tightly so she wouldn't breathe the stench in through her mouth. She quickly covered her nose and mouth with her cupped hand. It was all she could do to keep her breakfast from reappearing.Jack had smelled a lot of disgusting odors in his day but this definitely without a doubt had them all beat. "The MALP didn't tell us this planet was stinky. Did it Major?"Major Carter hated worse than anything to have to answer because that would mean opening her mouth. Just the thought of getting that stench inside her mouth made the bile burn in the back of her throat. She kept her lips pressed tightly together and answered with a throaty negative, "Uh uh."Jack looked at her quizzically. "What was that Major?"She shook her head from side to side in a negative answer but saw that he had already turned his head in the other direction. She glared at the Colonel. He was just gonna keep on until she breathed in a mouthful of the rank odor surrounding them. "Carter?" he repeated as he looked around the vicinity of the gate platform."No, sir." She answered and then immediately screwed up her face. Oh man, she knew it. Now she could taste it. She flashed a brief glare at her CO then turned to look at Teal'c and Daniel. She stared at Daniel and became concerned when his face started taking on a definite reddish hue. She stepped over to him and saw his eyes were squeezed shut. She placed her hand on his arm. "Daniel?"He jumped at the unexpected touch and his eyes popped open along with his mouth. "Sam! Jeez!" He was almost gasping for breath. "Oh gross!" He said irritably as his face twisted into a grimace. "Great!" "Daniel, are you all right?" she asked."I was. Sort of. I guess.... I'm not now.""Were you holding your breath?" She asked incredulously, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice."You got a better idea?" He pulled the bandana out of his vest and pressed it over his nose but it was too late. He turned his back to her as his stomach rebelled. After a few dry heaves he straightened up and took offered canteen from her. He took a sip and swished it around before spitting it out on the ground. This is one day he was thankful he hadn't bothered to eat.Jack stepped closer to Daniel and laid a hand on the top of his shoulder, grinning mischievously."Daniel. You know, you can only hold your breath for so long before you pass out?" Jack was really proud of himself. He'd kept the urge to laugh at bay which was more than he could say about his 2IC. She had turned her back on them and he could tell by the way her shoulders shook that she was doing a lousy job of controlling her muffled laughter.Daniel took another mouthful of water from the canteen, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and sniffed the fabric. Had that stench already saturated his clothing or was it simply that it was so thick in the air, in his mouth, his nose, his lungs that it's all he could smell now? He glared at Jack, then pulled a peppermint out of his pocket, unwrapped it and shoved it into his mouth before rolling the wrapper into a tiny ball and flicking it at Jack, smiling.Jack turned to look at the M.A.L.P. "Daniel, you might as well send this useless hunk of junk back home." He wondering briefly if odors could travel through a wormhole and whether the gateroom would be getting a nice little present in a few minutes.Sam had heard the Colonel's disdain for the MALP whenever they seemed to run into angry natives which the MALP had not detected. But it was only a machine doing what it was programmed to do."The MALP isn't programmed to detect odors, sir. It's only capable of detecting temperature, seismic activity, analyzing oxygen and other gases, sir." She coughed, tasting the stench of the planet coming back up from her lungs and glanced down again at the MALP. After this even she had to admit the probe was long overdue for some improvements."O'Neill. Something approaches." Teal'c pointed in the distance. "There." The rest of the team looked in that direction at a distant cloud of dust slowly making its way towards them.Jack pulled out his binoculars then Sam got hers out of her pocket as they focused on who or what was heading in their direction at break neck speed."What is it, Jack?" Daniel squinted trying to make out what it was.Jack watched the advancing dust cloud for a minute trying to determine any potential danger."Daniel, dial it up and let General Hammond know we might be back in a hurry, and send the MALP back through." Jack couldn't make out just what it was that was coming at them in an awfully big hurry but he was getting more and more edgy by the second."What do you think, Major?" He asked as he continued to watch through his binoculars."I don't know, sir. It looks like it could be some sort of large animal. It doesn't look human to me."Jack had one hand holding the binoculars and his other hand was squeezing his P-90 as he watched whatever it was steadily approach. It was still far enough away that they weren't in immediate danger but it appeared to be picking up speed. The dust cleared around the unknown object for a few seconds, just long enough for him to make out a shape. "Crap! Get that MALP through now, Daniel!""Are you seeing what I'm seeing, sir?" Sam lowered the binoculars to get a better idea of how close the giant creatures were. What she saw was several more of what appeared to be gigantic bugs advancing from several more directions. She'd seen a lot of strange sites on their missions, but this was right up there at the top of her list of the most unusual.Daniel watched the MALP disappear through the wormhole then turned and looked in the distance as what looked like hundreds of huge alien insects running viciously toward them.Daniel's eyes were beginning to water. "Is that smell actually getting worse?"Colonel O'Neill had seen enough, they were so out of here. "Okay, everybody back home."~^~^~^~General Hammond had automatically called for a medical team when SG-1's code came through only minutes after going through the Gate. He was relieved but puzzled when all four of them appeared, upright, and in one piece looking as healthy as they had when they'd left. He met Colonel O'Neill at the end of the ramp."Report, Colonel ?""It seems the planet has a bit of a bug problem, General."General Hammond looked at the other members of SG-1. They looked a little green around the gills but they didn't add any details. He looked back at the Colonel. "Explanation, Colonel?" He asked as he caught a whiff of a horrendous smell and he absently rubbed at his nose."The planet has big, huge, gigantic bugs, General. Mean looking bugs. Carter was actually speechless. Weren't you Major?" Jack saw the General's nose start to scrunch. "Oh, and it stinks, sir. Really, really, ...really bad." He said grinning. "Permission to go... burn my clothes, sir." ~^~^~^~Daniel and Sam walked down the hall in the direction of his office discussing the planet they'd just visited, all be it, very briefly."I must have washed my hair at least a half dozen times and I swear, Daniel, I can still smell that place on me. I'm glad I don't have a date or anything tonight.""Why do you think it smelled so bad?" Daniel asked, then grinned and added, "the planet, not your hair." "Who knows?" Sam answered. "They could be an alien form of stinkbug for all we know. You know, I've heard the government has been experimenting for years trying to develop a malodor, a really offensive odor, to use as a non-lethal weapon or a crime fighting tool.""I thought stinkbugs only smelled bad if you squashed one."They reached Daniel's office and he opened the door and stepped inside.She laughed as she followed him inside. "The stinkbug thing was just an example, Daniel. But we are talking 'alien' bugs here. Maybe they stink all the time. If it's purpose was to make people stay away then they certainly accomplished that." She followed him over to the coffee maker. "Maybe the government should find out how to contain and control the odor on that planet and use that for a weapon." She added, snickering."Want a cup?" He asked as he motioned to the extra mugs."No thanks. I've got to get back to my lab. Maybe we shouldn't suggest to anyone about the 'malodor' weapon potential of that planet, though. Knowing our luck, we'd be the ones who would have to go back.""My lips are sealed." Daniel made a zipping motion across his mouth. Sam chuckled. "Sealed as in 'no air reaching your lungs while you're holding your breath' sealed?""Ha. Ha." Daniel had been holding his breath, but not closing his ears. He'd heard the conversation between her and Jack while he was trying to keep from breathing in that stench. "No, sealed as in 'trying to answer your commanding officer with your lips glued shut' sealed." She playfully smacked his arm and glanced over at the worktable. "Wow. Looks like SG-9 brought back lots of goodies for you to look at." Daniel set the mug down and walked over to the table. He picked up a statue, turning it around in his hands. He laid it down and ran his fingers over the writings etched in the smooth, dark surface of the tablet lying there.It looked like some form of trinium, except that this was much blacker. He glanced over at Sam unsure whether he had said that aloud or not, then his attention was drawn to another artifact.He picked up the ornate box, surprised that it was not nearly as heavy as he thought it should have been. The box was about twelve inches square and four inches tall. The top had writings written in an oval shape. And at first glance they were similar if not exactly the same language as those on the tablet. He ran his fingers over the intricate carvings. Sgt. McCleary had sent pictures of some of the artifacts they'd accidentally stumbled upon on their last mission. As soon as he'd seen the photos and some of the footage they had shot in the buildings, he'd implored General Hammond to permit SG-9 to bring back as many specimens of this ancient culture as possible. When Daniel had recognized the writing as similar to that he'd seen on Ernest's Planet he'd been waiting anxiously to see them. Now that he was actually holding them in his hands he was awestruck. Sam stepped closer trying to see what had him so captivated. "What is it Daniel?""Oh. Uh. It's a box, Sam" He answered, never taking his eyes off the treasure from the past he held in his hands.She looked at him and grinned. "Have fun." She patted his shoulder and walked out of the room, stopping at the doorway. She turned around and looked back at him as he laid the box down and picked up the tablet taking it over to his worktable. He sat down on the tall stool and laid the artifact down carefully on a cloth and began studying the writings with a magnifying glass. She smiled at the familiar sight. This is one thing she had missed so much when Daniel had been ascended. Grinning to herself, she stepped out into the corridor to head for her lab.~^~^~^~Daniel had been diligently transferring the writings to paper for hours. He laid the magnifying glass and pencil down and rubbed at his tired eyes. He stood up, holding his arms above his head, stretching his stiff muscles. He was excited about the artifacts SG-9 had brought back. It was one of the rare opportunities he'd had to study the languages of the original four races. He looked down at his watch. Only 8:00? It seemed liked he'd been at it a lot longer than that. As he stared at the watch he noticed the seconds were not changing. He tapped the face with his finger then held it to his ear. Time for a new watch evidently. He took the useless watch off and put it in the drawer. Maybe he could get by with just getting a new battery for it. He looked up at the clock on the wall. 3:35? ...In the morning? No way. That couldn't be right. Could it? Well, it was no wonder he was stiff from sitting so long. He glanced down at the tablet trying to decide whether to go on home or work a little longer. He ran his fingers along the grooves of the carvings. He was always in awe of pieces of the past that had survived thousands, even millions of years. And who knows how long he would have the artifacts before they were shipped off to Area 51.Decision made, he stepped over to the coffee maker and poured the remainder into his mug then started a new pot. He took a long sip then set his mug down on the table. He pushed the cloth wrapped tablet to the side and picked up the box. The box was unusual in that it was too large to have just been a collection of writings like the tablet. There were no buttons or openings that he could see. The language covering the box appeared to be similar to that on the ancient tablet. He was intrigued as to why a planet that had at least for a short time been inhabited by such an advanced race was now deserted. He was hoping the artifacts would shed some light on the mystery. Picking up the magnifying glass and pencil he went back to work. The writings on top were written, going around in an oval shape. He could make out a few of the words from what he'd studied from the many diaries Ernest had kept and from the time the knowledge of the Ancients had been downloaded into Jack's brain. And some of the words he...well, just knew. Possibly souvenirs from Oma.He turned it over to see if anything was written there, too. There were symbols but they were different somehow. He flipped it back and forth a few times to compare the two. That was odd. Evidently it was the same language, actually it looked like they might be the exact same words on both sides except those underneath were a mirrored version of the writings on top.He turned it back over and as he did the box shifted and slipped from his fingers, dropping onto the cloth. He heard a faint 'click', and a hidden seam along the top of the box popped open.Daniel jumped up and flung his hands out away from the box and stared at it, waiting to see if anything else unexpected was going to happen. After a minute he sat back down on the stool and picked up a pencil, slipping it into the newly opened seam as he tried to pry it up to look inside.He lifted one side up and opened it the rest of the way. Looking inside, he saw a partial reflection of himself staring back. He opened the other half of the lid and looked down at an oval mirror set in a narrow frame surrounded by alien writing.He reached in and picked it up. The reflective surface had the appearance of being almost liquid. As he looked at his reflection it was hypnotizing. It felt almost as if he could drown in the mirror's liquid pool if he looked at it for very long. As he stared into the mirror a wave of vertigo swept over him. He tore his eyes away to shake off the feeling of disassociation, and turned the mirror over to see if there were any writings on the back. The frame began to feel warmer in his hands and his eyes began to grow heavy with needed sleep. He laid the mirror back in the box and closed his eyes as he lay his head down and fell into a deep sleep.~^~^~^~"Carter, have you seen Daniel?" Jack had called him several times the night before with no luck. She slowed her stride to let him catch up with her. "No, I haven't, sir.""He did go home last night, didn't he?""I don't know. He got some artifacts SG-9 brought back from P4X-929 to study and he was pretty wrapped up in them when I left him in his office yesterday."They walked down the corridor toward Daniel's office and when they reached the closed door they stopped and listened.Jack turned the knob and they peered inside. Daniel was sound asleep with his head down on the table. "Just as I thought. Burned the midnight oil again." He said quietly.Sam looked at Jack and grinned. "Not really surprised, are you, sir?""No Carter.""You're not going to wake him are you?"Jack stared at the sleeping man and looked at her. "If I wake him up now he'll just start working on those rocks again, won't he?"She grinned. "Most likely, sir."Jack pulled the door closed carefully. He looked down at his watch."The briefing isn't for a few more hours. Maybe since he's getting some sleep he'll actually be on time."She grinned and chuckled before turning to go. "We can always hope, sir."~^~^~^~ General Hammond strode into the afternoon briefing where SG-1 was scheduled to discuss their next mission. His eyes searched the room as he walked up to the table."Where's Dr. Jackson?"Jack and Sam exchanged glances, each knowing that their absent archaeologist was probably still caught up in studying the artifacts brought back by SG-9. Or still asleep."General. Maybe I should hunt him down and drag his scrawny civilian behind, to the briefing, sir?"General Hammond hid a grin as he listened to Colonel O'Neill. "I guess you'd better, Colonel. We'll postpone the briefing for one hour." He turned and walked back to his office, shaking his head and grinning.Jack, Sam, and Teal'c stood up. "Do you want me to come with you sir?" Sam knew Jack had a lot of patience for Daniel's obsessive fascination with artifacts, but she also knew her commanding officer didn't like it when a briefing had to be rescheduled. So if she didn't sound enthusiastic to join him in his retrieval of Daniel... it was because she wasn't."No, I'll take care of it, Major." Jack turned and walked out of the briefing room on a mission to extract one very absent archaeologist.~^~^~^~The flash of a weapon blast shot out toward him and Daniel jerked himself awake. His arm flung out, knocking the empty mug off the table and it shattered onto the floor. His eyes darted around the room, confused momentarily as to where he was. His heart was pounding in his chest and his brain felt like he'd had some of Janet's mind numbing pain killers. Jeez, what a dream.He remembered working on the translations but he couldn't recall when he'd fallen asleep. The few hours he had slept though, had been anything but restful, as bizarre dreams played over and over in his mind. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands trying to force his eyes to focus a little better, feeling lines and creases along the side of his face. He looked down at the half-opened ornate box holding the mirror. He picked it up looking at his reflection staring back at him. Running his hand along his face, he had evidently fallen asleep on the closed top half of the box because he had impressions of the carvings along one side of his face.He laid the mirror back inside, slipping part of the cloth it had been lying on, inside one of the seams before he closed it the rest of the way. He remembered it slipping out of his hands so maybe it had opened then, he thought. Everything was so fuzzy. He looked down at his wrist, then remembered his watch had quit the day before. Squinting up at the clock on the wall, he picked up his glasses, slipped them on and looked again.// Oh crap! // He was late for the briefing. Again. Jack was gonna have a fit. He jumped up and rushed to the door as fragments of the shattered cup crunched under his boots. He yanked the door open and ran right into Jack almost knocking them both down."Whoa there. Where's the fire?" Jack grabbed Daniel's shoulders and steadied him."Sorry Jack." Daniel straightened his glasses and backed up."You missed the briefing." Jack started to make a sarcastic remark since he'd come all the way up here to chew someone out, but stopped himself as he studied the haggard appearance of the man before him. "You feelin okay? You look terrible.""Gee. Thanks, Jack."Daniel turned around and walked back into his office over to the coffee maker but saw it was empty.He busied himself with making another pot, then stood with his back to Jack waiting nervously for the inevitable speech about punctuality. Daniel waited a few moments, not hearing the expected lecture, but feeling eyes boring into the back of his head."General Hammond is angry."It was a question and a statement. He didn't dare turn around to meet Jack's eyes for fear that he would see the irritation on his face that he knew he had every right to see there. Remembering the shattered cup littering the floor, he turned around, dragging the wastebasket over and knelt down picking up pieces of ceramic and dropping them in. Jack continued to watch then stepped around so he could see Daniel's face. "He wasn't happy about it. Neither am I. He postponed it for an hour. Think you can manage to make it to that one?"Daniel picked up as much of the remnants as he could by hand and stood up, stepping over to the freshly brewed coffee. He picked up an old cup from the shelf, peering inside it, then wiped it out with a napkin. He slowly filled the cup, cringing at Jack's words, but knowing that it could have been a lot worse. "Yeah, I..uh..I'm really sorry, Jack. I'll go grab a shower and get woke up. I'll be there on time. I promise." He quickly walked out of his office with his coffee in one hand.~^~^~^~Daniel turned off the shower and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist. He pulled another one off the rack and rubbed it briskly over his hair as he walked out to his locker. That's all he'd needed. Just some caffeine and a cold shower and he felt like a new man. All be it a very chilly, somewhat fidgety, new man.He finished drying off and opened his locker. He quickly dressed in his BDU's and sat down on the bench shoving his feet in his boots. Suddenly the room shifted sideways as he steadied himself, holding onto the edge of the wood. Concentrating on keeping his eyes open, he stared across the room trying to focus on something solid and unmovable, hoping it would stop the rest of the world from tilting. A few minutes passed and he felt like he was on solid ground again. He wiped the beads of sweat out of his eyes. How could he be sweating when he still had goosebumps from the shower? He bent down to tie his boots and noticed his hands were shaking. Holding his hands out in front of him, he stared at them, clenching and unclenching them a few times. Nervous energy was buzzing through his fingers and it was really uncomfortable. Squeezing his hands into fists and releasing them didn't help. He wiped his moist palms on his pants and finished tying his boots. Maybe cold showers and too much coffee first thing when you wake up wasn't such a good idea after all, he thought.~^~^~^~The mission was supposed to be short and sweet. Retrieval of a downed UAV. Which everyone knew was one of Jack's most favorite things to do. Right up there with cleaning the refrigerator after he'd been gone on an unexpectedly long mission that lasted longer than his expiration dates. That and scraping bird droppings off his shiny just waxed truck. After walking almost five hours following the locator beacon, they discovered the downed UAV lodged in a big pool of thick mud.Jack stepped up to the edge of a large pit filled with a thick slippery looking substance. It didn't appear to be over three or four feet deep and there were buzzing insects flitting around, landing occasionally on the thick surface. He stood staring out at the slime with his arms crossed for a moment then he rested one arm on his P-90 and waved his other hand in the direction of the downed bird. "Well, Major. She's all yours.""Sir?"Colonel O'Neill turned around and stepped over to a nearby boulder and sat down. He looked up at his 2IC who was still staring at him. He cocked his head and looked at her through his dark sunglasses. "Why are we here, Major?"Sam looked questioningly at her other teammates and back to her CO. "To retrieve the UAV, sir.""And why, exactly, do we need to do that?"She wasn't sure where he was going with the odd questions but she'd play along. "To study the data it recorded before it went down, Colonel. The readings it took on this planet could be valuable.""And who, here... raise your hands...is going to be studying it?" He glanced briefly at Teal'c and Daniel then his gaze finally settled on his 2IC.She looked around at her team mates making a mental note to kill Daniel who was trying his best to stifle a laugh. And as for Teal'c, well, she could tell he was stifling a laugh, too, somewhere under that stony exterior. She slipped her hand up and then down quickly, not knowing if he was serious or not about the hand raising request. "That would be me, sir."Jack then motioned again with his hand toward the UAV about four yards from the edge of the mud slop and nodded at her as if to say, "It's your toy, you go get it." She unbuckled her P-90 as she continued to glance around not seeing anyone else preparing to help. She laid it and her backpack on the ground. She wondered if this perhaps had anything to do with the fact that the last UAV SG-1 had retrieved had become a temporary home for a swarm of alien bees. It wasn't her fault that they evidently preferred the human male species since she was the only one who wasn't stung repeatedly. Okay. She guessed this was their way of getting revenge. She looked out at the crippled craft determined to show them she wasn't stooping to their level.Taking the rope out of her pack, she made a loop at one end and started tossing it out, trying to snag the wing sticking up out of the thick brown sludge. She finally hooked it on the umpteenth try, tossing a triumphant glance at her team mates, and started tugging at it to dislodge it. "Way to go, Sam." Daniel told her, very impressed.Jack couldn't help but laugh. "Well well. Cowgirl Carter. Where did you learn to lasso like that? I thought you were a city girl."She ignored the Daniel was overcome with guilt and walked over beside her. "Need some help, Sam?"She glared at him and stubbornly turned her attention back to the UAV, and kept pulling. "No thank you Daniel. I think I can manage by myself." She tugged and tugged and realizing it had evidently gotten caught on one of the downed limbs in the mud pool, she readjusted her grip and prepared to yank it loose. She silently counted to three and yanked with all her might. It came up out of the mud with a slurping sound and landed with a thud right in front of her right after she had lost her footing and fallen on her backside. The thick slimy mud covering the UAV was slung off the fiberglass body of the craft and spattered everywhere.She could hardly see through her tear filled eyes she was laughing so hard as Jack, Daniel and Teal'c stood staring at her with stunned mud covered faces. ~^~^~^~Sam was the last one back to the campsite. At least she'd been nice enough to let the men get cleaned up in the stream first. Of course they had twice as mud on them than she did so it was the least she could do. Now as they all gathered around the campfire heating up their MRE's and drinking coffee, the atmosphere was relaxed. They had all gotten a good laugh from the mud slinging incident although she was definitely going to be watching her back for a while just in case any of them tried to get even. Maybe she could convince General Hammond that SG-1 should probably not be assigned any "retrieval of scientific equipment" missions for awhile.She grinned to herself then looked around the campfire noticing someone missing. "Where's Daniel?"Jack motioned back toward one of the tents. "The kid looked like crap, even Teal'cs unique coffee wasn't keeping him awake. I told him to go get some sleep before he fell off his log asleep into the fire. And before you say it, Carter, yes I made him eat......sort of."She stared at him not saying a word.Colonel O'Neill finally looked up at the eyes he could feel boring into him. "All right. He talked me into letting him take his MRE back to his tent to eat..... I stepped in it behind the trees over there when I went to take a leak." Sam chuckled at the lengths Daniel would go to, to get out of eating the MRE's. Not that she could really blame him. She glanced down into the foil packet and sniffed. She stared at it then decided she wasn't that hungry herself. "Is there something wrong my calculations in the caffeine drink I prepared, O'Neill?" Teal'c inquired."No, no,no, Teal'c. Daniel likes it nice and thick like that. Doesn't he, Carter?"She glared briefly at her CO then quickly glanced down at her watch, "Wow, Look at the time. I'll take first watch, if that's all right, sir?" She was already standing up and putting away her garbage before even hearing his reply."O'Neill, I do not believe DanielJackson has left the SGC for the past two nights. Is it possible that he is burning both his candles?" Teal'c added, concern in his voice.Sam straightened up and looked at her as she suppressed a laugh. Jack briefly glanced at her with an amused expression, then with a serious voice that impressed even her he told Teal'c, "I think what you mean is "He's burning his candle at both ends" Teal'c."Teal'c raised his brow and looked at him quizzically. "One cannot burn but one side of a candle, O'Neill. As the wick on the underside would cease to stay lit.""You sure know your candles, T." Sam's thoughts turned to Daniel. She was concerned about his unhealthy nocturnal habits, of course, but she couldn't very well condemn him. She too, had pulled her share of all-nighters, although not quite to the extremes that he did on a regular basis. She tried to think back the last couple of days whether she had seen Daniel in the commissary or seen him eat anything but a power bar or two when they were off-world. She couldn't think of any. How he managed to stay lean and strong was beyond her. Maybe he was one of those people who, totally unaware, ate while they were asleep. She chuckled to herself deciding that that theory wasn't possible since to sleepwalk one would actually have to... sleep. ~^~^~^~Jack liked to take the last watch. That way he wouldn't be so groggy when they had to break camp and head out early in the mornings. And for some reason right before dawn was usually the time when "undetected life forms" liked to hit their camp. The temperature on the planet had been at least up in the 70's when they'd arrived but it had cooled off considerably during the night. It was odd how different the planets could be, with the exception of trees, of course. On earth he would be hearing the usual night sounds of crickets and tree frogs, maybe a wild coyote or an owl. But here it was silent. The only sound was the crackling of the wood as it burned in the middle of their campsite and what sounded like his 2IC softly snoring from her tent. She never did believe him when he told her she snored. One of these missions he was gonna borrow Daniel's digital recorder.The heat from the fire felt good against the chilly night air. There was something about a crackling fire that made you feel warm even when you were covered in goose bumps from head to toe. One of the reasons he'd built a fireplace in the family room of his house was the way a cozy fire was one of the few things that actually helped him relax. Suddenly a blood-curdling scream broke through the night. He jumped to his feet, his hands tightening around his weapon. Sam and Teal'c came rushing out of their tents stumbling to their feet just as another scream filled the air. They all realized at the same moment where the scream had originated from. Jack rushed over to Daniel's tent and yanked the flap aside. He slipped inside on his knees beside Daniel's sleeping bag and watched as the young man yelled something in some language Jack couldn't possibly understand. He yelled out again and swung his arms at an unseen threat. Jack ducked just in time then quickly grabbed his flaying wrists and pinned them to the ground as he knelt over him."Daniel! Wake up!" Another stream of unintelligible words filled the tent as he turned his head from side to side struggling to get loose from Jack's grasp, his eyes open but unfocused."Crap! Daniel wake up!" It was all he could do to hold him down. "Teal'c! Get in here!"Quickly the large man slipped in beside Jack, seeing DanielJackson trying to wrestle out of Jack's grip. "How may I assist, O'Neill?"One of Daniel's arms broke free and just missed Jack's head. "I don't know. Slap him or something."Teal'c raised a brow and looked questioningly at Jack. "Are you requesting that I physically assault DanielJackson?"More moans and garbled words filled the small space. "You got a better idea Teal'c?" Daniel's arm swung out wildly knocking the flashlight out of Teal'cs hand and it rolled casting flickering shadows in the confined space. Teal'c looked down at his terror-stricken friend, paused, then his booming voice filled the tent. "DANIELJACKSON, YOU MUST AWAKEN!"Daniel bolted upright, knocking Jack backwards, as he looked around frantically. "Crap, Daniel! What was that?" Jack felt around for the flashlight trying to keep his eyes on Daniel. He finally located it and pointed it at him. He started to speak but stopped when he saw Daniel, his knees drawn up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them, shaking all over.Jack glanced at Teal'c and they exchanged puzzled looks. Teal'c tilted his head to the side and raised his brow and Jack shrugged his shoulders. Neither one knew how best to handle the incident they had just witnessed. Jack motioned for Teal'c to wait outside. He nodded and slipped out of the tent, lowering the flap behind him.Jack watched helplessly as Daniel continued trembling. Whether it was from the cold or fear, maybe a little of both, he couldn't tell. He scooted over beside him. He'd seen him have nightmares before but this was a doozy. If Daniel had only yelled out words in English instead of who-knows-what language, maybe he would have a clue as to what had triggered the latest scarefest.Jack laid his hand on Daniel's shoulder feeling the body still trembling beneath his fingers."Daniel?""I'm fine, Jack." His muffled shaky voice could barely be heard."Right."After a few moments Daniel turned away and slid back down into his sleeping bag, wrapping it around him.The silence became more and more uncomfortable as Jack gently lay his hand on the sleeping bag covering his still trembling friend. The occasional quivers slowed steadily until the shaking ceased. He didn't know whether to press the issue or let it go until morning, which, as he looked at his watch, was not far off. He rubbed his hand over his face. All of a sudden he felt worn out. "Daniel?"The sound of Daniel's breathing was slow and steady as quiet snores began to fill the tent. Jack crawled over to the tent opening and stood up taking one last look before he closed the flap.What a night. Or rather morning. He looked over at the fire and saw his other two team mates staring questioningly at him as they sat with their sleeping bags wrapped around their shoulders drinking what smelled like coffee. He adjusted the brim of his cap and gripped his P-90."He's asleep. I'll check the perimeter.......We'll pack it up when I get back and head home."~^~^~^~Dr. Frasier pumped up the blood pressure cuff once again and slowly let the air out as she listened intently. Once it was done she ripped the Velcro cuff apart and folded it, laying it down on the gurney as she kept an eye on her patient."Your blood pressure's a little high, Daniel. Anything happen on the planet that I should know about?""No. Not unless you mean something like Sam throwing mud all over us." Daniel replied, hoping his teammates hadn't mentioned to her his bad dreams.Janet grinned. She had already heard three different versions of the UAV story."Well, that's not exactly what I meant. I was thinking more on the lines of something stressful that might have affected your blood pressure." "Well, if you'd seen the look Jack gave Sam after that mud hit him..."Daniel stopped when he realized his attempt to draw the subject away from himself wasn't working.Janet stood there, staring at Daniel with her 'I'm-not-buyin-it' look and just waited while Daniel squirmed."Uh. Sorry. Let's see, stressful?...Nope. I can't think anything...Can I go now?" He started to move to the edge of the gurney but was stopped by Janet's hand on his arm.She liked to think she could read SG-1 pretty well by now, and something about Daniel was just not quite right, although she couldn't seem to put her finger on it. He was a little too fidgety. Even for Daniel."When is your next mission?""Tomorrow afternoon. That's when it's daylight on PRY-849.""I'll check it again tomorrow, then. If you notice anything unusual before then I expect you back here and get it checked out.""Sure." Daniel hopped off the table, glad to finally get back to his office.She watched him rush out of the infirmary.~^~^~^~Sam walked into the commissary and picked up some fruit salad and a muffin before heading over to the coffee machine that ran 24 hours a day here. She saw Colonel O'Neill sitting by himself and he nodded to her. She took her coffee and snacks over to his table and sat down across from him."Sir.""Carter.""Where's Daniel and Teal'c?"Jack swallowed the bite of peach pie before he spoke. "Teal'c is helping Siler move some things to get ready for the big gate overhaul. Daniel should be finished with Frasier by now but I haven't seen him since I left him in the infirmary. He's probably holed up in his office again."Neither one of them had brought up the incident with Daniel on the planet and she wasn't sure if she should now. The walk back to the Stargate had been filled with forced words and uncomfortable silences. "Do you think they'll have the gate put back together by the time we get back from our seven-days of downtime?" Jack asked."Well, they've been getting things prepared for weeks so that any delays should be minimal. There's no reason why the new iris shouldn't be in place in the time allowed. The crew doing the maintenance on the gate system can work concurrently with the crew replacing the iris. They're going to be working around the clock, so, yes sir, to answer your question, it should be finished well before we get back."Sam took a bite of her muffin and looked around the room as she washed it down with her coffee. She looked back at her CO across the table from her. "What are your plans for the week the gate is down, sir?" Jack stared down into his coffee cup. "I'm going to the cabin. Not to fish though. The roof needs fixed before cold weather sets in." He looked up to meet her gaze. "And you, Major? Big plans?""Not really 'big'. I haven't seen my two nieces in ages and since I now have a nephew as of two months ago, I'm anxious to do my 'Aunt Sam' thing." She grinned and lowered her eyes. She had thought about sticking around the base and watching the repairs but had decided to get away for a few days instead.Jack stood up and took his jacket off the back of the chair and put it on. "Well, I'm gonna head on home. I'll see you at the briefing tomorrow. And if you see Daniel before you leave tell him to go home." ~^~^~^~Daniel strode quickly to the elevator and punched the button several times waiting impatiently for it to reach his floor. His fingers tapped nervously against the wall. That was the last time he was answering his office phone until he was finished translating the artifacts. If anyone needed him they'd just have to take a number and wait till he had time. He'd been back in his office barely an hour when the phone started ringing off the wall, or rather off his desk. He was finally beginning to make some progress in the translations and it seemed that this was the day that everyone needed him to read something or explain something. How could he get any work done with all these interruptions?The doors finally opened and he glanced briefly at the airman who stepped out as he rushed in. He hit the button for his floor, leaning back against the wall as it ascended floor by floor, wiping the sweat from his face. For some reason he had been too warm ever since he'd come back from their mission this morning. A headache was beginning to settle around his temples, too, and he let his head rest back against the cool steel surface and closed his eyes. <<DANIEL >>As soon as he heard his name echo around him he jumped, his breath catching, as his eyes darted around the small space, already knowing that no one could possibly be there. He watched uneasily as the numbers ascended slowly one by one and he gripped the wall bar with sweaty palms.The doors finally slid open and he rushed out of the elevator glancing back a few times as he hurriedly made his way down the corridor to his office. He stepped inside and quickly closed the door, locking it behind him. He pressed his back against the door as his eyes darted around the office, and listened as his heart pounded in his ears. He ran a shaky hand through his sweat dampened hair and tried to slow down his breathing before his heart pounded out of his chest.// Jeez. What's the matter with me? //He walked over to the coffee maker and poured the leftover cold coffee into his mug with shaking hands and zapped it in the microwave while he started a new pot. He sat down at the table of artifacts he'd been working on. His attention was drawn to the mirror once again and he sat the cup down and lifted the frame up to examine it closer. He'd already translated a small part of the inscriptions on it and on the tablet.<<<DANIEL >>>He jumped, almost dropping the mirror, and looked nervously around the room. He squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. The headache was getting worse. Grabbing the bottle on his desk he shook a couple of aspirin out in his hand and swallowed them. // Get a grip, Daniel. //He laid the mirror down and stepped over to the coffee maker, filling his cup the rest of the way. He held the cup in both hands letting it warm his chilled fingers, still glancing around nervously. It was strange how one minute he seemed hot and the next he was freezing. Walking over to his computer he sat down to check through the notes he had compiled about Ernest's planet. Hopefully if he focused on the translations again it would help calm his frayed nerves. Assuming he didn't have any more interruptions to break his concentration, that is. He glanced over at the phone, then reached over and turned off the ringer.~^~^~^~Daniel struggled to focus. The sound of the alarm clock screamed at him through the fog saturating his brain. He had made sure and set the alarm on his desk just in case he fell asleep in his office again. Which, of course, he had. Their next mission wasn't scheduled until shortly after noon but the briefing would start in just a little over an hour and he wasn't going to be late again.He finally lifted his head up and squinted around the dimly lit room with one eye. He rubbed his eyes and looked down at his wrist before remembering he still hadn't bought a new battery for his watch. After a pot of coffee he might be able to get both eyes to stay open. After two pots he might even be able to get his legs to work, too.He had stayed up until almost 4:00 in the morning. That was the last time he remembered checking the time anyway. He hadn't slept but a few hours but his sleep was still filled with bizarre dreams.After starting the coffee, he picked up the notes he had scribbled sometime during the night. Looking them over while the coffee brewed, for some reason he didn't remember writing some of them and yet it was his handwriting.The further he got with the translations the more excited he became. The ancient tablet told of a device, possibly a weapon, at the very least a deterrent, to fight the Goa'uld. From what he could determine so far, the device, whatever it was, actually was intended as a tool to keep the Goa'uld away from the meeting places on the planets where the Asgard, the Nox, the Ancients, and the Furlings would gather. But for some reason they'd abandoned that plan and altered the technology to develop the weapon described on the tablet. All he had to figure out now was what the device was, where it might be located, how it worked, and why they gave up on it...Sure...piece of cake.He stepped over and filled his cup, looking up at the clock on the wall. He figured he had time to shower and hopefully get a lot more awake before the briefing. ~^~^~^~Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter met at the door to the briefing room. They walked in and nodded to Teal'c who had already taken his usual seat at the long table. It wasn't until they'd gotten closer that they noticed Daniel was already there, with his head down, resting on his hands that were folded on the table in front of him. They looked at each other, surprised to see Daniel early for a change. They took their seats to wait for General Hammond. Major Carter, who was seated next to Daniel reached over and lay her hand on his back whispering his name."Daniel?" She said softly as she tried to wake him before the General came in. She leaned closer and squeezed his arm. "Daniel?"His head popped up and he looked around at the faces staring back at him. He rubbed his eyes with his palms and put his glasses on, sneaking another glance at his teammates who were still watching him.Jack leaned forward to the man seated across from him, studying the dark circles and sheen of perspiration covering his face. "Don't tell me you slept on the base again last night.""Okay... I won't." He picked up the cup in front of him on the table, took a sip and made a face at the cold bitter brew. "Daniel?" "Jack?""You do realize you have a house to go to now, right?"Daniel looked blearily at Jack and rolled his eyes. "Gee. I'd forgotten that, Jack. Thanks for reminding me." "Did we not sleep well last night, Daniel?" Jack leaned back in his chair keeping his eyes focused across the table."WE?" Daniel stared at Jack. "I slept fine. I wouldn't have a clue as to how well YOU slept though." The last thing he was in the mood for was Jack's twenty-questions this early in the day. At least he guessed it was early. He seemed to be losing track of time without a watch. And for some reason he was having a bad streak of luck in that department lately."I'm here early, Jack. I thought you'd be pleased.""Oh I'm pleased as punch, Daniel."General Hammond strode into the room interrupting any more discussion as they got down to business discussing the next mission just hours away.~^~^~^~Dr. Frasier looked over the chart once again, re-checking the numbers. She looked up at Daniel who was waiting for clearance to go get suited up for the mission. She realized it was the last mission SG-1 or any of the SGC teams would be on for another week, but it didn't hurt to be cautious.His blood pressure was still higher than normal for him. Not anything alarming, just elevated. But what had her concerned was the five pounds he'd lost since she had seen him two days ago. Of course she realized he could have been leaning a little too much to one side on the scales or had something in his pockets two days ago that he didn't have now, for all she knew. Although he acted almost jumpy she assumed it was nervous energy due to a lack of proper sleep. The dark circles under his eyes told her more than she would have gotten from direct questions, she was sure of that. Not enough reason to ground him, but enough reason to keep an eye on him.Daniel looked up as she made her way over to stand in front of him."Am I done?" He looked expectantly at her waiting for her to dismiss him so he could get ready for the mission. "If I'm late, Jack'll kill me.""You're clear to go, Daniel, but.." She held her hand up to stop him from taking off before she finished. "But I'm concerned about a few things on your tests. Did you know you've lost five pounds in the past two days?""Well...No...But what's the big deal?""Probably nothing, maybe something. Have you noticed any unusual physical symptoms lately?"He thought for a moment. He was incredibly groggy when he first woke up in the mornings, but he assumed that was due to a simple lack of sleep. Some pretty brutal headaches. Other than that he felt fine. Better than fine actually. He'd had an incredible amount of energy lately which is why he'd been able to stay awake and work on the translations for more hours that even he normally could have. The other stuff, the voices, the bad dreams. He really didn't think it would be a good idea to mention any of that right before a mission. "I feel fine, Janet. Are we done?"She stared at him. He certainly sounded okay. A little too caffeinated she would guess but that was nothing unusual for Daniel. She looked back down at his chart. Maybe she was overreacting. "All right, Daniel. But as soon as Cassie and I get back I want to do a full blood work-up on you. Promise me you'll let me know if you notice anything before then. Okay?"He jumped off the table and was half-way out the door before he stopped, turned around to answer. "Sure."~^~^~^~SG-1 stepped through the wormhole for what would be their last time for another week. All off-world teams would be returned by the following morning and the gate would be shut down so that a newer, stronger iris could be installed on the Stargate plus some long overdue maintenance."Ahhh. Smell that fresh air." Jack made a big show of taking a deep breath and patting his chest. "Yes sir. There's nothing like a visit to planet stinky to make you appreciate clean, fresh, sweet-smelling air again." Daniel stepped up beside him. "You do realize, Jack, that trees are nature's air filters. If it wasn't for all these trees, this planet might be stinky too." He just couldn't resist ribbing Jack about his aversion to the almost universal presence of trees on nearly every planet they visited. Jack pulled his sunglasses down and peered at Daniel over the lenses. "Well. Somebody seems to be feeling their old snarky self again."Sam smiled. It was good to hear her team mates joking around again. She'd been concerned about Daniel ever since his nightmare had awakened them on their last mission. The past few days he'd looked exhausted. But at other times he seemed to be bursting with energy. So she was relieved that he sounded a little more normal even if he did look like something the cat dragged in.This last mission before the gate closed for repairs was a simple one. The collection of samples- soil, water, rock and vegetation, and after an overnight stay, head back to the gate first thing in the morning. After a four mile hike from the gate they heated up some MRE's, and after a brief rest, they started to work. Teal'c stood on the highest rise of the hill watching for any unexpected dangers and assisted wherever he was needed. Sam collected samples from several of the more unusual plants. The soil, although not a possible source of Naquadah, showed properties that she was certain would keep the scientists back at the SGC buzzing for months. Jack and Daniel were busy busting rocks to bring back fragments for study.After six hours with very few breaks, they were all a tired bunch. So when Colonel O'Neill told them to call it a day he got no argument. Not even from Daniel. They sealed all the samples in the airtight packs so everything would be ready to go the following morning when they headed back to the gate.After the tents were set up, the fire lit and burning brightly, they gathered around to eat more MRE's. Daniel had eaten a few bites when the others were watching then laid it aside in favor of the coffee that he hoped would keep him awake through the night. None of his teammates had mentioned the incident a few nights ago, but he certainly didn't want to risk a repeat performance. The bizarre dreams he'd had the past few nights when he'd fallen asleep in his office had made him edgy when he got sleepy. Memories of the dreams made him fight his bodies need to sleep every night for hours until he simply dropped from exhaustion. Sam finished her meal and put the empty container in a bag to dispose of later. She looked over at Daniel who was sitting with his cup held tightly with both hands staring off in the distance deep in thought. "Daniel. Have you made any more headway with those artifacts SG-9 brought back?" He looked at her, his face blank for a few seconds, until her words registered. "Um, yeah. Actually I think it might lead us to a weapon to fight the Goa'uld." He could almost feel Jack's eyes perk up at the mention of a possible 'weapons'. The one thing that always got his attention."Daniel? Are you holding out on us?" This was the first Jack had heard about a weapon. "No Jack. I didn't really even want to tell you that much until I could get farther with the translations. But since you'll be away all next week I thought I'd throw you a bone."Jack faked a hurt surprised look "Well, if you're gonna throw me a bone, Daniel, at least give me something to chew on, will ya?""So far, all I know is that there was some kind of device that targets the Goa'uld's symbiote. I don't know what it is, where it is or even what it does yet, Jack.""Well, I guess we all know what you're gonna be doing on our week off then, huh?" Jack had asked Daniel to go with him up to his cabin but not even the promise of no fishing had persuaded him. Now he knew why. Daniel could be like a pit bull when it came to his rocks. He would probably work all week long and Jack wasn't too crazy about that. Even if it did involve cool weapons.Daniel had every intention of finding the answers about the device and the civilization who left it there, while he had some serious time off. Maybe he could actually get some work done since he wouldn't have his friends popping into his office several times a day to see if he's eaten or slept. No, this time no distractions. "What about you, Teal'c? You're going to visit your son aren't you?" Daniel asked, kind of hoping all three of his teammates would be away from the base for the next week. Teal'c could be just as motherhenish as Jack at times."You are correct, DanielJackson. I will depart shortly after we return to the SGC in the morning.""Sam? What about you? What are you doing on your time off ?" Daniel hadn't heard her say a word about her plans."I'm flying to my brother's house to do some serious spoiling of my nieces and my new nephew."Jack dumped the leftover bit of coffee out behind him and stood up stretching his tired achy back and shoulders. If he never saw another rock again it wouldn't be too soon. "Well as much as I'm enjoying this quaint little exchange of travel plans, we'd better call it a night kiddos. I want us all up, ready to head out, at first light. Teal'c, you take first watch. Carter, you're next, then Daniel. I'll take last." He turned toward his tent noticing Daniel stifling a huge yawn. He walked over and stopped beside him reaching down and patting his shoulder. "Get some sleep, huh?" ~^~^~^~Daniel had managed to stay awake throughout the night on the planet, by no small feat, and not have another nightmare. But he had to admit, he was really beginning to feel the effects of his lack of sleep by the time they got back to the gate the following morning. Even while he was taking a shower he had to make sure he didn't stand too long in one position or he would feel like he was going to doze off. He was relieved when General Hammond let them off this time without the usual post mission briefing in lieu of a written mission report before they each left the base before the end of the day.Once they'd seen Teal'c off in the gateroom, Jack had offered Sam a ride to the airport. Jack was driving to his cabin after dropping off Sam so they all said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.Janet had even reluctantly taken a few days off at Cassie's insistence. They were going up north to a concert Cassie had really been wanting to attend and they planned to shop and sightsee for several days. She had told him to check in with Dr. Warner while she was gone.Daniel felt like a kid being left home alone for the first time. The solitude that loomed ahead of him was almost intoxicating. Of course, he would miss his 'family', but even families needed time apart from one another once in awhile. He had prepared for the quiet week ahead. A stop at the store had replenished his stockpile of candy bars and coffee and he'd even splurged and bought a new watch. He went to his office, closed and locked the door and made a fresh pot of coffee. Then he settled down to work on the translations for the rest of the day, even all night if he wanted to. That thought put a smile on his face as he got out his pad of paper and pencil and anxiously went to work.~^~^~^~The next few days went by in a blur as he copied the writings on paper and researched the translations. Cross-referencing the symbols from his research took hours but he seemed to require less and less sleep. He was filled with so much nervous energy which could only be harnessed with completely focusing. Which in this case was the translation of the tablet, box and mirror. His nerves got so jumpy at times though that he would have to do sit-ups till he dropped or paced for hours until he'd worn some of the edge off and he could get back to work. That slowed his jittery nerves enough so he could focus once again on translating the artifacts. After the first day no one had come around to bug him. Since almost the entire mountain was on stand down, only those down on level 28 working on the Gate and a sparse skeleton crew were on the base.~^~^~^~The first thing he noticed when he opened his eyes was the lamp on his desk flickering, casting the room in blinking shadows. He wiped his hand across his face surprised that he was covered in sweat. He tried to push away the cobwebs in his head but it almost felt like he was drugged. It was easy to feel disoriented deep in the mountain with no natural light to help mark the passing of time. But this was more than that. A brief shiver of fear ran down his spine when for a few moments he couldn't remember what day, week or even year it was. He took a deep breath and blew it out as he looked around the room trying to gain some sense of reality.He sat up straight, sensing someone else in the room with him. He picked his glasses up with trembling hands and put them on. Even though he didn't see anyone, his heart was racing, expecting someone or some thing to jump out at him at any moment.Keeping his eyes on the flickering shadows around the room, he slowly stood up and turned on the light switch beside him on the wall. The room was flooded with bright light and he turned off the faulty desk lamp. He looked down at his watch and stared, noticing the numbers weren't flashing. Holding it out in front of him, he stared at incredulously. He couldn't believe another watch had bit the dust. He yanked it off and threw it across the room. Suddenly the light bulb in the ceiling light buzzed and he heard a 'POP', as the bulb went out, casting the room in darkness. Feeling along the length of the table his fingers found the drawer and he pulled it open and reached in feeling around for the flashlight. Once he'd found it he switched it on.He found his bottle of aspirin and shook a couple into his hand and swallowed them with the coffee he had been subsisting on for the past several days. The headaches were getting worse and he laid his head down on the desk to wait till the throbbing eased some.He sat back down wearily. After resting his eyes a few minutes, he sat up suddenly and grabbed the flashlight and aimed it at the papers littering his table. After shuffling through several he found the ones he'd been translating the mirror with. An idea had come to him. He started matching the symbols he'd translated in the order they appeared around the outer frame, laying them out on the floor in a similar oval shape. When he had finished he stood up and studied the ring of papers. Muttering to himself, slowly the pattern of the symbols started making sense, and he grabbed his notepad and started writing. If he started with the word at the top of the frame then went to the word on the other side of the frame opposite of it, then went to the word at the right of that one, then opposite again, then moved to the word to the right of that one. and so on...the string of words began to take on meaning. The message was in a pattern to avoid detection.He followed the same sequence until he reached the last symbol. As he hurriedly finished writing out what this part of the mirror said, he could feel his excitement build. He stared at the sentence he had written and read each word out loud to himself. "The eyes are a mirror to the soul."He quickly leafed through the papers lying on his desk that he had translated part of the tablet on. Finding the ones he was searching for, he read through the writings."Mirrors are the door through which death comes and goes."He stared at the mirror lying so innocently on the wooden surface in front of him. It was the mirror. The mirror was the weapon. "Mirrors are the door through which death comes and goes."It was all getting clearer to him. The writings on the tablet had told of a device that 'reflects the inner soul and destroys the evil within'. But he hadn't found the right connection between the artifacts. Until now. He skimmed through the rest of what he had written and flopped back down on the tall stool, stunned.The weapon that the tablet described, as destroying the evil within and causing death, had in fact been right here in front of him the entire time. He picked up the mirror studying it closely. How could such an innocent looking item be so deadly? What did it do? How did it work? He was so close to figuring it all out. He rubbed at his eyes and picked up the notepad and pencil again and immersed himself once more.~^~^~^~After hours and hours of writing and pacing he had discovered more than he thought possible. The warning around the outer frame was written in a language that the Goa'uld could not possibly have known. It was a warning that if a Goa'uld looked into the mirror, the symbiote within them would be targeted and die. The mirror was an innocent looking weapon that used the vanity of the Goa'uld to destroy them. The Goa'uld were an notoriously vain race and they found great pleasure in seeing their own reflections. The innocent looking mirror was the perfect weapon.He laid the papers down and looked away as sadness buried deep within him started clawing to the surface. If the device really worked....If it targeted the symbiote, much like Thor's Hammer had done, and if they'd only found the device sooner then maybe... maybe he could have saved Sha're...Skarra... Sarah.He rubbed at his tired, gritty eyes. Eyes that hadn't had nearly enough sleep for too many nights in a row and that had read far too many words. He stood up and stumbled over to the bathroom door, opened it and stepped inside flipping on the light switch. At least one light in his office still worked. He placed his hands on the edge of the small sink letting his head drop as he fought to push the memories away. He finally raised his head, seeing his reflection staring back at him made him gasp. He had not shaved, bathed, eaten, in...how many days? His sweaty hair stuck together in the front in spikes and deep dark shadows lay under his eyes that still glistened with unshed tears. He turned away to the side facing the toilet and, unbuckled and unzipped to relieve himself and when he finished and started to button his trousers, he noticed how loose the waist had become. He pulled the belt together snuggly and fastened it with trembling hands. A fleeting thought came to him that he should be concerned with his appearance or the way his body was mysteriously shrinking sizes, or other things. Things that were off kilter, screwed up, but his mind was too fuzzy to hold onto the thoughts for very long.He turned on the faucet and bent down, filling his hands with cold water and splashing it over his face. He looked back up and stared for a moment at the stranger in the mirror. Thoughts of Sha're with the symbiote inside her haunted him. Accused him. Punished him.The stranger staring back at him had not been able to save her. To save anyone he cared about. Bringing his fists up he hit the glass as hard as he could watching as the mirror cracked. The moan that filled the small room echoed all around him. His image now stared back at him multiplied by each crack in the mirror making him appear fractured and misshapen. Now instead of one pair of eyes staring back at him there were several. Staring. Taunting. He turned and walked out, shutting the door behind him. As his hand brushed the door knob it slid wetly over it. He brought his hand up and stared at the cut on the side of his hand. It almost felt as if he was looking at someone else's hand. He opened and closed his fist a few times watching the thin trail of blood run down his wrist. Blood on his hands. Sha'res blood. And so many others. He wiped his hand on his pants and stopped as he heard the doorknob to his office jiggle. He froze, not moving a muscle until he heard the sound of footsteps walking away. He couldn't let anyone in here. They would take the tablet and the mirror away and he would never know if it could have helped save Sha're. Maybe even he could still save Sarah. Picking up the mirror, the tablet, his notepad and pencils he crawled under the opening to the large desk with a flashlight to work so no one would see a light on in his office and interrupt his concentration..~^~^~^~It had taken another full day to translate the rest of the tablet. He would translate some symbols and scribble it down, but then he would forget where he had laid it and after searching through stacks of papers more times then not, he'd have to do it over again. He had gotten so frustrated at one point that he had crawled under the desk, sobbing hysterically for what seemed like hours until he had either fallen asleep or passed out. He didn't know which. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate and he feared it had something to do with the mirror. He was right. The mirror, the weapon, was slowly killing him.From what he'd been able to decipher, one of the mirrors would be sent to a Goa'uld in the ornate box under the pretense that it was a gift. Of course, the Goa'uld were suspicious of any gift so they would have one of their servants open it first to see what it was. Since the device targeted only symbiotes, the non-hosted servant would not be harmed. The Goa'uld, believing that the gift was safe, would accept it and gaze into it, ultimately sealing their own fate. But from what he could determine, the device had been found to have an unexpected detrimental effect on humans that had no symbiote in them. The Asgard or the Nox or one of the other four races had destroyed all of the mirrors they had yet to send out, except for this one. The tablet that was found with it was a record of the successes and failures of the device with warnings about the technology.He crawled out from under the desk again and stumbled to his feet, grabbing the edge of the table when dizziness threatened to put him back on the floor. He forced himself to focus until the dizziness passed. He had to stay alert until he could figure out what to do.He'd been able to hide out undetected in his office for several days by turning off the ringer on his phone so if it had rang, which he would bet it had, he wouldn't have heard it and so whomever called would assume he wasn't there. By leaving off the lights and locking the door it appeared he wasn't in his office. He had planned on studying the artifacts during his week off, but he certainly hadn't figured on hiding out to this extent. But since he'd discovered the device was harmful, it was a good thing he'd stayed somewhat reclusive.Over and over he debated whether or not to call General Hammond. But he worried that once he let the General know about the harmful artifact sitting on his desk that he would send people in to retrieve it. He wasn't willing to risk anyone else being harmed by the device. He had unknowingly opened a kind of Pandora's Box and he would do every thing in his power to insure that no one else was hurt by his mistake. The other phrases he'd translated were evidently related to each other but he couldn't pin down what they meant. "the altar of reflection heals the shattered spirit""the room where no shadows fall"What did it all mean? If he could have went to the planet himself he could have possibly made more sense out of it. Whether the cryptic writings described an actual place, he could only guess. Maybe if he could get his mind a little clearer he could find something more on one of the other artifacts that were brought back from the planet with these. But as hard as he tried he couldn't hold onto his thoughts as they drifted through his head. He ran a shaking hand through his hair. If he could just rest awhile or eat something. But any rest he'd had over the past several days hadn't been very beneficial, and any sleep he'd managed to get was filled with tormenting dreams. And he couldn't even remember the last time he'd eaten. He had no desire for food. Any hunger he'd had ceased days ago.Jack would know what to do. Wouldn't he? If not, definitely Sam. He just knew she could figure it out...But they were gone and wouldn't be back for days. At least he was pretty sure it was days. He'd completely lost track of time since he'd hidden himself away in his office to study the artifacts. But even if Jack and Sam were here, he couldn't let them in and risk putting them in danger. Frustrated, he tossed the pencil on the table as he sat down tiredly on the stool and flipped off the flashlight. The artificial light from the brightly lit hallway filtered through the plastic insert in the door casting his office in deep shadows. By the increasing sounds coming from the corridor it must be morning with a new shift coming in. There were actually a lot more footsteps and voices than he had been hearing for the past several days. Could it be that he had been here in his office for the entire week and the base was once again filling with people? Had it only been one week? It felt like forever. He rubbed his eyes tiredly with his palms and grimaced when he brushed against the cuts on the sides of his hands. Something was definitely happening to him. Something bad. The device was distorting his mind. And, looking down at the loose fitting clothes and trembling hands, it was doing something to his body as well. He glanced at the door to his office. He had to make sure no one came near the device. At least he could save somebody, he thought, as he choked back a pathetic laugh. He wrapped his shaky hands around himself.Staring at the door, he could hear footsteps and see shadows moving through the corridors. It was just a matter of time before someone forced their way in here. He had to stop them. At least until he could think clearer and decide what to do.He stood up shakily, stepped over to his file cabinet and slowly started pushing it inch by inch toward the door. Once he finally had it blocking the door he looked around the room. His eyes settled on a stack of cardboard file boxes full of books and papers. He shuffled over, grabbed one with both hands and carried it over sitting it beside the tall file cabinet. He moved another half-dozen boxes, carrying them one by one over to stack in front of the door until they were finally all moved. He slid down the wall onto the floor exhausted, wrapping his arms around himself. Looking over at the blockade, he decided it would have to do. He had no more strength to move anything else. Why was he suddenly so cold?~^~^~^~Jack stepped out of the elevator and headed to General Hammond's office. After a few days climbing around on the roof of his cabin hammering nails he was ready for a day of nothing more strenuous than lifting a beer and pushing buttons on his TV remote. Maybe he wouldn't be so sore if he hadn't spent the better part of a day on a planet busting rocks with Daniel the day before he'd headed up to the cabin to bust his butt fixing a roof.After checking in with the General and taking a look at the new iris, he was going to drag Daniel out of his office. By force, if necessary. That would be the next stop on his list. He was stunned when he'd seen Daniel's car parked in exactly the same spot it had been when he'd left for his cabin five days ago. He was sure he'd find him holed up in his office surrounded by rocks and old dusty things.As he neared the gateroom he heard loud voices and decided to check it out."Lieutenant Howard, frankly I could care less what Sergeant Woodward told you. I'm telling you I want that iris on and this gate up and running day after tomorrow. Is that understood, Lieutenant?" Jack stepped out of the way just in time to avoid colliding with a very nervous Lieutenant. Hmm...Lieutenant Howard he presumed. He peered cautiously into the Gateroom seeing the General standing at the end of the ramp, hands on his hips staring at the Stargate. Jack stepped in and glanced around at the few faces in the room who looked up and silently nodded, but went right back to work.He slowly walked over and stood to the side of the General and stared up the ramp. It was glaringly obvious what had caused the heated exchange of words. His eyes studied the ring which included only a partial iris and maybe half the chevrons missing. Well, it sure looked like nobody was going anywhere anytime soon.The General didn't take his eyes off the gate for a few minutes then finally spoke."Welcome back, Colonel." General Hammond turned toward Jack. "We've had a few... problems while you were gone.""Maybe I should have stayed here and helped repair the iris instead of my roof, General.""I appreciate that, Colonel, but I don't think anything less than a house call from the Ancients themselves could have made any difference, but thanks just the same.""Problems getting parts, sir?""Something like that." General Hammond motioned toward his office and they walked in that direction as they talked. "The routine maintenance we were going to do while the iris was being replaced turned into anything but. Glad to have you back on base, Colonel. You know, you don't have a mission briefing until Monday. Assuming the gate is functional by then, that is.""Anything I can do to help, sir. Just ask." He followed the General into his office. "Major Carter could probably fix whatever it is. Has she checked in yet?""No. I haven't heard from Major Carter or Dr. Jackson yet Colonel. As you probably know, Teal'c is still off-world and until we get that gate running that's where he'll be staying." Jack's eyebrows went up at the mention of Daniel. "You haven't heard from Daniel since we left?""That's right Colonel. Is there a problem?""It's just....I saw his car still parked in the lot in the same spot it was in when we left the other day. I just figured he must have stayed here and worked on his rocks and stuff.""Well, I assume he must have left the base and went somewhere while SG-1 was off. He hasn't answered his phone and his office has been locked. No one's seen him for days.""I certainly hope so, sir. That boy works too hard.""Not unlike some other members of SG-1, Colonel."Jack gave him his best surprised look. "I don't know you mean, General?"General Hammond grinned. "You're dismissed, Colonel. I'll see you back here on Monday... I hope."Jack grinned, turned around and left the office. All he wanted to do now was stop by the store for beer and snacks and head back to his house to get ready for the games he taped while he was gone. He wondered where the heck Daniel had ventured off to."Colonel!" Sam called out as she saw him heading down the corridor toward the elevator.Jack turned around at the sound of his name. "Carter. When did you get back?""Actually I came here from the airport, sir. Have you heard about the problems with the Stargate?""Uh huh. Just spoke to the General. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you.""Well, I'm not sure if I can help or not.""Right...Oh, I think you'll do all right. By the way, did Daniel tell you where he was going this week?""No sir. The last I heard he was anxious to work on the artifacts SG-9 brought back. Have you checked his office?""No, but the General said his office has been locked up and he's not answered the phone." Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't think Daniel's car has been moved since we left. Isn't that a little odd?""I don't know. Maybe he got a ride home, sir.""I suppose so. I called his house a couple of times yesterday before I headed on back here though and no one was home.""He probably just decided at the last minute to take off somewhere. If I see him or hear from him I'll let him know you're looking for him.""Well. I'm heading home. I guess I'll see you tomorrow Carter."~^~^~^~Had he been sitting on the floor for minutes? Hours? Days? All he knew for sure was that he was in deep trouble. He had to get his mind clear enough to think about how he was going to keep whatever it was with that mirror from doing any harm to the rest of the base. He couldn't stay locked in here forever. He just needed to think. Why couldn't he think?He slowly got to his feet and reached over and picked up the ornately carved box he had put the mirror back into. That's the trouble with weapons. There are always innocent people who end up getting hurt. Not this time. No one else was going to get near the mirror. He glanced over at the coffeemaker. He hadn't made any coffee all day. He tried to lick his parched lips but he didn't have enough spit to even do that. Suddenly he heard a noise at the door and he froze. ~^~^~^~"Carter, I just want to take a quick look around his office and see if he left any clue as to where he's been for the past six days. For cryin out loud. He could have told us if he'd had plans. Did he think we might not worry about him?""Maybe it was one of those spur of the moment things, sir." When Sam suggested that Daniel probably left some clue as to where he went, it didn't dawn on her that he would actually go find Siler and get the key to unlock Daniel's office. She felt uncomfortable invading his personal space with him not around, but she knew that the Colonel was just concerned and also a little bit curious, too."Ten minutes," Jack told her as he pulled the keys out of his pocket trying to remember which one Sgt. Siler had told him was the key for Daniel's office. "I'll only snoop around for ten minutes and if I don't find out where he went, I'll..... not kick his butt when he gets back from wherever he went. How's that?"Finally finding the right key he slipped it in the keyhole. He turned the knob and pushed at the door but met with resistance. He pushed harder, hearing things scraping the floor on the other side, until he finally had a space of a few inches. He slipped his hand through the narrow opening he'd managed to create, to the wall where the light switch was. He flipped it, then flipped up and down several times."What the devil is wrong with this door.... and what's with the lights in here?" Jack leaned against the door and shoved harder until he'd managed to open it most of the way. The room filled with dim light from the brightly lit corridor, casting more shadows around the room. As he and Sam stepped in and their eyes adjusted to the dimness they could feel papers scrunching under their boots. "What the..."They both saw the man across the room at the same time standing, unmoving in the shadows. "Hey! Who are you? What are you doing in here?" Jack squinted to make out the face.Sam could faintly make out the shape of a flashlight laying on the desk next to her so she slowly moved a few steps and picked it up. When she switched it on and pointed it in the direction of the intruder, her and Jack were both stunned at who they saw staring back at them."Daniel?" Jack was shocked, not wanting to believe that who he was looking at was in fact their Daniel. Daniel flinched at the bright light as it momentarily blinded him. He held up his hand to shield his eyes, gripping the alien box to his chest.Sam could hardly believe her eyes. "Daniel? Are you all right?" But she could see even in the shadows that he was far from all right."Ja'ck? S-s-am?" Daniel's voice came out sounding weak and hoarse and he tried to squint to see across the room. Then suddenly remembering the danger his friends were in he took a step back, clutching the box tighter to his chest and holding his other hand out with his palm up as if he could push them out of the room. "You...you have to get out of here... now!" He was frantic now with fear.Jack was still so shocked at Daniel's appearance that he was at a loss for words. The man standing before them was pale and thin. The scruffy unshaved face and the dark circles framed his eyes that were now filled with terror. Jack didn't know what he'd expected to find when they'd come to his office, but this definitely was not it.Jack glanced over at Sam seeing the worry mirrored in her face. He pushed the door open the rest of the way, casting a puzzled look at the boxes and cabinet that had been blocking the door, bathing more of the room in soft light. "Daniel?" Jack slowly took a step and Daniel immediately backed up further away. "Daniel? What's goin on?""Ja'ck... Listen...you and Sam... are in danger. You've got to get out of this room, now." Daniel pleaded, his throat barely able to get enough moisture to speak and his words were intermingled with evident breathlessness.Sam looked down at the floor at all the papers, some scrunched some just scribbled on wondering what on earth had happened in here. She looked back up at Jack and saw him motion with his head and mouth the words 'Frasier' to her. She nodded and quietly slipped back out the door."Daniel. Why are we in danger?" Jack asked him gently drawing Daniel's attention back to him and away from Sam's sudden departure.Daniel was growing more frantic every second that Jack was this close to the mirror. He didn't know if even the distance across the room was safe enough for his friend. He couldn't take that chance. He had to convince him to leave. He put his hand out to the wall as a wave of dizziness washed over him, squeezing his eyes shut for just a moment before finding something to lock his eyes on to keep him grounded."You don't... understand. Ja'ck The mirror... It's dangerous. Now... please. Just... just go." He inched along the wall sliding his hand along the surface to keep himself upright as he tried to get more distance between himself and Jack.Okay, now. Daniel was really beginning to scare him. "Daniel, I'm not leaving you." Jack said firmly. He picked up a book from the table and opened it taking a slow step closer as he talked. "Have you been here, in your office, all week? Everyone thought you'd left the base. Even Hammond." He started slowly flipping through the pages hoping to distract him as he slid his feet closer, inch by inch so as not to startle him.Daniel kept his eyes glued on Jack's every move. As much as his blurred vision would allow anyway. His eyes darted around the room trying to find a way to get out and get the danger away from Jack. He saw the bathroom door a few more feet away and he slowly started moving in that direction.Jack heard a slight noise behind him and he turned and saw Sam who nodded so he knew Frasier was nearby. He quickly turned his attention back to Daniel who was leaning heavily against the wall now like he could pass out any second. He laid the book down and took a step closer. Suddenly Daniel's eyes met his in terror and he watched as Daniel swung the bathroom door open slipped inside and slammed it shut. Then he heard a click as the lock latched."CRAP!" Jack was over at the door in a flash as he slammed his fist into it and twisted the doorknob even though he knew it wasn't going to open for him. He glanced back and saw Sam looking in worriedly. He turned toward the door once more, laying his palms against the wood. "Daniel. Open this door. Let me help you." Jack pleaded."Go away!... Please... just.. go away."Jack was afraid to try to bust down the door. The room was so small he could very well end up hitting Daniel and so that wasn't an option."Crap!" Jack walked back to the open doorway and met Sam there. He looked out into the hallway seeing Frasier and her medical team waiting a few doors down with a gurney. He strode quickly down to Frasier and she looked up at him worriedly."Colonel?" Dr. Frasier asked. "What's going on with Daniel?""Your guess is as good as mine, Doc. Evidently he's been holed up in his office all week while we were gone and nobody knew he was here. He looks like he's really messed up but I have no idea why." Jack scrubbed his hand through his hair. "He's locked himself in the restroom. He keeps saying something about us being in danger... I don't know."Janet was getting that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She has just gotten back to the base herself this morning. To think that he'd been here all this time alone, and from what she was hearing from the Colonel and Sam, very ill, made her shudder."You've got to get the door open, Colonel." Frasier told him. "He may need medical attention right away."Jack looked up just as General Hammond walked out of the elevator at a quick pace. "Colonel O'Neill. Is it true? Doctor Jackson has been here in his office all week and he's taken ill?"Jack glanced back down the hall at Daniel's doorway, knowing he needed to get back down there as soon as possible. He turned back to address the General. "That's what it looks like, General. Right now I need to get back in there.... Siler has all the master keys, right? Even for the bathrooms?""I'm on it, sir." Sam said and she rushed off to the nearest phone."What now, Colonel?" General Hammond asked."I'll try to talk to Daniel until Siler gets here with a key." Jack said and he quickly turned and rushed back down the hall.Jack walked into the paper strewn office over to the bathroom door. He leaned his ear toward it and listened. "Daniel. It's Jack. How are you doin' in there?""Jack?...No!... I told you to go away...please." Daniel pleaded."Daniel, tell me why you want me to leave.""It's the mirror...the one SG-9 ...it's very... dangerous.""What makes you think the mirror's dangerous, Daniel?""translation...what it is...what ..what it does...Oh God!... please Jack... go...no one else.. hurt."Jack glanced back at the doorway hoping to see Siler with the key. He was growing more worried by the second. Daniel was really sounding bad. What was taking Siler so long?"Did the mirror hurt you, Daniel?""Yes. Look at me...Well...no... guess you can't.... just.. trust me. The mirror was...built by one of the...four races...kills the snake...the box, I opened it... didn't know..." Daniel was beginning to feel weaker and his line of vision was getting darker around the edges. "They found out...it hurt... humans ..with no symbiote."Jack was getting increasingly anxious as he listened to the voice on the other side of the door get weaker and weaker. He just wanted to reach through that door and pull him out. "Stay with me, Daniel.""Ja'ck?"Jack laid his forehead against the door, wanting so badly to be on the other side. "Daniel? Siler will be here any minute with a key. Just hang in there, okay?"The sound of shuffling came from the small room."Ja'k?"Suddenly loud thuds came from the bathroom."Daniel! Daniel can you hear me? Come on Dan..." Jack turned quickly at the sound of footsteps as Siler came rushing into the office, followed by Major Carter, Frasier and her team along with General Hammond."Hurry! I think he's down." Jack stood beside Siler as he watched him turn the key, then he grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and tried to open the door but it wouldn't budge. At least the lights were working in the small room. He managed to push it a few inches and look around the door seeing Daniel lying in a crumpled heap. Jack squeezed in through the narrow opening stepping carefully around legs and arms splayed out.As soon as he slipped inside the tiny bathroom he could see that Daniel's head was lying in a pool of blood, and he knew Daniel was in serious trouble. He managed to step over him and get behind him on the floor with just barely enough room to slide down to sit on the cool tiles. He lifted Daniel's head carefully off the floor and into his hands. He looked around for a towel or something but the paper towel dispenser was too far up on the wall."Daniel?" Jack had never seen anyone so pale unless they were..... He moved one blood soaked hand to Daniel's neck as he felt around for a pulse. His fingers were slippery as he moved them here and there willing himself not to panic. Finally he felt a beat and then another as he kept his now shaking fingers pressed against his neck. He looked up as Dr. Frasier poked her head in. "Colonel?""He's alive but he's bleeding bad."Doctor Frasier slipped through enough to hand Jack a thick pad of gauze "Hold it against the wound and apply pressure."Jack could feel the lump on the back of Daniel's head swelling as he pressed the pad where it appeared the most blood was coming from. He barely heard the voices barking orders about getting the door off the hinges. The next thing he knew, the door was being lifted away and Doctor Frasier was down at Daniel's feet, almost straddling him, with her stethoscope pressed against his chest."He's going into shock." She turned to the two medics who were waiting for her word. "Okay, let's get him out of here, now!"She stood up and backed out of the way as the medics knelt down on each side of the doorway. They each grabbed one of Daniel's legs and started slowly sliding his body out of the small, cramped room as Jack held the blood soaked pad against his head. Once he's cleared the doorway, a backboard was lowered to the floor beside Daniel as Janet took charge of moving her patient."Colonel, hold his head while my medics tilt his body so we can get the backboard under him. You just keep pressure on that wound. Okay. Easy now." She watched as Daniel was slowly and gently situated on the backboard. And the gurney was rolled into the room, he was lifted up and placed on it Doctor Frasier held the stethoscope against his chest briefly then ordered them to move.Jack held Daniel's head keeping pressure on the head wound with the pad against it in the elevator down the corridors, all the way to the infirmary. It wasn't until Doctor Frasier put her hand on his arm and told him they would take over, did he realize they were finally there. He backed up out of the way as the flurry of activity around the pale figure lying ton the gurney began in earnest. Doctor Frasier checked his pupils while another nurse removed the blood-soaked gauze and applied a pressure dressing against the cut on the back of his head. Another nurse was busy cutting away the clothing as still another was inserting an IV. Jack started to scrub his hand through his hair but stopped when he saw the blood covering his hands. A lot of blood. Daniel's blood. He stared at his hands then looked over at the gurney as an oxygen mask was placed over his nose and mouth, then as the nurses moved around busy hooking up monitors he saw the almost naked body lying so pale against the stark white hospital sheets. The sheet covering his body had slipped down and he saw how sunk in his stomach was and how his hip joints jutted out. He stared unbelievingly at the weight Daniel appeared to have lost. Then his eyes met Doctor Frasier's and they locked, each one shocked by his appearance and then just as suddenly she looked away and busied herself once more caring for her patient, ordering tests, re-checking vitals.~^~^~^~ After what seemed like hours, Doctor Frasier finally came out to the waiting area where she knew she would find the Colonel and Sam. As she came through the door, two pair of eyes immediately looked up at her.She tucked a strand of hair back out of her eyes and gripped the chart she was holding as she looked up into eyes filled with worry and fear."Daniel has just returned from having a CT scan. He does have a concussion but thankfully no fractures. He hasn't regained consciousness. He lost a lot of blood very quickly which is not that unusual with head injuries. We've given him a unit of blood and have more standing by. We're replenishing his fluids as quickly as we can. He was severely dehydrated when he was first brought in but that's improving." She paused as she gathered her thoughts together and looked down at the chart in her hands."I'm concerned with some of the test results I've gotten back so far. When we ran a CBC some of the results came back so extreme that we ran them again, only I added a few more tests. To be perfectly honest I've never seen results like this before. His red blood cell count was elevated which could be the result of severe dehydration. He has a significantly low platelet count which can affect his body's ability to clot, which contributed to the excessive blood loss. His glucose levels are unusually high and when I checked further I found some of his other hormones levels are all over the place. His TSH, Cortisone levels, calcium are all indicative of multiple endocrine system failure." Doctor Frasier looked up at the eyes listening intently, waiting for her to assure them all would be well. Which she wished she could do, but in this case she was afraid she was out of her league.Jack crossed his arms in front of him as he tried to keep his uneasiness from showing. "So. Doc. Is he going to be all right?" She turned the chart over in her hands and took a deep breath, looking up at the Colonel who was still staring at her. "I'm placing him in the ICU when he gets back from the lab so he can be monitored more closely. Frankly, I'm concerned with how Daniel could have deteriorated to this state so rapidly. I'm trying to treat the symptoms one at a time, but I have to be honest with you, there are so many different things going on here that there's a real possibility his body won't be able to fight them all at the same time."The silence that followed was so thick with worry and fear that you could almost feel it cover them all with a dark cloud."Doc, Daniel said something about some artifact he was working on, that it was dangerous. Do you think that has anything to do with him getting sick?" Jack asked."Janet, he mentioned a mirror that SG-9 brought back What if one of those artifacts from PHK-797 contained some alien organism or some other substance?" Sam added."Well, it certainly wouldn't hurt to check it out. At this point I'm grasping at straws." Doctor Frasier admitted.Jack turned to Major Carter. "Didn't General Hammond have Daniel's office sealed off?""Yes sir, he did, but If I could just hurry in and out I could gather up his notes and maybe I can figure out what he was working on when all this happened to Daniel.""No one goes in that room until there's no threat, Carter." Jack told her."What about a Haz-Mat suit, sir?" Sam asked.Jack thought briefly then gave her the go ahead to get General Hammond's permission.~^~^~^~Daniel at first could only hear the steady beat of his heart as it was amplified on the monitor. He concentrated on each bleep until he started noticing other sounds and feelings. The sound of low muffled voices faded in and out and his body felt as if it was floating on a cloud. He let himself drift along enjoying feeling nothing until he floated close enough to the surface to begin to feel the pain in the back of his head. He tried to move his hand up to feel what was wrong there that could hurt so much, but his limbs refused to listen. He heard a moan and wondered who or what could be hurting so badly.~^~^~^~Jack sat next to Daniel's bed thinking back to when he'd walked into Daniel's office earlier. He still couldn't get the picture out of his head of Daniel lying in a pool of blood and the tremendous amount of that same blood that he'd had on his hands from Daniel's head wound. He could still hear the sound of Daniel's voice as he begged him and Carter to leave. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a slight movement from the hospital bed. He stood up, still holding the limp hand in his and leaned over watching closely for some sign.Suddenly he felt it. The hand he held twitched the tiniest bit and he squeezed it gently hoping to keep the connection open somehow. As he watched the still too pale features he saw his eyes flutter and heard a soft moan.Jack hurriedly pressed the call button and leaned closer calling Daniel's name.~^~^~^~The sound of heels clicking grew nearer as Doctor Frasier quickly darted into the ICU glancing at the Colonel as she took her place beside the bed."He was trying to wake up, Doc." She took a look at her patient who was still moaning slightly and his eyes were fluttering as if he was trying to make the unwilling eyes open. She took her penlight out and shone it into each eye. Each time he tried to turn away from the bright light without success.Finally the moans and movements stopped and his breathing steadily grew more regular as he sank back into a deep sleep."When is he gonna wake up?" Jack asked quietly."I'm sorry." Janet was doing her best to stay detached to a certain extent, but with each passing hour she was finding it harder and harder to not feel like her heart was literally being cut out each time she entered the ICU."Why don't you get some rest, Colonel? You've been here all day. Take one of the VIP rooms and I'll call you if there is any change."~^~^~^~Jack strode down the corridor in search of Dr. Lee's office where he knew Major Carter and the other linguists and any one else who might have some knowledge of the ancient language, would be working on a solution. As he neared the offices he could hear several voices, each one spouting their theories and ideas. He didn't want to leave Daniel but he had to DO something to try to help him. Either that or he would be putting his fist through the next wall. He came to the doorway and stood there watching them talk until finally he rapped lightly on the door frame. They looked up as he walked in."Major. Anything yet?" Jack asked hopefully.Sam paused then turned to face her CO. "Possibly, sir." "Well, let's hear it." Jack crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. He had a feeling that if he sat down it would be too hard to get up. He hadn't realized just how tired he was."Well, according to Daniel's notes, SG-9 found a mirror on PHK-797 and brought it back to the SGC, to Daniel's office a little over a week ago. I believe it's what caused him to become ill, sir." Sam told him."How Carter?""Well, I'm not completely sure myself, but according to his notes, the mirror was designed to destroy the Goa'uld symbiote. The technology is from the original four races. Evidently the mirror came in a special box," she picked up the picture from the table and handed it to him. The box which Daniel unknowingly must have opened. "The mirror would be delivered to a Goa'uld as a gift. In this box. The Goa'uld would have one of his servants open the box to make sure it was safe and since the servants have no symbiote, it would have no affect on them. The Goa'uld would then accept the gift, gaze into the mirror and the symbiote would be targeted and over a matter of hours, would die."She looked up from the notes to see if he was following her so far."So why do you think it hurt Daniel, Major? He doesn't have a snake." "Exactly, sir. There was also a tablet among the artifacts that was actually a sort of record of their experiments with the device. According to Daniel the technology was abandoned when it was discovered the mirror had a harmful affect on non-symbiotic humans as well. It just took longer for them to feel the effects.""What 'effects' are we talking about here, Carter?" Jack asked worriedly.Sam looked over at Dr. Lee who glanced briefly at the Colonel before giving her a nod. She took the papers from Dr. Lee's hand and walked over to her CO. "We think the mirror holds some advanced alien technology that we haven't come across before that attacks the human body's endocrine system. Which in turn adversely affects every major organ in the body." She leafed through the papers until she found the one she was searching for and held it out to Colonel O'Neill. "See these symbols here and here? Dr. Lee believes these are almost identical to those found in ancient mythology. Each one stands for one of the endocrine glands. The symbol here that looks like a circle with an arrow sticking out of one side, is known to represent the adrenal glands. This is the symbol for the pituitary gland, the one that looks like a lightening bolt. And from the some of the descriptions on the tablet of how some of the humans died who came in contact with the mirror, it's consistent with disorders of these glands, sir.""What has Frasier said about all this? If this is what's affecting Daniel, then she can treat it, right?""Well, Colonel. I haven't talked her yet. We..." she glanced at the others, "were still discussing Daniel's notes.""So, let's go see Frasier."~^~^~^~Janet flipped through the pages from Daniel's chart looking over the test results to see if they would be consistent with the theory the scientists had come up with about what was slowly killing her patient. And sure enough it did all fit. If the alien technology targeted the endocrine system somehow, then the weight loss, the elevated blood pressure, dehydration, the fluctuating body temperature, the blood tests that had been so perplexing, and all the other symptoms that kept cropping up, all would be consistent with multiple endocrine disorders. She looked up at the group sitting around the briefing room table."What do you think, Janet?" Sam asked expectantly."Well, this would certainly explain Daniel's physical symptoms. How certain are you about this, Sam?" Janet and General Hammond and Jack looked at her, waiting for her reply."From what we've read from Daniel's notes, it's the closest possible explanation." Sam told them.Doctor Frasier closed the chart and slowly laid it down on the table in front of her, then clasped her hands together and rested them on the desk as she decided how to proceed since this new information had come to her attention.Eyes glanced anxiously around the room as an uneasy silence permeated the room. Colonel O'Neill cleared his suddenly dry throat and turned to Dr. Frasier."So...Doc...You can treat this endo thing, right?"She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "Colonel, if we were dealing with one, maybe two endocrine disorders at the same time it would be a challenge to treat successfully, but it could be done." She paused. "But if what Sam says is true, we're talking about multiple gland failure. The thyroid, hypothalamus, pituitary, adrenal glands, and that's just a sample of the possible organs that could be affected. Each one of these glands produces their own chemical that is necessary for the body to function properly. When just one of the endocrine glands for some reason produces too much or too little of a hormone it can cause a multitude of problems, most of them serious, some of them life-threatening.""Janet?" Sam tried to calm the quiver in her voice, "What are you saying?"Doctor Frasier looked at her with eyes shining bright with emotion, and then at the others. "All I'm saying is that Daniel's chances of recovery are lessening with each hour. I'll do what I can to treat the most serious symptoms, but to reverse complete endocrine failure......" She slowly shook her head as her throat somehow refused to work.The silence in the room was suddenly broken by General Hammond. "Is there any way to undo what the alien device has done to Doctor Jackson?" He looked around at those gathered at the table.Sam thought for a moment. "General, there could possibly be some technology on the planet where the device was found that could reverse this. I know its a long shot, sir, but..." General Hammond raised his hand to gently stop her. "Major, are you forgetting, the repairs on the Stargate are not expected to be finished until the day after tomorrow?" He turned once again to Doctor Frasier. "What is your prognosis, time wise, for Doctor Jackson?""With careful monitoring and treatment he may have a few days. But this is a device we've never encountered before, sir. I'm only giving you my best guess. He could just as quickly take a turn for the worst and...."Sam had an idea. "General Hammond. I could look over the tapes SG-9 made while on the planet so that when we do get the gate open, we might have more of an idea of what to look for. And Dr. Lee and his assistants are more than willing to help, sir.""All right, Major. As long as you can do this without going into Dr. Jackson's office again. It is off-limits until we have a better idea what we're dealing with. All right people. That's the plan then. As soon as the gate is ready you have a go to return to the planet. And Colonel, you'll take SG-9 with you. Dismissed."~^~^~^~Jack hurried out of the briefing room to get back to the infirmary and as he neared the ICU he heard a bustle of activity going on around the corner in Daniel's room. He stepped out of the way just in time as a nurse came out of the room in a rush and fled past him down the hall carrying some vials of blood. He walked past the closed door on into the observation room overlooking the intensive care unit Daniel was presently in. He walked in and went straight over to the glass window just as Dr. Frasier rushed in to the room below. Her eyes met his for a brief moment, and then the rush of activity continued. He stared at the pale figure lying on the bed as a nurse pressed a piece of gauze against the limp arm where yet another blood sample had been taken. He'd overheard one of the nurses say that Frasier had told them not to put the typical band-aid on Daniel every time they took his blood because they were having to stick him so often to keep tabs on the continually fluctuation levels in his blood. The nurse turned and hurried out after getting instructions from Dr. Frasier. Jack's eyes found the heart monitor and he stared at it as the line continued to move and spike. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the one thing that reassured him that his friend was still alive.~^~^~^~Doctor Frasier glanced up at the observation room and walked out snapping the gloves off and untying the gown and tossing it and the mask into the bin. She didn't know which symptoms to treat first. The fever? The dangerously high blood pressure? His kidneys which were in danger of shutting down? His heart was showing signs of the strain on his system. It seemed like there was a new crisis every hour. And with each crisis he became weaker, his body too tired and overwhelmed to fight so many battles all at once.She walked up to the observation room and paused outside the door taking a deep breath before going in. ~^~^~^~Jack rubbed his hand over his face then and pressed his thumbs against his eyelids as if that would stop the trail of tears that had escaped. He heard the door open and quickly swiped his face with the back of his hand. before turning toward the door as Doctor Frasier stepped in and closed the door behind her."Colonel.""Doctor."She walked over to the window and stared out into the room. "He's a fighter, sir." She said softly.Jack turned back to the window. "Yeah. He is. He's the strongest person I've ever known."They both stood, staring down at Daniel, each lost in their own private pain."I need to make a few calls to some specialists I know and check on the latest blood tests." She turned to the Colonel whose eyes were still glued to the room below. She reached over and gently squeezed his arm then turned and walked out. ~^~^~^~Jack listened to Major Carter and Dr. Lee as they each took turns excitedly telling the small group of hastily assembled people their latest discovery."And you found this out, how?" Jack asked."It was right there on the video SG-9 took in one of the buildings on the planet, sir." Sam said excitedly. "The tablet said something about a healing room. An 'altar of reflection that heals the shattered spirit'. Dr. Lee thought he could see some writing on a pedestal in one of the rooms. So we ran the tape through and magnified the area and that same exact phrase was written along the sides of this pedestal. " Sam looked around at the faces as they all focused on the photo projected on the wall. She excitedly pointed to the long mirror lined pedestal in the center of a brightly lit room. "The tablet also spoke of a special room. A 'room where no shadows fall'. When I spoke with Sgt. McCleary he told me about a room that I might be interested in checking out. It was illuminated continually all the time his team was there, He said it looked brighter than daylight because the floors, the walls, and the ceiling were lit up somehow from underneath the surface so bright that you wouldn't have been able to have seen your shadow. The pedestal is in that room. It's there. I'm sure of it."Everyone turned to the General as he spoke. "Good work Major. Doctor Lee. Sergeant Siler has assured me the Gate should be operational sometime this evening. As soon as they run the diagnostic checks on it, you have a go to P4X-929. Colonel O'Neill you'll take SG-9 with you. Good work people. You're dismissed."~^~^~^~Jack walked into the infirmary already kitted up and ready, just waiting for the go ahead as soon as the gate was checked out. He glanced down at his watch. Siler said forty-five minutes to an hour, so he laid his vest and pack down on the floor by the doorway and stepped over to Daniel's bed. He nodded at the nurse as she looked up at him. She stood, nodded and left the room, giving him some privacy.If anything, Daniel actually looked smaller in the bed amongst all the wires and tubes, than he had just a few hours ago. Jack moved the chair closer and sat down tiredly. He leaned his elbows on his knees and rested his forehead on his clinched fists. He felt a nervous tremor flutter through his gut. He could almost hear some imaginary clock ticking off the few precious minutes or hours they had left to find a way to reverse this.He raised his eyes and looked at Daniel as he lay unmoving. The only assurance that he was still alive was the steady beeping of the monitor. The sound which also reminded him of that imaginary clock ticking away toward death. Jack covered Daniel's hand with his own and spoke softly, although he knew no one would hear."I'm sorry, Daniel. I wasn't here when you ...maybe if I'd been here.... If I just hadn't left to go fix that stupid roof........" He lowered his eyes again and squeezed them shut."You've gotta hang in there Daniel. Carter and Dr. Lee, they think they've found something on that planet that will fix this. But you have to stay with me. You can't d.....can't go anywhere, you hear me? You gotta fight this thing, Daniel."~^~^~^~Doctor Frasier hung up the phone on yet another of her fellow colleagues who could only wish her luck along with their apologies that they couldn't help more. She closed the chart and got up to go check on Daniel. It had been another long day already. Taking blood every two hours to monitor the many chemicals and hormones that were fluctuating wildly was a necessary evil. She knew the nurses were feeling badly for having to stick Daniel so often. It was the only good thing she could see about his continued lack of consciousness. She pushed on the door to the ICU and stopped when she saw Colonel O'Neill sitting by Daniel, his head bowed low holding his hand. The lump grew again in her throat as she looked at these two men, so different and yet so close.She took a deep breath and stepped in, closing the door quietly behind her. He looked up at her and then quickly looked away, clearing his throat."Colonel." "How's he doing?"She paused, "I'm afraid he's not doing very well, sir."He just nodded, not taking his eyes off his friend."The gate should be ready any time.""That's good, Colonel."He stared intently at Daniel. "Is he gonna hang on till we get back?"My God, what could she say? That she was surprised he'd held on this long? That wouldn't do either of them any good."If anyone can, he can." She softly replied.The uneasy silence that was filled with so many unsaid words was finally broken by a light knock on the partially open door by one of the nurses. "Doctor Frasier, there was a call from General Hammond. He wanted me to let Colonel O'Neill know the gate will be ready in fifteen minutes.""Thank you, nurse. Has Doctor Jackson's last blood tests come back yet?""No Doctor. Would you like me to check on them?""Yes, would you, please?"She turned back to the Colonel who was fiddling with the blanket, twisting it in his fingers. She glanced at the monitor and stared at the readings not liking what she saw. She stepped closer to the machine as the spikes from the EKG started becoming erratic. She went over and pulled her penlight out of her pocket shining it in each of his eyes.Jack looked at her worriedly. "What is it? What's wrong?" He asked as he stood up beside the bed."His heart is weak, sir." She placed her hand on his forehead, feeling the cool clammy skin and wiped the sweat dampened hair back gently."Tell me he's gonna survive till we get back, right?" Jack said fearfully."I..I just don't know, Colonel. I'm sorry."Jack stared at Daniel and the monitor that told him each second he was still fighting to hang on."Can he make it through the gate?" He asked suddenly.She looked up at him questioningly. "I don't know. Why do you ask?""What if we take him with us through the gate to that room Dr. Lee seems to think might make him better?"She ran all the potential obstacles through in her mind but they were all possible to overcome. She weighed the danger of doing nothing until the teams went to the planet, returned, and then if they thought they'd found the answer for Daniel, taking him back through the gate to the room Dr. Lee spoke of.....That would all take time. Time she doubted Daniel had in his favor. Or letting the Colonel take him through now with a chance that he could be healed."Only if my team and I go with him, Colonel." She said firmly."Can you have him ready to go in ten minutes, Doc? I'll clear it with Hammond." He turned and was out the door before he even heard her answer.~^~^~^~Colonel O'Neill stood in the Gateroom with Major Carter, SG-9 and Teal'c who had dialed though right after the gate was back on-line and had finally been able to return. Jack glanced up nervously to the control room as they waited for Dr. Frasier and her entourage consisting of herself, her medical team and Daniel. Sgt. McCleary still wouldn't make eye contact with him because of the guilt he felt for bringing the artifacts back through the gate to Daniel. He would try to have a word with him when they got back to the SGC, assuming that he would be in a forgiving mood when that time came.Suddenly a flurry of movement caught his eye as two medics, with Dr. Frasier following behind, entered, pushing a gurney with Daniel now dressed in his BDU's.Jack motioned for Sgt. Davis to dial them up as he stepped closer to the stretcher laying on top of the gurney. He glanced over at Dr. Frasier. She looked up at him and said, "I think Daniel would have a fit if we made him walk back through that gate wearing only a thin hospital gown, don't you Colonel?" She grinned, hoping to give him something positive to hang on to.Jack nodded, thankful for her words and laid his hand on Daniel's shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze as he looked down at him worriedly, then as the seventh chevron locked and the wormhole burst forth the medics picked up the stretcher from atop the gurney and followed SG-9 through the gate, along with Dr. Frasier, followed by the rest of SG-1.~^~^~^~SG-9 along with Teal'c went on ahead the short distance to the building they believed held the room Dr. Lee saw on the videotape. Doctor Frasier kept a constant eye on her patient who was being carried by the two medics. She on one side and Colonel O'Neill on the other. The crackle of the radio broke the silence."SG-9 to Colonel O'Neill, Do you copy?""O'Neill here. Go ahead McCleary""We've located the room Colonel. Take a left when you enter the building and bear left until you come to a set of steps. The room is at the top. You can't miss it.""Roger. We're on our way."Jack looked over at Doctor Frasier who as much as she tried to hide her worry, the look in her eyes told him things he didn't want to know. As they came up to the wide doorway, Major Carter went in first leading the way, followed by the medical team carrying Daniel, and lastly Colonel O'Neill.~^~^~^~The medics carried the stretcher up the steps leading to the brightly illuminated room right behind Major Carter. Sam entered the room, nodding at Teal'c who was standing just inside the entry way, and let her eyes take in the alien décor .The Sergeant was right about one thing. You'd have to be blind to miss it. The entire room glowed."Wow. This is amazing." Sam said to no one in particular. But her next thought was of how much Daniel would love to see this room. She glanced back at the stretcher that had been lowered to the floor, as Doctor Frasier re-checked her patient. Colonel O'Neill was standing looking down at the pale, still form. He looked over at her and as his eyes met Sam's he quickly looked away. Seeing the glistening in her CO's eyes made her struggle to get her own emotions under control once again. Squeezing her eyes shut briefly then she opened them to see several other pairs of eyes staring at her, as if waiting on her to do something.Finally Colonel O'Neill spoke."What now, Major?" He asked.She looked around and saw the pedestal in the center of the room and started toward it. She recognized the writings along the base that Dr. Lee had finally translated to mean "the place where no shadows fall." She turned to see Colonel O'Neill standing beside her, also staring at the long mirrored surface."So... Major. This is it, huh?" Colonel O'Neill asked with a slight quiver in his voice."Yes, sir.""So. Daniel's gotta lay on it or something?""Yes sir. I believe so.""We'd better do it then." Jack paused briefly and then turned and walked back to where the stretcher lay. He looked down at Daniel then started unfastening the P-90 from the front of his vest. He handed the weapon to Sam.He motioned to the two medics. "Bring the stretcher over here." He waited for them to bend down and pick it up before turning and going back to the center of the room. He motioned for them to stop beside the table and Jack, putting one arm under Daniel's shoulders and the other under his knees, picked him up and gently laid him down on the shiny surface. He slipped his arms out from under his knees and then carefully slid his arm out from under his shoulders as he held his head. He laid his head down gently and looked up at Major Carter and Doctor Frasier standing across from him."Now what?" He asked."Now I guess we wait, sir." Major Carter answered.~^~^~^~The room was eerily quiet. The only sound was the unsteady breathing coming from the body lying on the mirror in the center of the room. Jack paced along the short distance just outside the doorway at the top of the steps. Major Carter thought the device would probably work better without anyone in the room except the one who had been damaged by the alien device.Doctor Frasier and the two medics were sitting on the steps waiting and hoping that the stretcher leaned up against the wall wouldn't be needed on the way back to the Stargate. SG-9 took up positions around the building and Teal'c stood at the foot of the steps keeping watch along with Major Carter. They glanced at the Colonel and then at one another, each knew how much Daniel meant to the Colonel and each could feel the tension emanating from the pacing man.Colonel O'Neill stopped and glanced into the room again, then turned to his 2IC. "Are you sure this is gonna work, Major?" He asked again."If the translations Daniel finished before he collapsed, and if Dr. Lee got the other translations correct, then yes, sir."He just stared at her. "If, Carter?""Dr. Lee and the other scientists are almost positive they have it right, sir." she replied."See it's that 'almost' part that I just...." He turned around quickly as he saw a flash of light engulf the room behind him and he had to shield his eyes to try to peer into the blinding fog that had permeated the entire room.Major Carter and Teal'c hurried up the steps right behind Jack and tried to see into the room with hands across their eyes but also couldn't make out anything beyond the doorway."Is this supposed to be happening, Major?" Colonel O'Neill asked."I hope so sir." Sam told him hopefully.Doctor Frasier was on her feet waiting on whatever was happening in that room to end so she could get in there and check on her patient.Then as suddenly as it had appeared, the bright light flashed out, leaving the room in its original incandescent glow. Colonel O'Neill stepped into the doorway, looked around, then rushed over to the mirrored pedestal. He looked down at Daniel as the color started to come back into his face and then he watched as Daniel's lips moved. "Ja'ak?"Colonel O'Neill leaned down as Daniel swallowed and one eye opened just a slit."Hey Daniel?""Too...bright."Colonel O'Neill glanced up at Doctor Frasier who was pressing the stethoscope against Daniel's chest and they both smiled. Tired, relieved smiles.She took the stethoscope away and nodded at the Colonel just as Daniel tried to sit up. Colonel O'Neill put his hand behind Daniel's back and helped him upright and gave the back of his neck a slight squeeze. Daniel squinted his eyes and looked around."Uh... Jack? Where are we?" Daniel asked."We're in the land of Nod and you just woke up." Jack exchanged grins with the others gathered around."What?""Never mind," Jack said as he squeezed Daniel's shoulder. "Let's just go home." fin. © February 2004 They don't belong to me, but a girl can wish, right? Another long Danny Whumper. What can I say? I couldn't write a 'drabble' if you paid me. Thanks again Lenya for a top-notch beta.
10315184	Brave	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Hal Jordan, Original Characters", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Shinzu", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-15T00:00:00", "words": "1,470", "Additional Tags": "Comfort", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "DC Animated Universe, Young Justice (Cartoon)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“So what do you want for dinner, kid?”“I don't know. What about burgers?”“Burgers are good! And then ice cream after, eh?”The small boy grinned, nodding. He took a deep breath of the cool night air. “Yes! I didn't think you'd actually get me ice cream.”“You think I wouldn't get my favorite person ice cream?” Hal asked, raising an eyebrow. He laughed, ruffling the boy's hair. “We can get some from that place you really like.”Gotham wasn't exactly his first choice for Russel to be going to school. The Bat had the crime city central covered, sure, but he was also quite territorial if Hal said so himself. He wasn't sure how he'd react to seeing the Green Lantern running around the city. Especially Green Lantern's son, if he didn't already know. He probably did. Of course the child was harmless, but superheroes knew better than anyone else: you had to be careful with those you loved. In a way, he was being careful, finding the perfect safe place for his son to go to school and all that. Picking him up and going home was easy. And if it wasn't, he knew people they could crash with for the night. Sleepovers, he called it, so that Russel wouldn't be worried. But in a way, he didn't want to have more pressure on the Bat's back. If he knew anything about the mysterious Dark Knight at all, it was that he was a sucker for children. Russel was just one other person he'd have to keep an eye out for. Maybe that's why Hal brought the child to Gotham in the first place.No matter where he went, Hal figured there would be some sort of consequence. He just didn't know what to do without putting the kid into more trouble; it always seemed to find him.“Here, let's go here!” Russel bounced in excitement, rushing through the entry of the nearest burger place. They were whisked away by a host who sat them together in a small booth toward the back—quiet. The interior was lively, sort of like one of those old 60s diners, and their booth was pastel shades of blue and pink. Russ had a good way of finding neat places.Before he sat down, Russel pulled the jacket off and handed it back to Hal, who folded it up neatly and placed it in the spot beside him.“So, how are you liking it here in Gotham?” Hal finally prodded as he skimmed through the menu. It was a laminated folder, front and back with drinks, burgers, ice cream, the usual. “Making lots of friends? Doing lots of art?”“I just do homework while waiting for you,” Russel said, looking at him with big soft green eyes. Hal always thought they were such lovely eyes. He was always a fan of green. “You know that!”“Hey, it's my job to make sure you're still liking it. I know my work keeps meaning you gotta move around.” A lie.“It's alright! I think Gotham's the best place so far, way better than that Central City place.” Also a lie.Hal grinned and gave him a thumbs up. When the waitress came around, they ordered their burgers and drinks—Russel got a milkshake, like always. Chocolate. Hal just got root beer.A deep guilt kept gnawing at him. He sipped his soda, alert and attentive as Russel spoke excitedly about all the things he was working on. Homework, his art, things he'd been designing for fun. Hal knew he was such a happy kid, a very sweet kid at that. He never had any ill will toward anyone, forgave people swiftly. A curse and a blessing, especially for one of his nature. Especially for the kid of a superhero. And Hal simply didn't know what to do.When the boy came into his care, he was barely a year old. And ever since then, Hal couldn't help but feel like he'd been putting the child in danger simply by looking at him. He was in space for most of his time for god's sake, willingly losing sleep in order to spend a few hours with Russel every day. But with the boy's soft nature, those big sweet green eyes, a smile that could melt hearts—not much unlike his own, he must add—bad things were going to happen. Already happened.It was stupid really, what Hal did. But if Batman was here, he'd say: everything you do is stupid Hal and you know it. Probably. Sounding dark and gritty wasn't really his thing.Hal just didn't want the boy to know that he knew he was getting bullied. It was a hard thing to say others had told him. So he came up with the excuse that to keep Russel safe from his work, they'd sometimes have to move. He only chose places with heroes he could trust: Metropolis with Superman, Central City with Flash, Gotham with Batman. They'd all worked out well until he noticed the boy getting bullied all over again. He'd only move him when it got real bad, but how many times would that continue to happen?He remembered approaching Superman—no, Clark Kent—one day. He knew Clark had two children. A daughter, and a younger son. Very young at the time. The reporter had been alarmed by the Green Lantern's visit, but with a quick power-down and explanation, the man was put to ease. If one could call it that.“You have no one else he could be with?” Clark asked, raising an eyebrow. “Mother? Siblings?”“None.” “And he keeps getting...bullied.”“Yes.” Hal fidgeted, hands behind his back. He didn't want to take advice from anyone. Normally he didn't need advice.“Well, why don't you teach him to stand up for himself?” Clark looked over his shoulder at the girl standing by the staircase, not much older than Russel, staring at them with a glare that could give Batman a run for his money. “You can't always protect them, but you can teach them how.”Now Hal just wished he knew how. Everything he'd done had been training in his early life, and training as a Green Lantern. But he knew how to fight. Punch people. Kick people. Russel didn't need that. Russel wouldn't ever do anything like that.Their food being placed on the table brought him back to reality. It smelled really good, and within moments Russel was digging into the fries and ketchup. He really did have a knack for finding good burger places.“Dad?” Russel asked between a mouthful of fries. “Will I always stay in Gotham? I really like it here. Today I met three kids. One of them was in my class. Jamie. The others I don't know. But they were really nice. Well, one of them looked like she wanted to murder, but...”Hal smiled. “Oh? Did you have a good time?”The boy's smile faltered, and he tried to give his best one. “Yeah. We ran around the block.”“Oh did you know?” Hal didn't have the heart to tell him that he'd seen him be picked up and pulled away from two dogs cornering him in the backyard of a vacant house. But maybe he should. He placed his burger back on the plate, running a hand through his hair. It settled back down in that little flip it always did in the front. “You know, um.” He pulled at his collar. “Russel, you don't have to lie to me.”Silence. Russel swallowed, taking a long drink of his milkshake. Bad time. Very bad time. Why did Hal always have a habit of picking a bad time? He mentally smacked himself, inhaled sharply, and leaned across the table to give his son a pat on the shoulder. “I saw that today,” Hal said quietly. Russel wouldn't meet his eyes. “You were very brave out there.”Russel shrugged, tears welling up in his eyes. “No, I wasn't,” he whispered, staring at a fry between his fingers. “I wanna be brave like you but I don't think I ever can be.”Hal stood up and shifted to the other side of the booth, wrapping one arm around his son. He wasn't good at comfort. Absolutely not. But he could try. He'd try for Russel. “You don't have to be like me,” he whispered, lowering his voice so only the boy could hear. “But you were brave. I'm proud of you.”Without a word the child turned and wrapped his arms around him. He ruffled his hair, patted Russel's back, all while hearing the child sobbing quietly into his chest.“We'll get ice cream tomorrow, yeah? Why don't we just go home.” All he got was an affirmative nod.
10337134	Knowledge of a language	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Anthony DiNozzo, Jethro Gibbs", "Fandom": "NCIS", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by KeinButterdieb", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-17T00:00:00", "words": "25", "Additional Tags": "Pre-Slash", "Relationship": "Anthony DiNozzo/Jethro Gibbs", "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 }	“Boss, do you know what ’I love you’ means in Italian?”Gibbs set down his coffee mug and nodded. “Ti amo.”“I love you too.”
10397925	The Sharpest Lives	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Emma Swan, Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time), Evil Queen \| Regina Mills", "Fandom": "Once Upon a Time (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by momorawrzzz", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-21T00:00:00", "words": "4,030", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Evil Queen \| Regina Mills/Emma Swan", "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 }	Disclaimer : I do NOT own Once Upon A Time or any of the characters ….Note : Hook/Emma kiss did not happen (for the sake of the Fic to work xD) & the urn wasn’t brought back either. And Emma has an apartment now. Emma has brought Marian back, and while everyone is at Granny’s celebrating Regina realizes who she is. Emma feels terrible, Regina storms out after discovering who she is. Nobody has seen either woman for a week now or heard from them. Everyone starts to worry but they realize its between the women to sort their differences as much as they want to jump in. Henry has been staying with his grandparents since Emma ran out after Regina the night Marian came back. Kind of a song fic, got the idea from My Chemical Romance’s “The Sharpest Lives” …. There will be SMUT just FYI….. “You’re just like your mother. Never thinking of consequences”Emma sat in her car the words replaying over and over again in her head. She sat parked in front of the Mayor’s house. The light in her bedroom was on, Emma wanted nothing more than to go and talk it out with her, but she couldn’t work up the courage.She’d been doing this for a week straight now, at about the same time too, she’d just drive over to Regina’s and sit there for about an hour debating whether or not to go and knock and attempt to step inside.She started the bug up, not today, she didn’t know what to say, or do, she knew Regina was furious with her, and she had reason to be but at the same time she couldn’t understand why, after all they’d been through, Regina was not even responding to her calls.She pulled up in front of her new apartment. Her phone lit up in the passengers seat, she glanced down. “Incoming Call: Mary-Margaret” She sighed. She let it ring until it was a missed call, then she decided she’d at least text her mother.“Still don’t want to talk about this, I’m sorry, tell Henry I love him, I’ll get him tomorrow”Almost as soon as she put her phone back down it lit up again with a text notification.“I love you too Mom, cya tomorrow :)”As down as she’d been lately she couldn’t help but smile and give a little chuckle, she should have know it was him trying to call her all week. She put her phone in her pocket and unhooked her seatbelt. She got out and went upstairs, pushed the door open and collapsed onto the couch. She couldn’t wait till the rest of the furniture got in, sleeping on the couch was getting old fast. She reached over to the coffee table and grabbed the bottle of whiskey, then poured herself a rather full glass. What was wrong with her, why was she getting so down about the fact that Regina was pissed at her, this was just their relationship, it was like a giant roller coaster of ups and downs. But this time she didn’t know if an up was coming anytime soon. It’d been a week already and neither of them seemed to be giving in to actually trying to talk about this in person. She reached into her pocket for her phone, maybe she should just text her and see if they could meet to talk after all she was going to get Henry back tomorrow and she didn’t need him in the middle of their fights.She practically chugged her glass of alcohol, she was going to need this to muster the courage just to text the Mayor.She poured herself another glass and began sipping it while she typed with her other hand.“Hey, listen I know I’m probably your least favorite person in the world right now, but can I come over so we can talk about this, because I don’t know what to do anymore, my head is spinning and I’m just sorry, really I am”She placed her phone down on the coffee table and finished her glass before pouring another one. Her phone vibrated and lit up and she nearly choked on the sip she’d taken as she saw the notification. Text Message : Regina MillsShe unlocked her screen and let out a half laugh at the response she’d received.“Fine”She finished off her glass, which hadn’t been as full as the first, and got up, she decided to walking was probably the best course of action seeing as she was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol now, maybe chugging three glasses hadn’t been the smartest idea but then again she’d never be able to deal with all this right now without it being in her.The walk wasn’t a long one and maybe it was the alcohol but she seemed to arrive in record time. As she got to Regina’s front door she stopped and took a deep breath before knocking.Regina opened the door and silently let her in, they went into her office and Regina poured them both drinks before sitting behind her desk. She sipped her drink and stared at Emma. “For someone who wanted to talk you’re awfully quiet,” Emma gulped.“Listen Regina, I’m sorry, I really am I was just saving her from being executed,” Regina rose a hand and Emma fell silent.“You were just being the hero, the Saviour, you were just doing the right thing, I get how you view it, but at the same time you’ve just gone and changed the future! You saved someone who was supposed to be dead! Someone who shouldn’t be here right now, you’ve thrown everything off! You can’t just go back in time and mess with whatever you chose to!” Her voice was getting louder and shaky as her eyes watered up, and Emma just sat there head down, silent. “Regina I-“ , she was cut off.“You’re just like your mother! Oh I was just saving someone from a terrible fate! You can’t save everyone Miss Swan! You can’t always do things that you think are right especially when they mess with timelines and the future!”“Listen Regina!” Emma stood up slamming her glass on the Mayor’s desk.Regina followed suit. The two were now leaning towards each other, anger visible in both their eyes.“What Miss Swan?!” she yelled.“I’m so sorry I ruined this all for you! I get it you were happy! You found Robin you had a second chance! I didn’t know who she was though when I saved her, mind you I rescued her from your dungeons!” she felt her face getting warmer.“I’m sorry I wasn’t who I am now back then! But if she was to die you should have just let her! Should have been selfish for once in your damn life and just saved yourself!”“I couldn’t just leave her there knowing you were going to kill her! She deserved the chance the live!”Their faces were now so close that their noses almost touched. Anger flaring in the brunette’s eyes, they looked almost black. “And what gives you the right to decide that Miss Swan! You couldn’t just leave it alone, couldn’t just do what you went there to do?” “No I couldn’t just let an innocent woman die! All she did was hide my mother from you!”“I was a different person back then! So don’t try turning this on me!” Regina snarled lifting one of her hands up and grabbing Emma’s face with it.Emma gasped. “Don’t try turning this on me, it was you who did this,” Emma’s eyes began to water. She could feel the emotions Regina was going through right now, she was angry, and hurt and upset, yet she refused to let the tears welling up in her eyes fall. “Regina I don’t know what you want from me, I’ve said I’m sorry and I really just want this all to be over and done with, please just forgive me! It’s not like I went looking for Robin’s wife to save her and ruin what you had going.”Regina let out a sigh and her eyes fell, she released Emma’s face and sat back down grabbing her glass.“I just thought I was finally going to have a chance. I was so happy, I finally got the courage to get to know him, and then it was all swept away, this is exactly why I wasn’t going to open up in the first place,” she finished her glass off and poured herself another. “Villains just don’t get happy endings,” she sighed.Emma sat sipping her drink as she was already three ahead of the Mayor, and that was all she could do, she really did feel bad for ruining Regina’s chance, but all she’d done was save an innocent life. Regina gave up the fight and let the tears fall now, and Emma lost it as well. They both sat holding their drinks, and letting the silent tears roll down their cheeks. And in unison they placed them down on the desk and looked into each other’s teary eyes.Emma stood up and moved around the Mayor’s desk. She stood next to the older woman, and placed a hand on her shoulder.“I’m sorry, if there was a way to save her and keep your happiness I would have, I just didn’t know who she was,” Regina slid her chair back and looked as if she was going to stand up. Emma stood just waiting for her to say something or do something.But what happened next had not been was she was expecting.Regina grabbed her hands and guided her to sit straddled on her lap. Emma didn’t know what was more shocking, the fact that the brunette had placed her here or that fact that she (Emma) had just let it happen.“I hate you!” Regina said, tears rolling down her cheeks as she grazed a thumb over Emma’s tear stained cheek.She then grabbed hold of Emma’s face and pulled it to hers. Their lips came crashing together. Regina bit and sucked at the blonde’s bottom lip, Emma let out a soft moan in her mouth. Her hands flew to the older woman’s hips and she scooted herself up more so they were chest to chest. “I hate you,” Regina mumbled and Emma felt her shirt being ripped open, buttons scattering, she gasped.“You don’t ha-‘’ Emma started but the Mayor was having none of it and cut her off with a nip at her neck.Nails dragged down her back and Emma let out a moan, it felt so damn good the bit of pain.Her bra was unclasped quickly and she shrugged it off her shoulders and began to attempt to stand, the brunette let out a growl, “Where do you think you’re going?” Emma stood and let out a chuckle, “I’m going to take you on your desk Madame Mayor, and show you why you,” she slips her hand down to between Regina’s legs, “don’t,” she slips under that tight pencil skirt, “hate,” she rubs her through her panties and a whimper escapes the Queen’s lips, “me,” she moves the panties aside and thrusts a finger inside of her without warning.The way Regina moans is breathtaking and her hips jut out towards the finger, silently begging for more, as Emma is sure she won’t actually beg aloud.The blonde withdraws her finger and brings it to her lips, sucking the wetness from it, “Mhmm” Regina’s chest is heaving as she pushes herself up and moves on Emma like a predator.She shoves the younger woman back and she falls, not so gracefully onto the desk. “Don’t you know dear, I’m a Queen, you don’t get to push me around,” she snarls and Emma gulps, maybe this wasn’t a good idea to get her so riled up, they do say there is a fine line between love and hate and she thinks they are quickly approaching it.“You don’t hate me Regina,” she knows she’s pushing her luck, but it has been awhile since she’s gotten any and angry can be quite amazing.“Don’t tell me how I feel,” and her skinny jeans are being yanked from her body roughly, nails scratching along her legs in their path. Regina leans down and bites on her thigh close to her sex, and bites down hard.“Ah!” Emma lets out a scream, pain and pleasure mixed are enjoyable but this is all pain.She reaches her hands down in an attempt to push Regina off and suddenly finds her hands cuffed to the desk.“What the?” she yanks at her restraints and the older woman chuckles, deep and hearty.“You’re not escaping me dear, don’t start something you can’t finish, Sheriff” and Emma knows she wasn’t ready for this, she begins to squirm.The brunette reaches down and hooks her thumbs under the waistband of the Savior’s panties, simple black cotton, she internally scoffs. She isn’t the least bit surprised to see that Emma’s glistening, wet and so ready for her, torturing her is going to be fun. The brunette leans forward and flicks her tongue out over the spot she’d just bitten not too long ago, Emma lets out a sigh, and that’s when she moves again, latching onto a spot just below it and biting and sucking. Emma’s hips jerk upwards and the Queen places an arm across her stomach to hold her down.“Ah ah, this is my game Princess,” she smirks all the bit the Evil Queen and Emma’s head drops back against the desk, she’s given up trying to pull at her restraints.Suddenly there’s a tongue on her most intimate parts and she screams as Regina doesn’t hesitate to suck her clit into her mouth.“Fuck!” it comes out breathy and in a bit of a moan.“You want me to fuck you don’t you?” her tongue flicks over the twitching bundle or nerves, “Well, it’s rather unfortunate that I have other plans for you, one doesn’t simply steal from the Evil Queen, you aided a prisoner in escaping.”Without any warning two fingers are thrust inside the blonde and Regina draws a rosy nipple into her mouth holding it between her teeth.“Re-gina!” Emma’s losing her mind now, the multiple sensations, the bit of pain, the angry thrusts of the other woman’s fingers into her, she’s being fucked, there is no other way to put it, she’s going to be writhing and quivering under the hands and tongue of the woman she once swore she hated. The woman who swore she still hated her, but as she felt the fingers curl upward to hit her g-spot all thoughts of hate left her mind. Regina drove into Emma quickly, she wanted to hurt her, she wanted her to have happiness just to have it taken away, and here she was taking a page from an old book or hers, she knew she was good at pleasure.“Do you want to cum?” she raises an eyebrow and glances up before switching to the other breast, loving that she’s found a way to shut the irritating blonde up. “Uh” is all she can manage. Regina moves back down her body and pinches her clit between her thumb and pointer finger, jerking Emma from her quickly approaching orgasm.“You don’t cum, until I say so, dear, this is my house, my rules,” Emma lets out a sound that almost sounds like a sob. She tries to move her hips against the other’s hand as Regina has now ceased all movement and is just pinching her clit. “Fuck! Regina!” Emma’s mind is swimming, she can’t focus on anything.“Miss Swan, you’ve done something you have no business doing,” Regina states as if it’s quite obvious and slowly slips one finger back inside of the squirming blonde. “ReginAAAA,” she tries and just as she reaches the last part of her name the brunette drives three fingers into her with no warning or preparation.“Mhmm,” Regina pounds into her and her hips buck continuously, casually flicking the younger’s clit with her thumb, she already knows she’s going to stop once the blonde is at that point but she’s not going to clue her into her plan.Emma arches up from the desk and lets out a long moan and Regina nearly loses her composure, she has to remind herself she’s angry at this woman she has upon her desk. She has to remind herself she is simply going to get her to the edge and leave her, but the sounds that she is making are blurring her mind and she no longer knows for sure if she can pull herself from it when she reaches the point at which she had originally planned to end this little escapade.Emma’s moans are beautiful and Regina can’t resist them any longer, so she dives in, she quickly moves down the Savior before her and licks along her slit which is soaking wet for her, drawing out a long and slow movement of her tongue. She can feel Emma’s core twitch so she knows she has made her point clear. She thrusts her tongue into the blonde and revels in the fact that the blonde lets out a whimper. “Don’t you dare cum!” Emma cries out in a whimper as she is already so close yet she for some reason doesn’t want to disappoint Regina, she doesn’t exactly know why she has this urge either. The blonde bites her lip and tries her best to contain the sounds that she knows will come from her if she doesn’t bite the back of her hand, but seeing as her hands are restrained she doesn’t know what she can really do. A moan tears through her mouth and Regina’s eyes show the fire inside of them, she’s enjoying this. A few quick flicks of her tongue against Emma’s clit and she’s there. Emma’s hips are coming off the desk again and Regina allows it for a moment and quickly pulls away and stands up.“What the?!” the Sheriff spits out.“I’m done dear, I don’t know what you could be complaining about,” she flicks her wrist casually and the handcuffs around Emma’s wrists fall away. Once they do the blonde launches. She’s on Regina in seconds, she has the Mayor pinned to the window of her office, if it was day light she’d be on display for everyone to see. She let’s out an indignant huff.“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to start something you can’t finish,” Emma whispers into the brunette’s ear. With that she rakes her nails up the prim and proper woman’s thighs and sneaks under the pencil skirt. Regina’s breathing becomes heavy and she lays her head against the window eyes closed and mouth open as if in a silent scream She won’t give Emma the satisfaction, this is just sex, she doesn’t need to hear her. But Emma has other plans and the Mayor’s eyes shoot open as she hears and feels her panty hose being ripped right by her sex. “Miss Swan!” she tries to push back against the woman but Emma definitely has muscle and strength and doesn’t budge.“Problem?” she asks and she moves a finger along the panty line covering the Mayor’s soaked pussy. A groan escapes blood red lips, and teeth bite down on a lip as she tries not to be heard, she can’t let this woman gain the upper hand.“Fuck! You!” she sounds a bit breathier than she’d prefer.“Why Madam Mayor who knew you’d have such a dirty mouth?” the blonde raises an eyebrow and rubs along the other woman’s slit through her panties, at the same time she decides to bite down on the long slender neck before her and suck vigorously. “Miss Swaaaa,” she tries and it fades out into a moan, she wiggles her hips in an attempt to escape the hold the Savior has on her but instead this only increase the pressure against her sex which is now throbbing ever so slightly.Emma quickly slips a finger underneath the lace that covers the prize, and a sharp intake of breath lets her know that she’s having the desired effect. “Cat got your tongue?” she punctuates each word with a quick hard thrust of her finger into the swollen heat, and then pulls out entirely and stands back just enough for her next move.Regina is suddenly spun around and her back now takes place of where her chest was, before she can say anything thin pink lips are upon her own swallowing any protest.Emma bites and sucks on the red bottom lip in front of her and then trails down an olive colored neck and suddenly drops to her knees.Regina gasps as her skirt is pushed up around her waist and thumbs are hooking into the waistline of her black lace thong. She steps out of the underwear as it makes its way down to her ankles. Emma looks up at her with a mischievous grin and unceremoniously moves Regina’s left leg over her shoulder. Catching on the brunette anchors herself on the blonde’s shoulders and just as she does so she feels the first swipe of a wet tongue against her heat.“F-fuck!” she half screams and that’s all the encouragement that the younger woman needs and she reaches a hand down to spread the older’s lips and thrusts her tongue inside. She alternates between deep and shallow and her thumb puts just the right amount of pressure on the little nub above. Regina’s moans are so hot and driving her insane, she doesn’t think any of the girls or women she messed around with ever sounded quite so perfect.Nails dig into shoulders and she hears Regina’s head fall back against the window, without any warning she moves her tongue to the Mayor’s clit and sucks simultaneously thrusting two fingers inside wet heat.“Mo-More,” and suddenly she’s filled to the brink with three fingers thrusting into her quickly, a thumb perfectly flicking her clit on each upward movement.Emma turns her head suddenly and bites down on a thigh hard, ‘revenge’ she thinks, but then suddenly she feels her fingers being clenched and a gush of liquid coats her hand and cheek. “Em-maaaaAAA” Regina screams as she cums full force, she hand’t expected fucking the blonde to have such an effect on her, so she isn’t surprised she came so quickly, but now she’s sure she said her name. Hands leave shoulders and she slumps back slightly as Emma helps her to lower her leg back to the ground. She quickly pulls her skirt back down and Emma stands, giving her distance, perhaps she took this too far, they were just supposed to talk, and gods was she still uncomfortably aroused. Regina seems to recompose herself quickly and glances up at Emma, who suddenly feels under dressed and moves to collect her clothes. As she bends down in front of the desk she can feel eyes upon her backside so she makes sure to bend a little extra and push her ass out.And then she’s on her, she’s being pushed against the desk bent over still and feels the claws on her ass before two fingers are thrust inside of her curling just perfectly. Another hand moves to rub her clit hard and fast in circles and then she’s cuming all over the Mayor’s hand. She’s screaming incoherently and feels lips on the back of her neck as fingers slow to draw out her orgasm.“F-fuck,” she says releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding and Regina just chuckles and moves back.Emma stands on shaky legs and turns to face the laughing woman.“Care to share what’s so funny?” she raises an eyebrow.“That did not go as planned,” she simply states and then Emma’s laughing with her, not even caring anymore that she’s naked. THE END
10376106	April 3rd	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Tony Stark, James \"Bucky\" Barnes", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by The Little MerBucky (demonologue)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-20T00:00:00", "words": "5,845", "Additional Tags": "winteriron, buckyxtony, Iron Winter, Iron Soldier, First Dates, Fuckbuddies, New York City, Boss/Employee Relationship, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has a Heart, Slow Romance, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Heartbroken Bucky Barnes, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, sexual healing, Stalker Tony, engineer bucky, the missing piece, Central Park, Carriage Rides, salariman, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Super Gay Tony, angst-ish, Podfic Welcome", "Relationship": "James \"Bucky\" Barnes/Tony Stark", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "The Salariman", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Marvel Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies)", "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 had a problem. Like all of his major accomplishments, he’d made it himself. And though there was something to be said for taking pride in a job well done, he wasn’t sure that applied to situations you’d created that fucked your own life. He was head over heels for one of his engineers. That in itself wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Moving offices or even departments would solve the issue of conflicts of interest. No, his problem was much more complicated.Because he’d gotten what he’d wanted too fast, and now he was having trouble going back and changing his answer.A happy accident, when the employee you’ve been mooning over accidentally texts you a photo of a very intimate part of his anatomy. Tony could forgive mistakes, especially when they added to his porn bank. But they’d gone straight for meaningless affair, and that wasn’t what Tony wanted.Well it HAD been what he’d wanted. Now he just wanted more.Weeks. He’d spent weeks getting to know this new office, going through employee profiles, getting to know the bare minimum on all of his new worker bees, only to have all of his page-turning stop. On one particular profile.This couldn’t be right. This guy? An engineer? Surely this guy should be auditioning on Broadway, heading west to pursue a career in film--or modeling. He might have seen this guy on a Spring runway in Europe. But here? In his office? What in the hell was this man doing here? In a grey felt box, pounding out code all day?He’d quickly looked up the HR forbidden files: relationship status. Single. The word seemed to jump out at him from the page: SINGLE. For a man this age, this attractive, that could only mean one of two things: gay or very gay. Of course gay-single didn’t mean single, it just meant single for heterosexual record-keeping purposes.So Tony had decided to feel him out. Take a look at this blue-eyed honey in person. Maybe he was just photogenic. He wasn’t. He was, in fact, possibly the single-most attractive person Tony had ever met. And that included a long parade of celebrities. Oh, it wasn’t just looks. Sure, he had those. But he also had a sweet nature. He was smart. He cared about his family. And he made the stupidest faces when he was excited about something that were simultaneously the most endearing thing in the world. All of Tony’s overtures had fallen flat. His daily pass-bys of Barnes’ cubicle were met with one word answers and looks of fear. Fear? Tony Stark wasn’t someone you feared. Well, you might fear how much you loved him. But other than that…He’d kept on, trying different tactics, asking questions about work, personal questions--Barnes had three sisters. How did he know that? Well, he was just a good boss-- totally banal questions about the weather. Nothing seemed to work. He’d tried smoldering looks across the board room during seemingly endless presentations, only to be met with awkward smiles.Very frustrating. He’d been considering resorting to bribery, perhaps even quid pro quo when the unthinkable had happened. And he’d thought perhaps his favourite employee had just been playing hard to get. That was, until Barnes had admitted it had all just been a mistake.That had been a blow to Tony’s sizable ego. And yet, they’d been alone, he was not to be deterred. The way to a man’s heart was through his pants. Why everyone pretended otherwise, Tony would never know. After some brilliant oral sex, Tony had been rewarded with the hard dicking he’d been needing for weeks. Ridiculous how badly he’d wanted it from Barnes. And then he’d demanded it become a regular occurrence, all the while making it clear that this was not a relationship. This was not an entanglement. His engineer shouldn’t get attached, shouldn’t assume, shouldn’t presume.Yet all the while, it seemed Tony himself had.It was unacceptable. What was the deal with emotional intimacy? His father, the shrinks claimed. And Tony could accept that. His father wasn’t winning any parenting awards. And yet his mother had been great. Right? He loved her. Loving parents could still send their children away to boarding schools in Europe, right?Two things his father had instilled in him through years and years of repetition: You had to make your own way in this world and no one would ever want him for anything except his money. A word to the wise from one billionaire to his heir.The only thing was, Tony’s pet engineer didn’t want money. He returned half of Tony’s gifts, saying they were too extravagant, gave credit cards back unused, told Tony to stop buying things. He didn’t want a raise, he didn’t want a new office. And yet he wasn’t withdrawing sexual favors. So, what? What was it? It disturbed Tony. Something in his worldview wasn’t adding up, and he didn’t like that.What would his father say? He knew what his father would say: stop shitting where you eat. The problem was, Tony didn’t have much of a life apart from work. Meaningless sex at parties, award dinners, and conventions was all well and good, but sooner rather than later, he would be back at work, and then what? It was a feast or famine scenario that had yet to work for Tony, especially given that Howard Stark’s heir was not allowed to be gay. Which added a whole other layer of complications.More than anything what it was, was tiring. Emotionally exhausting. Making your own way in this world was fine when you had some kind of support network. Rhodey was only one man. The best man, but he couldn’t fulfill all of Tony’s needs. There was only so much he could do. And Tony wasn’t 25 anymore. At 30-something, he was looking to his own future, and seeing little but fame, fortune, and exhaustion, followed by premature death. Tony needed more. He needed someone gorgeous and giving, nurturing, who got a kick out of pleasing others, understood Tony’s work but could also argue intelligently about Batman vs. Superman. Someone experienced, but not jaded--that was his job. Someone who met melodrama with pragmatism. Someone with a sweet smile and oodles and oodles of patience. And he might have finally found that person. But he’d painted himself into a corner. Spent so long creating the illusion of a strings-free relationship, now that he was realizing that he wanted one, Tony wasn’t sure how to add the strings back in.Worse, his engineer had gone off and met some big side of beef with no intimacy issues. Who touched and held and shared freely. Who went out of doors and exercised with his pet engineer. Who had…a dog. Who did normal, red-blooded American things. Who wasn’t terrified of commitment. Who didn’t need to pop pills and talk to a therapist just to get out of bed in the morning. And here was Tony, having put off their first date for two months, for what? To play the game? Pretend indifference? Alright, his schedule was busy, but that was only if he actually kept all of his appointments and actually made the business trips he’d booked tickets for, which he never did. Already he’d shown his schedule was more flexible than that, summoning his engineer over to his apartment to fuck him to sleep, as it were. More than once, he’d even stayed overnight. But those weren’t dates, hadn’t involved much interaction at all but the basics. So what must his engineer think at this point? That Tony doesn’t want to be seen with him in public? Not true. He’ll make beautiful arm candy. That he doesn’t value him enough to hold a conversation not involving sex? They’ve almost done that several times now. Almost. Does he feel undervalued? Used? Disappointed? Tony thinks he might have seen that in Bucky’s eyes once or twice.Lately, the distance between them seemed to be increasing. At first, their trysts were fun. Exciting. But now they knew each other’s bodies, it was...more like work, by rote, less spontaneous, fewer surprises. Almost awkward at times. Tony felt as though he was in danger of losing Bucky. And just when he’d decided he really wanted him.But what to do? Tony Stark was not about to be outdone by some lunk alarm from the upper east side. He focused on their upcoming date. Their date, THE date, was going to be the most amazing outing Bucky had ever experienced. And at dinner, he would tell him. He would claim what should have been his from the start. * Bucky looked tired. “You look tired, sugar.” Tony stroked fingers through his angel’s hair, gently teasing his scalp. Maybe choosing a Friday for their first date, when they were both tired from a full week of work, hadn’t been the best plan. “Just a little,” Bucky smiled. God, he’d come to crave that sweet, closed-lipped smile.“You still up for tonight? Not that you’re allowed to say no, but it makes me seem more generous if I ask.” Of course it wasn’t a question. There was only one correct answer.“Sure.” But his eyes were distant, and he looked so tired. Tony wanted to...well, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do about it. But sending his pet engineer home to sleep wasn’t it.“Alright, cupcake, why don’t you run home and change. I’ll be by to pick you up at 7.”“Change?” Bucky looked put off. “I thought we’d just head straight to dinner from here.”“Aren’t you cute?” Tony smirked. “You thought we were having dinner in New York.”Bucky blinked. He really was the human emoji. “We’re not?”Tony was so pleased to answer that question. Could hardly contain his excitement or self-congratulations. “Be sure to grab your passport before you leave the house.”“Passport?” From the look on his face…No. No, this couldn’t be happening. Tony’s carefully-laid plan was not going to fall apart now.“I haven’t had a passport since I was a teenager, Tony.”“What?” He tried to make sure his smile was surprised and not angry. “What kind of businessman doesn’t have a valid passport these days?”Now Bucky was starting to look annoyed. “One who never travels anywhere? Tony--”He held up a hand to stop him. “Okay, my fault. I get it. I wanted to surprise you, and it backfired.” He took Bucky’s hand, smiled apologetically. “Silly me. Stupid Tony, always planning so far ahead I forget I’m leaving people behind.” He raised Bucky’s hand to his lips, kissed it. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s go anywhere you want. There’s still a whole country for us to explore.”But Bucky was looking apprehensive. “Tony...I don’t want to leave New York. You gotta give me some kind of heads-up for travel plans…”“Oh, come on,” Tony’s smile was more and more forced. His plans...his precious, precious plans... “We can go somewhere quick, be back by midnight. What about Boston? Have you ever been to Boston? Fantastic city! I’ll show you all my old haunts.”Now Bucky was giving him an unamused look. “Tony...I went to MIT. I know Boston just fine.”“YOU went to MIT?” Apparently, his employee profile- digging hadn’t been too thorough. He blamed Bucky’s pretty face for distracting him.“Um. YEAH. We had a class together.”Tony was stunned. “We did?” He could never have forgotten a face that pretty. Never.“Li’s Numerical Computation class? You always sat at the front? Argued with him? Answered questions before anyone else could, to prove what a smart-ass teenager you were?”Tony shrugged his shoulders, defensive. “Well, I was.”“You were a little shit.” Tony couldn’t tell if Bucky was upset or amused.“Well I...m sorry I didn’t remember. I don’t remember a lot of people from college.” That wasn’t strictly true. He remembered people who were important, who could get him things he needed, people who moved in the same social circles, which Bucky obviously hadn’t.“I wasn’t your roommate, I wasn’t in your fraternity, and we didn’t sleep together.” Those seemed to be the only reasons Bucky could think he’d remember someone from college. And he wasn’t all wrong, but Tony felt guilty just the same.“I said I’m sorry.” He gripped Bucky’s hand again. “Let me make it up to you?” Not that tonight was supposed to be about apologizing for not knowing this basic fact about his lover, but Tony desperately needed to get things back on track if he wanted to get to the finish line he’d envisioned.Bucky was giving him one of those looks that said he was going to give Tony his way out of pity. That he was getting a free pass, even though he’d utterly failed to fix the thing that had upset Bucky. Tony hated those looks. He could accept sex based on one of those looks, but this? The date he’d been planning for weeks? Well, the important thing was to move out of this dangerous territory of perhaps not being worthy of a relationship with Bucky. Because he was. Probably. Well, he’d seen him first; he had dibs.“Tony…” Bucky was looking down at his desk. Tony could feel something coming, something he knew he wouldn’t like.“Okay, you win!” he said, pasting on a bright smile. “We stay in New York--but just this time. Next time, I promise I’ll plan better, I’ll give you a heads-up, and we’ll go somewhere. Anywhere you want.”Bucky was tilting his head, reluctant. “Tony…”He held up a hand. “Nope. No need to thank me. Wait until we’re there.” He grinned, sultry. “Then you can thank me all night.”Bucky snorted a laugh, shaking his head. Sometimes Tony couldn’t understand why Bucky put up with him. Part of him really wanted to know. “Alright, Tony. You win. For now.”So they didn’t change. Merely headed uptown to Shuko, where Tony wouldn’t let Bucky see the prices on the menu, but forced him to simply order what he wanted. Tony held his hand--under the table, there might be paparazzi about--for a good part of dinner, and Bucky kept casting him inquisitive looks, like he couldn’t believe he was actually on a date with Tony. And not in the ‘wow, is this really happening?’ way, but in a ‘why am I here with you like this? it’s weird’ way. Things were not going according to plan, though the food was as good as they might have had anywhere.Tony tried to get Bucky to talk, but it was the same old boring small talk they made at the office, before and after sex. The conversation kept trying to shift to work, and he toiled tirelessly to shift it away. This was supposed to be fun, spontaneous falling in love, get-to-know-you type talk. But somehow, it wasn’t working out that way. Finally, Tony had to resort to telling embarrassing stories about his childhood. That seemed to do the trick. Bucky stopped talking as much, but he did laugh. Tony loved it when he laughed.They left the restaurant arm-in-arm. Tony was half-drunk and had thrown caution to the wind. “Let’s go for a carriage ride around the park,” Bucky suggested on a whim. “What?” Tony whined. “That’s so plebeian.”“Come on, Tony.” Bucky was smiling, towing him along. “It’ll be fun.” Sure, driving to midtown to ride around the park at night in an antiquated form of transportation was going to be a blast. But it was what Bucky wanted. Tony owed him that much.Then, it turned out, it was fun. Mostly because of Bucky. He was smiling, chattering on, pointing out places of interest--apparently he jogged here every day. Tony could picture it, those long, muscular legs pumping away, tight buns only just covered by microfiber shorts, labored breaths fogging the crisp morning air. He was only half-listening to what Bucky was saying. It was much more entertaining to watch him. When Bucky stopped talking to glance over, Tony kissed him, and that was it. Well, not fully it. Their making out in the carriage was restrained, compared to how they usually did things. Bucky actually held him, kissing Tony over and over, like his lips were made of candy. It was nice. Not because he was in love, but for other reasons Tony couldn’t think of just now. Toward the end of the carriage ride, Tony didn’t really want nice anymore. He wanted to climb inside Bucky’s drawers and pay a visit to his favorite cock. With all of their making out, by the time the ride was over, he was so hard, Tony was half-tempted to finish it in the nearest men’s room. But Bucky was on a different page, happy, smiling, holding his hand, even swinging their arms a little. It threw a bucket of room temperature water on the flames of Tony’s libido. This was the kind of reaction he’d been shooting for, wasn’t it? He should take a step back, enjoy it.“Where to now?” Tony asked him. Apparently Bucky’s place was close.Tony frowned at the bare living room while Bucky opened a bottle of wine in the kitchen. “I pay you enough to buy furniture, don’t I?” he asked.“I just haven’t had time to settle in,” Bucky called back. But it was one of the saddest uptown bachelor pads Tony had ever seen. There was one chair, an overturned milk crate which had obviously been used for a table, unpacked boxes, half packed boxes, and fast food wrappers jammed into a giant garbage bag in the corner. There wasn’t even a television.“Who lives here?” he asked, glancing up at the one piece of art on the walls, a large painting of the view from the top of the empire state building. Bucky walked up behind him, handed Tony a glass of wine.“I do,” he said.“You don’t,” Tony accused, giving Bucky a disapproving look through his eyelashes. No one lived in a space like this. It wasn’t even cluttered with useful things like Tony’s workshops tended to be. He wasn’t sure exactly why it upset him to see that his pet engineer’s home looked like this, but it did. It really did.“Sure I do,” Bucky sat in the chair, beckoning Tony to come join him. He perched on Bucky’s knee, feeling like a college coed. “I mean, I work late, and I’m not here that much, I guess, but it’s still...where I live.”“You were about to say home,” Tony pointed out, “but you changed your mind.” He would send over a designer. That’s what he would do. Make this place at least look habitable.“I’m still getting used to it,” Bucky shrugged uncomfortably. “It takes time getting used to a new place.”“And living alone?” Tony guessed, leaning toward him, hope hope hoping that Bucky would stop looking so sad and just kiss him.Bucky clenched his jaw. “And living alone.”Tony leaned against him, stroked his jawline. “You’re really handsome...did I ever tell you that?” A distraction technique? Maybe. But also something he personally believed 100%.Bucky offered a half-embarrassed smile. Score one for distraction. “Think you might’ve mentioned it a time or two.”“No, I mean it,” Tony went on. “I’m not saying it during sex this time, so you have to believe me.” That sounded like a reasonable conclusion, right?“I believe you,” Bucky looked away, clearly uncomfortable being admired. Which was ridiculous. Tony could mount him in a museum and admire him for days. Hmm. A museum...He let his hand slide back, petting Bucky’s hair. “The minute I laid eyes on you...I knew. The first time I saw you.”Bucky glanced back at him. “That I’m attractive?”“No, dummy.” He kept on petting Bucky’s hair. Maybe he was more thought than he drunk he was. All of a sudden, he really needed to tell Bucky. He needed him to know. “That I wanted you.”Bucky rolled his eyes. “Because that’s a totally appropriate response for a boss when he sees an employee.”“I know,” Tony hung his head. “So bad about that. Transferred five offices now.” He nuzzled against Bucky’s shoulder, demanding comfort. Bucky was watching him carefully now. “So what happened to all those other guys?”“All gone.” Tony waved an arm. “They didn’t last.”Bucky was looking down again. And Tony started to get that same feeling he’d had at the office. That Bucky was about to say something he wouldn’t like. “Tony…”“Wait.” He held up a hand. “I know what you’re gonna say, and I get it, you’re not sure where this relationship is going, but I got news for you--”“Wait.” Bucky stopped him. “Relationship? Is that what you think this is?”Tony could almost hear his heart falling into the pit of his stomach.“Tony...this is only our first date. Relationship…” He looked downright skittish. “I don’t think you can really call it that…”“You ...don’t want a relationship,” Tony guessed from the scared, unhappy look on Bucky’s face.“And you do?” He almost looked angry, as though Tony were the last person he’d expect to want a relationship. “Well, hunbun, strictly speaking, we have been meeting regularly for sex for two months now. You’ve been to my apartment more than once, even slept over. So if it’s not a relationship, it’s something. You have to admit that much at least.” Didn’t he? Tony’s eyes begged. Please? Bucky was nodding, reluctantly, but he was nodding. “It’s...something.” He glanced at Tony. “I just didn’t expect…” He sighed. “You’re the last person I’d expect to demand a definition of what this is.”“What? Who’s demanding?” Tony raised his hands in surrender, nearly spilling his wine. “I’m just saying I like it...whatever this is, and I want it to continue. Am I alone here?” Surely not. Surely. The look Bucky was giving him was part kicked puppy, part frightened rabbit.“You don’t agree,” Tony guessed. Well, that was it then. Chalk up another fuck up, another failed relationship for old Tony.Bucky grabbed his arm before he could work himself up to a good tantrum. “I don’t--I don’t disagree,” he said. “I just… can’t we just go on having fun? Maybe more dates than booty calls, but...just have fun together, without having to call it anything?” Tony shrugged, still feeling defensive, rejected. Bucky tipped his chin up, forcing Tony to look at him. “Tony, I just came out of a five year relationship. Three months ago, I was planning my wedding.” He took a deep breath. “Getting into anything new this soon...it would be a rebound, and I don’t want that. For you or for Steve.”“Steve?” Tony could feel his hackles rising. “Since when were we talking about Steve?”Bucky was shaking his head, sighing. “I think he wants more, too.” He looked up. “But I just can’t give it to you, Tony. I just don’t have it in me.” He shook his head again. “Not now...maybe not ever.”Tony just watched him, feeling like that time Howard took his presents away on Christmas Eve. “You say that like she ruined you for the rest of us.” Contract killers were still a thing, right?Bucky shrugged. “Maybe she did.”And he knew damn well Bucky was on guys now not because she’d turned him gay, but because a woman would have remind him too much of her. “Hey.” Tony covered Bucky’s hand with his own. “She did not ruin you.”He was shrugging, shaking his head, disbelieving, feeling broken, useless.Tony knew that feeling all too well. “Come here.” He wrapped an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and tugged him close. “You are a sweetheart. You’re smart, you’re talented, you’re drop-dead gorgeous. Anyone in Manhattan would be lucky to have you. Okay?”Bucky hid his face in Tony’s shoulder. “So maybe you don’t feel up to anything long-term again. That’s understandable. You need some time. You need therapy--I’ve got several great doctors on speed dial, by the way. Just let me know when you’re ready.”Bucky almost laughed. “But don’t give up on us, okay?” Wait, us? Was he really suggesting Bucky should keep seeing that other guy? “And don’t give up on yourself.” He kissed Bucky’s hair. “You’re worth it.”Bucky wrapped both arms around Tony and clung. It was the first time he’d ever really opened up emotionally to Tony. And it scared the shit out of him. But that wasn’t the only reason Tony’s heart was racing.“You wanna go lie down?” he asked. Because this was really uncomfortable to try and do, sitting in Bucky’s lap.“Okay.” Bucky stood up, taking Tony with him, which was both insulting and thrilling.“Put me down, you cretin,” he demanded, but not before wiggling suggestively in Bucky’s arms. “Okay.” And he did. Tony grabbed him by the wrist and towed him in the direction he hoped was Bucky’s bedroom.“You’ve got a bedroom, right? With at least a mattress, I hope? Please tell me your life isn’t so sad that you sleep in a bag on the floor--” Ah, there it was. He tugged Bucky inside and turned to undress him.Bucky let him, just standing there, forlorn, quiet. But quiet wasn’t a state Tony was going to allow to continue. “You’ve got PJs?” Tony asked him. “Or, you know, we could pass on those.” He stroked his fingers up Bucky’s bare chest, smirking suggestively.Bucky merely shrugged. “No PJs? Or are you agreeing to my suggestions? Or do you actually sleep in the buff?” he leaned close to whisper, eyes sparkling with excitement. Bucky certainly slept without clothes when he was at Tony’s. But Tony’s apartment had a strict no-pants dress code.“Shorts on,” Bucky muttered. Why wasn’t he reacting? Participating? It was making Tony start to worry.“Alright, angel, I won’t strip you all the way down.” Though it was damned tempting. “Now go ahead and slide right under the covers, I’ll be right there.” Bucky did as he was told, looking more and more depressed.Without further ado, Tony started to ease out of his own clothes. “Ahhhhh, yes.” It felt good to get the suit off. And though he didn’t favor wearing clothes to bed, when in Rome… “Just gonna borrow something, you don’t mind, do you, sugar?” He grabbed a pair of boxer briefs out of Bucky’s dresser. He was a little slimmer in the waist than Tony, but they fit okay. The perks of being...less than tall.Then he crawled into bed with his poor depressed teddy bear. Talk of his ex always got him in a funk. “Come here, Bucky bear,” Tony said, opening his arms. “Come to Tony.”To his surprise, Bucky did, wrapping his arms around Tony and tangling their legs together. “See? This is what you need.” It’s definitely what Tony needs. He could probably sleep every night if he had his Bucky there to hold him like this.“Tony.”“Yes, angel?”“Why are you doing this?”He wasn’t sure how to take that. Had he given the impression that he wasn’t capable of such a thing? Or was Bucky expecting to have to pay for it somehow? “Because I want to--I’m allowed to want things that indirectly benefit me, too, you know,” Tony said, his hand stroking over Bucky’s shoulders. “And because...I suppose I might like you...at least a little bit,” he added more softly, pressing a soft kiss to Bucky’s hair. “And I know you’d do it for me.” Not that Tony was in the habit of doing nice things for people just because they were nice to him. Well, okay, maybe he was. But usually he repaid niceness with items of monetary value, not gestures of affection. Bucky was different. Bucky deserved better.His arms tightened around Tony. “It feels weird,” Bucky said. And he wasn’t wrong. But was weird a bad thing? Part of Tony felt like this was exactly what he’d been missing. It felt weird to suddenly find what you’d been missing, didn’t it? Like a that last washer you’d been looking for sliding into place somewhere you could feel but couldn’t see or touch.“Am I doing it wrong?” he asked. “I’m doing it wrong, aren’t I?”“No.” Bucky looked at him with a smile. “I’m just not used to being this close to you without…”Tony’s heart rate picked up. “You wanna fool around?” Speaking of needful things you could feel sliding into place...“A little,” Bucky admitted.“What’s a little?” Tony asked, rubbing up against Bucky. “Just oral? A little foreplay? Sex with our shoes on?”But Bucky seemed to want to show him instead of discuss it, reaching down for Tony’s dick and testing his interest level. “Can I blow you?” he asked.“Do you even need to ask? No, you don’t. Blow me. Please.” He’d stopped saying ‘god, I think I love you’ after the first week, when it had seemed truer and truer each time, and started to freak Tony out. But he still thought it. More and more, as Bucky’s lips wrapped around him and his tongue started to work even before Tony was fully ready. “Oh, god…” Whatever Bucky was doing, he was full and hard, and it made his legs kick involuntarily. Tony gripped his muscular shoulders, closing his eyes. “Oh, please fuck me,” he begged softly. “Please, please fuck me.”The lights were on, and true to New York form, Bucky’s bedroom windows had no blinds or curtains. As he bounced his way to ecstasy in Bucky’s lap, Tony happened to look out the window at the neighbors across the street. They were slow-dancing in their living room. In his mind, there was no music, just the soft footfalls of an old married couple. And he wanted that. All of a sudden, Tony wanted that. The old-age romance, the being part of a couple, the tender sweetness, intimate physical proximity that wasn’t purely carnal...Tony’s orgasm took him by surprise. Apparently his mind hadn’t been in it--which did happen, but not with Bucky--but his body clearly had been.“You okay?” Bucky asked him, because Tony’s eyes had glazed over, and one of his legs was still twitching.“Mmhmm,” Tony replied, suddenly groggy. What had he been thinking a minute ago? It felt important.“Was that...do you want more?” He sounded uncertain, having felt that Tony’s head wasn’t really in it. But Tony didn’t like that Bucky seemed to be working to please him. ‘Working’ being the objectionable word. Also that Tony was the only one whose pleasure Bucky seemed to think mattered. It went against his very nature, but Tony objected to that. For once, he really did.He reached up, touching Bucky’s cheek. “Did you come?” It showed how far away Tony’s mind had been that he hadn’t noticed.Bucky shrugged, uncomfortable. He hadn’t, then. And there was the distance that had been forming between them. Bucky’s commitment to their trysts had become more about Tony’s pleasure than their shared experience. “Oh, Bucky bear, why are you asking me if I’m done? You’re not here just to service me...are you? Surely you’re worth more than an expensive dinner and a carriage ride through central park?”He shrugged again. “I like to.”“Okay, well then I want you to listen, and listen good: If you’re not getting off, I’m not satisfied. Alright? Say it. I wanna know you get it.”Bucky made a face. “I’m not gonna say it, Tony.”“Come on.” Tony smirked. “Repeat after me: I, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes.”“I, Tony Stark.” Bucky had that stubborn jut to his jaw.Alright, if that’s how he was going to be. “Am the sexiest man alive.”“Am the sexiest man alive.” Bucky smirked.“And you are not allowed to sleep.” Tony wagged a finger at him.“And you’re not allowed to sleep,” Bucky repeated.“Until you come inside me.”“Till you…” But that seemed to put an abrupt end to the joke. “Oh, Tony…” Suddenly Bucky was all over him again, thrusting that big cock deep inside him, and plowing Tony until he was truly full. In fact, he did such a number on him that Tony was starting to tingle again by the end.“Oh, god, sugar, I just love your dick.” Tony rained kisses on Bucky’s jaw, his neck. “I love it. I know that sounds weird, but I don’t care. I just don’t.”“Then you get it.” How was he still going? Bucky gripped Tony’s hip, one of his legs, and repositioned.Oh, it hurt. The new angle hurt like hell, but in the best possible way. “Don’t stop,” Tony hissed.“Come on, Tony,” Bucky prompted. “Come for me, baby.”“No, I don’t want to,” he whined, gasping at every other thrust. “You’re mean. Hate you.”“So fuckin’ mean,” Bucky purred, jabbing him hard where he felt it most.“No...no!” Tony gripped the back of his neck, starting to writhe.“Oh, yeah.” Bucky pinched his nipples, hard, adding to the bloom of perfect pain.Tony’s entire body convulsed. His legs wrapped around Bucky. He thought he may even have kicked him once or twice. But it served him right. “I like making you come again,” Bucky grinned, collapsing against him, sweaty and proud. “You’re an animal,” Tony groaned. “Nobody loves you,” he mumbled. “Belong in the zoo.Bucky chuckled, pulling Tony close. He buried his face in the curve of Tony’s neck and shoulder. His hands stroked down Tony’s sides, dipping down to rub his pleasantly sore ass before settling on his hips. “Will you still be here tomorrow?” he asked, as Tony began to drift off.“Hell yes,” Tony told him. “And I take my breakfast in bed.”“What kinda breakfast?” Bucky asked.Tony smirked. “Surprise me.”Bucky kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for stayin’, Tony.”Tony stroked a hand over his hair, settled his arms around Bucky’s shoulders. “Anytime, babe.” And he really meant it, part of him desperately hoping it would become routine. He hated to think about his engineer knocking around this big empty apartment all alone, climbing into a cold bed to think about a life he would never have, thanks to someone who didn’t deserve him. “Any time.”As he started to drift off, Tony remembered he’d intended to tell Bucky how he felt tonight, try to claim him exclusively. “Mine,” was the most coherent thought he could give voice to, reaching out to pet Bucky with his eyes closed. “My Bucky. Stay.”Bucky chuckled. “Hey, I’m the one who lives here. It’s kind of a given.”“Good,” Tony told him, patting Bucky again. “Good. Mine.” Tony fell asleep feeling as though he’d accomplished something.
10315514	Bad Decisions	{ "Archive Warning": "Underage Sex", "Category": null, "Characters": "Jenny Blackner, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, John Winchester", "Fandom": "Supernatural", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by CertainlyHeisenberg", "chapters": "10/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-15T00:00:00", "words": "26,797", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe, Pre-Series, Spanking, Non-Consensual Spanking, Violence, Domestic Discipline", "Relationship": "Dean Winchester/Sam 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 }	It was a sunny June day in outskirts of Portland, Oregon. Nestled among the giant trees of the Pacific Northwest, sat a rundown, low rent motel called the Piney Grove Motel. Constructed at a time when land was cheap, the sprawling hotel had one level and stretched about half a block and boasted two parking spots per room. It sat humbly on the main road of a small town called Troutdale. Troutdale had been hit hard by the closure of aluminum foil plant, its main source of employment. A once vibrant and happy place, Troutdale began to stagnate. This shabby motel, refusing to see itself as it was, still operated with the customer in mind. Flowers still graced the pots at corner locations and hot coffee was available every morning after six AM. Troutdale, for all its misery, was known to hunters as one of the few dead spots. Where for some reason or another, supernatural things tended to avoid this town. The rent was cheap, the weather fair, and being so close to Portland, it was a good base camp. To the best that John Winchester could figure, this was one of the safest places to leave his boys. John had gotten a call from Bobby, who had sent Caleb, who had witnessed firsthand, the mess that had become of the Blackner Family. John, who did call Emily on occasion, had never once stopped in for a visit after the tragedy. John couldn’t bring himself to do it. John typically hated working with new hunters. He had enough on his hands trying to feed and train two growing boys. But he had taken a shine to Tom. Tom listened, worked hard, and rarely said anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary. Tom, like John, enjoyed the quiet. They worked together like a well-oiled and deadly machine. Tom had a particular focus and spelled success in the civilian world and survival in the hunter realm. He missed Tom. It was hard to go back to Virginia again. The Winchesters were once again in between moves. With most of their belongings in storage, the Winchester boys relaxed in that small motel room waiting for the return of their father. John had taken a quick and uncharacteristic plane trip Virginia. He had been gone three days. Three days the Winchester boys had enjoyed by exploring, playing in the Columbia River and visiting the local library. Dean, the eldest, sprawled out on a bed, was having a day dream about Amanda Nelson and half listening to a rerun of Saved by the Bell. His nine year old brother, Sammy, sat close to the lamp reading a book on medieval weapons. Both brothers knew full well that their father wanted them to have run three miles by the time he returned. Both had decided to play their cards to see if he would notice. True down time was a valued commodity in their family, it was best to take advantage of it no matter what the consequence. Their father, John, was a quick tempered man, who was a product of high expectations and purpose. This made him an excellent hunter and a dangerous enemy. Physically, John was a handsome man. Salt and pepper black curls framed a hard face with expressive green eyes. He could read a man before he could stick his hand out to shake. He could befriend anyone from a redneck to a CEO. And both would figure out quickly it would be a bad idea to cross him.A self-described drill sergeant, he had failings as a single parent. The philosophy of marines is break a man down to his core, until all he can see and all he wants is approval. Couple that with the devotion of a young son and you have Dean. Dean loved his father and was driven to his core to find approval from the old Marine. John’s youngest, Sammy, was more of product of his mother, or lack thereof. Dean had filled, sloppily, but devotedly, as surrogate mother after Mary had died. After Mary died, Dean filled the loss of her with a love of his baby brother. John demanded a lot of little Dean. He exceeded his expectations every time. John pushed Dean to be his best. This was a line that was hard to find as Dean pushed himself even harder. By thirteen, Dean was cocky, confident, strong and a strikingly good-looking young man. This would get him into lots of trouble as he tried to navigate the world by himself and for his brother. Sammy was a different story entirely. Small and scrawny, Sam was the runt of the family. If Dean worked to please John, Sammy worked to escape him. Sammy was a straight A student, in family that valued marksmanship over good marks. Sam was born with an independent streak. And a very obvious inability to keep his mouth closed. Sammy kept his brown hair long and over his eyes in an attempt to hide from the world. If you could see through the strands, green serious eyes would peer back. Taking in all that was around him. A car pulled up next to the motel room. A petite blonde woman in jeans and a tight black t-shirt stumbled out of the Impala. A girl in a short pink skirt and ponytail jaunted out of the car carrying a My Little Pony backpack. With a spring in her step, she hopped over to the motel door.It had been years since she had seen them. She remembered Sammy, he was about her age and cute. She also remembered the obnoxious older brother who teased her and ate a whole pie when her family had them over for Easter. She had been six years old. She had been looking forward to this.Things had gotten bad with her mom. Their money was running out and her mom couldn’t hold down a job. It had been a year since her mom had stopped talking to her. Well if she did talk it was to throw something, complain or demand a drink. At least she had Mrs. Ethel. Mrs. Ethel had taken them in and asked for little in return. Jenny read the newspaper to her in the morning and her mom was to do the cleaning and cooking. Jenny loved Mrs. Ethel but did not like how her mom stole money, curios, food, and anything else of value from the sweet blind woman. Jenny ended up taking care of the housework. She cooked and cleaned. Mrs. Ethel was so blind, she no idea Emily was not doing any work and Jenny dare not tell her. When John had come by out of the blue, he told her to pack for a month. She did what she was told. In her experience arguing with a hunter with that look in their eye was dangerous at best and deadly at worst. Jenny had very few things. Her face was red and nervous as she packed. Most of what she had had been left rendered unless by her last growth spurt. She found something that still fit. She looked in the mirror and almost felt normal. She put what little she had in her backpack and headed down stairs. John grabbed her bag without asking. “Sorry, Jenny, this is necessary.” To her horror he pulled out her clothes and decided none of them were practical. “Your about Sammy’s size, he’ll lone you a pair of jeans and few shirts. Go back upstairs and get something to occupy yourself with.” To her relief, he did not open her bag again.John had to go buy supplies. Jenny spent her time preparing meals for the old woman. Two meals where prepared for every day they would be gone. Mrs. Ethel had no one else. Her best friend Masha had promised to come by every other day and read to her and check up on things. Emily steadied herself by placing a hip on the hot car. She was a pretty woman, but disheveled and vain. She looked around unimpressed and examined her perfectly painted nails. “John, it’s going to be just you and me real soon. You think you can handle me?”Jenny ignored her mom, “Uncle John, is this it? Is Sammy inside?”John took a deep breathe in. This was a bad idea. There was no way out of it, but holy hell, this was a bad idea.“Yes, Jenny. That’s it. Dean and Sammy are waiting. Let’s head in,” John was rubbing his brow.Dean turned off the TV quickly. They both sat up at attention. Sammy couldn’t help but notice the familiar blonde staring with an anxious smile. Dean was quick to see how the girl avoided eye contact with him and kept her focus on Sam.Emily took a seat at the small dinette. “You got anything to drink John?” She blushed, “I mean, water or soda?” She shot John devious grin. “I have got to get her out of here soon.” John thought as his heart raced.“Dean, this is the situation. Pastor Jim is out of the country. Bobby is on a hunt in Canada. And Damn near everyone I call is unavailable. This is Jenny. You are in charge of Sammy and Jenny while I take care of Jenny’s mom. We are going to have to deep in to the Denali Nation Forest in Alaska. Dean, this is going to take a while. Bobby should call when he comes home. Expect this adventure to take at least a month.”Dean tried to keep a straight face but an incredulous look surfaced. His eyes widened as he looked around the room.“I know, Dean. This is a lot to take in. I paid for the hotel room until the end of the month. Here is $400 for food.”“You don’t let that little bitch walk all over you, you hear?”“Emily, here is my canteen. Go get in the damn car.”She caught the canteen and swung her small hips out the door.“Jenny, I am sorry I have to do this, but your mom is sick. I need a Native American Shaman to exercise the spirit that took hold of her. My boys are good boys. They are definitely going to be on their best behavior,” He took a second to look both of them to receive a nod.“Dean, it’s the summer, when we normally train the hardest. Looks like that is on hold. Make sure you get your runs in everyday and stretch. I will know if you slacked off the first time we go out.” “Yes, Sir.” “You can go around town together during the day. Be back before dark. Keep Jenny and Sammy safe. Keep them with you Dean. Don't do anything stupid.”“Yes, sir.”“The shot guns, holy water and knives are stored in the closet. Do not play with them Sammy. Let’s not have a repeat of last week.”“Yes, sir.” Sam said blushing.“Good… Jenny. Sammy. Dean is in charge. You both follow his orders like they were mine”With that John locked the door, went to the car and drove off.“Oh. My. GOD! Thank you!” Dean said as he threw himself back on the empty bed and closed his eyes.Jenny looked like she would burst. “Sammy! Do you remember me?” Jenny threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. Sam blushed as she pulled herself back to foot of his bed. Her bright blue eyes shining as she waited for an answer.Sam started to open his mouth when Dean chimed in. “I remember you! Jenny! You are the one who peed on the dining room chair on Easter! Man, your Dad was pissed. Where the hell is he?”“He died a year after that on a hunt. Thank you for reminding me of all those happy memories. Still a shit aren’t you, Dean.” She practically spit.“Whoa, sorry.”Sam started to remember. He spent the whole day with her. He had made her laugh so hard milk came out of her nose and she peed at dinner. She had been mortified. Especially when her dad pulled her upstairs for a spanking."Excuse us, apparently I have not taught my daughter proper table manners.”Dean winced at the sounds of the little girl’s yelps that eventually turned into choking cries.Sam quickly pulled the chair into the kitchen and started cleaning it when Jenny’s mom came by and put a soft hand on his back. “Thank you son,” she said as she removed the paper towels from his hands and started cleaning it herself. “Jenny has been having a hard time lately. We finally found a home to settle down in. She has had a hard time keeping friends. Since Tom’s mom was possessed and did those horrible things. Jenny feels like she lives a lie. Like we know some huge secret we should be warning people about but don’t… It’s just great to see her smile again.” Jenny’s mom was sweet and beautiful. Just like he imagined his mother had been. She smelt like a lavender field and wore a yellow sundress with a yellow ribbons in her blond hair. She smiled like a French actress. A gentle sweet smile with a hint of suppressed pain.“We’ll leave this outside to dry.” They went back to their seats and ate quietly while John and Bobby Singer tried to make polite conversation about politics. Tom came down stairs and poured himself some whiskey at the small bar in the corner. And then two more glasses after motioning to Bobby and John and receiving the silent and slight nod from both.Dean and Sam were ushered to the backyard play after dinner. They swung slowly on the small swing set and watched the trees turn dark as the sun went down. Jenny emerged smiling shyly and walked toward them.“Jenny you have made my Easter! That was hilarious. Not spanking part. Or the peeing part, the fact that my brother made someone laugh hard enough to pee was priceless.”Jenny’s face turned red with embarrassment and hate. “Dean, shut the hell up.”“Be careful, don’t let your dad catch you using that language.” Dean said smiling, trying to be charming.“Dean, shut the hell up.” said Sam.“Touchy,” Dean had lost all control over his mouth. “Jenny, tell your mom thanks for the Easter baskets… Man, she is beautiful. I mean, really, how is she your mom?”Jenny’s eyes welled up with tears and she disappeared again.“You’re a jerk, Dean,”That was the last time the Winchester boys would see her before today. Now, she sat noticeably taller, fuller and so happy to Sam. Her pink sweater hugged her emerging figure.“This tramp is going after my little brother…Sweet.” Dean thought to himself. Sam smiled back at the attention.“Wow, it’s great to see you Jenny! How have you been?”“Well, my mom kind of lost it after Dad died. She got really sad and we lived off the life insurance for a while. Then she decided to try and contact him. You know make sure he moved on and wasn’t stuck. She got into some weird shit and dyed her hair and wore crazy clothes and looked like a dirty hippie. I guess the chanting and the pot left her open to some sort of spirit. Then she turned into a mega bitch. She started slutting out and her temper went through the roof. I thought she was just going through menopause.”“Your mom slutted out? That is awesome.”“Seriously, Fuck off much?” She said barely looking at him. Dean was used to girls being nice to him. He couldn’t wrap his head around how she picked Sam over him. From then on Dean let them have space. Partly because both of them were so enamored with each other they barely acknowledged him and more because both of them gave him so much attitude. Jenny made every effort to shut down any conversation he started. “I guess the bitchiness rubbed off.” Dean thought to himself.They walked around town. Sam and Jenny talked about everything. The supernatural, the mundane, books, school. Finally, they arrived back at the motel.“I know I should take them with me but I need some time to think,” Dean thought to himself. “You guys stay here. I am going to go get us some hamburgers. You okay with that Jenny?”“That would be awesome, Dean.” She smiled sweetly.“Don’t leave, I am serious Sammy,”“I know Dean, and its Sam.” Sam said rolling his eyes when he turned to Jenny.“Fuck this,” thought Dean. “This is going to be a long summer, I almost miss Dad. There is no way he would let those little bitches talk to him that way. I’ll talk to Sammy, maybe apologize to the siren. Maybe she’s evil?” At that point lopping off her head seemed to be an easier solution than getting her to be nice to him.He ordered five hamburgers. Maybe she’d only eat one.The thought crossed his mind that his dad had come back and would tear into him because he left those brats by themselves. Goddamnit. Sammy was a monster magnet. No joke. It wasn’t hard to see the coincidences add up. That boy attracted trouble. And not the kind of trouble Dean like. The kind that required weapons to fend off. That was their fucking luck. Dean took off at a full sprint. Two blocks later and panting, he reached the motel door. As he took out his key, he heard a blood curdling scream coming from behind the door. He flung the door open and saw black smoke trying to pushing its way into Sammy’s mouth.“Sammy!” Dean grabbed the holy water and salt and threw them into the smoke. The smoke retracted and headed back toward a Ouija board in the middle on the floor. “Oh Hell No.”Sammy fell backward and hit the back of his head on the floor. “You stupid, kid.”Dean grabbed his lighter fluid and the board. He grabbed Jenny by the arm and placed her in a chair at the kitchenette. “Don’t Move.”Sammy shook his head and came too. “You. Park your ass on the bed and wait for me to come back.”Dean slammed the door. “What is he going to do?” said Jenny in a shaky voice.“He’s going to go burn the board. Then he’ll come back and then you don’t want to know.” Sam’s voice trailed off. There was a finality to his voice, she knew not to ask any more questions and to keep quiet.Dean stomped behind the motel. “Goddamnit. I hope this loses whatever the hell that thing was,” he said as poured lighter fluid on the board. “What the fuck was he thinking?”His stomach dropped at the thought of what he had to do next. Dean pulled out a lighter and torched the Ouija board. He waited until the thing was nothing but ashes. His first girl. Jesus. He was going to have to do this in front of his first girl. Day fucking one. He tried think of a way out of it. He should call Dad. He’d beat the tar out of both of them. Probably all of them. And that bitch’s mom would be no closer to getting better. She’d probably stop trying to walk all over him, though. And where the fuck did they get this damn thing. Hunter’s kids knew not to fuck with crap like that. The board smoldered. He stomped it out with his boots and poured the rest of the holy water on it.He trudged back to the room. Rolled his shoulders back and took in a deep breath.“Okay, where the fuck did this come from and what made you brain dead enough to try to use it.”“I brought it.” Jenny said with as much bravery as she had at the moment.“Are you fucking kidding me? You almost go get my brother killed or worse. You may have opened a portal to God knows where. I have no idea how safe we are. What the hell were you trying to do?”“Talk to my dad,” she said defensively.“Get the fuck in the bathroom. I need to have a talk with my brother.”“It was my fault Dean. Don’t hurt him.”“Don’t you worry… you’re next... I see you eyeing that door.” Dean’s eyes widened. “Before you even think about making a break for it, understand that my entire life has been spent learning how to track you down. I doubt you’d even make it out the parking lot. Now get in the bathroom!”She jumped up and tripped over her feet trying to scuttle into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.“Please Dean, don’t do this.”“I would have overlooked breaking curfew, blowing the money, disrespect…” Dean looked his brother square in the eyes. “But almost get yourself killed and we use Dad’s method.”“You know the drill Sammy. Drop ‘em and give me your belt.” Dean sat down at the end of the bed.“What?” Sammy said in a whisper. His eyes already swelled with tears.“Are we having an argument about this?”“No, Sir.” The response was automatic. Sam fumbled with his jeans and pulled his belt through its loops, his head and his eyes cast down.Dean pulled the boy over his lap. Damnit, he hated this, let’s get this over with. Dean pulled his hand back and began spanking his little brother.“Why are we here, Sammy?”“Because I played with a Ouija board,” he sobbed.Dean had a hard time not stopping to shake the kid. “You know what is out there. Everything you’ve seen, BE MORE CAREFUL.” Every word he punctuated a series of hard slaps followed by more cries by Sam. “Okay Sam, how old are you?”Sammy didn’t want to answer. “Nine.”“Okay, that’s how many you’re getting. You don’t have to count.” Sammy buried his head in his arm deeper.Dean rolled his brother off his lap and positioned him over the bed. The belt left deep red stripes that caused Sammy’s voice to jump five octaves and start to crack. He did not even care that Jenny could hear him. The place he had to go did not include her right now.After he was done he pulled the kid's pants up. Sammy in tears, cried falling into his brother’s arms. “It’s okay, Sammy,” he said softly, “Please for the love of God, do not do that again." Dean held him until Sammy let go. The boy crawled into bed, Sam trying desperately to not think about what Dean was going to do Jenny.“Oh, Fuck. I have to punish this damn kid…Solve one problem at a time.” Dean thought to himself. He opened the door to the bathroom. Jenny was there. Glare fixed in her eyes and feet planted firmly. This was not going to happen. “You leave me alone, Dean Winchester! I swear to god I will scream and this whole motel will hear it!”Dean grabbed her arm and shoved his wallet in her mouth. “Bite down on this, you drop it, you get twice what Sammy got.” Fear and panic set in and she did what she was told. She bit down on the leather wallet as the tears fell down her face. Her resolve faded and strength dissolved in favor of self-preservation.He led her to the bed opposite Sammy’s.“Dean, don’t do this.”“Sammy, do we need to have this conversation again?”“No.” His no, was small and defeated. With that Dean pulled the girl over his lap. With one arm pressed against him and the other pinned to her back, she felt completely helpless. Her thin pink skirt provided little to no protection against the upcoming punishment.Dean didn’t bother talking to her. He was trying to get this over with as well as to impart a lesson. His frustration about the slights during the day fueled a few more slaps. They came metered and predictably, until she resigned her fight and silently sobbed. Dean rolled her off his lap and positioned her over the bed. She looked back and shook her head. Her bright blue eyes pleaded and drool fell from her mouth, the wallet still in place.“You are about the same age as Sammy, we’ll keep that number. Hopefully this will teach you to keep yourself and my brother out of trouble.” A miserable whine tried to make itself heard.The muffled screams came through the wallet with each blow. Dean allowed himself to come back from the distance to look at her. Seven. He looked at her back. Her sweater and shirt had come up. The tag from her skirt was visible. 6X. He looked up. Her blonde hair was matted in the ponytail. As she cried she bared her teeth against the wallet. A black spot was visible on her canine, it was a nasty cavity. Fuck, this girl was a mess. He dropped Sammy’s belt. She spit out the wallet and let it fall on the floor. She moved like a wounded animal towards the pillows and burrowed into the covers.Dean stood paralyzed. His dad had taught them to notice the signs. He had quizzed them to notice details. What color was the car in the third driveway? What where the restaurants they passed. How many kids where there on the playground? Be aware of your environment. What kind of things where in the house they just visited. Books? Music? Religious items? Her shoes, the rubber was worn. The big toes of her shoes were raised because her feet were too big for them. He had seen that skirt before. Easter two year ago. The skirt was short because it was too small for her. The My Little Pony backpack had nothing in expect the worn Ouija board. She missed her dad. She missed being taken care of. Being a hunter’s kid was far easier than being a ten year old living with an abusive spirit. His dad was hard on them but loved them. He made sure their teeth were clean, their clothes fit, they were fed, fit, strong and safe. If he forgot because a hunt, Dean took care of it.Shortly after Dean dropped the belt, Sammy and Jenny fell into a deep sleep.He had to fix this. He had one thing going for him, after a spanking Sammy was usually very compliant for a few days. He imagined the same would be true for Jenny. The hamburger bag lay on its side on the table. He took out a burger and ate it slowly, putting the rest in the fridge. He slowly counted the money, knowing there should be exactly $394. Definitely not enough to keep them fed, and to cloth and fix this kid up. He sure as hell couldn’t work and keep an eye on both of them. They either needed the perfect mark or he needed to hustle pretty big. Unfortunately they were going to be there too long to hustle. Guys who lost big to a kid normally tried to come find them and get it back. He didn’t want to spend the whole month in the motel room. He had not given up on this summer being Epic. Dean grabbed the brochures and the map of Portland. Across town there was a beautiful park in the middle of a business district. Perfect. Dean smiled for the second time that day. Dean crawled into bed with Sammy. He laid on his back but his hands behind his head and schemed.Dean got up early, took a shower, got dressed and combed his hair. It was Saturday. He turned on the TV and put out some cereal and milk for the kids.“Okay, kids we are skipping PT today but it is time to get up.” Dean was smiling and pretty excited to spill his plan.“What is PT?” Jenny asked dazed.“Physical training. But you little lady, do not have the proper gear. Go ahead and grab some breakfast. Sammy, you hop in the shower.”Sam wanted to correct him about his name but last night was too fresh in his mind. He jumped up and grabbed some clothes and headed into the small bathroom.Jenny pulled herself out of the bed slowly. “You know, I didn’t mean to hurt him... I try to use the damn thing all the time. That has never happened before. I’m sorry.”“It’s okay, you paid your dues. All is forgiven.” He walked up and gave her a hug which she surprisingly accepted. Then towering over her, he put his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her eyes. “But I do need to talk to you. You are going to have to let me and Sammy help you. Sweetie, you are kind of in rough shape.” Jenny looked away and nodded solemnly. “Eat some grub. We got a long day ahead of us.”She fixed herself a bowl of cereal and ate it standing up. Sam came out of the shower and entered the room with a bashful hesitant smile. Jenny had finished and slowly headed to the bathroom.“Wait.” Dean said with some authority. Like a deer in headlights she looked back at him. “Lay down on the bed.” She looked at him quizzically. Then winced at the thought. “On your stomach.” He said lightly blushing.Dean turned on the TV and pulled two combs out of his back pocket. “Awesome! Western! The Duke!” Ironically, it was McClintock. “I told you we were going to help you.” Jenny lay on stomach facing the TV. Dean handed a comb to Sam, who looked very confused. Dean sat down next her pulled out his knife and cut the ponytail out of her hair. Dean found one of the mats and gently worked the hair free. Sam nodded his head and found another one to work on. Dean had gotten mats out of his dad’s hair after long hunts, normally because of debris and sleeping on the ground. He knew to hold the hair tight and gently comb it out. It took them a while but her blonde hair was finally straight again.“Alright kid, hit the showers.”She smiled at both of them. “Thanks,” then she disappeared into the bathroom.“Okay, what the hell is going on, Dean.”“Your girlfriend is in shit shape.”Sammy blushed, “She’s not my girlfriend! But, I know… no clothes, no essentials, tight shoes.”“I thought about hustling but…”“We’d get caught or they would try to hunt you down. No unnecessary attention. So, what’s the plan? Salvation Army? Goodwill? I might be able to sweet talk some preacher.”“That would be the best way to get picked up by CPS.”“What then?”“I got this plan… just convince her to go along with it.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “What the hell are you planning Dean?”“A little bit of mischief followed by a little bit of rapscallionary”“That is not a word and yeah, sounds like we are going to jail.”“Little Brother, you know me. Trust me.”Sam inhaled and shrugged then nodded. “Okay, where are we going?”“Downtown! Jenny, time to un ass and go!”It was close to 11. Dean gave everyone a hamburger and shoved the last one in his coat pocket. “Awe, gross. What the hell, Dean?”“All part of the plan, Sammy, all part of the plan.”The walk was long. Dean walked ahead. Humming “Breaking the Law.” They found a pastoral oasis in an urban jungle. It was call Simmons Botanical Garden. Large office buildings and apartments surrounded the maze of foreign trees and exotic shrubs. Dean found a bush and dropped the hamburger discreetly. An open field stood between the mass of shrubs and small bench. An older lady was struggling with a tiny white dog. She tied the struggling animal to the leg of the bench. She did not see Dean disappear to the next section of the park. Dean sent Sam and Jenny to play with the dog. “Can we pet her?” asked Sam slightly embarrassed as he knew Dean had marked this lady. Her gaudy jewelry and Channel suit had made her an easy target.“Oh, of course young man! Her name if Gigi,” She said smiling. She had been trying to take out a small cucumber sandwich and eat it without her pants leg being chewed and pulled on by her puppy. Sam sat next to where the lease was loosely tied to the bench. The leash came untied with a few quick kicks as Sam played with the Gigi. Jenny sat down and called the puppy over to her. The puppy darted toward her but feeling no slack from the leash, high tailed across the field. Sam and Jenny fell over themselves to catch her. The lady dropped her sandwich and ran yelling after her. “Oh, get her! Get her! My Gigi! She won’t make it on her own!” As Dean suspected, she left her purse. He took the opportunity to find her wallet and select one of the credit cards in the back of the neatly organized array. After putting the wallet back in her purse, Dean joined the hapless party trying to catch a nimble and agile ball of fluff. “Wilson! Nancy! Where have you been?” Dean said as he ran over to help. “I am so sorry! I am looking after these too for the summer. Hope they were not any trouble.”Sammy emerged from the brush with a panting dog who licked her lips happily. “I don’t know how she got loose. Naughty Gigi! Thank you for bringing her back. I don’t know what I would do without her.” The woman glanced back and sighed with relief at the sight of her purse far from reach. She then buried her face in Gigi’s fur. “Of course! They were very well behaved. Thank you so much kids.”“Thanks Ma’am, I think it’s time we headed back home, kids. You have a great day.” Dean flashed his smile and Sam swears to this day that she blushed. After they had gotten far enough away. Dean smiled. He had gotten away with it. Damn. It felt good. “We are going to the mall! Thank you… Mrs. Bradford!” “Dean, Heart? Really?” “What? Nancy Wilson is hot.”“What Hell just happened there?” Jenny asked feeling really out of the loop.“The less you know, the better off you’ll be. Let’s get some lunch on Mrs. Bradford and get you fit for combat.”The next couple of hours consisted of Dean and Sammy trying to navigate the female clothing section at Macy’s. Dean complained about how utterly nonfunctional female clothing was. Sam had a hard time figuring out what to do with his hands while Dean rifled coarsely through the clothes. Sturdy jeans, jacket, four gray t-shirts, sensible shoes, and the rest he assigned to Jenny. “Find some damn under things. A few under things.” The sales clerk did not think twice about taking the teen’s card. “It’s my mom’s,” Jenny lied. The task was accomplished and then Dean bought him and Sammy new boots similar to the ones they had on. Most importantly Dean found a small duffle with a pony on it. Hopefully Dad would not notice Jenny’s incredible fast growing luggage. The thought made him shutter slightly. The clothes were shoved into the bag and Jenny excused herself to the dressing room to change. While Jenny was in the dressing room, Sam asked “Do you think Dad will find out?” “No idea, but I figure he can only beat my ass so much before it becomes criminal. Soooo…fuck it.”“Famous last words, Dean, famous last words... Hey, do you think Mrs. Bradford will get in trouble for this?” Sammy said feeling guilty. “Nope, she is racking up the points at some place called… Crabtree and Evelyn? Whatever that is it… sounds kinky. She’ll probably have a great time.” “Hey, Dean?” “Yeah?” “Any chance I could… maybe… take Jenny out for dinner?” “Depends on number of séances you plan to have.” “Dean.” “Yeah sure, seriously come back before dark. I have no idea what hell that was that came out of that board.” “Deal.” Sam smiled trying to suppress his glee. “Let’s head back, you need to take a shower you reek!” Dean ruffed Sammy’s hair. Jenny came out in a grey t-shirt, jeans and combat boots carrying the duffle. Sam and Dean gave her an approving nod.Next they hit a drug store. “Get some essentials, I am serious, essentials.” Dean said firmly. Jenny kept her head down and stocked up on toothpaste and the like. She snuck in a candy lip gloss. Dean did not seem to mind. “Nice, Hunter material.” Dean gave an approving nod as he paid with the credit card. Dean checked his watch, 3:15. He dropped her off at a dentist office. Then took Sammy for ice cream. Dean was relieved to Sammy to himself, even if was for a few hours. “Dude! How weird is this? Can you fucking believe Dad left us alone for this long? Most of the time it sucks. You never know when he’s coming home and how much hell we are going to catch when he is. But this. This is living!” Two hours later, Dean and Sammy were in the waiting room. Jenny came out smiling. The dentist talked to Dean, who introduced himself as Lars Bradford. Lars explained that he was taking care of his hillbilly cousin over the summer. The story was barely believable but Dean’s confidence filled in the gaps. “Yeah, of course, we will try to train her to brush and floss. But you know she is barely civilized.” The dentist was disturbed enough to hurry them out of the office with a toothbrush and floss.“Thank you, Dean. Seriously this was really nice of you, no one has done anything...”Dean cut her off, “It’s done. As Dad would say, you’re tactically fit. It’s kind of a compliment where we come from. Let’s get back to the motel.”As they started off for the long walk home. Dean had intentionally picked an area of town far enough away that they would not be spotted again. This was the last day he intended to use the card. It was too much to risk the month of freedom he had planned. Tomorrow they would load up on snacks and pizza and watch HBO the whole day. The next day he planned to hit the beach. Maybe find a friend or two of the female variety.The tweens had their showers and got ready. Dean handed Sam a twenty and reminded him of the time. As they left, Dean took a deep breath in and rolled around on the motel bed. He felt awesome. They had gotten away with everything! He did not need to worry about anything except keeping Jenny from getting pregnant. Fireworks would go on sale soon. The beach, the city, and the girls! After a while his stomach started to growl. Dean chowed the rest of the cereal and milk, then remembered the credit card. He ordered a two pizzas. After the pizza guy delivered the pies, he made his way out to the coke machine. He tried to put in a dollar but it kept coming back. He pulled out the credit card. As he cussed the machine and gave it a kick, he felt someone watching him. A police officer came up behind him. He put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “That your card young man?”Dean froze. “Of course not, it’s my mom’s.” Dean looked the guy over. About 5’8, stocky, fit, brown hair and cold eyes. Dean had no idea if he could take him down in fight. The uniform looked real. This was going to get bad fast.“Huh, let’s go check with her and make sure it’s okay for you to be out after dark with her card.”“What the hell is that?” The man looked behind him and Dean bolted. The man was extremely fast and overcame Dean quickly. Pinned to the ground, the officer zip tied Dean’s wrists together behind his back. “Let’s take a walk to your room and see if we can figure this out.”When they got back to the room, the officer knocked on the door, then opened the unlocked door. He looked around. “Excuse me, anyone home?” As he surveyed the room, he smiled. “Looks like it’s just you. When your parents going to be back?”“They went to dinner, they are going to be home any minute.”The officer closed the motel door and locked it. A chill when down Dean’s back. The man threw Dean face first on the bed. “Holy shit, man. What the fuck?” With his hands behind his back Dean’s mind raced to try and find leverage enough to take this monster out. The officer ran his hands up and down Dean’s jeans. Maybe he was checking for weapons?“Maybe I should teach you some manners, boy.” The man gave Dean’s ass a slow pat.“Woah, maybe you could buy me dinner first, Cletus.” Dean attempted to use his legs to pinwheel himself up. The man caught him pulled him over lap. The man gave Dean a set of jarring swats so hard he exhaled a panicked yell. This hurt worse than Dad’s famous Winchester spankings. “Where the fuck was Sammy?” Dean thought to himself, trying to find a way out. Dean bucked his hips and kicked his legs. “Get off of me you fucking Perv!” Dean screamed. “You need to keep quiet little boy.” He rolled Dean on to his back, his arms pinned behind him, his legs press to the bed by the large body of the office. Dean threw himself up, head butting the man in the face as he tried to lean down.The man drew back his arm and hit Dean in the face. Stunned, Dean looked up. The man’s eyes flashed. “Fucking shifter! You are a Goddamn fucking pervy ass shifter!” Dean’s mouth was bleeding. The man narrowed his eyes and punched Dean in the stomach. “You’re a hunter’s kid! This is my lucky day times two! Did your Mommy and Daddy leave you here all alone to go fight the bad things that go bump in the night? Too bad they didn’t know about me,” the monster landed another blow to Dean’s stomach. Dean licked the blood from his teeth and smiled. “I don’t know if you know this, but your breath… it’s like a dead cat rotting in a septic tank.” The monster struggled with his pants and pulled out a very erect penis. “Dude, I am not impressed.” Dean said smirking. “You little shit!” Dean tried one more time to head butt the man, but the man pushed his left forearm against Dean’s collar bone pressing him into the bed, while the right hand fumbled with Dean’s jean zipper.“I am going to fuck you for every time your parents wasted one of us, little prince.”“Seriously, they aren’t that good at hunting…” Dean said as he began to panic.At that moment, they both heard a key unlock the motel door. “Sorry, I’m late…Holy Shit!” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- At that moment, they both heard a key unlock the motel door. “Sorry, I’m late…Holy Shit!”“Sammy grab Pastor Jim’s knife.” Sam understood. Sam grabbed the knife from the closet, instead of handing it off, Sam threw the knife into the monster’s back. Sam’s aim was perfect. He hit mark and body fell forward. The body convulsed and spasmed. {Later it would be determined that the victim’s heart had been pierced by a red hot silver blade. His sudden death was caused by internal bleeding.} The silver reacted with the monster’s skin to cauterize the wound, surprisingly, the bleeding was minimal. Dean struggled to get the thing off of him. Sam rushed over to help.“Looks like Dad shouldn’t have wailed on me so hard for playing with knives.” Sam really wanted to say, feeling very proud of himself. One look at Dean, who was buttoning his jeans told him now was not the right time.*************He couldn’t help but remember.It was a beautiful April Saturday. Dean was inside sitting at the kitchen table. Cleaning the guns for the second time this week and shifting and squirming uncomfortably in his chair. He had skipped sixth period to have a cigarette with Amanda Nelson. She was an adorable Asian girl. Her father chained smoked and did not notice when his teenage daughter stole packs at a time. She had used the cigarettes as bait to lure Dean to the woods behind the school. Little did she know that it wasn’t needed and lead to additional consequences from his father. A call home Saturday morning from the teacher who had caught them had sealed his fate.Sam was so excited, he was practicing knife throws as gift to his Dad. Dean was always so good at everything he put his mind to. Sammy always got there but was always a few steps behind. Sammy wanted knives to be his expertise. He had been at it secretively for months now. Today, he practiced with every knife in the house.There was nothing else to do. Dean was inside with a long list of chores Sammy was not allowed to help with. He was forbidden from even touching the knives, but after his dad saw how good he was, Sammy was sure Dad wouldn’t care. Almost sure…Sam had found a big piece of wood and had drawn a vampire on it. A giant dorky Bela Lugosi Dracula because the real ones were much too scary. Big Xs were painted on the body of the vampire at the neck and the heart. He knew you had to cut the head off a vampire but from the stories, knife to the neck definitely slowed the thing down. Also stabbing anything in the heart was a good start.Dad had great knives. He was trying to get a feel for them all. A book from the library taught him that the smaller more balanced knives were easier to throw. A spinning knife, while looking awesome, was not the best at stabbing the target. He had gotten a few cuts on his hands but none that were very deep. Today, he had 12 hits on the Xs. The bull's-eye marks were beginning to show a lot of wear. He was becoming a Winchester.Sam was pulling the one of the knives out of the vampire’s heart when he heard the loud roar of the Impala come to a halt. He then heard Dad opening and closing the car door. Sammy froze. Dad was supposed to being working at the shop all day. This was not good.“Sammy! Get your ass over here RIGHT NOW!!!” Sammy dropped the knives and ran inside.“Yes, Sir?”“Where the hell are all the knives, Sammy? Pastor Jim called the shop. He needs help and I have to look for my damn weapons? Where the hell are they?”“Outside Sir.” Sammy said looking at his shoes.“Dean, new detail. Go outside the collect all the damn knives and clean them as fast as you can. I will come help after I have a conversation with your brother’s behind.”“Dad! You don’t understand! I..” "Get upstairs, boy!" "Dad if you could come outside.."“Sammy, are you arguing with me?" "No, Dad, Listen!""I think you have just earned yourself some time with my belt, boy.”“But, Dad!”“Get the hell upstairs before you make this worse!”“YES, SIR!” Sammy yelled incredulously, giving an exaggerated salute. Then he stomped up the stairs making as much noise with his thick boots as he could.John looked over to where Dean had been sitting. The spot had been abandoned minutes ago. He was so angry. He tried to calm himself with a few breaths, then decided he would really have in part a lesson today. What the hell he doing? Playing with the weapons by himself? John let his boots fall hard on the wood stairs. The sound sent shivers up Sammy’s spine. Maybe the salute was a bad idea. John entered the room, belt in his hand. He then put the cursed thing on the dresser.“Sammy, when I give you an order I expect you to follow it. When I tell you that weapon training is dangerous and you are not allowed to train without me, I expect you to listen. Do you understand why I am going to give you a spanking?”“Yes, Sir.”“Take ‘em down, Sammy.” John sat on Dean’s bed and patted his knee. Sammy’s jeans fell as scuttled over to his father, eyes on the floor. John moved the boy over his knee pulling down the boxers. Sammy felt his heart skip a beat.“Dad?”“We are not going to have an argument about a spanking are we?”“No, Sir.” Sammy said miserably.Tears were already welling in his eyes. The slaps at first just jolted him forward, then gradually picked up speed and force. John worked to obtain a solid red color across the small bottom. Sammy was screaming and pleading before John stopped.“Please Dad! Please Dad! It’s enough! It’s enough!” As John stopped he picked the boy up and placed him over his own bed. Sammy remember about the promise of the belt and started to openly sob.“Dad, no!” “I know Sammy. But a spanking is supposed to hurt. This one is too remind you that weapons are not for playing with. It is to keep you safe.” John paused for emphasis.“How old are you Sammy?”Sammy did not want to answer. “…Eight, Sir.”“That is how many you are getting. I need you to count this time.”John folded his belt over and drew back his arm. The belt hit Sammy right in the middle of his behind and stung Sammy like nothing he had felt before. Sammy broke position and skittered away from the bed toward the wall. “Get back there, boy, before I decide we aren’t counting that one.” Sammy scuttled back over to the bed, sobbing, “One, Sir.” The next one hit his sit spot. “Ah! Two, Sir!” Sammy, thinking about the unfairness of the punishment he was receiving, lost his bracing and the next blow propelled him forward and caught him of guard. “Three, Sir,” Sammy said quickly. John must have decided to take mercy on the boy or was just trying to get out of the house to help Pastor Jim, because the remaining five blows came in quick succession. “Four, Sir… Ah, five, Sir,….Six..hhhh, Sir….Seven, Sir,… Dad! …Eight, Sir!”“Okay, son. It’s over.” John collected the boy in his arms and allowed him to sob for a little while. John turned his boy to face him. “I really hope this is a good reminder,” John said as he gave Sammy’s bottom a small pat. “Ahhh! Dad!”“That’s good news. Be good for your brother. I trust both of you have reminder enough to behave while I am gone.”“Yes, Sir.”“Good boy. I will see you in a couple of hours. There is some left over chili for you boys. Be good.”“Okay…” the word barely came out threw the tears. John got up and vanished out the door. Sammy began to sob loudly, mourning the loss of his accomplishment, his pride and feeling the throbbing painful reminder in his behind.Dean had cleaned all twenty knives and put them in the case. One he had to fish out of the neighbor’s tomato plants. Another one the kitchen knives he had to throw out as the tip had broken off in the vampire.“Dad! Dad! You would not believe..!”“Dean, get back to the guns boy!”“But Dad! Sammy..!”“Dean, whatever it is, it can wait. See you in a couple hours.”“But Dad!”“Do I need to have the same conversation with you as I did with Sammy?”“No, Sir, see you soon.”Dean waited until he heard the Impala drive, then raced to their bedroom. Sammy was huddled face down in a pile of blankets. Dean knelt beside the bed and placed a warm hand on Sammy’s back.“I saw what you did. That was fucking amazing, Sammy! How far away were you standing?”“As far as the big oak, as close as the rusty paint can,” Sammy said managing a smile.“That is awesome, bro. I’m sorry Dad licked you for it.”“It’s not fair. It was going to be a birthday present.” Sammy choked on a sob, “He would not shut up to hear it.”“Next time let me in on it. I could have protected you or warned you. Or hell, told you taking all of the knives out at once was a bad idea.”“You can’t save me from Dad all the time.”“I can try.”“I hope I can save you one day.”“Hope you never have to Bro.”Dean scooted on to Sammy’s bed and allowed him to rest his head on his chest. With his head nuzzled into Dean's chest, Sammy breathed in his brother's familiar sent and felt safe again. Dean wrapped his arm around his brother and ran his fingers through Sammy’s hair and wished he could somehow take away the pain.*****************************************It was ten o’clock on Tuesday night, the motel was dead. Dean and Sammy drug the body behind the motel. Dean pulled out the knife and wiped the blood off on Officer Child Molester’s uniform. The police would not ask too many questions about some creep impersonating an officer. Even if that creep really looked uncannily like the real one.As they started to head back, Dean vomited and began to shake. Sammy pulled him up and helped him walk back. When they got back to the motel room Jenny was cleaning up the blood on the floor with some paper towels. The part of the comforter that had blood was soaking in the sink, while the rest of it draped over the counter flowed over onto the floor. It had the same posture as Dean as he leaned on his little brother’s shoulders.Jenny had marked the offending bed with her duffle. She had moved Sam and Dean’s neatly kept duffels to the other one. Just then the phone rang. It rang a couple times before Sam grabbed it.“Hi Dad,” Sammy said slowly.“Sammy, how are things going?”“They are going great, Dad, how are you?”“Just got in to Glacier Bay. Thankfully, Jenny’s mom did not get us arrested at the border. You guys doing alright? Getting enough to eat? Doing your PT?”“Yes, Sir. Dad, we are fine.”“Good. Put Dean on.”“Sure, bye Dad.”“Hi, Dad, you looking like a popsicle yet?”“No, son. It’s beautiful up here. Nothing but trees. I was thinking, I could find some work up here and we could work some hunts.”“Because, teenagers live for trees, right?”“Smart Ass. Your brother behaving? You keeping your nose clean?”“Would you have thought any different?”“Dean. That is not an answer. Please tell I do not have to tan your hide first thing when I get back.”“No, Sir. No tanning required. Jenny is great, Sammy and I are being perfect gentlemen.”“Great, I am going to go dark when we hit the forest. No cell service, no telephones. You take care of those two. You are stronger together. Do not separate. I know it’s hard with a little brother and a little girl cramping your style but that is an order, Dean.”“Yes, Sir, I understand.”“Good night, Dean. I love you. Give Sammy a hug for me.”“Okay Dad, good night, I love you, too.”Dean felt more hot tears fill his eyes. He took his thumb and pointer finger and dragged them across both eye lids to his nose. Acting like something was in his eyes, he gave a smile and said, "I am going to hit the shower." His body went limp as he closed the door. He reached up as far as he had to to turn on the shower. He carefully peeled his clothes off and climbed in. The hot water felt like removed some of the bastard's stench but not all. The water fell cruelly over the bruises. He stayed in the shower until the hot water ran out. He wrapped a towel around his waist, walked out into the room and prayed he would not have to talk to either of them. Luckily or intentionally, both Jenny and Sammy were tucked in bed.Dean put on new boxers and huddled close to his brother. Sammy allowed Dean to lay his head on his chest. With his head nuzzled into Sammy's chest, Dean breathed in his brother's familiar scent and felt safe again. Sammy wrapped his arm around his brother and ran his fingers through Dean's hair and wished he could somehow take the pain away. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Sunlight poked in around the blackout curtains of the motel. Dean slowly opened his eyes. He looked around the room. It was very clean and very empty.“SAMMY!” Escaped Dean’s lips without thought.A scurry of activity occurred outside the door. It opened and Sam and Jenny raced in. Light poured in from outside. It was 10am.“Are you okay, Dean?”“Where the fuck were you?"“Just outside, thought you needed some sleep. We ate some of the pizza and have been talking outside so we wouldn’t disturb you.”“Oh….Okay.” Dean still felt dazed. His body ached. His stomach growled. The wounds on his wrists needed to be disinfected. The horror of last night felt like it was spilling over. Dean looked underneath the covers and saw the bruises on his stomach. His jaw still ached as he moved it side to side.“Hey Sammy, can you go back outside. I need some privacy.”“Um, sure. You alright Dean?”“Just a hell of a case of morning wood, Sam.”Jenny looked inquisitive, “What?”“It’s…nothing. Let’s go back outside.”Sam ushered her outside hoping she wouldn’t, but knowing she probably would, ask him about morning wood. Maybe Dean could explain it? Nope, worse idea.Dean pulled himself out of bed and tried to force himself to not cry. He missed his dad. He missed feeling safe and taken care of. He knew he would have to be strong for Sammy. He pulled on a pair of jeans and put on a long sleeve t-shirt. The found the med kit and did his best to dress his wounds.“Let’s move out boys and girls! We are off the store for provisions.” It was a sunny day. The walk was long but the company was good. The traumas of the previous day seem to heal over old wounds and three seem to get along. The supermarket was an adventure in itself. Dean headed to the frozen food isle first thing, but Jenny stopped him.“Unless you are using that woman’s credit card, let me handle this.” Jenny was more use to cooking on a budget. Her mom would hand her a twenty and say “That has to last us the next two weeks so don’t go spending it all on candy.” Mostly that meant oatmeal every morning and beans and rice and rice and beans for dinner. Eventually, she learned to make her own pasta and bread, even saved seeds and tried to grow a little garden.From the amount of money John gave Sam and Dean, she deduced they probably ate too much fast food and mac and cheese. Jenny bought flour, sugar, eggs and her favorite, butter! Fresh fruits, vegetables, cheese, and a delicious looking sausage. The boys demanded candy and popcorn so that was added to the mix. From the look of the shopping cart, Dean figured they would probably be eating like they did at Uncle Bobby’s. That was okay with him.When the trio got back to the motel. Dean feeling the weight of his wounds decided to lay down the law.“You know I kind of miss Dad, Sammy. I know he is a hard ass but shit like last night this didn’t happen around him. If we had kept to his rules, none of this would have happened.”“Okay… Where are you going with this?”“We are going to do things Dad’s way.”“Are you joking me? What does that even mean?”“It means we follow the rules: train and keep together.”“So that means what? If I came home late, skipped PT, mouthed off… what? You are going to spank me?”“Potentially, I’m first in command.”“This is sick shit, Dean… and hey, what about Jenny? You going to start spank her too?”“Do you have amnesia? I already have.”“I’m done putting away the groceries. I am going to step outside…if that’s alright?”“That’s fine, stay close,” Dean said making eye contact with the girl and giving her a nod before she headed outside.“That was completely different! And oh, by the way, can I have YOUR belt? You almost got killed last night. Think you should get…huh… about 13. By the way, I will be kind and you don’t even have to count them!”“WATCH YOUR ATTITUDE SAMMY,” Dean spit.“Yes, Sir! You want me to clean your boots, Sir? Do I have latrine duty? Should I go get my toothbrush?”“I suggest you march outside and join that girl of yours while I calm down, before I do something you’ll regret.”“Sir, Yes, Sir!” Sam said clicking his boots together and saluting. Sammy marched a little too quickly to be still acting.Dean put his head in his hands wondering how he got there.*************************Dean was ten and Sammy was five and a half. John Winchester had moved his family to Carson City, Nevada. Pastor Jim and Bobby were states away. John was needed on a vampire case in the next town over. John needed to leave Sammy home alone with Dean. Dean had always looked after his brother, made him dinner, got him to school on time, helped him with homework, changed diapers, feed him bottles, taught him to read, and count. Dad taught them everything else. The boys love to listen to John. His stories about the Marines, guns, lore, self-defense, bows and arrows, and survival. To be honest, living with John Winchester was like being in boy scouts every day. There were times it was more like having a drill sergeant for a father. He expected every order to be followed and did not take kindly to disrespect or mistakes.John sat Dean down in the living room. “Dean, I need to leave you boys alone overnight. The hunt is too dangerous for me to take you boys on. Do you think you can be responsible enough to take care of Sammy until I get back? This is a big responsibility, if you do not think you are ready, I will understand.”“Dad, Sir, I can do it.”“Okay, Dean, I am very close. I will check in as much as I can.”“Yes, Sir.”“Good boy, you’ll do fine.”John left Dean in charge and drove out. The day went fine. Dean was able to get Sammy to school and pick him up like every other day. Bedtime became more of a problem…John called Dean at 20:30: an hour after Sammy should have been in bed. When Dean picked up the phone John could barely hear his eldest. The TV and the radio were on very loud. John could hear his little boy screaming “Not going to bed! Because it’s Christmas!” John just shook his head and tried not to smile too hard, fearing somehow Dean would see over the phone line.“Dad! You have to come home! I can’t keep Sammy under control! He is throwing cereal everywhere and every time I turn off the TV on goes the radio! He won’t go to bed Dad!”“It’s okay, Dean! Go to my room so you can hear me!”Dean did what he was told and closed the door. John chuckled. “You okay, Dean?”“No, Dad! This is horrible! He is just a little ingrate!”“Calm down, Dean. Did you tell him that you would tell me what he was doing?”“He doesn’t care! He’s being an asshole, Dad.”“Watch that mouth of yours son," John took a deep breath and exhaled, "Well I am sorry to say it, but you are probably going to have to give Sammy a spanking.”“Are you kidding me?”“No, son. If you are going to be in charge he is going to have to respect your authority. You have to keep him safe, Dean.”Keep him safe. The words felt like triggers that had forced Dean to grow up far too soon. Sammy needed to be safe.“If he won’t listen to you when you tell him to go to bed, how are you going to keep him away from the weapons, the stove, the matches or any other dangerous shit we own?”“Okay, I think I can do it.”“Now don’t go beating you brother, Dean. Just make sure he heard you and won’t do it again. You are in charge, now you have to act like it. I trust you, Dean.”“Okay, Dad… Yes, Sir.”“Good boy, see you when I get home tomorrow.”Dean collected his thoughts, along with some courage and opened the door. Sammy was sitting in the middle of a big pile of cereal “snow,” munching along to the Cosby show.“Sammy. I need you to go to your room and get to bed!”“No way, Dean. Dad isn’t here. You are not Dad.”“Sammy. Dad said to get your ass in that bed NOW.”“No, I am watching TV!”“I’m not kidding, Sammy”“Jesus Sammy, I am really going to have to do this.” Sammy’s eyes did not leave the screen.Dean grabbed his little brother and threw him over his shoulder. Sammy kicked and hit as he was carried up the stairs.Dean carried out his father’s orders. Getting a hold of his struggling brother was difficult. Sammy squirmed, hissed, spit, cussed and tried to grab anything that was next to him. Dean pulled the kid over his lap and pinned Sammy's arm to his back. Using his free hand he pulled down Sammy's jeans. He pulled back his hand reluctantly and began to slap the boy's under-roo clad behind. He spanked little Sammy until the fight left him. Until the kicking and hitting stopped. Until the screaming and cussing stopped. Until he was nothing but a crying heap of a child.“I’m sorry Sammy, but you have to listen to me when Dad’s not here.” The words sounded reasonable enough until he looked into his brother’s eyes and saw a look he had never seen before: Betrayal.What happened that night changed the bond between them. Dean was no longer only Sammy’s caregiver, his source of support, comfort and love. He morphed instantly into another person who was over him, holding a belt and giving him orders. Sammy’s little world got scarier that night.Dean offered Sammy his arms and tried to comfort him. “Get away from me!”The lesson he had wanted to teach was lost. Go to bed on time. Listen to me, I know what is best for you was replaced by do what I say, when I say or else.Over the years, Sammy came understand that Dean was not monster. Dean was fair and really only ever did anything really drastic if he was worried about Sammy or had lost complete control over the situation. He was nothing like Dad who could dole out punishment based on his sobriety or his level of exhaustion. Dean never told on Sammy unless he had to. He took punishments for him regularly. Eventually, Sammy returned to Dean’s arms even if he had been the one to punish him.++++++++++++++++Dean pulled himself back to the present. He had totally lost complete control over the situation. He wanted desperately to call Bobby, Pastor Jim or hell his Dad.Fuck it.Dean rolled his shoulders back and took a deep breath in and opened the motel door.“Get the fuck in here Sammy!”Sammy jumped to his feet and then tried to walk coolly into the motel room.“Park it.”“Now, I do not know what makes you think you cannot follow a few simple rules, but you will follow them. Even if I have to remind you who Dad put in charge here. If you pull any of that bullshit like you did last night coming in an hour and half after dark, my hand and your ass will have a very one sided conversation. Is that clear or do I need to speak to you terms you are more likely to understand?”Dean’s stair was deep. Sammy knew Dean was serious but could not allow himself to let down.“So let me get this straight. You get in trouble with a goddamn shifter and now my month is fucked? And do you have amnesia? You stole a freaking credit card yesterday! And did you forget? I saved you, Dean. I saved your fucking life! You are not going to treat me like a fucking child!”“I guess I do need to speak a language you’ll understand.” Dean put his hand on his knees, pushed himself up, and walked toward his brother.“Dean, we are not doing this! Leave me alone!” Sammy said, walking backwards.“Sorry little brother, this is happening.”Dean tried pulled the boy over his knee. Getting a hold of his struggling brother was difficult, he was bigger now, stronger, and angrier. The two got into a wrestling match. Per usual Dean won, quickly. Sam squirmed, hissed, spit, cussed and tried to grab anything that was next to him. Dean pinned Sam's arm against his back. Using his free hand he pulled down Sam's jeans. He pulled back his hand reluctantly and began to slap the boy's boxer clad behind. He spanked Sammy until the fight left him. Until the kicking and hitting stopped. Until the screaming and cussing stopped. Until he was nothing but a crying heap of a boy.“I’m sorry Sammy, but you are going to listen to me.” The words sounded reasonable enough until he looked into his brother’s eyes and saw a familiar look.Betrayal.Dean half offered his arms to try and comfort him.“Get. Away. From Me!”The message he was trying to teach Sammy was clear. Do what I say, when I say, or else! To be continued... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Dean watched his little brother cry. The tears were bitter and angry. He ran his hands through his dusty blond hair. Why the fuck can’t he listen? Why the hell can’t he follow a goddamn order once and while? This town his father had thought was safe enough to leave them in was clearly not and fuck if his brother was going to go through the same hell he had last night.It would take a few hours but he would come around again. He’d still be pissed but he’d collect himself and move on. It was part of being a Winchester. Dean watched his brother as long as he could stand it. After last night he wanted Sammy within five feet of him for the rest of his life. Guilt began to gnaw at him and he opened and motel door to sunshine.Jenny sat slumped over in the shade of post reading one of Sammy’s books on archery. She saw Dean, closed the book and gave him a smile.“Everything okay?”“Yeah, mostly. Think Sam needs some time to calm down.” He said sitting down next to her.“What the hell were you two doing in there? It sounded like you guys were fighting a poltergeist.”“Just expressing some brotherly love.”“The amount of testosterone, you two have, takes some serious adjusting,” Jenny said pulling her legs in close and grabbing her shoulders. She paused. “Dean… What happened last night?”“A large helping of fucked up, with a side of bullshit.”“It sounded like it,” Jenny said as she rubbed her shoes together. “I know it was scary Dean, but you really shouldn’t beat on him so much.” Jenny expected Dean to yell. She expected him to be angry. She didn’t expect tears.“I know…I don’t know how to keep him safe. He takes chances I wouldn’t take. Pushes lines I wouldn’t cross. Bad things follow us Jenny. To him it’s just life. He doesn’t see what it takes to get us through the day.”“My dad was the same way… When I was about 4 years old, my Gran lived with us. She started acting crazy. Collecting animal bones, creeping around the garden, eating bugs, and burying crazy things in the backyard. She bought animal blood and painted our walls with crazy symbols and drawings: “to keep out the devils and pixies.” Jenny stared off into the blue of the Oregon sky. “She must have been possessed but what had to be a senile witch. Which is probably why we survived. Bobby showed up at our door, found the name, and the burned the bones. The stress of the spirit caused my Gran to have a heart attack. She died the moment the spirit left. Dad was wracked with guilt, as my mom tells it, and then he became hunter. He felt like he should have been able to save her. If he had only known the signs, sooner.He changed. He had to completely control over everything in his life. Everything he said had to be followed to the letter and immediately. He had never hit me before Gran died. After that any kind of misbehavior was meet with a stern lecture and a through paddling.”Jenny’s mind wandered back to when her Daddy was alive and she had snuck out of bed to trap fireflies. The memory made her grab her shoulders, pull them in and shutter slightly.&&&&&In kindergarten, she learned about fireflies. Her teacher called them fairy bugs. The class drew pictures and heard stories about the bioluminescent glow worms. They fall asleep like sleeping beauty in the winter and didn’t wake up until spring called them. They were nocturnal: playing and eating in the nighttime instead of the day. The boy fireflies used flashes to find their lady. It was like prince charming calling to his princess.Jenny knew going outside at night was forbidden. But curiosity got the better of her. She found an old pickle jar and a nail. She couldn’t wait to meet them. Her teacher had given them instructions on how to prepare the jar and catch the fairy bugs with parental help. Her teacher stressed: fireflies are amazing living creatures and it’s important to not keep them in a jar as pets.Jenny waited until she was sure her mom and dad were asleep. Which was a remarkably feat as she had become very sleepy. She waited until she heard her father’s gentle snore from down the hallway. Slowly she crept down the stairs in the dense heat of a Virginian May night. The back door was opened with care as she retrieved her jar. The faint smell of pickles still lingering, she saw the beautiful bugs dance in dark. She wore a white ruffled nightgown and imagined she was a fairy, dancing, skipping and singing with the magical bugs. It was the first time since her Gran died that she remembered feeling safe.Her twirling and humming was interrupted by her father’s yell. “JENNY!” She froze. The glass jar fell to the ground. “JENNY!” She heard again. The back door swung open so hard her father had to catch it as it recoiled to avoid being hit. He was a tall man. Handsome with fine blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Since he had started hunting his big arms had begun to push back against the sleeves of his shirts. “Oh my God! You are safe!” He grabbed her in his arms and threw them both in the house. He put her down and salted the back door.“Goddamnit, Jenny! It’s a full moon! …You put yourself and mom and dad in great danger! What were you thinking? …. I don’t care! Git the hell upstairs and go to your room, I have to calm down!”Jenny raced up the stairs almost bumping head first into her mother.“What the hell is going on Tom?”“Jenny disobeyed orders! She was outside, late at night, and she broke the damn salt line! It’s a fucking full moon, Emily!”“Are you hearing yourself? Disobeyed orders? Salt lines?”"Emily, you do not know what the fuck it out there! I need to protect us! Jenny is going to have to learn to listen to me. There is no room for this shit!”“Now you listen to me, Tom! You are not going to go beating our daughter just because some nut with a box of salt and shotgun told you too!”“I will correct her behavior. And God help me, I will take a hand to you both, if it means I keep you safe.”“Excuse me?”“Go back to bed, Emily Ann. Do not make me tell you twice.” Tom spoke slowly and firmly.“You are in no shape to behave like a rational fucking human being.” Emily stormed up the stairs with a little bit of a jump in her step. She had never seen him like this and it was more than a little terrifying.Tom walked slowly into the dining room and pour himself a whiskey. He understood why John and Bobby drank so much. Every time he came home from a hunt, he did not feel like victorious. He felt he learned a little more about Evil, exhausted and more terrified for his family. After the blood of some creature washed off his body into the drain he knew that thing could have be the one to take him down, leaving his wife and baby girl vulnerable.He drank slowly, knowing his daughter’s heart was probably racing alone in her room. He climbed the wooden steps slowly, shaking his head unconsciously. He stood in front of her door, opening it slowly. Leaving it open, he walked over to her bookcase. He stood slightly on his toes to reach an object Jenny had not known was there. It was a small wooden paddle. He took it and put it on her nightstand.One of the other hunters had made it for him. On one of his first hunts, he heard a hunter lament a punishment he had given his son. It sounded too harsh for a boy that young. Tom commented on how good his daughter was and how he could never physically punish her. His parents had never hit him and it did not sound like he could even do. The fire crackled and the other hunters explained that once you were touched by something evil, it was more likely to touch you again. They relayed stories of children lost because of one mistake.“I couldn’t touch her like that!” Tom protested. An older man named Dusty nodded in agreement. “I can help you, son. I had three girls. I understand. I’m sorry that spirit found your family. But now, it’s your job to protect them.”The thing had arrived in the mail months ago from Dusty. Now Jenny stared at it, wide eyed.“Jenny, did I tell you it was important to stay inside after dark?”“Yes, Daddy.”“Did I tell you that salt lines kept us safe from the things that took Gran?”“Yes, Daddy.”“What did I say would happen if you broke the new rules?”Jenny hesitated. “You said you would spank me.”“Do you know what a spanking is?”“It’s a punishment. A mommy or daddy swats a naughty girl or boy on the bottom.”“You said you did not ever want a spanking. Why did you break the rules?”“I wanted to dance with the fireflies. They were so beautiful! And..”Tom cut her off. “Jennifer, what you did was very dangerous. I am going to have to give you a spanking with the paddle.”“Will it hurt?” She said squirming slightly.Tom bit his own lip unconsciously and looking sternly into her eyes, he nodded. Tom sat at the end of her bed, “Come here, Jennifer. Be a good girl so I do not need to spank you more than I have to.”She slide off the bed and walked toward her father, hesitantly. He pulled her over his lap and tried to remember what to do. He took the paddle off the nightstand and thumbed the handle nervously. He pulled up her nightgown, being careful not to touch her, she shifted nervously. He stared for a minute, which seemed like forever to scared little girl. “Oh, God what am I doing?” he thought to himself. He patted her bottom with the paddle a few times. He wondered if he could still get out of it. Then he remember the story about the little girl who wandered off and was found in pieces by a werewolf. His resolve strengthened, he brought down the paddle with some force to a loud SMACK.Jenny jolted and let out a whimper. “Daddy! Stop!” Jenny tried to protect herself by throwing her hands back. Tom put her hands back in front of her. "You have to stay still, I will have to give you another spanking if you keep putting your hands back." Tom paused.“I’m sorry you made such a bad choice, Jenny.” Tom took his left arm and wrapped it around her small waist. She was now firmly in place. Determined to for her to not put herself in danger again, he let the paddle rise and fall harder. SMACK! “Ow! Daddy!” Rise and fall. SMACK. “YOU.” SMACK. “ARE.” SMACK. “GOING.” SMACK “TO.” SMACK. “Obey.” SMACK. “THE RULES.” SMACK.Jenny’s small cries were barely audible through the smacks. Her bottom now on fire, Jenny started to panic and tried to escape. He tightened his grip and continued his assault until her small bottom was bright shade of red through the thin cotton panties. She was now howling. He stopped.She was crying freely as he set the cruel thing down and embraced his daughter tightly, like he was going to lose her if he let go. He ran his finger through her hair and pressed his head against hers. Her hair was wet with sweat and face stained with tears.“It’s okay, it’s all done. I forgive you, Jenny.” She sobbed harder. “It’s time to go to bed now. Stay inside and leave the salt alone, okay?”“Okay…”“Goodnight, baby girl.” He said this every night to her. She couldn’t remember him forgetting. It felt cold tonight. She could not bring herself to return the sentiment. The way he said it did not even seem to invite it. Tom slid the paddle back in its place above the bookshelf and closed her door.It was worst pain Jenny had ever felt in her young life. It was a mixture of physical pain, disappointment and humiliation. For days after she felt the residual pain of the paddling follow her. She tried very hard to stay out of that position but it was difficult to follow his rules, respect authority and establish her independence.As time passed it was easier and easier for Tom to discipline his only child. She tested boundaries, lied, defied him, pushed back, argued with him more frequently. Disagreed with him more openly. He tried to attribute it to her age.############Dean pulled her back.“I was going to ask, why did your mom try to contact your dad? Wasn’t he given a hunter’s burial?” …“They never found his body. The witch they went up against left bits and pieces of the other hunter but not my dad. And there was a lot of blood. More blood that you’d expect from one man. She was much more powerful than anyone expected. Mom said she was afraid he had such a violent death, he would have a hard time resting.”“I am sorry. I heard he was a great hunter.”“He was,” Jenny said smiling proudly. “He was great. But he really respected your dad and Bobby. He was so mad at me for embarrassing him Easter. Before you came, there was a lecture for both me and my mother about how to behave in front of the great Bobby Singer and John Winchester.”“Yeah, that was a rough day… But the pie! That pie was excellent!”Dean said smiling and shaking his head. Just then. Sammy emerged from the room. His eyes were slightly swollen but he appeared calmer. Sam did not like the look of his brother sitting next to his girl. He crouched down closer to her and grabbed her hand. Jenny blushed and smiled.“Okay, let’s eat some grub and hit the beach!”“I’d rather go to library. Jenny and I can go there and you can have the beach.”“The library’s decent. We are sticking together. You two want to be alone, you can be alone within earshot.”“Let’s just watch cable,” Sammy said bitterly.“Best idea so far!”“I’ll go make lunch.” Jenny pulled herself up and headed toward the kitchenette. Sammy sat at the kitchenette,“What are you going to make?”“Bread, you’ll love it. Also it’s so fun! Yeast are awesome. It’s so cool how there are millions of little beings trapped inside this packet.” Jenny flicked the package with her fingers to shake up the Active yeast. “They just wait and wait, so patiently, then someone wakes them up. Watch.” Jenny had measured out a cup of milk and 3 tablespoons of butter and was heating in pan. “We just want to warm it up...” The butter melted and she took it off the stove, poured it into a bowl and added the package of yeast.“Now we feed them,” she said smiling. Dean had gone behind the motel, retrieved some sticks and began whittling them into stakes over a trashcan. Jenny slowly stirred in 2 tablespoons of sugar in to the bowl. “Look, Sammy, they are eating! Millions of tiny creatures all waking up at the same time. Yeast is so amazing. They make exact copies of themselves, one purpose, eat, divide, eat and divide. Do you see the bubbles? They are doing that. We wait three minutes. I like to think they are having some kind of party. Then we add the flour. Normally I would use Mrs. Ethel’s mixer, but I think we can use some of that hunter muscle and a fork.Jenny eyed a small pink Minnie Mouse watch on her left wrist. It was a relic of her time with her father. Simple, predictable, and dependable, the watch was probably too small for her hand and too young for her age but she loved it. She would watch Minnie stretch her thin arms and enormous hands in awkward and uncomfortable positions all day long and wonder why it was perfectly acceptable for cartoon characters to wear the same thing day after day and she was teased relentlessly. Cinderella had nothing on the poor. She only had three bullies to content with. Seriously, fuck her. At least she had some birds and talking mice.When Minnie had contorted her longer arm three ticks, Jenny began to slowly feed the wee beasties the 3 cups of flour she measured out. Slowly she mixed the flour into the bubbling mixture. Slowly she added the flour and stirred it with a fork. She then added an egg and two teaspoons of salt. The mixture now resembled a mass of dough. “Okay, I think we can do this. We need to keep mixing for ten minutes, medium speed so pretty fast for us.”Jenny took the first shift and was able to keep the fork going for about three minutes. Jenny started panting, “Okay, your turn.” She handed the bowl over to Sammy who lasted four minutes, when he started to slow down, Dean took the bowl and stirred the bread until Jenny called time. Dean moved his fingers and wrist.Jenny happily took the bread dough and kneaded it. Folded it. She put the dough in a bowl and set it in the sun of a window with a damp motel towel covering it.While the bread was rising, Dean took his sticks outside. Taking the bark off the stick in even strips. He eyed an unmistakable rusted brown and white Ford Pinto. “Oh, Jesus…It’s Dan Fuller.”Dan was a fowl mouthed, ill-tempered hunter who threatened everyone he came in contact with. Standing at 5’5, he had the height and morals of a man who did not mind standing back of another to seem taller. John got along with him to a point. Dean had heard John say menacingly, “Get your eyes off my boy, Dan!” Dan made a point of pointing out how John should keep better reign on his boys. John knew and told them that Dan was jealous of Dean. His pinpoint accuracy in shooting, his lightening reflexes, his head full of blonde hair, and mostly his foul mouthed wit. The other hunters liked Dean. He pulled his weight and more. He was clever and always wanted to hear what they had to say. Especially if it was going to make him better at hunting. Dan didn’t like Dean. He had little reverence and even less respect. Dan liked how Dean got a little paler when Dan mentioned John “taking him to woodshed” or “giving him a lesson with that belt.” John would call him “a sorry son of a bitch who probably would not make it another hunt.”But that was little comfort now. Dean turned slowly and started to head back inside when he heard: “Well kiss my shorts! It’s Dean Winchester! Where’s your daddy, boy?” “Coming back soon, Dan!”Dan called out to his colleagues, they include a large dopey man named Frank and a skinny wisp of man called Mark. Mark had thinning pale hair and was not much taller than Dan. He had lost his family young, growing up around redneck hunters that would pass the boy off when he got too much for them. Mark was never really abused, but never really loved either. Mark had a drinking problem but Dan and Frank looked after him. Mark had an honest smile and could find work anywhere that didn’t require too much skill. He made himself useful and tried not cause too much trouble. A lesson leftover from his youth perhaps.Frank was a simpler man to most. He had met Dan when he was fourteen had stayed with him since. Franks parents were nice folks who went to church and taught him to be a good boy. They also told him there was no way his neighbor could do a thing like that and to stop telling so many lies. When Dan found out, Frank was sixteen. Dan decided the neighbor was possessed and cut off his head in his sleep. Frank knew the man was just a sick fuck but the sentence seemed fair and he loved Dan for it.Dan’s sister had been possessed and left for dead by a demon when he was eight. His father became a hunter soon after. His dad was a little too handy with the belt before his sister died and got worse afterwards. Alcoholism and banshee had taken his dad when Dan was in high school, which was about the time he assembled his gang and moved out. The three lived together, drank together, got whores together, hunted together and lived on the road together. In another life, they might have made the perfect kind of bad trucker.Dan called to his boys, “We’re hanging out with the Winchesters tonight!”Dean started to panic. Dad would not like this, and hell Dean hated this. Dan would tell the motel management and then where would they be? In the belly of the Oregon child protective services probably. Dean honestly could not decide which was worse.to be continued.... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Dean gave Dan a forced smile and headed into the room. He just saw Frank pull a case of miller’s best beer out of the back of the Pinto. “Sammy, Jenny get in the closet. Keep the knife on you. Dan Fuller and friends are coming up. I think I can handle them. Try not to make noise.” Sammy and Jenny obeyed. Dean kicked Sammy’s and Jenny’s duffle under the bed. Thankfully, Dad had taught them to keep everything in the bag at all times. Mostly because they never know when it was time to pick up and leave. Dean scanned the room for any female or Sammy element. Looked clear. Sammy and Jenny piled uncomfortably into the closet, both glad they took the time to use the facilities while the bread rose. “Holy crap the bread,” Jenny whispered. Sammy shifted uncomfortably. This was so bad. The pain from his spanking was a strange reminder of how grateful he was that Dean was in charge. Dan was mean. Even meaner drunk. He did not like to think about what the fuck those assholes would do to Jenny. He griped her hand. “It’s okay, Dean will think of something.” Dean relieved himself in the bathroom, hoping to make sure there were no lady elements. As he came out of the bathroom, Dean heard a loud banging on the door. He took a deep breath and unlocked the door. Dan came in to room first. He was wearing a black backpack that had seen its day many years prior and looked as if it was holding on to life with duct tape and sheer force of will. “Well my god Winchester, this place looks clean enough to eat off. You sure your Daddy’s been here lately. I didn’t see any cigarette butts out front. You lying to me, boy?” “Yeah, he’s been gone on a hunt with Sam. They should be back tonight.” “Huh,” Dan said suspiciously, “Well, old John won’t mind if we sit a spell with his number one son, would he?” “What brings you here, Dan? You out hunting the Tooth Fairy again?” “Got word there was a shifter giving the locals a hard time. Looks like someone got to it first. Now we are just here to drink, relax, and make merry before we find something else to take down. You wouldn’t know too much about that would you, Deano? Not had your first kill yet, have you, boy? Still watching Daddy get all the action, huh?’ “Just takin’ notes from the best, I guess.” Frank came in heaving a heavy case of what he affectionately called “The Beast.” He opened the fridge. “There sure is shit ton of vegetables in here, you becoming a rabbit, kid?’ “Just trying stay healthy…” Dean said hesitantly. “Yeeeeoooowww!” Mark entered the room carrying a bottle of Evan Williams Whiskey and held it over his head. Mark was the kind of drunk you could predict bad behavior from. This was probably one of those nights. The nights that one looks forward to when life is handing you shit. The night you save in the back of your head and remember, that for just one night, none of the bullshit would matter. Dan shook his head slightly. “Damnit Mark, you ain’t even drunk yet.” “Liquor before beer, Bitches!” “Mark, pour the kid some of that whiskey. Daddy wouldn’t mind, would he son?” “You know he would, Dan. I’d be hung out to dry.” “I’ll take the blame for you boy. Go ahead, relax a little.” “Okay.” Dean accepted the glass and sipped the burning liquid slowly. “Dean, what the fuck smells so good?” Dan surveyed the room. He saw the bowl with the towel over it. Pulling up the towel, he saw the dough. “You know how to make bread, Winchester?” “Uh, yeah.” “What the fuck is going on here boy? You ain’t telling me the whole truth, and I do not take kindly to liars.” Frank had settled back in one of the chairs from the kitchen and was enjoying his beer, flipping through the channels. Mark sat on the edge of a bed and got out a deck of cards. He started shuffling unconsciously as he started on his whiskey. Mark drank unceremoniously from the bottle. “Oh, my god! This is the movie where Madonna is naked, right?” Frank asked hopefully. “It’s also the one where Madonna is Madonna. Fucking terrible!” Mark said already feeling the whiskey. “I’m talking to you, boy!” Dan said angrily. “What? I can make bread,” Dean said looking around the room. “Go ahead, finish the damn thing then. Me and my boys are hungry. While you’re at it, cut up some of those veggies.” Dean looked at the dough miserably. Biting his lip, he decided to try and bake it. He turned on the oven and twisted the nob to a number. Pulled out a cookie sheet, put the mound in the middle of it and shoved it in the oven. Said a short prayer and shut the oven door. Dean pulled out a potato, carrots, and some broccoli. He remembered seeing an army movie where someone pealed potatoes and carrots so he attempted to remove the peel with his hunting knife. He cut everything up in chunks and put it all on a plate. He placed the plate in front of Mark. Who absentmindedly grabbed a hunk of potato and bit down. “Jesus, kid! You trying to kill me?” Dan inspected the plate and shook his head disapprovingly. “Dean, Dean… I’m afraid that is strike one, boy.” “What?” “You don’t want to know kid.” Frank said, trying to flip back to Truth or Dare. “Damn it, Frank, Madonna sucks!” “She’s pretty, Mark!” “Fuck her! Fuck all of her!” “Can you two shut the fuck up?" called Dan. For the next hour, Mark and Dan played a game of spades and talked about monster hunts. There was lots of drinking and smoke breaks. Dean left with Mark to have a Marlboro light. This was of course the nineties, when smoking was just bad for you and not the slow death we know it to be now. They smoked mainly in silent. The slow draws from the cigarette made Dean lightheaded and contemplative. Dean stared at the sky, wondering if his father could the same full moon. Wondering if he was worried about them or had blind faith that Dean or some other force was protecting them. Well for now, Dean knew Sammy and Jenny were safe. He would keep them that way, whatever it took. When Mark and Dean came back into the room, Dan was laying himself down on Jenny’s bed. He started twitching. He felt something under the covers. He lifted the comforter and found the candy lip gloss. “Dean? You wanna try explaining this?” Dan asked holding up the lip gloss. “That’s a… It’s a mine!” Dean realized his mistake and tried back peddling, “I mean it’s a girl of mine’s. She must have left it here.” “Let’s just fucking play some Goddamn cards!” Mark whined. “Dean is going all bitch on us, boys!” Dan had finished two beers and was on his third. “You want to make it official, boy? I always thought you were too pretty to be real man. Put this gloss on. Let’s see how you look?” “I’m okay…” “You want a second strike?” “You don’t want a second strike, Dean.” Frank chimed in, covertly watching True or Dare, the volume on low, “I wanna shotgun this one, Dan!” Dan shook his head and walked over to Frank. He took out his knife and poked a hole in the bottom side of the can, then plugging the hole with his thumb to hold the liquid inside. “Watch this, Dean, this is cool.” Frank said smiling. Mark held his cards, watching in anticipation. Dan stood over Frank and held the beer can over his head. With his other hand Dan opened the can and removed his finger. The beer flowed freely into the gigantic mouth of Frank, who appeared to not breathe until the all the contents of the can had reached his stomach. Beer dripped out of his mouth onto the floor as Dean shook his head. He hoped they could get rid of the stench of this rednecks before his father or the motel management arrived. “WOOOOOHHHHOOOOO!” Frank bellowed as he finished. “That’s fucking crazy, man,” Mark said, thoroughly impressed. Dean guessed this was a fairly regular occurrence, but joined in anyway. “NICE, Frank!” “Nicely done, Frank,” Dan said patting Frank on the back. Dan looked over at Dean and tilted his head to the side. “I’m not done with you, boy. Go ahead. If it’s yours, put it on.” “Come on, pretty boy, I’ll help you,” Dan grabbed Dean’s belt loop and pulled him close. Unscrewing the gloss, Dan applied the lip gloss to Dean’s full lips. Dean had to make a conscious effort to stand still. “You make a pretty fine Bitch, Dean!” With that, Dan slapped Dean on the ass, hard. “Damn, Dan! You ought to ask my daddy before you start getting fresh with me like that!” “I won’t tell if you won’t,” Dan said smiling. His eyes had started to glass over from the beer. He gave Dean’s ass a pat. “Seriously, man, cut it out.” “We got us a beer bitch, fellas!” Mark said, “A pretty one, too!” “Bring me a cold one, Dean!” Frank yelled. “Go on, Darling, do what the man asked,” Dan snarled. “Get me another one, too.” Dean did not like where this was going. He like that Sammy and Jenny were listening to this swill even less. Not only was this humiliating, Dean knew it was far from over. At this point the smell of burnt bread permeated the motel room. “Dean, git your bitch ass into the kitchen! Dinner is burning.” Dan said smirking. The bread dough had spilled over the cookie sheet and began to burn the bottom of the oven. Dean turned off the oven and grabbed a thin oven mitt. “Goddamn it!” Dean cursed under his breathe. His hand burnt under thin mitt. He tossed the bread mass onto the stove. Dan walked up behind him. Looking over the large mass of inedible bread, “Un, un, un, Dean. Strike two, little girl.” Dan smiled. “What the hell are you talking about?” Dan laughed. “Just don’t get to three by midnight, then it’s light’s out princess.” “What?” “Don’t you worry your pretty little head. It’s man’s business.” “You forgot my beer!” Frank said frowning. “I’m going to let that slid, next time, strike three, go get our beers princess.” Dean looked around the room and saw no support. He went to the fridge and grabbed Frank and Dan a beer. Frank patted Dean’s butt, nodding and looking into Dean’s eyes, saying, “Good job, girl.” Dean just nodded and walked away. Mark chewed on the carrots and said, “Git me a glass of water, Beer Bitch, be quick about it!” Dean got a glass of water and handed it off to Mark. Mark grabbed his arm, and pulled his face down close to his own. He squinted a little and said, “Your eyes! They are really green!” “Mark are you falling in love over there?” Dan asked. Mark shook a small mass of blond locks. “Liquor before beer! Get me a beer, bitch!” Mark slapped Dean’s ass with a loud crack. “Shit, man!” “That’s no way for a lady to talk!” Dan said, his eyes wider than before. “Do you want another strike?” Dan asked slowly. Dean looked Dan in the eye and shook his head. “Good girl!” “And, get my beer!” Mark was getting angry. “Get ‘im that beer and start working on that whiskey.” Dean did what he was told. Dean gave Mark a beer, he accepted without fondling Dean. Dean took a swig of the high proof, high octane whiskey. Dean’s head was starting to spin a little. He had not had lunch and these guys where making a meal of beer and hard liquor. The next hour passed uneventfully, Dean stood in the corner gripping his drink tightly. Worried about his brother and Jenny stuck in the closet. Dan joked with Frank and they reminisced about some high school crush who had just gotten pregnant and fat. Frank said the police had come back around asking about old Mr. Drexler. No one had found a body in ten years and the heirs had finally come sniffing around. The house was being sold. “It’s sad when demons fuck someone up so bad. That was some sick fuck of a demon.” Frank nodded solemnly. It was clear he wanted to talk more about it but Dan looked back at Dean and cranked his mouth and Frank nodded again. Dan grabbed Mark’s cards and played a hand of gin with Frank until Frank had had a few more beers, won a hand and started to smile again. Mark laid back and pulled out his Bukowski novel. Closing his eyes occasionally and taking long pulls from his beer. Frank looked back at the TV that was at a low roar. “I told you! I fucking told you! Tits! Madonna’s boobies!” “Goddamn it! Turn that shit off!” Mark hurled a beer can at Frank, hitting him in the head, beer spilling on the carpet. “Damn it, Dan! One of these days I am going to fuck him up! He’s fucking nuts!” Frank rubbed his head. “Calm down boys! Let’s just plays some cards. Dean can deal!” Dan said reassuringly. Frank, satisfied that he had seen Madonna’s breasts, turned off the TV and huddled with his friends around a neatly stack deck of cards. Unfortunately shuffling cards was not a skill that John had taught his boy. Dean was planning his talk with his father as he picked up the deck. Dan eyed Dean with a smirk. Dean cut the deck in half. He took both halves and pushed them together. Mark, who was drunker than Dean realized, said, “Oh, God, Dan! He’s going to fuck up my deck. Let’s just get this party started and circle jerk, man. He looks like he’s got soft hands, he can stand next to you if you want.” Dean got wide eyed and decided this was getting bad fast. “My bad!” Dean said quickly. “I’ll shuffle right. You guys ever played the drinking game called fifty two card round up?” Dan, Frank and Mark looked at each other puzzled shaking their heads. “Naw kid, show us how.” ”Okay, you have to keep an eye on the cards!” Dean collected the cards and bend them at an arch and let the fly all over the room. Then he bolted. Fuck this, I am not getting raped. I would rather face Dad and the police than these naked motherfuckers. Dean ran towards the door. Frank grabbed him by the arm and pulled the boy so hard he was knocked off his feet. Mark looked up from collecting his cards. “That looks like strike three, Dan.” Dan looked at Dean smiling. “Bet you were wondering what kind of game we were playing. We had a bet. I bet them that you would make three major party fowls by midnight. I won. See I told the boys here you needed to be taken down a notch. That your dad was too soft on that fine ass of yours. Did you know I can’t get Chin to stop calling me ‘round eye’ after you said I couldn’t shoot because my eyes were too far apart?” Mark started belly laughing. “You sorry son of bitch! Alan Parker calls you ‘round eye’ because you are not of Asian descent and you fucking call him ‘Chin’!” “But that’s his name!” Frank said slowly, shaking his head, “That’s what your racist Daddy called ‘im, Dan. You know because he's Chinese. It's not right Dan.” “Well, fuck!” Dan said slapping his knee, “He also said my car was a two dollar bucket of shit, but was more valuable than redneck inside it.” Dan narrowed his eyes and said, “You called my momma a sorry bitch who gave birth to a runt!” “Now, that’s just not true,” Dean said, “I said your momma was probably sorry she gave birth to a runt bitch like you… I am sorry if that was unclear.” “I told you! He fucking has no goddamn respect!” “You might be right, Dan. Uh, uh, uh,” Mark said shaking his head. “I was on your side kid, I told Dan, give him a chance. He’s a fucking hunter like the rest of us. I think you had your chance… might have to pay the piper son.” Mark had a meanness in his eyes Dean hadn’t seen before. “Things not going too well for you tonight boy,” Frank said, grabbing Dean’s other arm, Dean pulled with all his might to no avail. Motioning with his eyes and chin Dan said, “Put him, sunny side down over there.” Frank stood up and flipped the boy high in the air, Dean landed on his stomach over the bed. “Get his legs, Mark.” “If your drunk ass hits me in the face with that belt, I’m going to be so pissed.” To be continued… ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "A man cannot be too careful in his choice of enemies." Oscar Wilde Dean was beginning to hate this motel room. For the second time in three days, he was face down being beaten by some pervert who was a true monster in their own rite. He had to lick his brother twice and some crazy girl once in this room. A girl who Dean couldn’t help but think had an unwilling hand in all the fucked up shit that had come to pass: candy lip gloss, bread, Ouija board, credit card. Okay, hopefully these hicks would only beat him senseless and leave him virginally intact. Mark looked at the boy kicking up a storm and shook his head. “Dan, I am way too fucked up to help you with this,” Mark said as he gripped his head.“That’s fine. Got me some back up.” Dan reached into the ailing backpack and withdrew some hand cuffs.“Holy Shit! Does every pervert in Oregon shop at a Goddamn bondage shop?” Dean thought as he saw the hand cuffs dangling from Dan’s pinky.“Why the fuck do you have those?” Mark asked.“Because I am a Goddamn hunter! And sometimes… the girls like it,” Dan said smiling.“Or like it when you pay them extra to use them…” Mark said under his breathe. Dean couldn’t help but smile. But then, reality set in and Dean began to shiver slightly.Frank helped Dan cuff Dean to the bed fame. “You know this is a sex crime! You will do time for this shit, Dan!”“It ain’t nothing I haven’t seen your daddy do!”“What the fuck are you talking about, you deranged redneck?”“I saw your daddy whip you for what you said you Pastor Jim last year. Do you remember? After the dear old pastor said vespers that night, he asked you if you had ever considered the priesthood. You told him that pussy was a much higher calling to you than the lord. Your daddy dragged you into the woods. I saw him do it. He told you keep your hands on the tree and he pulled your jeans down. He was angry and drunk as shit. But he didn’t even give you welts or draw blood. He just licked you a few times and told you mind your manners.”“You followed us? You know that’s creepy as hell?”“Your daddy has no idea how to handle you! My dad would take off his belt and say it was his job to beat the devil out of me… and by God he did!”“You know that is asshole for ‘I have to beat the shit out of my kid because I have a small dick?’” Mark said barely conscious.“What the fuck do you know about my dad’s dick, Mark?”“I have a small dick, I can spot a small dicked guy like a mile away! And did you ever look at the truck of his? I rest my fucking case!”“God Mark! Do you have to bring up your dick every time you drink?” Frank said exhausted. Mark got up from the other bed, grabbing his bottle. “Dan, I cannot be a part of this shit. I was never beat with anything. I had a few spankings when I was like two. This is fucking weird. I am going to drink with a one of those damn trees out there. Trees don’t want to beat anyone for anything. Just grow and shit…” Mark trailed off and started walking toward the door.“Better follow him, Frank. Make sure he doesn’t pass out in the woods or drown in a ditch,”Frank looked eager to follow Mark. He grabbed a few beers and followed him out. After the door had closed, Dan got up and locked it. Then he chuckled a little. He sat next to Dean whose arms pulled his face an inch above the pillow. The bed frame was high, probably from some nineteen seventies era rummage sale. Dean’s back was arched and there was little he could do reposition himself. Dan rubbed Dean’s bottom slowly. “Please. Just get your hands off me.” “Dean, Dean… I have been wanting to beat the shit out of you since the moment I met you. Your daddy thinks you’re cute, I think you’re a delinquent punk.” Dan began to pat Dean’s ass a little harder. Dean let a wail out and began to cry. Dan got close to Dean’s ear and whispered, “Don’t worry boy, this is not a page out of Deliverance. This is the part where your ass pays in spades for your tongue.”Dean could smell the sweat and beer coming out from Dan’s pores, Dean felt sick. Then he felt Dan undo his belt and then his jeans. Dan pulled down Dean’s jeans and boxers to his knees. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” Dean repeated. Dan pulled a pair of socks from his backpack. “I’m no monster, these are clean.” Dan smiled and shoved the socks into Dean’s mouth. “Don’t drop ‘em Deano.”Dan gave Dean’s bare ass a few slaps. “Guess I am going to try to beat the Devil out of you, boy.” Dean could feel his smile and sneer.Dan pulled his belt through its loops.“On your knees.” Dean heard Dan speak deeper, more sinister.Dan positioned Dean’s knees under his hips so his bottom pushed outward. “You don’t even know how easy your daddy went on you do you?” Dan hissed. He used his belt to give Dean a few sharp taps. Each made the boy jump.Dan pulled on the belt with both hands to test its strength. Satisfied, he wrapped the belt around his right hand. Stretching his arm back he let the belt fly and heard a familiar CRACK. The sound that only happens when the wielder of a belt can send the tip flying faster than the speed of sound. The result is called a sonic boom. The sound is terrifying enough without having to deal with the pain. The skin on Dean’s bottom swelled into a welt. Tears welled in his eyes, his body arched in pain. He had been trying to escape his bonds but was feeling defeated. “Straighten your back, boy. You do NOT want me to have to do this twice.”Dean straightened his back slowly. His arms stretched and strained from their suspended state. He choked on cries and tried to not let the socks loose from his teeth.Dan drew his arm back again and again. He achieved CRACK after CRACK after CRACK. John used the strength of his arms, this bastard was using his the full weight of his body to pivot into the blows. The grunts and muffled screams from Dean were familiar to Dan but foreign to those huddled in the closet. Jenny pushed her hands over her ears and closed her eyes in the suffocating darkness. Sam closed his eyes and prayed, hard, over and over, never letting go of the knife. Knowing it was what stood between them and the monster that was beating his brother. Sammy knew Dean would call out if it got too much. He hoped.“I reckon you might have had enough…” Dan’s arms ached as he rolled them in circles, he looked back at Dean. Welts covered the boy from his lower back to his thighs. “That’s almost what I got weekly, kid. YOU. You are not to say a thing about me ever again. Not to another hunter and not to my face. If you do, remember how easy it was for me to get you alone.” Dean relaxed his arms and allowed himself to weep and fall over on his side. Curling his body to maintain some form of modesty.Dan was finished and when the adrenaline faded, Dan turned away from Dean and grabbed his stomach. “Eh Dean, John leave you any pizza money?” Dan walked over to the closet. Dean spit out the socks and yelled “NO!”The motel door opened. It almost hit Dan in the face. “I thought I…”A very small old lady stepped into the room.“I have been trying to sleep and you fellas! Oh, my God! What is going on here? … What in hell did you do to that kid? I am calling the police!” “I’m leaving, I’m leaving!” Dan said shaking. Dan ran back and grabbed his backpack. The woman grabbed under side of Dan’s arm on the way out and squeezed it until he whimpered. “Now, you get that boy down, you tiny piece of shit!” She said a low growl.Dan grabbed some tiny keys from his pack, held them up, put them in Dean’s hands and raced out the door.Dean fought with the keys until he was freed and pulled up his pants slowly. Now he got a good look at his savior. She was a small round woman, no taller than 4’11 and no younger than seventy. Her grey hair was curled into a cap around her small head. She had an eye patch and one good eye the color of thick cobalt. Her sweater engulfed her in a mass of orange yarn and fuzzy white cat slippers covered her tiny feet. A thin cane propped her up and she heaved the weight of her body against it. She now used it to poke Dean in the shoulder. “What kind of sex thing are you into kid? That man was way too old for you! And look at you! You are all beat up!” Dean tried to explain. He tried to think of lie to keep the weird old lady out of the closet. He tried but his eyes were heavy and he just stopped. To be continued… ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The old lady tapped her cane against the closet door. Then opened it slowly. She found a boy crouched in front of a blond girl, clutching a knife with white fingers. The boy had fierce green eyes and he moved point of the knife up. He rested his weight on his toes and the fingertips of one hand. He looked like he was ready to pounce at any second, armed with a silver knife.“Goodness! I give up!” the old lady said jovially.“Dean!” Sammy yelled quickly. “He’s asleep at the moment. Come on out. I’m just your neighbor… of sorts.” She stepped back and allowed a path for them to exit the closet.“Who the hell are you?”“I’m Dina Gray. I am staying next door. I honestly hope those men will not be returning or I will seriously need to change rooms. You might want to do the same… Unless you enjoy it in there.” Mrs. Grey pointed toward the closet with her cane and smiled so big her one good eye was almost invisible through the folds in her face.Sammy put the knife in his other hand. The one he had been clutching it in was cramped and numb. He slid it back into its place in the closet. He came out slowly his limbs shaking. Jenny rushed out from behind him. “Excuse me!” She bee lined toward the bathroom. Sammy started to walk but one of his legs failed him. He stumbled and caught himself. Then, his stomach let forth an audible growl. “You poor thing! What the hell is your brother into?” Mrs. Gray clicked her tongue and shook her head, “Never mind. Well! You look terrible! How long have you been in there? You poor thing!” She repeated shaking her head slowly, “I made a roast with potatoes and carrots in my crock pot, tonight. You all can have it. I will go get it.”Mrs. Gray hobbled out. Sammy let his legs collapse on the floor. He shut his eyes and opened them trying to adjust to the light. He did not want to trust this woman he had never met, but a home cooked meal never sounded so good. The room smelled like beer, sweat, and whiskey. The open door let in a cool night breeze. Sammy remembered his brother and rushed to his side. Dean was out. He snored loudly. His breathing was deep and slow. Sammy look at Dean’s back. A tight white long sleeved tee shirt clung to his body. The shirt was drenched in sweat and showed a thin line of blood etched by one of Dan’s blows. Sammy looked at his brother. Beaten and broken… for him… and for Jenny. He touched the wet sweaty hair and in a meaningfully breath he said, “Thank you, Dean.”Jenny came out of the bathroom, a little stunned. “What the hell happened Sam?” She looked around the room. She was matching the detritus of the room with the conversations she had heard during the long party. She shook her head. Finding the reality much worse than her imagination. “What the hell? Why is does all this crap keep happening to us? To Dean? Is Dean really part of a weird sex thing?”“No, Jenny. This is just our life…” Sam looked around the room. It stank. He was so hungry he couldn’t think straight.Mrs. Gray opened the door and room suddenly felt warm again and smelled like home cooking. She was hobbling with a picnic basket under her arm. She set it on the kitchen table. She pulled out two plates and some forks. Then some ancient Pyrex containing the main course and a bottle of wine. Sam eyed the bottle of wine, trying to place who it was for. “Umm… I don’t drink…” Sammy said skeptically.“Oh! There was so many beer cans! My mistake. Well it can be for me. Your brother should have some tea though. Go ahead! Dig in!”Sammy knew he should probably not eat food from someone he did not know, but he was starving. “Yes, Ma’am! This smells amazing! Thank you!”Sammy served himself and Jenny a giant serving and then began to eat without looking at his guest or friend. “This is really good!”Jenny poked the meat with a fork and decided through caution to the wind with Sammy and began to eat happily. Mrs. Gray poured herself a coffee cup full of wine. She pulled out a kettle and boiled some water. She made a cup of tea for Dean. She whispered a poem to the cup, “’Happy leaves, somber trees, joy to the boy please.’ You have to try and convince them to work. Laziest leaves I ever met!” The strange words sounded out of place, even if the woman had dementia. Sammy watched the old woman carefully, to make sure hex bags did not appear out of nowhere. He did, however, continue to stuff his face with pot roast. She walked over to Dean. She put her hand on his head and then shook his shoulder. Dean slowly regained consciousness. “Drink this Dear. You will feel much better.”Dean accepted the cup. Grateful she had chased off the Fuller gang. Grateful he was not tied to the bed. She was the first adult to show him kindness in days. He looked her in the eye and smiled. He took a few deep swallows. Then he started blinking his eyes, slowly at first then manically. “What the fuck is in this! Sammy! Sammy. Sammy, the wall is breathing…” After that, Dean closed his eyes again and returned to sleep.“Oh, just about everything I had! In about a day or two, you’ll be good as new. In the meantime, try to think happy thoughts.”“Did you drug my brother?”“Oh, my. Well, just a little.” The old woman pinched her withered fingers in pantomime close to her cheek then put her fingers to her lips in thought, “He was in so much pain. Don’t worry, it’s nothing they wouldn’t give you after a car accident. My old Henry, he was prescribed so many pills. Sometimes he just wanted to check out. I made your brother that tea. He will be fine in about 24 hours. He won’t be in any pain until then.” “You didn’t put anything in the roast or carrots or potatoes?”“No Dear, just meat, potatoes, carrots and, I think, some onions.”Mrs. Gray looked in her basket and pulled out a pie. A cherry pie, homemade with lattice work and large grains of sugar on top. She put the pie on the table and checked a tiny wrist watch. “It’s getting late. Just put the dishes on my door step when you are done. Bang on the wall if you need anything. She pointed to a wall.” She smiled her giant smile again. Then collected her cup, wine and left the two to alone to discuss events. Sam made sure the door was dead bolted and locked. Then he put the table in front of the door. Jenny started shaking her head in disbelief.“Sam, seriously, what the hell? She just pointed to wall facing the woods. I know I have been through some really messed up stuff in the last year but this… this…is too much for me. What the hell did she give him?” Jenny looked back at a peaceful Dean. “Oh my God! The cup is gone. Did she take it with her? What the hell would we tell the police? We let some random woman in to our room and we ate and drank her food like Hansel and Gretel and then she drugged your brother. Oh, yeah, she might live in the woods. I have really worked hard to stay out of social services. I am not ready to go into the system in Bum Fuck, Oregon!”“Jenny, I don’t know, she might have taken the cup and she might just be senile…”“Sam! Your brother is drugged up! How the hell do we know if he needs to go to the hospital? He could wake up dead, Sam. What the hell are we supposed to do?”“Jenny, he is sleeping… Not throwing up, there is no fever, if I call 911 and tell them my brother drank some tea and is now asleep what the hell are they going to tell me?” Jenny’s panic reached a new level. “I think we should watch him! Please, please, Dean, don’t be sick. You think what happened to Dean is bad? Think about that all the time! Sam. This so bad.” Sam’s patience had been worn too thin. “Dude. Chill out, NOW. I cannot think!”“Yeah, because this is my fault!”“Seriously, SHUT UP!”Sammy rubbed his head. Angry and tired, he was in no mood for someone else's drama. Jenny huffed. Sammy cranked his neck from side to side and went over to Dean’s bedside. “You alright, Dean?” Dean opened his mouth wide, eyes still closed. Then promptly shut it. “Dean…”Sam began to untie Dean’s shoes. He put the massive shoes on the floor. Sammy slowly pulled the socks off and then rubbed his brother’s feet pensively. Dean lay on his side. Sammy rolled his brother on his stomach. The older boy was now in the middle of the bed. The wood on the bed frame was chipped from the hand cuffs. Which now lay dangerously next to the bed beside a small set of keys. Sammy did not even think he could touch them. He felt sick. The sounds of Dean muffled screams still rang in his ears.Sammy had grown up listening to Dean’s beatings. But this was brutal. The sound was attenuated through the door and gag, but the painful gasps were clear enough. Sammy slumped his shoulders and stared at Dean, “I’m going to take a shower and then I am going to bed. We can talk tomorrow. We’ll take shifts. Every four hours we’ll switch.”“I can take first watch.”Sam drug a pillow from the bed and tossed it on the floor. He pulled the extra blanket from the closet and threw it in hump next to the pillow. He wrapped Dean up like a burrito with the sides of the comforter. Then trudged in to the bathroom. Jenny cleaned up as best she could. Putting the strange woman’s pie and pot roast in the fridge. She washed and dried the plates and silverware. She threw away beer cans and wiped up. She cleaned up the mess Dean had made of the vegetables and her lump of ill-fated bread. All the trash she threw in bags under the sink. There was very little that could coax her out of that motel until dawn.He brushed his teeth, like he was taught. Folded his clothes, like he was taught. Climbed in the shower and scrubbed and scrubbed, like he was taught to do after a hunt. He wished this ritual would bring some safety. That there was something he had been taught that offer some way to prevent this happening again. Sammy came out in his boxers. He did not even look at Jenny who was thumbing through Mark’s Bukowski in horror.Sammy crumbled onto the floor. He burrowed under the blanket and pulled the thing over his head. Sam cried himself to sleep with tears of frustration and fear. Morning came.Dean had made it through night, but he was still out. Sammy had been staring at him for an hour when Jenny woke up. She got up and made some oatmeal for herself and Sam. She gave him the bowl without saying anything. Jenny looked up from the mush annoyed. She had been annoyed all night and it was going to come out, now.“We need to make a plan, Sam. We need to call someone. Do you have anyone’s number?”“Bobby’s not picking up, Jenny. He’s in freakin’ Canada. It’s only been like four days. He’s should be back in a couple weeks.”“Do you really think we can make it that long, Sam. Maybe we should use the money and get a bus ticket to Richmond. Mrs. Ethel would put us all up and I have friends.” “There is no way I am going to Virginia without telling my dad! Why the hell would we leave we have…”“Look, Sam, we have really nothing but a roof, but it has been so infested with evil we are barely standing. And Dean? Dean isn’t standing!”“Jenny! We are not leaving! We are staying here and further more if you go, you do not even want to know what Dad will do to me and Dean! Look! It’s not as bad as what happened last night, but I am not signing up for it either!”“What if I do leave? You going to spank me? Take off your belt? It’s the way your family solve problems isn’t it?””That’s really low, Jenny.” Sam tossed the bowl of oatmeal in the sink with crash that almost certainly would have shattered it if it had be thrown with a little bit more force. He went into the fridge and grabbed an apple. The bag had been hiding behind a large head of kale.He shut the fridge door hard and went outside not bothering to acknowledge her. She followed him. “Look, I’m sorry… I’m sorry. I am worried. I’m worried about Dean. I am worried if Dean does not wake up, we are going to have call the ambulance and the police. Then they are going to want to know things. Like where the drugs came from. Where the belt marks came from. They might blame you. Or me. Or they might just decide to stick us with some sick redneck worse than Dan.”“Jenny, I’ll protect you. Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.” Sam decided that he was going to have to be strong for her. He took her in his arms. She laid her head on his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. We’ve got food. We’ve got TV. Let’s just keep an eye on Dean and hang out,” Sammy said in his most reassuring voice. As he said the words, he realized how close he was to her. She pulled away and smiled looking into his eyes. It was the closest she had gotten to anyone in long time. She inhaled his sent, it sent tingles through her small body. She tried not blush. They spent the rest of the day eating, talking, laughing, and sitting side by side on the bed watching TV. There was not much progress from Dean. Some time was spent making noise, yelling, poking, experiments with cold water but nothing worked. Dean would stir, talk in incoherent thoughts, tell them to shut the hell up but did not once wake up. They did consider banging on the walls. Neither one of them was brave enough to do it. Sam decided that they would let him rest for the 24hours like the old woman had suggested. Sure enough, nine o’clock rolled round and Dean started to stir…Dean looked around the room. “What the fuck happened?” Jenny and Sammy jumped. “Dean!” Sammy ran over and hugged his brother. “Thank God! How are you? We think that that lady who came over was a witch and she gave you some crazy potion and we have trying to wake you up for like hours! And we were really scared we were going to have to take you to the hospital and then what the hell would we have told them!” “Good God! Sammy breathe! I am probably going to kill Dan Fuller, but I am fine. Son of a bitch! That dude was such a fucking dick! You think I can get Bobby to kick the shit out of him? Wait… Back the fuck up! What the fuck is that about a witch?”Sam and Jenny relayed the whole story. “Damn! Wish that lady had come like… half an hour earlier… Did you say there was a pie?”“Dean!” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Dean did not sleep that night. He watched late movies, drank a few of the remaining beers and even tried to read one of Sammy’s books. “Alright boys and girls! You two are the flabbiest group of nine year olds I have ever SEEN! I am going to get you in shape! Put on your go fasts and un ass! We are doing PT today!”“Are you serious?” Sammy said barely awake, “We had to watch over you for like 24hours. And then you watched movies, like, all night!”“Stop your bitching and get up!”“What time is it?” Jenny asked eyes half open.“It’s morning! Giddy Up, Cowgirl!”Jenny squinted at her Minnie watch. “Jesus, Dean, it’s 6 am!”Dean was already dressed. “No breakfast until you hit two miles!”“WHAT?” Jenny was definitely more awake now. “Come on! I am not going to dump water on you like Dad but I will…” Dean pulled covers away from the tweens like a magician. Sammy gave Dean the death glare, as he rolled to his side. “Oh! … Sorry Sam. Jenny! You get the bathroom first!” Sammy, definitely awake, was very uneager to show Jenny his case of morning wood. “Jerk!” Sammy said shaking his head and pulling out his duffle. Jenny came back dressed in grey t-shirt and mesh shorts with a grey pair of sneakers. Sammy reluctantly got ready as well. “Dean, I have never run a mile before.” “That’s okay, we have all month!” Sammy rolled his eyes. “Let’s start out slow then, we’ll jog downtown and then do sprints in the park. After that, there are some monkey bars we can work on Sammy’s pull ups and get you started on push-ups and sit ups.” Sammy and Dean had completely different bodies. Dean grew muscle easily, burned fat easily, looked ribbed since the time he was eight. Sammy was slim. He was remarkably strong but it did not show. He stayed skinny no matter how much he ate, how much he worked out or sat on his ass. Dean said he was scrappy and silent threat. Sammy agreed. The three stretched and had a brief warm up in the parking lot. They had made it three blocks when Jenny started slowing down. It was four blocks when Sammy pointed out to Dean that he no longer saw her. “Damn it! I haven’t even broken a sweat,” Dean said annoyed. They waited for her, impatiently. Jenny had definitely broken a sweat and was panting. She had her hands on her knees. She used this opportunity to retie her hair and hoped it would look like that was what she stopped for anyway. She flipped her long blond hair downward. As she did necklace on leather rope fell to the ground. It was a smooth grey stone with a symbol carved in it. The symbol was barely recognizable. Sammy ran up to her and handed it to her. “Wait, where did you get this?”“Oh, that? That was from Mrs. Ethel. She asked me if I liked it, she said it was from her sister.” “Can I see it?” Sammy examined the stone intently and then it fumbled out of his grasp. “Umm… Maybe you should not wear this anymore. This is witchcraft Jenny. I mean the stone looks like a regular stone but who knows. We should really look this up before you wear this.”“Are you fucking kidding me? What other kind of weird shit are you carrying with you, Jenny?”“Nothing! I swear!”“Put it in your pocket! Let’s go.” They had to stop for Jenny two more times, luckily she did not leak anymore magical items. When they finally reached the park, Jenny was winded. Dean handed her a canteen out of his backpack. Dean did push-ups and sit-ups. Sammy attempted pull-ups. Jenny managed a very long sit-down. Dean, annoyed at the bad luck charm his father had left them with, decided she needed to learn to fend for herself. He worked her hard. Not as hard as Sammy and himself, but they were used it. Jenny was shaking and had cramps everywhere by the time they were finished. They finally reached the motel room. Jenny had a really hard time making back. She dragged herself along and let the boys disappear from sight. She finally caught up with them, they were showered and were finishing a bowl of cereal. Dean was collecting the laundry. Jenny thought back to when her father had demanded that she and her mother get into fighting shape. #################“Emily, you have to learn to defend yourself!”“Against what Tom? I have never seen any of these monsters you are talking about. It seems to me you might be taking some kind of hallucinogen on these hunting trip of yours. And you have been beating our daughter because of some delusions, and I am tired of it! Your parents were pacifists. That is what I loved about you! You believed that the world was safe enough and rules were not important enough to beat anyone over. Now, Jenny what? Broke a salt line? Lied? Broke a damn doll? How is any of this important enough to compromise your morals?”Little Jenny, who was already in bed, had been becoming numb to their fights. They always ended the same way. Her father would end up mad, drunk as hell and sleeping on the couch. Tonight looked to be same. “I have fucking gone over this! It was a protection doll, I told her to leave alone. You know what I am tired of? I am tired of you making me look like a psycho in front of our daughter. I am tired being the bat shit crazy one! I am the fucking protector of this family!” “Protector… really? You have gone full on crazy, Tom! Your mother was full on crazy. That hack, Bobby Singer, is just as delusional. I have no idea how that man found us but I wish he hadn’t.”Tom was furious. He had been mad before but now he was ready to take action. Staring at her, he picked up the phone and dialed a number without looking at the buttons. That number had been dialed so many times he did not need to anymore. “Bobby, it’s time. Yup. You got anything for me? Great. Start driving, we’ll meet you there? Great. See you in a few. I’m sure, Bobby. Okay.” “Pack a bag. We are leaving in 10 minutes. Pack for three days.”“You are truly crazy if you think I am going anywhere with you.”“Do not test me. Go get Jenny and your things.”“No!”“This is important Emily. Go now!”“Umm. No. NO WAY.”Tom’s face went blank, except for a slight tightening of his lips. “Okay. I guess we are doing this the hard way. I need to talk to you in our room.” “Okay.” Emily motioned for him to go up first.He walked up ahead of her and sat on their bed. Tom had his chin in his hands and his elbows rested on his long legs. His gaze was far away, past the blank wall he stared at now.Emily looked at him. Really looked at him. Probably for the first time in years. He had gotten so strong. He had many more scars and healing wounds on his arms. His hands were always large but now they were worn, and hardened. They were not the hands of analyst, so use to running numbers and holding cups of coffee. He looked more like a warrior. He turned his grey eyes toward her and looked at her with an intensity she did not recognize and did not know was possible. It scared her. She squinted back and said, “What?” She felt like she did when she was a teenager, bringing the car home late and knew she was in trouble. “Do you remember what I said the first night I paddled Jenny?” Her heart was beating faster. “You’re serious? You were out of your mind that night. I almost took Jenny and left. Probably should have.”“Do you remember?”“Yes, Tom! I remember the few sentences we exchanged. I did make it out of the same college, major and as I remember, higher GPA.”“What did I say would happen if I felt you were in danger?” Emily bit her lip and shook her head. She did not know what to think. He had said he would take a hand to her. What did that mean? She, unlike Tom, was spanked as child. For far too long and far too often in her opinion. Her last spanking was at 13, for secretly buying a bikini. Her father came to the pool early to pick her up and she did not have time to change. He pulled her out of the community pool, pulled her into the backseat of their station wagon, pulled down the offending suit and spanked her soundly. She had been mortified. Everyone one she knew would tease her about it for years. Boys would slap her bottom at school. They would call her “Spanky” long past middle school. She went to college out of state to escape the nickname. Her father apparently heard and that was her last spanking. “Answer me.” “If you think I am going to let you spank me like a naughty school girl you have another thing coming! I will pack, I will pack both of us and leave you, Tom.”“You, listen to me! You are going to do what I say when I say because I have something to show you!” “I will not! Women did not get this far, this century, for me to just let you return us to the Stone Age!”In one movement, Tom grabbed her wooden hairbrush and put it on the bed, then grabbed her arm pulled her over his knee, securing her legs with his own. He yanked down her skirt and panties. She felt helpless and squirmed. She almost did not believe this was happening to her when he landed his first SLAP. She clinched her bottom and yelped.It was her first spanking in years! She swore she would never end up there again. This time was scarier, all she could reach was her own bed spread. His legs were stronger than hers, he was much stronger. Tom began slapping her bottom. The spanking at first was just uncomfortable. She winced at each slap but could still talk, complain and shout. What she said was unimportant. Tom had heard it all before. He was tired of it. Then his slaps were deeper and loud. She was getting really angry but still paused to catch her breath after each slap. After about five minutes of this, she was crying and pleading. She apologized and would have said anything to get up. Her small bottom was bright red. Tom tried to think of this as a punishment but spanking his cute wife was turning him on. Then he remembered their fights and the very real monsters she did not believe in and he landed a few more loud slaps to her sit spot. She began to sob quietly and he rubbed her bottom gingerly. “I am giving you this spanking because I need you to pack your things and get in the car. We do not have time for this. You are going with me on a hunt. Bobby is going to watch Jenny. We are meeting him in Missouri. There is a werewolf case. These creatures are evil. They have to be put down. There is no way to keep them from killing once they have had a taste of human blood. I have fought three with John and one with Bobby. This time it will just be you and me. You just need to stay hidden and then you can see.” Emily just sobbed and shook her head. “I don’t want to go,” she repeated. Tom stretched his neck and said, “Apparently, we are not done yet.” Emily arched her back. She tried to look back. “No, Tom!” she managed to say quietly, knowing it would have no effect. Tom picked up the hairbrush and landed a very loud crack. She arched her back and tensed her whole body. He began is assault and she bucked and kicked and tried to escape the mean brush. Her now very red bottom appeared to dance and tried to break free. Finally he stopped.“Are you going to be a good girl, Emily?”She nodded miserably not really knowing what else she could do. “We are not going to have to do this again are we?”She shook her head looking down at the worn hardwood floor of their townhouse. “I better not have to!” Tom landed a final slap her bottom and then released her. “Owwww!” She yelled. She rolled over on her side and was finally able to rub her sore bottom. Tom smiled. That ten hour drive was not going to be easy on her. “I am going to go pack Jenny. Bring along what you would wear camping. Three days Emily,” Tom said sternly.Tom disappeared into Jenny’s room. She had been pretending to be asleep but had heard everything. Emily’s sobs were still loud. She hurried to get her bag packed. “What’s wrong with Mommy?”“Mommy got a spanking, Jenny. Mommy got a spanking.”Tom packed his daughter for three days in South Dakota. Then he packed up his old mustang and watched his wife climb into the car. She shifted from side to side trying to find a spot that did not hurt as much. He gave both of them pillows and blankets. Once they were all in the car and safe, Tom said, “You know we should get some nice clothes for Jenny this Easter. I invited Bobby and Winchesters for dinner.” Emily nodded and looked out the side window. The car shifted into gear and began its long journey to Missouri. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Today, we clean and wash. Tomorrow we hit the beach… Together. And frankly, I do not give a shit whether or not you want to go. We are fucking going to the beach. Both of you owe my ass. Literally. “ Sammy wanted to disagree. He really hated the beach. He always felt so awkward in a swimsuit next to Dean. He was always left digging in the sand, while Dean made friends or made out with friends. Maybe things would be different now that Jenny was here. Laundry was accomplished and the day ended without major incident. Jenny made a delicious sausage and rice for dinner. Dean gave a speech for they left the motel. “Here is how this is going to go down. First of all you will not lose me. You will keep eyes on me where ever I go. You will not get lost. It’s on you. I will not ask you where you are going I will just go. You need to piss. You sure as shit better piss as fast as me when I piss. So do it now. Do not find a monster, ghost, psycho or anything else! Just follow me and try to not look like total nerds. And I repeat. You owe my ass. If you fuck this up for me, I will take it out on yours.” Dean scoped out the “beach”. Dean had completely missed the fact that Portland, OR was landlocked. But, being that this was Troutdale, Blue Lake Park was very close. It was a giant lake with a small piece of artificial beach. It had a little stand that served ice cream cones, snow cones and drinks. Luckily it had exactly what Dean was looking for: girls. Girls on bikes, girls in swimsuits, girls sitting with other girls. He looked around to find his favorite type of girls, girls that were not talking to other boys. Dean surveyed the beach. “You, two, do not leave, this,” he motioned around the beach, “this, area. Do not drown, do not get taken, do not leave this area… Clear? Clear?” Dean received relieved nods. Following Dean around all day did not sound like fun. Sammy and Jenny found a shady spot to pass the time. Dean found a two adoring girls to talk to. Their names were Sara and Erin. Sara had long dark hair that was pulled tightly into a bun. She had rich tan skin and a far off look in her eyes. Erin had short blond hair and freckles. Erin was bubbly, attentive, tall and lean. Sara sat stoically in classic black swimsuit covered by a white gauze shirt and blue jean shorts. Erin wore a tiny blue and white polka dot bikini and sat awkwardly on a towel. Both girls faced each other on a shaded table. One drinking water out of a green bottle and the other drinking a coke. Dean came up to the table and flashed his best smile. “This seat taken?” “Go ahead,” Sara smiled and motioned to a seat. “I’m Dean.” Sara offered her hand and Erin just waved. “Sara, this is Erin. You look new here.” “Yeah, me and my brother are here for awhile…What’s there to do around here?” Dean ran a hand threw his hair. Again flashing a toothy grin. Sara leaned over and grabbed his hand again gently. She examined his hand and wrists. “What the hell happened to you?” Dean pulled his hand away, “It’s nothing really, just an accident really.” “Seriously,” Sara said her voice almost cracking, “Lindsay, she had those marks on her wrists when they found her.” “Oh My God, you’re right!” Erin said. “Of course I am,” Sara said quickly. “Now, where did those come from?” Dean knew where this was headed. “I was almost arrested, I kind of got away. The cop put these zip ties on my wrists.” Erin’s eyes widened, “The cops sent out a warning, they said don’t use zip ties, they use metal cuffs. There was a serial killer using them and dressing up as a cop. Oh, my God! That is really freaky. You are, like, really, really lucky.” Erin said concerned “I guess so,” Dean said smiling. “Did they catch the guy?” “Sort of, he was found stabbed at the Piney Grove. Totally, random.” “Man, I did not know we had stumbled into such a dangerous place.” “Normally its pretty chill here. The news is all weather and garden competitions. This summer has been crazy. I think, the cop killed like 4 teenagers?” Sara said looking at Erin, who nodded her head, “and a drifter… Yeah then they found him. That’s it… Unless you count Charlie. Charlie tried to jump of the gorge. Total idiot. I mean honors student, but total idiot! Who does that?” “What about the dentist who drank himself to death?” “Umm. Alcoholic? Not a surprise there.” “He went to my church Sara! There is no way!” “Erin! People who go to church drink. Dumb. So dumb. How do you live?” Erin just huffed and shook her head. “Okay, what about cracker guy? That was totally weird.” “You are not totally retard! I am so proud!” “Bitch! I know!” “Ha, ha, still dumb. But yeah, totally weird. He choked on, twenty crackers…” “I think it was fifty.” “You’re right, it might have been fifty.” “There was also that lady who tried to run jump train tracks… Gross.” “Totally gross. Weird summer.” “Oh, and police officer that tried to streak across I5? Also Gross. Also weird.” “Very, good! She tries so hard!” Sara patted her arm, Erin just rolled her eyes. Dean, who was enjoying the attention, now began to worry there was a case in this godforsaken town, his dad ditched them in. Dean rubbed his forehead and tried to think of a damn monster that would make people act this reckless. Taking in a breathe and then smiling, he asked, “So how do you girls stay out of trouble or get into it around here?” Sara and Erin now giggled to each other. “Wouldn’t you like to know…” Sara smiled. Erin looked at Sara and then said, “We get high, listen to CDs or go to movies, you know, regular stuff.” Sara seemed embarrassed. “Yes, we do that sometimes.” “You wanna get high? We brought some.” Erin said smiling. “Yeah.” Dean said smiling. “Then follow us, but just act cool. Those bastards will follow us if they think we are not just going on a hike,” Sara said in her best spy impersonation. Dean gave her a half smile and headed in with them. Sara walked straight ahead not looking back for about ten minutes. They followed winding trails and diverged passed them. Sara produced a joint, lit it and inhaled. She handed the joint to Dean who did the same, and then handed it Erin. As Erin took a drag, they heard rustling down the path. Erin dropped the joint, coughed and stomped on the thing with an impossibly high sandal despite Sara’s frantic motions to give it back. The footsteps seemed to be coming their way. Dean braced, got down on one knee to get his knife. He shook his head, Dean was really tired of this bad luck. “Daphne? What the hell are you doing here?” Sara said in disgust. When Dean saw Daphne he forgot about the knife, he looked at her awe struck. He wasn’t sure what was in the pot but he would swear that looked as if a green halo of light surrounded her. “Who are you?” Dean said as he reached a hand up and grabbed a dark curl. “You always act so weird?” she asked backing away. “Seriously, what the fuck are you doing here? We are trying to have a good time and do not need your fat ass ruining it.” “Seriously? I assume you are jealous because this ass is perfect,” Daphne pretended to burn her fingers touching her hip. Daphne was a mass of woman and head of brown curls. Much later on, when she was in college Sara would think back to Daphne, forgetting her cruelty and remembered how Daphne’s form . It seemed to mirror the ancient fertility goddesses. Dean did not need a prehistoric statue to tell him this woman oozed beauty and vitality. Daphne twitched her nose. “What are you smoking? Sara, your shit it terrible. You really wanna get high?” Dean was staring intently and said, “Yeah, of course.” “Who the fuck is this? You don’t live in Troutdale, do you?” “This is Dean, we met him at the lake,” Erin smiled. Erin was generally kind and sweet, unless you turned your back. Dean flashed his winning smile. Daphne’s eyes narrowed, “Don’t lose your shit on me, Romeo.” “Okay,” Dean smiled. Daphne produced a pipe and proceeded to pack it. “Sit down,” She commanded and they all did. She took a hit and passed it to Sara, who passed it to Erin, who passed it to Dean, who forgot anyone else was with them. “Does he always stare?” Sara started laughing, “Oh, my God! I don’t know!” Erin giggled and fell back into a pile of leaves. Dean looked at the girls confused. Sara looked at Erin and laid back with her. They looked up at the sky, nearly incoherent. Dean shook his head a little and looked at his watch. Sammy and Jenny had been wandering around for three hours. He should probably check on them. “Hey are you guys okay?” “Totally,” Erin said closing her eyes. “This is the best, I mean this is what life is, you know?” Sara answered. “Yep… Okay, I have to go back and check on my younger brother and his girl, start yelling if you need anything.” “Totally. I am hearing you on like three different levels.” “Yep…You need help out of here?” “No. NO. Don’t take me away. I swear, I will scream.” Sara said angrily. “That would be my cue. It was very nice meeting you, thank you for the pot, please do not die in the woods, I would feel bad about that, but not as bad as if something happened to Sammy so…See you later.” Dean started to head down the path. “You coming?” he called back to Daphne. “Okay,” she followed him amused.
10312235	Mistakes	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Tsukishima Kei, Tendou Satori", "Fandom": "Haikyuu!!", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by the_delusional_fan", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-15T00:00:00", "words": "2,071", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, poor attempt at humor, tsukki is a NERD, Tendou is a cryptid, Nothing new here, guys being dudes, Pre-Relationship, excessive amounts of accidents, accidental hand holding", "Relationship": "Tendou Satori/Tsukishima Kei", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "HQ Rare Pair Exchange 2017", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	It’s a quarter past ten on a particularly cold December night. Tsukishima sighs as he drags himself up three flights of stairs, the familiar but aggravating ache in legs burning even more so than during practice. He regrets agreeing to Ushijima’s request to stay after practice to work on blocking. Not that he minded the spiker—he had learned he was quite mild mannered and polite upon joining the same university as him. Despite being two years his senior, Ushijima requested that he give him points on blocking, even with the infamous ex-guess blocker, Tendou Satori, at his disposal. Needless to say, Tsukishima was quite flattered and could not turn him down.Still, in hindsight, Tsukishima wished he had declined in favor of spending a night not nursing his legs while marathoning The Land Before Time . He’d much rather watch his movies pain-free.Turning the key in the lock, the tall blonde leans his body weight on the door and fumbles into his dorm. He somehow manages to toss his sports bag a good deal across the room with his jello-like arms and collapses on ground. He spreads his limbs, using their length to kick the door shut before sprawling into a more comfortable position.Tsukishima usually would not be caught dead in a position like this but alas he was in solitude and free from the judgement of others and therefore free to do the hell as he pleased. Tsukishima lets out another sigh, this time one of relief instead of exasperation, and closes his eyes. He opens his eyes eventually, feeling more pain than when he first lied down (or rather fell down). Ignoring the pangs in his neck and stomach, he pulls his phone out of his pocket which reads 1:26.“Ugh, not again.” Tsukishima pulls his hand down his face before painfully rising to his feet and shedding several layers of clothing. If he thought he was sore just an hour ago, he certainly was mistaken.Showering and crawling into bed are the only things on Tsukishima’s mind now. Hunger pains be damned his fatigued muscles begged to be satiated with much needed rest. As he continues stripping, he manages to find the decency to throw his sweat-soaked clothes into a hamper propped against the wall before heading into the shower.The hot water felt good. The kinks in his neck and soreness in the rest of his body seem to flow with the layers of filth and suds down the drain. In this moment of bliss Tsukishima decides that instead of going to sleep immediately after this to keep his sleeping schedule, he will treat himself just this once.Now refreshed and ready to spend the night in much needed isolation, Tsukki dresses himself in his most comfortable dino-paw print pajamas (which he would never let anyone catch him in ever), making sure to button them up properly before fixing up the dorm. He props open the window to let out steam from the shower and the stench from his clothes. Moving on, Tsukishima makes his way to the fridge, humming while pulling out a tray at its side to set a glass of milk and a slice of strawberry shortcake on it.When he finally sits down on his beanie chair, loaded tray on lap, and movie ready to play, Tsukishima feels like a king. He’s a good way into the first movie when he hears a dull pang from behind him. Tsukishima turns his head to find nothing and shrugs it off as an unfortunate spooked bird that flew the wrong way.“Wow I heard rumors but I didn’t know it was this bad ,” a voice suddenly speaks near his ear.Tsukishima, jerking away from the sound, nearly chokes on the milk in his mouth. “Jesus—!” “You dino loving nerd, didn’t Wakatoshi tell you I was coming over?” The voice now has a smug face, spiky red hair.It’s Tendou, Tendou freaking Satori, who is somehow here in his room at two in the morning and witnessing in Tsukishima in his most vulnerable state.“No, get out,” Tsukishima is surprised his voice is as steady and calm as it is though he is still more perplexed about how the hell this man got in here in the first place.“You can’t kick me out of Wakatoshi’s room,” Tendou teases, leaning closer to the frazzled blond.Tsukishima promptly pushes him away, “you are mistaken, this is my room. Get out.”“Oh my bad!” Tendou throws up his hands eyes ghoulishly wide, before just as quickly shifting to a softer demeanor while rubbing his head sheepishly. How this being changes expressions disturbs Tsukishima to his core. “You see Waka-kun usually leaves his window open for me to come in thr—”“You climb three stories on the side of a building covered in ice and snow in instead of using the front entrance?” Interrupts, finding even more bizarre qualities to make him question the thing before him.“Hey that would require poor Wakatoshi to to climb a total of 6 flights of stairs after volleyball practice. That’s just cruel. Plus it’s more fun this way.” Tendou says this like it’s the most normal thing in the world. So normally that Tsukishima has to remind himself that scaling a building in the dead of night the visit a friend is most certainly not normal.“Anyways,” Tendou continues without giving Tsukishima to further ponder his feat, “since l’m supposed to spend the night I’m just gonna stay here ok. I’m not going back out in that snow.”“No, you can go to Ushijima-san’s place now,” Tsukishima reasons with what he thinks is Tendou’s logic. It still doesn’t sit right with him but dwelling on it too much is going to make his headache worse.“But his window was shut that means he’s sleeping. It’s no fun watching movies by yourself you know,” Tendou whines while looking as exasperated as Tsukishima feels.“Come on please?” he continues after sensing the other man’s growing aggravation, “I even brought a bunch of snacks.” Tendou is back up close and personal begging with eyes the size of saucers. His movements and deposition are so surreal, Tsukishima wonders if he truly ever woke up and is still on the ground in his layers of coats and sweat experiencing a fever dream.Tsukishima decides it is too late into the night to think on such things. Like it was ever possible to understand the read-haired freak at any other time anyway. He might as well exploit his presence for something beneficial. “Okay but you have to work the knots out of my legs.”“Deal!” Tendou accepts with a toothy grin.“I’ve got popcorn, poptarts, pocky, ice cream and more. What would you like?”“I’m ok with what I have,” Tsukishima motions to the tray on his lap.“Alright Tsukki-kun,” Tendou stands with a previously unseen bag in hand.“Please don’t call me that.” Tsukishima feels a headache coming on already.“Also, where’s your microwave, Tsukki-kun?” Tendou asks while surveying the room, “I want to pop some corn and tarts before we start.”Tsukishima rolls his eyes. “I didn’t bring one with me, I use the kitchen downstairs.”“Tch. How inconvenient.” He looks around once more and his eyes catch something perfect for the job. “Oh you have a toaster I’m ok now.”A long held breath escapes Tsukishima’s as he listens to the other man crinkle wrappers and click the toaster in place. When he hears the footsteps of the redhead heading towards him he decides to move the tray and lie down for the massage. However movement is still trying and he winces as he slides onto his stomach.He hears a chuckle from Tendou who clearly witnessed and enjoyed his discomfort. “Now let me help you with those muscles.”Excited to work his magic Tendou plops right on down and begins examining the other man’s leg with his fingers. “I’m quite good at this too since I had to do stuff like this for Wakatoshi-kun.”Tsukishima flinches at the touch, a bit too much for how sensitive he was at the moment. “I hope your actions live up to your words then,” he mumbles into his arms.“Oh they will,” the other boasts.“Cool, that means there’s no need for you to open your mouth again now is there?” he smirks.“Hey!” Tendou squeezes his calf hard. And Tsukishima kicks his knee. Tendou’s hands were like magic on the court. On his legs, that was an understatement. They were divine. Tsukishima could hardly focus on the movie and found himself lost in the massage. What initially started out as pain gave way to pleasure under Tendou’s fingers. Tsukishima relaxed into the feeling with a sigh, the knots in his calfs beginning to release. As Tendou’s hands worked their way up his leg the blond inhaled deeply. His nostrils were filled with the equally pleasant smells of his cake, the fresh cold air, and burning.“What’s that smell,” Tsukishima cranes his neck to look back at Tendou who has paled significantly at his words, his eyes stare off wide at something unseen.“Oh no the popcorn,” he trembles.Tsukishima squints putting together their conversation from earlier about poptarts, popcorn, and the toaster. Tsukishima’s eyes widen. “Don’t tell me you---” BEEP BEEP BEEP The fire alarm blares and flashes before the sprinklers go off which do nothing to quell the flames rising from the toaster.“FIIIIIIIIRE!!!!” Tendou shrieks while yanking Tsukishima to feet by the arm and running for the door. Tsukishima doesn’t even have the time to register the glass of milk spilling over the ankle of his pj pants as he allows himself to be swept away by the surprisingly strong readhead. He doesn’t bother to think about the snow on his bare feet or the fact that his is standing outside at two in the morning, holding the hand of a man he barely knows, with all his peers able to see him in all his dino pj clad glory. Tsukishima has officially clocked out.“Great night huh?” Tendou faces Tsukishima with smile, the light of the growing fire glimmering in his eyes.“What kind of person makes popcorn in a toaster?” Tsukishima glares at the uncannily content redhead.“Hey you didn’t say your toaster wasn’t the kind that couldn’t. You didn’t even question me,” Tendou shoots back.Tsukishima has to stop his jaw from hanging. He almost can’t believe anyone would even think toasters had a popcorn function. But it is Tendou. “Listen, I thought you were only heating up the poptarts.”“Well it looks like you should have asked, right?” Tendou asks like this is Tsukishima’s fault for having common sense.“If I ever catch you setting foot in this building again I will not hesitate to push you down the stairs,” Tsukishima answers.“Well it’s a good thing you’re coming over to my place next time.” Tendou releases his grip on the blond’s hand, standing on his toes to place that arm over his shoulder.Tsukishima cannot find the energy to throw the arm off. “Excuse me?”Tendou waves his free hand. “Hey man I still owe you that massage plus I can through in an actual microwave and meal of your choice .” He puts extra emphasis on the ‘your’ as he points his finger dangerously close to Tsukishima’s nose.Tsukishima pushes this arm away with a scowl. “After all this you really expect me to accept this proposition?”Tendou laughs heartily, drawing his arms back to his side before clapping his hands together. “Cool next weekend at seven just tell me what you want by then.”And like the mysterious, chaotic being he is, Tendou stuffs a paper with his number on it into Tsukishima’s breast pocket before disappearing off into the night, presumably to escape charges of arson and the wrath of the students.Numb from the proceeding events, Tsukishima decides to humor him once more. After all he can figure out how to get back at the guy by then and the free food and a massage are guaranteed bonuses. He takes his phone from the pocket in his pants and puts in the number. Tsukishima: I enjoy strawberry shortcake and anything that compliments it. Tendou: (ʘ∇ʘ)b Tsukishima feels something in his chest. He should be able to make this worth his while.
10301591	Light in the Darkness	{ "Archive Warning": "Rape/Non-Con", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Lucius (Fallout), Original Female Character(s), Caesar (Fallout), Vulpes Inculta, Male Courier, Legion Character(s), Siri (Fallout), Aurelius (Fallout), Aurelius of Phoenix, Canyon Runner, Cursor Lucullus, Lucullus (Fallout)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by ViciousKitten", "chapters": "16/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-12T00:00:00", "words": "38,449", "Additional Tags": "Slavery, Dubious Consent, Fluff, Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Implied/Referenced Death in Childbirth, Implied/Referenced Stillbirth, Menstruation, Misogyny, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Awkward Sexual Situations, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Sexual Tension, Falling In Love, it's so fluffy I'm gonna die, Blow Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Awkward First Times, Multiple Orgasms, POV Alternating, Masturbation, Public Masturbation, Light Dom/sub", "Relationship": "Lucius/Original Female Character", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Fallout: New Vegas, Fallout (Video Games)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“That’s it for now. Dismissed.” Caesar’s officers stood and saluted him at his dismissal and began to exit their sovereign’s private chamber with also served as a meeting room and command center. “Lucius, you will stay.” Lucius immediately turned around to face Caesar.“Of course, my lord. Is there something wrong?” Caesar held up a finger to indicate he was waiting for the other men to leave and shot warning glances at those straggling, obviously intent on trying to overhear what the two men would be discussing. When the last officer closed the tent flap behind him, Caesar looked up at Lucius, still standing by his side.“Have a seat, Lucius,” Caesar said as he motioned to the chair to his left. It sounded like a friendly invitation, but Lucius knew better so he pulled out the chair and sat down. He watched as Caesar looked blankly ahead, seemingly unsure of what to say. Then he blinked his eyes a few times and shook his head before returning his gaze to the praetor."You haven't had a wife in a while, Lucius. A few years, by my count." Caesar began with almost a fatherly concern before taking a sip of purified water from an ornately carved wooden chalice. Lucius shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Of all the topics they could and should discuss – crucifixion of profligates, newly acquired territory, allocation of resources – Caesar wanted to talk about his bachelor lifestyle and it made his stomach drop. Caesar chuckled at his guard's embarrassment as he drew the cup away and set it on the table before him.“Yes, my lord. It’s been about four years.”“You know as a high ranking legionary you have the responsibility to be producing heirs, to be building a stronger Legion. I know your last woman died in childbirth, but you cannot get so attached, Lucius. That is a woman’s purpose, to bare children. She obviously wasn’t up to the task. And in your, what? Grief? You’ve squandered the past four years without taking a new wife. Four years, Lucius.” Caesar’s tone was sharp and the careless mention of his wife’s death sent a pang of renewed heartache through Lucius. In the next moment, Caesar’s mood lightened up and he chuckled to himself, "I hope you've been at least fucking something other than your hand!"The shocked expression on Lucius' face revealed that he hadn't. The ruler then laughed gregariously, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Caesar closed his fist and imitated a stroking motion followed by a raspberry that left droplets of spittle on Lucius' beard.This was one of the moments where Lucius had to wonder if this was truly the Son of Mars who sat before him or an overgrown, poorly behaved child. Caesar's mental state seemed to be in a sharp decline as of late, causing his officers to exchange concerned glances and hushed whispers when he wasn't present. The debilitating headaches and memory loss had Lucius taking a larger role in the leadership of the Legion. Those responsibilities should have fallen to Legate Lanius, but he was currently stationed on the Strip, clearing it of the human filth and the evidence of their decadent and salacious lifestyle. Lucius' eyes roamed the tent to avoid looking at Caesar: from the oversized plush bed, to the useless Auto-Doc, to the weird stain on the canopy of the tent that almost looked like a..."I - I mean..." Lucius refocused on Caesar as he caught his breath and regained his composure, "I just don't know what the big deal is. It's just pussy when it comes down to it. Doesn't need to have a pretty face. Fuck, doesn't even need to be willing. It's just some pussy.”"Thank you for your concern, My Lord. It's just with the Battle for the Dam...""Well, that's over now." Caesar interrupted, "We won. Time for you to celebrate, get your dick wet and fuck a baby into some girl.” Lucius inwardly cringed. “This isn’t some prewar romantic movie shit those degenerate fucks eat up, Lucius. This is the survival and future of our great society.”"I understand.”"Six should be returning shortly with a new batch of slaves from New Vegas. You have first pick." When Lucius didn't respond with the expected enthusiasm, Caesar's mood turned sour. The Praetorian caught onto the shift and tried to recover."You are most gracious, Lord." Lucius replied with a nod of his head, his reservation very apparent."This is an order, Lucius." Caesar spoke sternly, eyes narrowed. "Now get the fuck out.”Lucius rose from his seat and crossed his arm over his chest, "Vale, Caesar!" Then turned sharply on his boot heel and exited the ruler's private chamber. He heard snickering to the right of Caesar's throne. His brows furrowed in disgust as he caught the leader of the Frumentarii in his periphery, "Screw you, Inculta.""Such an empty threat, apparently, Lucius," Vulpes sneered. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Stupid, traitorous, cocksucking, backstabbing..." a swift backhand across her face was all it took to shut Ellie up. Motherfucker. She thought to herself and she probed her newly split lip gently with her tongue. She tasted blood. Also... asshole.She, and the other recently acquired slaves trudged along the dusty road that wound upwards to the Fort in a single file, bound together by a length of chain through their slave collars. Flanked by eight legionaries, there was no chance of escape. The other women hung their heads while silent tears left their marks on dirty cheeks."Better watch yourself, woman. You're on your way to auction. And sorry to say," he paused to reconsider his words. "Scratch that, not sorry because I don't need to worry about the feelings of a slave," he sneered, "but you're not exactly the pick of the litter. I highly doubt anyone is going to coughing up their denarius to buy you. You'll be open stock. Free for the using. And I'm sure plenty of legionaries will take great satisfaction in putting that filthy mouth to work.""The hell they will!" Ellie snorted. He grabbed her by her hair as they continued to walk, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes were wide at the initial shock and the jolt of pain, but immediately narrowed in defiance.He huffed, exasperated. "You just don't get it, do you? You're fucked. Figuratively and, soon to be, literally. Your best bet at this point is to get assigned latrine duty. Not too many soldiers want to stick their dick in a woman covered with shit." He released her hair roughly, casting Ellie away from him with the motion. She stumbled and almost brought down the rest of the captives with her. She righted herself and sighed."My God, Six. What happened to you?" Ellie looked at him with pity. He turned away from her, not answering. She continued to watch him and saw the rage begin to build in him, simmering under the surface.After a few minutes he turned back towards her, his eyes glossed over with anger as he thumbed the hilt of the combat knife at his waist. He leaned towards her, his breath hot and sticky of her neck. "I've decided that I will buy you."A chill ran down her spine and for the first time since being captured, she was truly terrified. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Lucius seethed with anger as he left Caesar's tent. He wasn't a child. He couldn't believe he had honestly been ordered to get himself a wife. Wife. Lucius rolled his eyes. I suppose that is easier than saying ‘personally owned officer’s slave girl”. In many ways, he saw the practicality of slavery in their society. Having the menial daily tasks taken care of allowed the legionaries to focus on honing their skills as soldiers. He also knew that the female "companionship" was important to the men's morale. For him though, having relations with a woman while she was crying and begging him to stop left little to be desired. He personally felt the whole practice was unseemly. A wife though, was a citizen and not a slave. He doubted that whoever she ended up being would not see it that way.Lucius was getting older, besides. Thirty-eight as of last spring if he remembered correctly. The Legion always took young women and girls - most women over thirty were executed with the rest of their settlement unless the possessed highly desired skills. With the dwindling possibility of being able to conceive and carry a pregnancy to term, they were considered a waste of resources. If the thought of being forced to take a wife wasn't unsettling enough with all implied expectations, imagining being with a woman when he was old enough to be her father was nauseating. Lucius walked around the back of Caesar's tent to a small cluster of tents for the officers stationed at the Fort. He ducked into the cool darkness of his own to enjoy the solitude and privacy he had for so many years. That was about to end. He knew he had the option of sending her away to sleep in the slaves' barracks but he felt a sort of responsibility for his property. To ensure it was undefiled by the other men would be the Legion's reasoning, but Lucius couldn't help remembering his own father who instilled a need to protect women into him. Memories he could never admit to and opinions he could never voice unless he was looking to be crucified. He gazed around his tent - maybe a women's touch wouldn't be such a bad thing. He straightened out the books on his desk into a semi-neat stack and made a half-hearted attempt to make his bed. He stood next the bed, staring at it, feeling the weight of Caesar's expectations staring him in the face."Lucius, sir?" called a recruit legionary from the flap of his tent. Lucius jumped as if his trepidations had been discovered. He cleared his throat."What is it?""Lord Caesar commands you to know the new shipment of slaves has arrived." Lucius' stomach lurched."Thank you, Recruit. Ave, true to Caesar." The young soldier replied in kind and Lucius heard his footsteps departing.Taking a final glance around his tent, Lucius ran a shaky hand through his graying hair and inhaled deeply. Despite his misgivings and personal feelings on the subject, he was loyal to Caesar and would follow his orders.Lucius exited his tent and made his way down to the area of the camp that housed the slaves. The air was thick with the scent of human excrement and body odor. He wrinkled his nose. Six raised his hand in greeting he saw the guardsman approaching. "Salve, Lucius! Surprised to see you down here.""I thought it was about time to get a new wife," Lucius replied evenly. Obviously a lie, but he didn't want the other men knowing he was being forced into this. Hopefully Vulpes had enough decorum to keep that sensitive piece of information to himself."Well, you're definitely in luck. We've got a great bunch here. Young, healthy, beautiful. Big tits, little tits. What's your pleasure?" the former courier smiled widely as he motioned grandly to the trembling mass of women.Just follow your orders Lucius reminded himself as he surveyed the stock. Teary eyes glanced up fearfully at him. New Vegas certainly had been a melting pot if this lot was any indication: dark skinned beauties with cascading black hair, fair complexions with blonde or red hair, freckles, no freckles. All of them so different, all of them the same - afraid. Except one.She sat off to the side, alone. Her posture and countenance revealed a quiet indignation as she leaned against the split rail fence of the pen. She looked almost bored and inconvenienced as she picked at her fingernails. She looked young, but not quite as young as the other women. Her dark auburn hair was shaven around the sides and back of her head, but the top was left longer and fell to one side. She had a full mouth and a slightly crooked nose. Full brows arched over deep set eyes - he wondered what color they were. Her neck was long and her..."That one's trouble, Lucius." Six said hurriedly when he saw where the older man's gaze had fallen. "Is that so?" Lucius cocked his head to the side his eyes not leaving the woman."Indeed. So much trouble that I," Six cleared his throat. "I had decided to buy her myself. You know, t-to save everyone else the um... well, trouble ." Six chuckled. Lucius raised an eyebrow and turned to face the younger man. He knew the courier's type: sadistic, cruel. The Legion was the perfect refuge for men such as these - a place where they could indulge in their dark fantasies."Well, Six, I appreciate your concern in looking out for your brothers," Lucius said, biting back his sarcasm. Let me take a closer look at her." Six clenched his jaw, but nodded."You. Come here," Six called out to the woman still lounging on the fence. All the slaves looked around to see who he was talking to except for her. She continued to stare at her hands. "For fucks sake," he muttered under his breath then bellowed, "Ellie!" Lucius found it curious that Six knew this woman's name. That was very unusual but before he could contemplate it more, Ellie approached noisily as the shackles clanked around her ankles. She stood before the two men on the other side of the gate, her expression vacant. She did not meet their eyes."Stand up straight," Six ordered. She did. "Turn. Slowly." She did. Six reached across the fence to grab her chin and her eyes flashed with fury. Hazel eyes noted Lucius. "Open your mouth." At this command she hesitated and Six squeezed her jaw until she complied. "Teeth are in good shape." Six remarked to Lucius maintaining the pressure on her face long past necessity."Mmm," Lucius hummed in agreement and Ellie finally met his stare and shook her head free of Six's grip."You can see she has a real stubborn streak. But breaking them is definitely half the fun." Six leered at Ellie, then shrugged. "Just never figured you were into that, Lucius. Seems to be a younger man's game." Six playfully elbowed Lucius in the ribs. Lucius scowled at him in warning."Watch yourself, Decanus," Lucius hissed. "I may be an old man but I've earned my place in the Legion. Fought for it, paid for it with blood." He very rarely pulled rank, but he'd be damned if he was going to let an impudent little shit like Six speak to him that way. Lucius began walking away before calling over his shoulder, "Woman! Come with me." He barely slowed down as he heard the gate to the slave pen creak open and the Six unlock the chains around her ankles."Awww, too bad, Six," she said in a syrupy voice before scurrying after her new master and leaving the courier in a cloud of dust.Lucius paused when he heard her approaching and turned to face her. She took a deep breath."Hey, thanks, Lucius, was it? That guy is such a dick." Lucius closed the space between them in a single stride and grabbed her upper arms roughly, making her gasp. She winced as his grip tightened and he pressed his fingertips into her triceps."Let me make a few things clear to you, profligate. Firstly, you will never say anything disrespectful about any legionary again. Not to me, not to another slave. No one. Look at me." She raised her eyes to meet his and he continued. "Secondly, you may never speak to me in front of others unless you have be spoken to. And lastly, when you are allowed to speak, you will address me as 'my lord' or 'Maritus'. Is that understood?" She nodded quickly. "Try again." He said darkly as he shook her."Y-y-yes, my lord," Ellie replied in a strained whisper. Lucius released her, noting the red marks on her arms. Damn it. He knew he had frightened her, but her brashness would get them both whipped or worse. Still, this was not the first impression he had hoped to make."Follow me." And she did. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- By the time she had reached the Fort, Ellie had resigned herself to her fate. Slave. Property of Caesar's Legion. Faceless, nameless. Soon to be bought by the former Courier, Six, used in whatever heinous ways he could imagine. If the conversation between the legionaries was any indication, he had quite the imagination. She knew she shouldn't have provoked him the way she had, but it was just so hard to understand how the handsome, young man with impeccable manners and a million cap smile had turned into a Legion informer and cold-blooded killer. They had spent hours upon hours chatting about every topic imaginable as she kept his coffee cup full and sneaked him slices of pie on the house when he would frequent the small cafe in Vault 21 where she worked. He would innocently flirt with her and while she did nothing to encourage him, she didn't dissuade him either. If he thought Ellie was closer to his age than she was, who was she to correct him? Ellie never considered Six anything in the vicinity of a potential lover. If anything, little brother would have come the closest if one were to put a title on it.When Ellie heard the howitzers firing as the second battle for Hoover Dam began, she worried for his safety. When he returned to Vault 21, the feeling of relief was almost euphoric. But her relief quickly turned to confusion when she noticed the dozen or so legionaries behind him. Then confusion turned to fear as the soldiers began slaughtering all but a few of the patrons around her. Six had pointed her out to one of his men and said, "She lives." Her fear turned to horror as she watched Six hack a man in a pinstripe suit into pieces and laugh, his eyes sparkling with delight. Ellie's blood ran cold. Killing was part of life in the Mojave. It just was. Ellie had killed a few people herself in self defense. She was neither proud nor ashamed, but she derived no pleasure in taking the life of another. Six, on the other hand, seemed to revel in watching the light go out someone's eyes. He was cold, calculating, merciless. This became more apparent as they had traveled from New Vegas and met refugees along the way and he had blazed a trail of death from the Strip to Cottonwood Cove.Ellie reclined against the fence. The auction would begin shortly. She looked at the other women who had been brought in with their group. They were terror stricken and rightfully so. They knew what was on the horizon. Six was right. Ellie regarded her tattered dress and dirty, blistered feet. She didn't know what her complexion looked like, but with as dirty as the rest of her was and a newly split lip, she could imagine. No one else is going to buy me. She swallowed hard, the pressure of the slave collar on her trachea was an unnecessary reminder of how deep the pile of shit she was in actually was. And yet, she was happy when the slave masters had removed the chain connecting all of them. It allowed her to gain a little personal space. Keep finding that silver lining, girl. You're gonna need it.Ellie sighed and saw legionaries going about various tasks: sharpening blades, conducting drills, nailing some unfortunate sonofabitch to a cross. Life at Fortification Hill. She observed an older legionary with a stern expression approaching Six. The way the other soldiers regarded him showed he was someone of importance. Probably leader of the gang rape crew. Ellie turned her attention to her broken fingernails and wondered how many legionary eyeballs she could gouge out before they killed her."Ellie!" Her head snapped up. Six was calling her. She stood up ungracefully and stretched a little before trudging over to the gate where Six was still talking to the older man and stood in front of of them. She responded to Six's instructions in perfect obedience, but when that motherfucker laid his hands of her, she almost lost it.The older man was watching her in sharp appraisal. Ellie looked at him evenly. He had deep blue eyes that looked almost kind and his black hair and beard were peppered with silver. Handsome...for a monster. She continued to watch as Six goaded him and saw the flash of anger that crossed his eyes. Then he was striding away."Woman. Come with me." he called to her.She couldn't help making a snide remark to Six who looked like he had been kicked in the balls at the loss of his intended prize. Still a slave, but at least not his. It was a small victory. And a short-lived one, at that.Her new master's strong hands dug into her upper arms as he chastised her and spouted off rules of conduct. Ellie's face burned with shame. How dare reprimand her like a child in view of everyone. How dare he reprimand her at all. Maritus? What the fuck does that even mean? Still, there was a lack of sadism as his eyes bore into her's. He almost looked nervous, or at the very least, concerned. When Lucius released her and ordered her to follow him, Ellie complied.She followed Lucius silently through the Fort. Legionaries called out out to him with congratulations and lewd suggestions. He largely ignored them, offering only occasional grunts in response. At her, they cast lustful expressions and obscene gestures - out of the praetor's view, of course. Ellie simply rolled her eyes in disgust. Fucking animals, all of them.The climb became steeper as they neared the top of the hill. Ellie felt winded but did her best to keep pace with Lucius' powerful strides. At the crest, they passed a tent more opulent than all the others. His royal fucking majesty's, no doubt. Around the back of the Caesar's tent, were three slightly smaller ones. Lucius walked to the tent in the middle and held the flap open with his right hand as he motioned for her to enter with his left.Upon entering, it took her eyes a moment to adjust from the bright midday sun to the darkness inside the canvas walls. The furnishings were modest, yet efficient. A small table and chairs on the left wall, a queen size bed in the back right corner, and a desk in front of the bed. There were a few armor stands lining the walls where there was room and a couple of footlockers. Ellie was getting used to her surroundings when the dire reality of her present situation struck her. She was alone with this man. A very large man. In his tent. Slave and master. Woman and legionary. Waves of nausea threatened to consume her and she began to shake violently. She jumped as he laid his hand on her shoulder, tears pricking at her eyes. Not yet. No, no, no, no, n-..."I'm sorry if I hurt you." Lucius said in a voice that was surprisingly gentle. Ellie turned to face him, her brows furrowed in confusion. "I understand that 'all of this'", he removed his hand from her shoulder and gestured in nowhere in particular, "is foreign to you, but such unacceptable behavior will get you killed here." She nodded slowly, still wary of his sudden change in demeanor. What game is he playing?"Thank you," she whispered, unsure of what else she should or could say. The corners of Lucius' mouth lifted slightly - not enough to really be called a smile, but it conveyed a least a small amount of pleasure in her response. His hand now rested on the back of his neck, slowly kneading the muscles there. The tension in the air was palpable, as if he was unsure of how to proceed. Ellie noticed his unsettled expression again and felt emboldened by his discomfort. After a long pause, she cleared her throat."Luc- Ma...maritus," she corrected herself casting an apologetic look at him, "what are your expectations? I mean, what is it that you... Christ. What do you want me to do?" Lucius narrowed his eyes at her, his mouth set in a thin line. He stared at her for a few moments."Have a seat," he replied brusquely as he brushed passed her and pulled out a chair from underneath the small table in front of them. His almost-boyish awkwardness was gone now, only a hardened warrior remained. Lucius walked around to the other side of the table and took a seat himself. Ellie followed slowly, but sat as commanded with her hands folded in her lap, waiting for him to speak."First things first. You need a name.""I have a name, m'lord," she interjected, clearly offended. "Ellie. Short for Eleanor. Eleanor Matthews.""You need a Roman name," Lucius explained coolly."But, L- Mar-," Ellie began."Silence.""B-but..""I said SILENCE!" Lucius roared, slamming his ballistic fist on the table. He stood quickly, sending his chair skittering across the dirt floor and reached across the table to grab the front of Ellie's dress, pulling her up so they were nose to nose. "You want to know my expectations? Hmm? I expect you to be obedient. I expect that you won't question what I say. If I give you an order, you follow it. I expect you to keep your foul tongue under control. And when I tell you to be silent, I expect you to shut. up." Lucius leaned back a little and studied her face. He released her dress, depositing her back in the chair. "Ignis." He stared at her and she stared back, unflinching. He cocked his head to the side and smirked. "Ignis," he repeated."M'lord?" Ellie's voice dripped with disdain."Your name. I will call you 'Ignis'." She chewed the inside of her lip with fury. "Do you want to know what it means?" Lucius asked."Not really," she replied as she thrust his chin in the air. Lucius chuckled lightly as he retrieved his chair and returned it to it's place at the table then sat. He placed his elbows on the table and tented his fingers. She observed as he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes, then opened them as he exhaled slowly and leaned forward so his lips pressed against his fingertips. He lifted his eyes to meet her's again - they were once again calm, warm."Let's try this again," he said. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Lucius didn't know how to proceed. This whole thing was a debacle. Damn it, Caesar. He didn't know how things had gone so pear shaped. Looking at her sitting across from him, he felt a pang of sympathy and guilt. Caesar may have commanded him to acquire a wife, but Lucius would determine how she was treated, not the Legion. Not this time. "My name is Lucius. I'm the commander of Caesar's Praetorian Guard. As I mentioned before, it is not fitting for you to address me by name, and I thank you for already making an effort to adhere to that." He watched as Ellie leaned back in her chair, folded her arms across her chest, and crossed her legs. She still wore an expression of complete anger and annoyance, but her body language showed she was willing to listen to him so he continued. "You will be called 'Ignis'," she shifted in her chair, glancing away from him for a moment. "Every new... aquisition is given a Roman name. There will be no exception," he spoke evenly. Ellie looked back to him. "As for your duties, you will keep my tent cleaned, wash and mend my clothing, and polish my boots and armor. Can you cook?" She nodded. "Please respond respectfully.""Yes, my lord.""Thank you. I would prefer to have you cook my meals here, except for when the mess makes radscorpion stew." Lucius' mouth watered at the thought. He continued, "delivering messages around camp, accompanying me to official dinners, those sorts of things." He paused thinking of Caesar's very explicit orders, "And also...um...," he cleared his throat nervously and he glanced at the bed on the other side of the tent."Fucking you." His gaze shot back to her. He could feel heat rising from his neck to his cheeks and hoped to Mars that his beard hid his embarrassment. He was shocked at her unabashed tone and her bluntness. "What? You think that's a surprise to me?" She scoffed. "Everyone knows how the Legion treats female slaves." There was no anger in her, she was simply stating the facts."I... I..." he fumbled for something to say. She cut him off, raising her hand."Please don't try to explain it, or excuse it, or even romanticize it," she looked at him pointedly. "Maritus, my lord, sir. Let's just not discuss it at all." She hung her head, "please."Lucius knew he shouldn't allow the interruption or her attitude, but he found that he wasn't very upset with her. She was right. He cleared his throat again, got to his feet, and walked around the table to Ellie. He extended his hand out to her."Come. I'll show you around the Fort so you'll know where to find everything. Then you can get cleaned up and change into suitable attire." he said as he eyed her torn dress and dirt caked, well, everything. Her eyes narrowed in skepticism as she took his hand and he helped her from her seat. "Now, when you accompany me anywhere, you must remember to walk about two paces behind me. Don't make eye contact with or speak to any legionaries unless I give you express permission. Do you understand?""Yes, my lord.""Do you have any questions?" Lucius asked."Yes, my lord," she paused, "you told me to call you 'Maritus'. What does that mean?" Lucius tried to conceal his discomfort."It's Latin for 'master'," he lied."I see," she looked at him and then to her feet."Was there something else you wanted to ask?""Yes," Ellie said but then stopped and slowly looked back up, meeting his eyes."Well?" He prodded."May I have my hand back, please?"Lucius hadn't noticed he was still holding her hand but at her mention of it, he dropped it like it had burned him and retracted his hand to his chest. She laughed lightly at his reaction. Her face lit up with a genuine smile that large, white teeth and the corners of her eyes crinkled. It was the briefest of moments but Lucius felt as though the air had been knocked from his lungs at the sight. Beautiful. He escorted Ellie out of the tent and noted she was careful to follow behind him. He had no idea where to take her first and the predatory eyes of his fellow legionaries had him wanting to return as soon as possible. Lucius knew that no man would try to speak to her, let alone touch her with him present, but their lecherous glances still caused him concern. Still, maybe giving her a tour of the camp himself was the smartest move. The men would see him with her and know she was off limits.Lucius showed Ellie the well and where the firewood was kept just in case. The general camp slaves would see to those chores, but it was still a good idea for her to know. He felt the curious stares of those around them at both him, the notorious bachelor officer and her, the new and very filthy young woman trailing after him with her head held high. He introduced her to Dale Barton and gave him his permission to allow Ellie to do business with him, if needed. Lucius pointed out the arena where some recruits were sparring. The entire time she silently followed him, eyes determinedly forward, with occasional glimpses to look at whatever he was directing her attention to. She would only nod or whisper, "Yes, my lord." Just a few more stops and then they would return to his, no their, residence. He admitted to himself that he was trying to prolong that as much as possible. They turned right through a row of tents. "Siri, I'd like to introduce you to my...marita, Ignis." Siri turned around at the mention of her name, putting aside whatever she was working on."Dominus," she nodded curtly, and the smiled broadly, "Salve, Domina Ignis." Ellie looked up."Hello.""Salve," Lucius leaned over and whispered in her ear."What?""Salve, means 'hello'," he clarified."Oh. Okay." She plastered her most convincing smile on her face, "Salve, Siri!" Siri chuckled at Ellie's obviously feigned enthusiasm. Lucius, however, was not amused and cast Ellie a look of admonishment before continuing."Siri is our camp healer," Lucius explained. "If you're ever injured, you will come see her." Siri again nodded."Or just to say 'hello' or 'salve', if your maritus permits you. I can help you with your Latin, if you'd like.""Thank you, I will keep that in mind." Ellie's smile was softer this time, but authentic."Siri..." Lucius began."Lucius! Sir!' a young legionary was running toward them."Decanus, report.""This is... sensitive information, sir." "Very well." Lucius looked to Siri and then Ellie, "I need to step away for a moment. You will stay here with Siri, understood?""Yes, my lord."Lucius and the decanus walked about ten yards from where the women were standing. Far enough to be out of earshot, yet close enough for Lucius to be able to keep tabs on his wife. As much as he tried to focus on what younger legionary was saying, Lucius' eyes kept wandering over to Ellie who was now deep in conversation with Siri and talking animatedly. Ellie obviously said something that had both women doubled over in laughter and gasping for breath. A sense of humor, too."Sir, what should should I tell Vulpes?" Lucius focused back on the decanus. To go fuck himself. "Tell Inculta not to worry about Novac. There is nothing there of consequence that requires our immediate attention.""Yes, sir," the decanus saluted before running off.Lucius began walking back to Ellie when he saw Siri hand her a stack of cloth squares but he didn't think much of it. As he neared her, he heard her sniffle and watched as she tried to wipe her tears away only to smear what was now mud across her cheek. His heart ached. He had hoped to have made a better first impression than he did - the twenty-eight years of Legion indoctrination and training overshadowing the small sliver of his tribal childhood. In that moment, he almost wished he didn't care so much. Maybe he was being foolish. What kind of legionary seeks the approval of some profligate? A weak one. At this revelation, his disposition became bitter. With that and his realization that it was nearing evening, he decided to go back to the tent now and delegate the remaining tasks to slaves."Siri," he began again gruffly, hoping for no further distractions, "have a tub and warm water sent up. As well as garments befitting Ignis' station and the evening meal." He intentionally left out the 'please' and 'thank you' that would have accompanied such a request but he was determined to convince himself that he was Legion, first and foremost."Of course, Dominus," replied Siri and sensing the change in Lucius' temperament, did not bid a vocal farewell to Ellie but simply tipped her head slightly before turning to carry out his orders."Let's go," he said to Ellie curtly as he began the short walk back to his dwelling and she followed without a word.As they crested the Hill once again, Lucius was shocked to see Caesar, himself, standing outside of the great pavilion surrounded by the other Praetorians. At first, he was worried that something had happened, but then he noted the pompous expression on Caesar's face and concluded that the dictator only had wanted to either get a view of his guard's new wife, reassert his dominance over the situation, or both. Lucius saluted as the passed, not slowing down and heard Caesar's laughter trailing after him. The sky was beginning to turn orange and pink when they reached their destination. Lucius pulled open the canvas door as he did before, but this time with much less chivalry."In." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Ellie wasn't sure what to do with herself. A very grumpy Lucius had taken a seat at his desk and was sorting through, what seemed to be, ledgers and acting like she wasn't there. She was mystified by his unpredictable mood swings and unsure if she should try anything to mend the rift between them or not give a fuck. Hey – bright side, I haven't been raped…yet. There was that. A miracle and an enigma in itself. Recalling her responsibilities, she began tidying up what little was out of place. At least he’s not a slob. After setting the cloth Siri had given her on a nearby footlocker, she tucked the chairs back underneath the table and picked an errant piece of, what seemed to be, clothing. Ellie held it out in front of her between pinched fingers, angling her head from side to side as she examined the strange length of leather. She didn’t hear Lucius approach.“Give me that,” Lucius snarled as he snatched it from her grasp and hid it behind his back, clearly embarrassed.“I’m sorry. Legion clothing is so different from the prewar stuff everyone else wears. Is it a scarf? A hat?” Lucius’ face went from pink to crimson.“It’s my subligaculum.” He groaned out. “Your wha-,”“Dominus? Domina?” called a voice from outside the tent.“Enter,” Lucius called out, clearly thankful for the interruption, as he walked over to his desk and shoved the mystery garment into a desk drawer. Seven slave women dressed in rags filed in: two carried a large metal basin, four hauled large buckets of steaming water, a one carried a large satchel. “Right there is fine,” he indicated a spot in the center of the tent where a rug lay. The women placed the tub down and poured in the water. Ellie’s initial excitement for a bath was tempered as she watched the slaves, feeling as though she was watching her own future.“Domina, would you like us to hang a partition?” the woman carrying the package asked.“Um…”“Yes,” answered Lucius. “She also will require help with bathing and dressing.”“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Ellie interjected hurriedly. Lucius raised his hand to silence her. “Oooookay.”The women set about hanging old sheets around the tub from the support beams of the tent. The cloth was so worn that it didn’t offer that much privacy, but Ellie was still grateful. The woman carrying the bag went to the table and started unpacking the contents. Soap, yards and yards of cloth in blue and white, leather sandals, and another one of those strange things that Lucius had gotten so flustered about.“Domina?” she spoke softly. “Everything is ready now.”Ellie just nodded her head and approached the draping fabric, steam curling at the top. She stepped through an opening and the woman followed directly behind, closing the sheets tightly behind them. Ellie heard the drag of a heavy wooden chair and the shuffling of papers as Lucius resumed his seat at the desk. The other slaves left without a sound after letting Lucius know that dinner would be brought up shortly to which he grunted in reply. Mr. Personality.“I thought it best to leave your new clothes out there so they don’t get wet, Domina. I can bring them in after you’re done bathing.”“Yes, that’s fine.” After a moment, Ellie quietly asked, “What’s your name?”“My name is Octavia, Domina,” she replied.“Nice to meet you, Octavia. My name is Ell… Ignis.” It was the first time that Ellie had referred to herself with her new name and it left her feeling hollow. Octavia nodded once and smiled knowingly, clearly empathetic to the heartache of being stripped of your own name.“Domina Ignis, let’s get you cleaned up. I’m sure your maritus is eager to see you without all that dirt.” Octavia reached for her dress, but Ellie stepped back.“I really would prefer to handle this myself. I don’t need help.” Octavia looked crestfallen and nervous as this was in direct violation to Lucius’ orders. “But maybe you could just keep me company?” Ellie suggested and saw Octavia’s eyes brighten. Ellie pointed a finger upwards and made a circle, indicating that the other woman should turn around, which she did.Ellie grabbed the frayed hem of her dress and pulled it over her head. She threw it to the ground and eyed it mournfully. It had been her favorite. She unhooked her bra and set it to the side, relishing the feeling of relief in her breasts. Ellie never understood why she had to wear the stupid thing being as small chested as she was. Lastly, she slid her panties down over her hips and stepped out of them when they hit the floor. She groaned inwardly as she noticed the small red stain that had bloomed on them. Ellie had expected it, but still. Of all days. God damn it. She dipped a toe into the water finding very hot, just short scalding. Perfect. She stepped in and sank down, sighing happily.“Octavia?”“Yes, Domina?”“You can turn around now.” Octavia complied, knelt down next to the basin, and sat back on her heels folding her hands neatly in her lap. Ellie sat in quiet contemplation for a couple of minutes, scooping up water with her hands and bringing it to her shoulders. “I was wondering if you could help me with some things,” she began. “I’m very confused with all the Latin.”“Of course, Domina. I will help it whatever way I can.” Ellie brought her finger to her lips. She wanted to keep this conversation as private as possible despite Lucius’ proximity.“Okay, well… you keep calling me ‘Domina’. I don’t know what that means,” Ellie whispered.“It means ‘mistress’.” Octavia answered, her voice hushed.“And ‘Dominus’?”“Master.”“I thought ‘maritus’ meant ‘master’.” Ellie chewed her lip, perplexed.“Who told you that?” Ellie’s head motioned over her shoulder towards where Lucius sat still working. Octavia raised her eyebrows and remained silent and she wrung her hands in her lap.“Octavia? What does it mean?” Octavia looked at Ellie blankly. No response. “Octavia!” The slave’s eyes closed tightly in fear as she replied.“Husband.”“Husband.” Ellie felt the word on her tongue without much thought and then as if her synapses had suddenly started firing again, her eyes grew wide. “Husband?!” Her restrained voice cracked. “But no. I mean… I can’t… He didn’t…”“My lady, you should not worry,” Octavia comforted. “Lucius is a kind man.”“He’s Legion,” Ellie countered. Octavia tipped her head in agreement.“Still, if there’s anyone in Caesar’s Legion you want to be the wife of, it’s him. He treated his last wife really well. We never saw her with bruises of broken bones.” “And that’s a sign of a good husband here? Lack of physical abuse evidence?” she sneered. Octavia simply shrugged. “What happened to her?”“She died a few years ago giving birth. Right before the first Battle of Hoover Dam.”“And the baby?”“Born sleeping,” Octavia whispered sadly. The continued even more quietly, “The loss devastated him. He hasn’t been with anyone since.” “No other wife, you mean.” Ellie pressed.“No women at all. I’ve never seen a woman taken to his tent or return to the barracks crying with his name on her lips. I mean, I guess it could happen, but word travels quickly around the Fort and I’ve never heard of him… taking liberties.” Interesting.Octavia handed her the soap and washcloth and Ellie began to lather herself up. The two women were silent as Ellie tried to process everything she had learned in the past few minutes. She scrubbed the layers of the Mojave from her body with prejudice, wishing she could wash away her fear.“I think I’m as clean as I can be,” Ellie said looking at the murky water.Octavia brought her a towel that was surprisingly plush. Then Ellie saw “UL” stitched in the corner: Ultra Luxe. She remembered being led through the Strip by Six, death and devastation all around her. Bodies stacked on burning pyres, the street running red with blood. Screams of men and women as they were raped and beaten to death, the laughter of the legionaries as they inflicted pain. She felt rage burning through her as he ran her fingertips over the embroidery and terrycloth – spoils of war, like her.“Let’s get you dressed.” Octavia’s voice brought her back to cognizance. “Siri mentioned that she had given you some rags. Where?” Ellie felt embarrassment flooding through her and then chastised herself. No reason to feel embarrassed. “On the footlocker next to the table.” Octavia stepped outside the sheets and over to the table, retrieving the clothing left there and then grabbed a few of the cloths from the footlocker. Ellie toweled off quickly noting the sunburn on her forearms that was now noticeable with the mantle of sweat and dust gone. She wrapped the towel around her just as Octavia called to her.“Come in, Octavia.” And she did, arms full of clothing and dragging a chair behind her. She laid the material over the chair.“So it doesn’t get dirty,” she explained. “Alright, first things first. Subligaculum.” She said handing her a piece of leather. Ellie looked at her puzzled, recognizing the word but still not understanding its function. Octavia smiled. “Underwear,” she clarified.“Oh. Oh!” Ellie giggled. No wonder Lucius had been so self-conscious. She took it gently from Octavia. “How do I…?”“These pieces will form a belt when tied. It’s easiest to tie it in the front,” Octavia explained. “Then the long piece here goes between your legs and then up through the belt and the excess just hangs over.”“No lacy panties available?”“Fresh out, my lady.” Octavia turned around to give Ellie some privacy. Meanwhile folding some cloth squares into thirds.“I think I’ve got it.” Both women turned around, Ellie covering her breasts with her arm. “Looks about right.” Octavia confirmed, then smirked, “I trust you know what to do with these.” Ellie rolled her eyes with exaggerated annoyance.“Unfortunately.” Both women chuckled. Octavia turned again to the pile of clothing as Ellie stuffed the cloth into the strange undergarment, surprised at how comfortable it actually was. “Should I put my bra back on?”“Nope. Strophium.” Octavia threw the wide band of white cloth over her shoulder without looking.“Do I just wrap it around?”“Pretty much.”Ellie wound the gauze-like material around herself, sentencing her breasts to confinement once again. Sorry ladies.“All set, Domina?” Ellie hummed the affirmative.“Tunica.” Octavia twisted and presented her with a dress that looked similar to the standard Legion uniform, except this was longer and cream colored. Ellie slipped it over her head. Octavia slipped a belt around Ellie’s waist.“Beltia?” Ellie asked sarcastically. Octavia snorted.“Balteus, actually.” Ellie rolled her eyes again. Octavia grabbed the long length of blue cloth. “Stolla,” she said as she wrapped the material around Ellie’s back, draping it over her shoulder and tucking it into the belt to create a dress of sorts. She handed Ellie the sandals, who looked them over carefully, admiring their craftsmanship.“Is this Brahmin hide?” she asked as she sat in the now empty chair, slipping them onto her feet and tying them at her ankles. They were simple footwear, but quite pretty the way the thin, dark leather bands crisscrossed over her pale skin.“Coyote, I think.” Octavia gave Ellie a once over, walking around her to ensure that everything would meet Lucius’ approval. “I think all that’s left to do it is your hair.”“There’s not too much that can be done with it.”“I have a few ideas,” Octavia boasted, patting Ellie on the shoulder as she walked behind the seated woman and produced a comb and some bobby pins from the folds of her tattered dress. Octavia’s calloused hands worked carefully, but quickly as she braided and pinned what little hair Ellie had. “I think that should do it. I brought a mirror. Hold on.” Octavia scooted back out to the table and returned in a flash. She handed Ellie a pair of simple gold hoop earrings and waited until she put them on before handing Ellie the mirror. Ellie considered her face, the tip of her nose and cheeks slightly sunburned but not as badly as her arms. So much for keep those wrinkles at bay. Then she stretched her arm out and held the mirror up examining her hair.“Badass.” Ellie caught the reflection of the woman’s proud smile. Octavia had managed to French braid her sparse locks into almost a mohawk with a puff in the front. Then she looked at the other woman, meeting her eyes fully. “Thank you, Octavia. For everything.”“You’re very welcome, Domina. I think you’re ready.”“I’m really not,” Ellie chuckled nervously, wringing her hands. “You are. You’re strong.” Octavia squeezed her hand in reassurance and then set about removing the hanging sheets. Ellie took a deep breath, stood up tall, and lifted her chin ready to face whatever.The last partition dropped and she saw Lucius sitting at his desk, still hard at work. He must have felt her gaze on him because he looked up from his work. His expression transformed from critical to stunned in a fraction of an instant.“Pulchra femina.” He murmured and then lowered his head as if he realized he’d given away a great secret. Ellie looked over at Octavia who was picking up after her bath.“He called you a beautiful lady.” Ellie felt her cheeks burn. An uncommon sensation as she rarely blushed.“Thank you, my lord.” Lucius nodded without looking at her, his eyes never leaving his work. If he wasn’t a hardened killer, he’d almost be endearing.Ellie stood in the center of the room feeling awkward and foolish. Then guilt as it occurred to her that Octavia was cleaning up after her. She tried to help.“No, no, Domina. Let me do that,” Octavia exclaimed as Ellie picked up the chair and brought it back to the table.“Don’t be silly. I think I can lift a chair.”“Ignis.” He spoke from across the room. “Come here.” Ellie begrudgingly complied and stood next to him. Lucius stared up at her. His eyes slowly wandered from her face downward as he took in her appearance. She felt as though she was being devoured and shifted her weight from one sandaled foot to the other. “You really do look lovely,” he whispered, his blue eyes meeting her hazel ones again as he tenderly took her hand in his. He rotated it gently so her palm was facing up before lightly pressing a kiss to the center maintaining eye contact the entire time. His lips were warm and soft and played in contrast to the coarseness of his beard. The sweetness of the gesture made her heart skip a beat. Legionary, girl. Le.gion.ary. Even with as wrong as she knew it was to enjoy any amount of affection from this man, she could not find it in herself to pull her hand away. It felt as though time stood still as his thumb caressed the pulse point on her wrist.“Dominus. The meal is here.” And with that interruption, the enchantment of the moment was broken and he released her as she withdrew simultaneously. Octavia was laying out the food when they reached the table.“That will be all.”“Of course, Dominus. Domina.” Octavia excused herself and left.Lucius pulled Ellie’s chair out again for her and waited for her to be settled until he took his seat. She picked up her fork and pushed chunks of food around on her plate. Her nervousness making her feel nauseated in spite of her ravenous hunger. He didn’t hesitate at all and started shoveling roasted bits of gecko into his mouth. Ellie watched him as he took too big of a bite and grasped for the bottle of purified water. Lucius put it to his lips and drank deeply. He was halfway through swallowing a sip when Ellie spoke up.“So. Tell me about yourself. Husband.” Lucius choked on his water and sputtered, water running down his beard and his tunic. Ha. He wiped his mouth on the back of his arm and cleared his throat before looking at Ellie who was smiling smugly.“Did Octavia tell you?”“Yes.” Ellie answered casually and then fear for the other woman rose in her chest. “I asked her for help with some Latin because I was confused. I just wanted to clarify. She didn’t mean any harm. I made her answer me.” Her panic was apparent.“Calm yourself, woman. She won’t be punished if that’s what you’re worried about.” Ellie exhaled a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding. He continued, “I didn’t tell you because I knew that’s not how you would see it. You see yourself as a slave, and me as your master.” Ellie couldn’t argue with that. “And honestly,” Lucius sighed, “it’s not much different. You will have better food and clothing. Less manual labor. And because you’re not part of the general population, you won’t be…used by any legionary that takes an interest in you.”“Just one,” Ellie said pointedly. Lucius glared at her.“I like to think I’ve been a great deal more considerate in this area than most, if not all, other men in this camp would have been,” he spat. “I have no interest in violating you.” He was clearly insulted. So the rumors are true. "And this?" Ellie said lightly touching her collar. "I noticed that the other women weren't wearing them.""It's a standard requirement that all new captures wear a collar. It will be be removed when it is determined that you can be trusted not to run away." She pursed her lips, but didn't say anything.He resumed eating, although being careful to take smaller bites Ellie noticed. She took a careful taste of the gecko and found it to be delicious. Her appetite returned and they ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Then Lucius spoke up, and Ellie looked at him.“There’s something I’ve been wondering all afternoon." He paused. "Earlier today, Decanus Six called you by your birth name. Do you know him?” His mouth was drawn into a thin line and his brow was furrowed.“I did. At least, I thought I did. As much as you can know a customer. Still, he’d come in frequently. We’d talk some. Sometimes I’d sneak him something for free.” Ellie shrugged one shoulder.“I guess you made quite the impression on him,” he scoffed.“Yeah, I suppose. I wasn’t trying to. I was just doing my job.”“I bet you were.” Lucius slammed his fork on the table. “No wonder he wanted to buy you.”“Maritus?” Ellie stared at him, puzzled.“Don’t call me that,” he warned through gritted teeth.“But you said…”“Now I’m saying not to.”“I don’t understand what you’re upset about. Are you upset that I knew Six?”“Yeah, Six. And how many others?”“Other what? Men? Well… lots. And women too. It was New Vegas. It was always busy.”“You disgust me.” Lucius pushed himself and his chair away from the table to distance himself from her.“Excuse me?” Ellie countered, her voice shrill.“You heard me. You’re a filthy, wretched, diseased, corrupt profligate whore and you disgust me.”“How dare you!” Ellie screeched as she jumped to her feet.“How dare I? HOW DARE I?” Lucius roared as he rose slowly, completely menacing at his full height. “You stand there awash in your hypocrisy. Judging me. Judging the Legion.” He punctuated each statement with a thrust of his chin. “At yet you feel it’s fine to casually spread your legs to any paying customer or in Six’s case, not even paying.” Ellie gawked at him mouth agape and sank back into her chair.“What? Wait. You think I – you think, you think I was a prostitute?” Ellie looked at her plate, her eyes darting back and forth on the table as she replayed the conversation in her mind. A smile crept onto one side of her lips then the other before she erupted in delirious laughter. She slammed her first repeatedly on the table to Lucius’ shock and howled. Tears ran down her cheeks. She clutched her side. “Ow ow ow ow ow!” He eyed her cautiously, returning himself and his chair to the table. After a couple of deep breaths she explained, “I work at the diner in Vault 21. I’m a waitress. I serve Cram and eggs, pour coffee. I mean, I did.” Even the admission that that life was over couldn’t break her smile. “You’ll hurt yourself jumping to conclusions like that,” she teased.“I. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I just… I’m sorry.”“It’s fine. Just a silly misunderstanding.” She picked up her fork again and pointed it at him playfully, “I should be furious at you for calling me a whore but the whole thing is just so damn funny.” “Again, I’m sorry.” She waved her hand, dismissing his apology.“I needed a good laugh. Thank you.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- They finished their meal quickly, the mood much lighter. Lucius felt confident that things would get easier with Ignis now that the ice had been broken. Or in their case, smashed. He considered her as she starting cleaning up. Still bearing a crooked, amused smile, she held herself with a dignity he had never seen in a woman before. He admired how she had reacted to his false assumption, laughing at it as a “silly misunderstanding”. In fact, this entire day she had impressed him with her resilience. She was certainly one of a kind. Not necessarily a desired attribute for women in the Legion, but Lucius found it engaging.And she’s not hard to look at. When he saw her sitting alone in the slave pen, he could distinguish that she was at least not unattractive. Then upon seeing her up close he thought she was pretty enough, even with a split lip and covered in dirt. But when he had looked up from his desk to see her standing before him draped in the Roman style attire, he had completely lost himself for a moment. He had been truthful when he said that he had no intention to violate her, but being completely honest with himself, he inwardly admitted he'd take her to bed in an instant if she was willing."Caesar comes!" a voice rang out, breaking his reverie. No, he wouldn't."Kneel," Lucius commanded her."What?" She wasn’t questioning his orders he noted, she just didn’t hear him."Now. On your knees." Ellie must have understood the direness of the situation from the tone in his voice because she obeyed instantly. No sooner than her knees had hit the dirt floor, the canvas flap opened to reveal Caesar, dressed in full regalia of woolen cloaks and fur, a golden laurel wreath crowning his head. He was escorted by four praetors, Vulpes Inculta, and Six. Lucius dropped to one knee and bowed his head."Ave, Caesar.""Rise, Lucius." Lucius rose and the two men kissed cheeks. "I've come to meet the missus." Caesar's eyes moved from Lucius to the woman kneeling at his feet, still holding a stack of dirty dishes."Rise now." Lucius instructed. Ellie stood without much grace as she tried to balance the dinnerware. Lucius pointed to the table and she placed them back down. Then she took her place next to her husband, her hands folded in front of her."What’s her name?" asked Caesar."Ignis,” Lucius replied trying hard to suppress a smile."Do you think that's wise, Lucius?" Caesar chuckled. “Not exactly something to be encouraged.”“It suits her.”“Precisely what I’m afraid of. A spark is one thing, but it must be kept under control.” He turned back to the woman at Lucius’ side, looking her over sternly. “I guess she’ll do.” Caesar concluded."Domina Ignis." He extended a hand."Nice to meet you, Caesar." She reached for his outstretched hand, apparently expecting a handshake. She let out a small squeal as the dictator pulled her against himself and pressed his lips on hers. Kissing in salutation was considered the societal norm, yet Lucius couldn't help but notice that Caesar's lips were parted a bit too much for it to be a chaste gesture. He felt a surge of possessiveness and jealousy as he observed the greeting last more than an appropriate amount of time. I haven’t even kissed her. Caesar broke the embrace and ensured she was on steady feet before releasing her.“Her decorum leaves something to be desired, but I'm sure you'll rectify that.""Of course, Cae-" Lucius began."Have you fucked her yet?" Caesar interrupted."My lord?""That's what I thought." Caesar sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "Fuck her.""Yes, Caesar, I will -" "Lucius, you misunderstand me. Fuck. Her." Caesar pulled a chair out from the table and sat, arranging his robes around himself before propping an ankle on the opposite knee. "Now." Lucius felt defeated. This is not what he wanted, but there was nothing he could do. He had orders. He turned to Ellie with regret etched in his features. She looked betrayed. And livid. His large hand fell to her hip and he gently, but firmly pushed her backwards towards the bed."My lord. Please." She whimpered, fingers splayed on his chest armor. Her eyes pleaded with him and she gasped as the back of her knees hit the bed.Lucius startled as her hand snaked around his head and she pulled him down to whisper in his ear with her cheek against his. This was a serious broach of protocol with everyone present. He nodded in understanding when she finished speaking."What did she say?" Caesar asked, clearly angry that there was any delay in carrying out his orders."She said it’s her menses, Caesar.""For fucks sake, Lucius, you’re a legionary. You’re going to let a little blood bother you?”Before Lucius could answer, Ignis yanked his head down once more. Infernal woman is going to get us crucified. Lucius’ jaw dropped at her words, not quite believing he had heard her correctly.“Gods be damned. What did she say now?” Caesar fumed.“She asked if it would be permissible to um…” Lucius swallowed thickly. “Pleasure me orally.” Even Caesar’s shock was apparent at the suggestion and he contemplated it for a few long moments as he tapped his chin with his forefinger.“I will allow it.”Lucius looked back at Ellie to see her calm and relaxed, the total antithesis of his own emotions. She met his eyes.“Maritus,” she spoke gently, “How would you prefer this?” Lucius was obviously bewildered so she clarified. “Would you like to lay down? Stand? Sit?” This was entirely too surreal.“Ummm,” his voice was strangled. “Sit,” he replied but didn’t move. Ellie slipped her small hand into his and led him over to his desk where she released him and pulled his chair around to the side of the desk in full view of everyone and stood behind it. He was frozen in place. He felt her fingertips graze his forearm and he once again looked at her. She smiled confidently at him and motioned to the seat with a nod of her head. Lucius sat, if for no other reason than he didn’t think his knees could support him.Ellie rounded the chair and knelt in front of him. He was vaguely aware of the murmurs between the other legionaries but he forced himself to direct his attention to the woman before him.“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to remove this,” she whispered, gesturing to the skirt of leather strips he wore.“Oh. Here.” Lucius leaned forward and reached behind himself to untie the pteruges. His lips brushed against her forehead. He pulled the armor from his hips and placed it on the desk next to him.“Thanks.” Ellie scooted forward, but his legs weren’t open enough to give her access. Lucius trembled as he felt her hands on his knees, applying gentle pressure. When he made no adjustment, she caressed up his muscular thighs going under his tunic slightly and trailed back down, her fingernails scratching lightly as they traced over his skin. He felt the press on his knees again and this time he acquiesced. She moved between his thighs, pulling up his tunic slowly, revealing him only to herself. Despite the overwhelming eroticism of the moment, he was completely flaccid. His humiliation burned through him but then she laid her cheek against his inner thigh and silently mouthed, “Relax.” She turned her head and pressed her lips to his leg and his eyes fluttered closed. Then she kissed again and again, slowly making her way to his manhood. Her hot breath ghosted over his foreskin as her knuckles delicately brushed his scrotum. His eyes flew open when she gingerly wrapped her lips around the head of his soft penis. Lucius looked down to see his wife looking back up at him provocatively. She’s the master right now and she knows it.Ellie started moving her head, taking a little more of him at a time. Lucius watched fixedly as she took the entirety of his cock into her mouth and felt the tip of her nose push into him when she reached the base. The blood surged. Finally. As she withdrew slowly, she pressed her tongue on the underside of his hardening length. She held him firmly with her hand and flicked her tongue over the sensitive tip. He gasped.“Moecha putida,” the unmistakable inflection of Vulpes rang out and the others laughed heartily. Lucius’ hands clenched into fists and he gritted his teeth as he glared at the unwanted audience.“Hey,” Ellie whispered to get his attention. His gaze returned to her. He watched as she stroked him slowly, clearly unfazed by the raucous jeering. “It’s okay,” she reassured him. “Ignore them. Focus on me.” She’s not real. This isn’t actually happening. Her warm mouth again welcomed him, now fully erect, and he knew he wasn’t dreaming. She gently pulled back his foreskin and swirled her tongue around the ridge of his glans. He bucked his hips as an irrepressible moan escaped from him and he felt her lips tighten as she smiled around him in response. Ellie hollowed her cheeks, sheathing him more completely. One hand continued to stroke him in concert with her mouth while her other cupped his scrotum and massaged carefully. She struggled to take all of him now that he was swollen and throbbing and her body jerked a little when she forced him into her throat. Her hand tightened around him and her pace increased. Her mouth and hands becoming a blur of blissful sensations. Lucius wished that this would go on forever but it had been so long since he’d been with a woman and felt himself nearing his peak. Surely she didn’t want him to finish in her mouth.“Ignis,” he gently pushed on her shoulder but she continued her ministrations with vigor. He pushed again. “Ignis, please. I’m close.” She shook her head, still full of him. If anything, it seemed she became more persistent and focused. Lucius felt his pleasure building, and knew his release was imminent. He tried one last time and his voice cracked as he whined her named. She looked at him determinedly, her lips swollen from the friction and twisted her head to the side and the dam broke. A deep guttural moan ripped through him as he emptied himself onto her tongue. Ellie swallowed to his astonishment and continued to work him gently until his cock stopped twitching. He came down from his high, his breathing heavy and eyes glossy. She broke contact with him with a wet pop and pulled his tunic back down as she sat back on her heels.“Of all the shit I’ve ever seen in my entire fucking life…” Caesar spoke, breaking Lucius’ trance. Wanton lust was carved in the dictator’s features as he glanced at Ellie. “God damn.”Lucius stood to the riotous hoots and applause of his men and straightened his clothing. Normally, he’d feel proud to have the admiration of those under his leadership, but this evening all he felt was shame and remorse. He offered his hand to Ellie and helped her to her feet.“Maybe that name suits her after all, Lucius,” Caesar said as he, too, rose from his seat, stretching and adjusting his robes to hide a very obvious erection, “but don’t think you’re off the hook. You still have a duty to perform.” Caesar started to leave, his escort in tow, and called over his shoulder, “I’ll be back in a week to make sure this marriage is properly consummated.” Lucius’ blood boiled. “She should be able to give you a few children still.” The he turned and addressed her, “How old are you woman? Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?”“I’m thirty-four, my lord,” she replied smiling brightly, seemingly flattered that he thought her much younger. Ellie watched as Caesar’s face contorted in fury and looked to her husband for an explanation only to see his apparent dread. Lucius pushed her behind his back to shield her from the impending tempest.“Thirty-four?” He echoed nonchalantly before erupting. “THIRTY-FUCKING-FOUR?!” Caesar was delirious as he rounded on Six. “What the fuck were you thinking? Did you know?”“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know! She didn’t tell me!” Six defended himself, casting the blame on her.“You never asked! You were too busy thinking with your dick!” Ellie shouted from behind Lucius’ back, standing up on her toes to glare at the decanus. Oh gods, Ignis. Be quiet. Six marched towards them and she tried to claw her way out from behind him to get at the former courier.“You better put a leash on that bitch of your’s, Lucius,” Six snarled. “I’d have tamed her already.”“Stand down, Decanus,” the guard warned, hand going for the knife at his waist. The younger man backed away, hands in front of him.“Leave it to you, Lucius.” Caesar pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation, too preoccupied with Ellie’s age to worry about her outburst. “Only you would choose a wife who’s old enough to be a fucking grandmother.” Caesar leered at him. “She had better be pregnant within six months. I’m not fucking around. Six. Months. Or she’s lashed to a cross and I’ll pick her replacement myself. You understand me?”“Yes, Caesar.”“And you, woman.” He pointed a finger at Ellie, who was standing at Lucius’ side again. “Don’t disappoint me anymore than you already have. You’re lucky I hold your husband in such esteem or I’d drag your useless ass out of here right now and feed you to Antony’s dogs.” She said nothing. Caesar stormed out of the tent, followed by the other men. Six was last and cast a furious glare at Ellie before the door closed. Lucius heard her start humming as she resumed her work like nothing had happened. His head was in turmoil and he remained where he was, unmoving.“Why?” he asked after several minutes.“Why what, my lord?” Ellie didn’t stop or look at him.“Why did you… do…” She sighed deeply. Her eyes met his, fully, honestly.“Because I knew that something was going to happen. It didn’t matter if I didn’t want it to. It didn’t matter if you didn’t want to do it. So…I took a shot.” She shrugged.“I can understand why you’d want to avoid…,” he raised an eyebrow because he couldn’t bring himself to say the words, “but why do you care about my feelings?”“I don’t know…” she threw a hand in the air. “I guess in that moment, I just realized that…” She was hesitant.“What?”“That we’re both slaves.” Lucius bristled at the very suggestion that he shared anything in common with the dissolute filth that inhabited the wasteland. Then he recalled what had just transpired. Was she wrong? He moved the chair back behind his desk without a word as she finished up.“I need to use the bathroom.” He stared at her blankly. “Restroom? Latrine? Where ever it is acceptable for me to pee and take care of…lady things?” “Oh, yes. Around the back.” She grabbed some more cloths from the footlocker. So that’s what they were for. He caught her arm as she turned to leave and she looked first at his hand on her elbow, then at his face. “Can I trust you?”“Yes, my lord. You can trust me.” He released her and she went.The events of the day and left Lucius exhausted. He walked over to the bed and removed his armor letting the pieces stay where the fell. Then he sat to remove his boots, depositing them carelessly on the heap of armor. He normally slept in the nude (one of the perks of being an officer with a private residence) but decided against it. For tonight. He settled into bed and pulled the blankets up. Then he turned down the blankets on her side. Was that more inviting? He wasn’t sure. Lucius reclined on his pillow, hands behind his head. The minutes ticked by and he grew nervous. Did she run? Then the flap opened and she walked in looking flustered as it fell closed behind her. Her eyes darted around and then stopped when she saw him. She looked relieved.“Did you miss me?” she asked coyly untucking and unwrapping her stolla as she approached the bed. She laid her gown on the footboard.“No.” It came out defensive.“Liar.” She called his bluff and untied her sandals before toeing them off.She laid on the bed, careful to leave as much distance between them as possible. The whole day had been awkward. Why should this be any different? They lay there quietly for a while, both staring at the canvas overhead. Then she broke the silence.“Maritus?”“Yeah?” Lucius was less than eloquent when he was tired.“What does it mean?”“Huh?”“My name. What does it mean?” He smiled to himself. Her curiosity had finally won out.“Fire.” She rolled away from him onto her side and snuggled into the mattress.“Badass.” Yes, wife, you are. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Ellie woke the next morning on her back. She stretched, her eyes still closed. There was a strange weight around her middle. She opened her eyes and lifted her head slightly to see a large, furry arm draped over her stomach.What the fuck? She turned her head to the left. Ah, yes. Legion. Fortification Hill. Lucius. Husband. Husband. Married according to the law of the land - the law of the land being Caesar. She hadn't been asked, she hadn't said yes. Yet, here she was the wife of a legionary. A very handsome legionary. With a very big c-"Mane bonum," Lucius mumbled when he opened his eyes and saw her staring at him."I'm guessing that means 'good morning'". He nodded against his pillow closing his eyes again. "Mane bonum, then." He smirked and tightened his arm around her waist, drawing her closer. He nuzzled her shoulder. Well that's... intimate. "I'm hungry. Are you hungry?" She wriggled out of his grasp and slid off the bed. He looked disappointed she noted. Geez...give a guy a blow job and all he wants to do is cuddle. "You said you'd like me to cook here for you, but I don't see a stove or campfire.""It is right outside, in front of the tent." He yawned as he sat up and stretched, grabbing for his chest piece on the floor."Guess my attention to detail was off yesterday,” she mused, putting on her sandals, “getting enslaved and all." It was meant in jest but she could tell she had wounded him. "Where can I get ingredients? Is there a Super Duper Mart around here?" she joked hoping it would lift his spirits. It didn't. He remained stoic as he dressed."Lu-maritus," she said quietly, "I'm sorry. That was... insensitive of me.""It's fine," Lucius muttered. It wasn't though. He got to his feet hastily."Hey," she approached him and pulled his armor out of his grip. Lucius narrowed his eyes at her and reached for it again. Ellie intercepted him and took his hands in hers. His expression remained hard. "I'm sorry. I really am. You've been... pretty decent to me. No, no, you’ve been very kind actually. I shouldn't take cheap shots at you." What the hell universe is this where the prisoner apologizes to the captor? Ellie stepped closer to him then stopped as she considered her next move. "Oh what the hell!" she exclaimed before she stood on her toes, leaned in, and planted a kiss on his cheek. Before she could retreat, his muscular arms enveloped her. She expected the assault to begin at any moment but it never came. He just held her. Minutes passed as Ellie hung awkwardly in his embrace."I forgive you," he whispered into Ellie’s hair. Lucius squeezed her tightly before releasing her. "Thank you." He kissed her forehead. "You're welcome, I guess. Yeah." These sweet gestures of his left her so inarticulate. "So... breakfast.""Go see Siri, she can help you.” Lucius laced up his boots. “Do you remember where to find her?"“Y-yes but,” her voice was shaky. "You're not coming with me?" She hated that she sounded so desperate."I must go check in with Caesar. I will return shortly and we can have breakfast. Then I want to bring you somewhere.” Lucius was leaving."Okay." No. It’s not."Ignis,” he said from the entrance."Yes, my lord?""What happened to your arm?""Oh, this?” Ellie chuckled, “it’s stupid really. When I went out last night, I tripped and scraped it on a tumbleweed." She hated lying to him."Have Siri look after it when you see her.""I will, maritus." He nodded in approval and then left her.Ellie quickly did her best to rewrap her stolla and fasten it the way Octavia had yesterday. She failed but didn’t care. She couldn’t stand to be in this tent alone another second. The sun was just above the horizon when she scurried out and down the hill to Siri without even tying her sandals. ******** "Salve, Siri!" Ellie called out."Domina Ignis! How nice to see you again! What can I do for you, my lady?""You can stop calling my 'my lady' for starters,” Ellie grinned at the beautiful dark-skinned woman."I will try," Siri laughed. Ellie was grateful to have someone to laugh with. "My husband said you could tell me where to get supplies. I need to make breakfast.""Of course, I'll bring you to the storehouses." She quickly retrieved some woven baskets."And..." Ellie hesitated, then extended her arm. "This.""Domina! What happened?" Siri exclaimed as she dropped the baskets to examine the long red scratches on Ellie’s arm."Tumbleweed.""Try again." Siri raised an eyebrow."I can't," Ellie breathed."Dominus Lucius did this?” Siri was genuinely shocked."Oh, gosh, no. He's… he’s not like that.""Who then?" Ellie was torn about naming her assailant. "Six,” she whispered."Did he...""No, no, no... not that. He just threatened me.”"You must tell your maritus,” Siri said firmly. "That will just create problems." Ellie shook her head.“So will silence.” Siri cleaned the abrasions and applied healing powder before wrapping it with a clean cloth bandage. The two women picked up the discarded baskets and Siri led the way to the camp storehouses. Along the way, young recruits called out to Ellie asking her to favor them with the same kindness she had shown Lucius. Octavia was right, word did travel quickly at the Fort. She didn’t respond with words or glances, per her husband’s command but instead straightened her spine, rolled back her shoulders, and carried herself like the fucking queen of the Mojave adding a deliberate sway to her hips with every step. The catcalling intensified. Eat your heart out, boys.To Ellie’s relief, requisitioning food wasn’t difficult at all. She simply chose what she needed and signed for it. There was a surprising selection and she was overwhelmed with ideas for recipes but decided to keep it simple: dried maize, two bark scorpion eggs, some brahmin milk, a few agave, and some fresh pears.She bid Siri farewell and headed back up to the top of the hill. When she arrived, Ellie discovered someone had brought firewood, a couple buckets of water, and some cast iron pans. She set to work right away, building a fire and preparing food."Salve, Ignis. How was... oh wow. That smells great." Lucius greeted her. He walked over to the fire and reached out to lift the lid. She smacked his hand away playfully. He wasn’t amused."It's almost done, my lord. Why don’t you get cleaned up? There’s water inside.”A flash of crimson caught her eye. She looked up to see Six standing a few tents away, staring at her menacingly and palming himself through his tunic. She was glad he was too far away to see her trembling. “Actually,” she called out and Lucius stopped, looking at her. "While this finishes cooking, would you follow me to the latrine? I've been holding it all morning.” "That not very wise, Ignis,” he chastised, “You do have permission to use the facilities whenever the need arises. You don't need me to come with you. You know where it is.""I just thought I heard a nightstalker last night when I was there.” Another lie. This was turning into a regular marriage."There are no nightstalkers at Fortification Hill.""Maybe it was radscorpion.""Ignis,” he sighed, “there's nothing to worry about. Go...do… what you need to do so we can eat. I'll wait." Ellie nodded, defeated, and ran to the back where the outhouses were. Her eyes were wide as she looked around expecting to be approached by Six again, but he never appeared. She returned to the tent, washed up, and grabbed the pan off the coals. Lucius was waiting patiently at the table for her. She served him and handed him his plate.“Be careful, it’s hot.” Lucius took a cautious bite.What is it?”“Cornbread.”“But it’s sweet. How did you…?”“I boiled down agave juice into syrup. It’s quite easy.”“You are one surprise after another, Ignis.” “It’s delicious. Thank you.” He reached across the table and gave her hand an affectionate pat.The two ate in companionable silence, finishing quickly. Lucius told Ellie to leave everything where it was, eager to get to their destination. With him present, the perverted taunts were absent as they walked through the camp but she was still aware of the stares and whispers that followed them. Ellie frowned when she recognized they were headed to the slave area. It wasn’t a place she wanted to revisit. Then she began to panic. Was he returning her? Has she caused too much trouble? Had he not really forgiven her for her hurtful, albeit true, offhanded comment this morning? Her panic turned into full-blown terror when she saw Six. Lucius was talking to him but Ellie was unable to hear anything above the sound of her heart pounding wildly in her chest. “Good morning, Domina,” Six purred close to her ear. She felt a finger trace slowly up her spine, then hands on her neck, then… relief, at least in the physical sense. Her collar had been removed. She touched the raw skin still not understanding what was happening.“It will be put back on when we return.” Lucius’ deep voice grounded her and she looked to him. “This is just for the day. You have not earned the privilege or my trust yet.” She nodded.“Yes, maritus.”Ellie’s pulse was still racing and she couldn’t think straight but somehow her feet found a way to follow Lucius. They exited the base through a different gate than the one she had come through yesterday and walked along a narrow winding path. The sandals she wore offered little traction on the dirt and pebbles so Ellie kept her eyes focused on the trail to ensure careful steps. The ground leveled off and she looked up, immediately raising her hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sunlight dancing on the water. Lake Mead.“This is my favorite place,” Lucius said, his voice lacking its usual sternness. He sounded at ease, almost happy and he sat down on the sand to remove his boots. Ellie followed suit and lowered herself next to him to take off her own shoes. “I come here sometimes to think.”“It’s beautiful,” she commented, observing the expanse of water set against the backdrop of the acrid desert. New Vegas’ skyline was visible in the distance and she felt sorrow rip through her heart like a dagger. The familiar faces of her friends and acquaintances flashed in her memory. Dead now, most likely. Lucky bastards. Death seemed easy and uncomplicated compared to slavery, or in her case, forced matrimonial bliss. Ellie turned her head to look at the man who held her proverbial chain, fully intent to loose her ire on him regardless of the consequences it wrought. She inhaled deeply and…“I’m glad you’re here with me,” Lucius said softly to her although he continued to look across the shimmering lake. His knees were drawn up and he rested his crossed arms on them. “I know you don’t feel the same way. I know you wish you were back there and the Legion didn’t exist. I know you didn’t ask for this and I… I’m sorry.” He looked at her now, his blue eyes were mournful and sincere. “I will take care of you though.” Her anger dissipated the moment he spoke. No, no. Stay angry.“I know.” The admission shocked her as much as it did him but it didn’t make it any less true. Somewhere deep inside of herself she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would. Against her better judgement, she tilted her head and leaned against his shoulder. His body went rigid at the contact by quickly relaxed. They stayed like that for a while, basking in the heat of the sun. Oh my God, I have Stockholm syndrome. Lucius interrupted her in the middle of her self-diagnosis.“How did you come to be in New Vegas? Did you always live there?”“No, I moved there after my husband died.”“You were married before?” She lifted her head of his shoulder and nodded.“My husband, Everett, owned a small, but profitable caravan company in over in the Lake Tahoe region. He was making a short run from Carson City to Silver Springs and Everett thought it was a good opportunity for our oldest son, who was thirteen at the time, to start learning the business. It was just supposed to be a day there and a day back.” Ellie wrapped her arms around herself and sniffled. “They were ambushed by raiders.” Lucius sat quietly listening, reserving all commentary for when she was done. She dabbed her nose with the corner of her stolla before continuing. “Unbeknownst to me, Everett had racked up some gambling debt in New Reno, the bastard. When the Wrights heard about his death, they came to collect. I had no choice but to sell the company to pay them. I didn’t have much left, certainly not enough to pay taxes to the NCR, so I packed up the two little ones and came to New Vegas figuring that at least it would be easy to find work. Well, I was right. But it wasn’t the kind of work I wanted to do, despite your previous notions. Sarah over at Vault 21 was sympathetic to my situation and offered me a room and customers’ leftovers in exchange for managing the café there. It wasn’t ideal, but it put a roof over my babies’ heads so I agreed. We were there about four, no… five months and they came down with a fever. Something one of the tourists had. There was a doctor with the Followers of the Apocalypse, Gannon, I think his name was. He gave me medicine for them even though I didn’t have the money for it. But they were so little, just nineteen months and three and…and they died.” Her tears were flowing now, silently but unrestrained. “That was two years ago.” She wiped her eyes and nose again. “I stayed in New Vegas because I had nowhere else to be.”Lucius didn’t know what to say. What could he say? That he know how she felt? That he had lost his family too? He draped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her close, kissing the shorn hair at her temple. She snuggled into his side, enjoying his warmth and strength and closeness not caring about who he represented or the implications of her growing complacency regarding their relationship.“Your husband, Everett? Did you love him?” It was a strange question but devoid of any jealously or anger in it.“No,” she said honestly. “He married me to get a loan from my daddy. I didn’t have much say in the matter.” History, apparently, really does repeat itself. “His first and only love was his whiskey. He would drink… a lot. Get angry and…” she stopped and simply shook her head. Then she chuckled after a long pause.“What’s so funny?” he asked with a furrowed brow.“I was just thinking that you’re already a better husband than he ever was.” Lucius laughed heartily and beamed at her. It was the first time he had fully smiled at her and had she not been sitting Ellie feared she would have fallen over. His teeth were perfectly straight and he had a small dimple on his left cheek. Despite the wrinkles next to his eyes being made more noticeable, he looked much younger.“Maybe there’s hope for us after all then.”“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe.” We’ve got six months to find out. When it was time to return to the reality of the Fort, he helped her up before dusting himself off. They walked hand-in-hand as the climbed up along the path. Ellie told herself it was because she was afraid to slip – it wasn’t entirely the truth. Lucius smiled at her again and gave her hand a small squeeze before releasing it as they came into view of the centurions at the gate. She fell in step behind him and he led her back to Six who refitted her with the explosive collar. Lucius cast her an apologetic look but she didn’t respond. Her heart ached at his duality. How could such a tender man be a part of Caesar’s Legion? It mystified her. He brought her back to their tent before returning to Caesar’s side and leaving her, once again. She started cleaning up the breakfast mess that had been left that morning when she heard the swish of canvas and a familiar, but unwelcome voice.“Honey, I’m home.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Six! What the fuck are you doing in here? Get out!""Tsk tsk tsk, Ellie.” Six wagged a finger, reprimanding her. “That's not how you address an officer of Caesar's Legion.” He mispronounced the dictator’s name using a soft “c” sound and cocked his head to the side as he sidled toward her with a purposeful languidness to put her on edge."I don't care what armor you have on. You're just a punk ass kid with a chip on his shoulder,” she retorted and stood her ground, turning her head to watch him as he slowly circled her. He was so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body and smell the lingering stench of contraband cigarettes.“You don't know shit,” he scoffed arrogantly as he sat down at the table in the chair Lucius usually occupied. She clenched her jaw and turned to face him with her arms crossed over her chest.“I know you sold out your own people,” she accused. “I know you got into bed with Caesar because it was the easiest option.” She enunciated the hard “c” and stood there with pursed lips awaiting his response. “Mmmm, that’s true,” he admitted after a few moments, nodding his head, “but Caesar’s not who I want to get in bed with.” His eyes darkened and his thin lips quirked into a carnal grin.“Get. Out.”“C'mon Ellie,” he pleaded with her. “You know we have a connection. Remember all those nights we sat in the booths in Vault 21 talking way into the night? I used to go back to my room and imagine you laying there with me.” For a second he looked almost like the innocent young man she had thought he was as he recollected their time together and then he continued. “And last night, after seeing what you did to your husband with that gorgeous mouth.” He bit his lip and his eyes rolled back. “I jerked off imagining your lips on me like that. Christ, Ellie. I came so hard.” Her stomach lurched. “First of all, you're fucking delusional.” She raised her fingers to help him keep track. “And secondly, my name is Ignis.” This time the name slid effortlessly off her tongue. She was Ignis. She was fire.“Oh!” Six jumped to his feet. “So now you're buying into to all this shit? Throwing your allegiance to a society who thinks you’re less than human?” He placed his hands over his face as he arched backwards laughing manically. He straightened again, watching as she chewed on her tongue. She felt ashamed and it was apparently obviously to Six, as was the reason. “Oh...that's not it. It's him, isn't it? You think he cares about you?” He laughed again then eyed her with mock pity. “He's been Legion longer than I've been alive and killed more people than my entire contubernium combined. You think I'm so bad? You know how someone becomes the commander of the Praetorian Guard? They challenge the current commander. A battle to the death. But you guy there, he didn't just kill the guy. He tore his fucking head off. With. His. Bare. Hands. Then there’s the Burned Man thing. Holy shit.”“You're lying.” “I'm not. Ask him.” Six shrugged. “If you're not afraid of him doing the same to you.” He walked to her quickly and grabbed her arms. “Let's get out of here, Ellie. I'll take that collar off you and we'll just leave. Head for the Pacific, take up farming in a little podunk town somewhere. I don't care how old you are. I think you're incredible.” I’m not a crone for fucks sake.“Six,” she wrenched her arms out of his grasp. “Get out or I'm going to scream.” Her refusal to his proposed escape unhinged him. His eyes narrowed at her. Any kindness, real or imaginary, was gone now.“Scream?” He repeated tauntingly. “There's at least a dozen women somewhere in this camp screaming right this second as they get fucked bloody. No one would even notice.” He stooped down to put his face directly in hers. “And you think Lucius will come for you?” Six laughed again, "He's on duty right now. He can't leave Caesar's side. I could drag you into Caesar's tent by the pussy and gut you in front of him and he couldn't move.“Just leave. Please, Six. Just go. I don't want any trouble. I just want you to leave me alone. Please.” He was starting to scare her and her composure was slipping.“Fine, you stupid cunt. I'll leave for now. But mark my words, Ellie, one day I'm gonna have you and you’ll be begging me to come instead of telling me go.” His words fell on her like the toxic rain from a radstorm and left her feeling like a tainted, filthy thing, soaking into her skin and rotting her from the inside out. She stared him down fiercely as he stormed out and then exhaled with a broken sob. She dragged her herself over to the bed and collapsed onto it in wilted heap. Ignis buried her face into the pillow. It smelled like leather and sweat and desert sunshine. It smelled like Lucius. All she wanted to do was to run into Caesar’s pavilion and throw herself in his arms and she hated herself for it. Something about that man siphoned away all of her hard hearted resolution. She hoped it was because subconsciously she thought him to be a good man and not because she thought him not to be excessively evil.She considered telling Lucius about Six’s threats. No, she could handle this. Six wasn't really going to do anything. He was just trying to scare her, get under her skin. There was no need to create an issue. Was Siri right though? Was silence just as bad?******"Ignis, are you alright?" Lucius gently rubbed her shoulder to wake her up. It was late in the afternoon and he had just finished his shift. “Huh?” She sat up sleepily and he saw her face was red and her eyes were puffy – she had been crying. “Oh sorry, I laid down for a moment and must have fallen asleep.” She looked up at him with a small smile.“Are you hurt? Are you sick?” he asked with genuine concern, checking her over. Her eyes lowered away from his.“I'm just adjusting to everything still. This is kind of a lot to process, ya know?” “I don’t believe you,” Lucius said simply, unapologetically.“Alright then.” She didn’t argue, she just gave up. He had only known her a day, but already knew this was uncharacteristic of her and it unsettled him.“Well then, obviously you're not going to be able to make dinner tonight,” he sighed. “I’ll let the slaves know to bring us something.”“I'm sorry, my lord. I'll do better.”******Lucius studied her as they ate. As a Praetorian, his duties included extracting information from enemy forces and although he didn’t want to think about her like that, at the same time, he could tell she was withholding something from him. Something had her flustered and afraid and she was trying too hard to convince him otherwise. She smiled at him more tonight, but clearly as a distraction and not because she was enjoying his company.He felt perplexed, upset, frustrated. He thought they had made at least a small amount a progress today as they sat by the lake. Lucius so desperately wanted to take her collar off, permanently. But he couldn’t do that until he trusted her and he couldn’t trust her if she wasn’t honest. The evening passed uneventfully. Lucius drafted contracts with local vendors for Caesar's approval and Ignis sat cross-legged on the bed mending one of his uniforms. She sang softly as she sewed but he couldn't make out the words. He had feared that having to share his quarters with someone would be an obstacle he'd struggle to overcome, but instead found her presence comforting and a welcome change from the empty, lonely silence he had been used to the past four years. Her peculiar behavior still troubled him though and he was determined to figure out what was causing it.******“Wh-what are you doing?!” Ignis shouted as she returned from outside to see Lucius pulling the blankets up to his bare chest.“Going to bed. It's late."“You're naked!” She said through gritted teeth as her cheeks turned red.“Yes, your point?” He was taking more delight in her discomfort than he knew he should.“You're naked.” Ignis reiterated.“How do profligates sleep in their own homes?” He knew the answer but it fun to bait her. “Umm... not naked!" she retorted. Then added, "usually.”“I was sweating all last night wearing clothes. I did it because I didn’t want to frighten you but I just can't do it again.”“Are you at least wearing your s-sub...thing?”“Subligaculum?” he supplied.“Yeah. That.”“No. We only wear that to train.”“Is that why last night when I... you weren’t wearing…” Now it was his turn to blush. He felt himself twitch at the memory of her on her knees in front of him. He nodded."Do you like wearing your tunica to bed?" he asked, changing the subject."No. It’s uncomfortable. It's hot and gets tangled around my legs," she pouted."Then take it off." Lucius raised an eyebrow at her playfully already expecting her answer and the eye roll that accompanied it."Nice try, buddy." He laughed at her sarcasm. She climbed into bed fully clothed, careful not to lift the sheets too high he noted. She remained firmly on her side but not hovering on the edge like she did last night. Then she turned onto her left side. She propped up her elbow and rested her chin in her hand."So," she began, "last night at dinner, I asked you about yourself but then you choked on water and we got off track." Lucius cast her an irked glance.“What do you want to know?” He turned on his right side so he was facing her.“I don't know. How about your age, for starters?” she asked casually.“Thirty-eight,” he answered. “What else?” Ignis hesitated and he could tell she wasn’t sure if she should continue.“Octavia had mentioned you were married before.” Lucius couldn’t stand when the slaves gossiped but it wasn’t a secret.“Yes, I was. Her name was Antonia, she was born a slave. I married her when I was twenty-nine and she was seventeen. She and my son died in birth. That was four years ago.” His reply was succinct. It was in the past and that’s just the way life was. There was no reason to become emotional. Then why did it feel like there was a boulder on his chest?“I’m sorry.” Ignis rested her hand on his forearm. “Did you love her?” It was an unexpected, but fair question since he had asked the same of her previous husband. Did he? He took a deep breath before answering.“She was a good wife, obedient and soft spoken. I think about her often and I miss her. I cared about her, but I don’t know that I loved her. Not like you mean.” Lucius found it impossible to meet her eyes. “Did you have anything else you wanted to ask?” Ignis nodded.“How did you come to be in the Legion?” “My tribe was conquered when I was about ten and I was chosen to train as a legionary.”“What happened to your family?” The pressure in his torso increased and he felt as though he would suffocate. Lucius shifted his body to alleviate the discomfort but it remained.“They resisted and were killed.”“I'm so sorry.” He looked at her then, her eyes were sympathetic and her mouth frowned. He didn’t want her pity.“Don't be,” he snarled. “They were weak, I was weak. The Legion made me a better than I ever would have been as a savage tribesman.”“I don't think you really believe that,” she replied with a gentle shake of her head. He narrowed his eyes at her and his nostrils flared. What the hell does she know?“Good night, Ignis,” he said tersely as he rolled away from her and onto his other side.Lucius fell asleep quickly and dreamt a familiar dream. A dream he had had many times over the past twenty-eight years: It was a typically hot Arizona morning and the sun beat down upon the small valley. The sound of children laughing rang through the air as they chased after a ball. Women chatted as they washed clothes on the banks of a small, crystal clear stream. Men swapped stories while they sat sharpening blades for the upcoming hunt. The breeze carried the faint tang of sage. The dogs bark as strangers approach. Strangers dressed in red. They carry a banner bearing a golden bull. Then there is screaming, crying. He sees his mother being dragged behind the lodge by a man with a feathered helmet. His father runs after her. He’s intercepted by another man in red. There’s the flash of a machete and his father falls. He looks down. His wrists are being bound with a leather strap. His face is wet and his vision is blurry. He’s being led away with the other boys. Where’s his mother? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Lucius had woken up several times in the middle of the night, plagued by unpleasant dreams and memories. He looked over at his wife who was sleeping soundly on the other side of the bed. He scowled at her. Presumptuous bitch. She didn't know anything. She didn't understand how Caesar was rebuilding civilization, taking this post-apocalyptic hell in his hands like crude clay and sculpting it into something beautiful and functional. She couldn't see the bigger picture, couldn’t see the legacy unfolding. His parents had been good, but simple people. He remembered lullabies and being carried upon broad shoulders. Tousled hair and bedtime kisses. Weakness. All of it. He supposed their deaths had been tragic but their days in the wasteland had been numbered anyway - most likely. He redressed but didn’t don his armor and scribbled a quick note to Ignis before leaving the tent. It was a couple hours before sunrise and the Fort was mostly quiet as he passed through on the way to the back gate. He needed to think, needed to forget her probing questions. His feet carried him to Lake Mead. The full moon illuminated the still water. He had been here a hundred times since the Legion had come to Mojave and it always brought him comfort. Not tonight. Tonight it felt empty.He caught himself turning to say something to Ignis, expecting her to be there. But she was back in their bed, in their tent fast asleep. She was the reason why he was here, in the middle of the night he thought bitterly. Her arrogance and... and... and...compassion. She had felt for him, hurt for him and his losses. The way her eyes had searched his. She was ruining him.And gods how he longed to touch her. Not the affectionate squeezes and taps they had exchanged but really touch her. Caress every inch of her soft, supple body that he had caught a forbidden glimpse of as she had undressed for her bath. For the last day and a half he'd tortured himself by replaying the images of her silhouetted form as she had stripped: her small, gently sloping breasts, slightly rounded belly, and lush, full thighs. Like Venus incarnate. He could have had her half a dozen times by now, any other legionary would have. But he wanted all of her, her willingness, her cries of pleasure, her fire. He wanted her to want him and give herself freely.The thought of her underneath him, wet, eager, and writhing as he slowly worshiped her with his hands and mouth sent a jolt of electricity through him and made him hard. He stripped off his tunic and waded into the cool water. He dove in letting the buoyancy of the water ease his tension. As he surfaced, he imagined her walking into the water to him. The moonlight dancing off her pale skin, nipples hard as the chill swept thought her. Instinctively, he wrapped his hand around himself and gave an experimental pump. His body ached for release, but it felt so wrong to touch himself like this thinking of her. He refused to give into these primal urges. He swam into deeper water focusing on the familiar motion of his limbs working against the resistance of the water and allowing his mind, for once, be blank. Then he returned towards the shore, letting his legs carrying him when he could reach the bottom. He dried off with his tunic and slipped it on, regretting that he didn’t have the foresight to bring a towel along. Lucius laced up his boots and pulled on his armor. An orange glow began to creep over the horizon as he reached the gate and saluted the guards there. Only a few more days until Caesar’s mandate to consummate their marriage would surely destroy any fantasy he had of his wife’s enthusiastic consent. But one way or another, at the end of this week he would have Ignis completely - although he feared that would include her tears, her heartache, and her hatred.He hurried to Caesar’s tent to relieve the praetor there of his shift and after a quick inspection of the area, took his place by his master’s throne. This was going to be a long day. ****** Dawn broke and Ignis found the space next to her was empty. And cold."Maritus?" There was no response. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. She squinted in the dim light searching for Lucius. He wasn't there.She remembered back to the previous night, their conversation, and his reaction. Way to fuck it up, stupid. Why was he so pissed anyways? Because she had called bullshit when he talked about his family's death so callously? She refused to believe he was that apathetic.Ignis began to worry as she thought about her discussion with Six yesterday. What if he was right about Lucius? Was he really so heartless? Six was crazy as fuck, but that didn't mean he was wrong. She realized she was disappointed by his absence this morning. She liked his company, if it could be called that. He wasn't a great conversationalist by any means but his strong, quiet presence comforted her. Still, she knew was grasping at straws. Husband or not, he was nearly a complete stranger. Who I sucked off... Ignis groaned inwardly at the recollection with an strange combination of empowerment and humiliation. Caesar had said a week. Was that literal? Was it a week from yesterday or two days ago? Her stomach was in knots. It didn’t matter if he was stranger or her husband, in a few days they'd once again be in front of an audience and there would be no escaping the inevitable this time.Ignis would have be lying if she said she didn't want to devour the man. Even though she knew it was wrong - he was the enemy, a high ranking legionary, and a killer - she wanted him, but on her terms. Even if she couldn’t admit that truth to anyone else, at least she could be honest with herself. She thought he was delicious with the graying hair at his temples and his rarely seen, but dashing smile. And his defined pecs covered in dark curling hair that she had caught a peek of last night as he got into bed. And those large rough hands and thick fingers. She felt herself start to ache at the thought of his weight pinning her down as he rocked into her. You're a slut, girl. A bona fide, straight up slut. Ignis picked her stolla up off the corner of the bed and a slip of torn paper fell to the floor. She bent down to retrieve it. "Will return tonight" was written in perfect script. She felt a pang of sadness at the thought of not seeing him all day. She mentally formulated a list of chores and was thankful that she had plenty to occupy herself with until this evening.Last night she had disappointed Lucius by falling asleep and not making dinner. Then her questions and uncensored comments had caused further friction. And although she adamantly refused to apologize as she did absolutely nothing wrong, she still felt it was wise to try to make amends. Ignis talked with the slave woman in charge of the kitchen, got the recipe she needed, and then headed for the commissary. Her plans to get back into her husband’s good graces had her smiling and feeling uplifted as she walked through the Fort mindful but not really bothered by the whistles heralding her presence. Then she saw Six standing directly in her path with a shit eating grin plastered on his face. His hand rested on the machete in his belt menacingly. "Why hello, Domina Ignis. What brings you to this neck of the woods?" Should she respond? She had been directly addressed, but Lucius wasn't present. Damn all these rules. She remained silent and looked straight ahead as she walked by him. "Uppity bitch. You won't be that quiet when I'm... Ave, sir!" A passing centurion had silenced his tirade. Ignis continued on her way, silently grateful for the unintentional yet well-timed interruption.Six had vanished she noticed as she left the storehouse, and she breathed a bit easier although irritated with herself that she let him get her so riled up. He's not a real threat. Relax. She needed to arrange for hot water to be brought up for laundry and as she caught a whiff of herself, a bath as well she noted. No wonder Lucius hasn't tried anything... Ignis was quickly becoming familiar with the layout of the base and made her way to Siri's without much thought, keeping her head down and swinging her basket as she strolled. Another familiar voice greeted her."Domina!" Octavia's voice rang out."He - salve!" Ignis corrected automatically. She'd get the hang of this whole Latin thing eventually she mused to herself."How are you settling in?" Octavia's smile was bright and contagious and Ignis felt her cheeks lifting at the sight of the young woman."Okay, I guess. Some ups and downs." Ignis shrugged. "How are you today?""Just fine, Domina, thank you." Her eyes said differently though. "What do you need today?""Water, lots of it. I have washing that needs to be done and well, frankly, I stink." Ignis wrinkled her nose and Octavia burst out laughing. "I need more clothing too, if possible.""Of course, mistress. We were just finishing up some new things for you, actually. We can send everything up shortly.""Sounds great, thank you." Ignis inconspicuously took an apple from her basket and placed it in Octavia's hand and smiled."My lady, I can't accept th-" she began."Please? You've been so kind to me, I just want to show my appreciation." Ignis gently closed Octavia's fingers around the fruit."Thank you, my lady." Ignis rubbed the other woman's arm affectionately and returned to the tent she shared with Lucius. After her chores were done, the slaves brought fresh hot water for her bath. Ignis sank in with a heavy sigh. She thought about her good-for-nothing dead gambler of a husband and about her babies gone too soon from this world. She thought about her new husband. She hadn't lied when she told Lucius he was a better husband than Everett. Everett hadn't been patient, hadn't asked, hadn't stopped when she begged him to. Hadn’t ever really been nice to her except when she'd cook his favorite meals. Her mama always told her the easiest way to a man's heart is through his stomach. She was hoping that still would hold true.After a lengthy soak in the tub, Ellie stood and reached for her towel. Lucius walked in.“What the fuck!” she exclaimed as she scrambled to cover herself.“What are you doing?” His voice was strained and he gritted his teeth.“Isn’t it obvious?" Shs gestured to the tub she was still standing in. "I took a bath.”“And you didn’t think to hang up a sheet or such for privacy?”“I wasn’t expecting anyone. You said you’d be gone until tonight.”"I forgot something.”“It’s fine now, you can look," she said as she secured the towel around her chest. He didn't and instead went directly to desk and began rifling through papers."You really should hang a curtain when you bathe. Anyone could walk in.” Ignis knew he was right. Six had so brazenly strolled in yesterday and she hadn’t even considered that. What if he had come back today and found her in this state? She shuddered at the thought. She approached Lucius, her hair dripping. “I missed you this morning. I mean, it was strange waking up alone.” “I went for a walk," he explained.“Are you still upset with me?” she asked.“Yes. No. I don't know.” he replied gruffly as he turned to go back to his post after finding what he needed. “I’ll be back later tonight.” He shot her a stern look. “And Ignis, watch your language.”Ignis waited until he left then lifted her middle finger and waved it wildly in his general direction.******Lucius walked back to Caesar's tent willing his prominent erection to go down. His imagination could never have conjured a picture that would compare to what Ignis actually looked like. The thought of her standing there naked and exposed with glistening droplets clinging to her pale skin made him hard again. He had work to focus on he was determined to do just that as he marched back to his post, fists clenched tightly by his sides. The afternoon passed uneventfully as most had after the near complete eradication of the NCR at Hoover Dam. No attempts had been made on Caesar’s life since the Legion's overwhelming victory although the Praetorian Guard remained vigilant as ever. Unfortunately, as steadfast as they were, they could not protect him from the strange malady that was taking its toll on their leader. Today found Caesar, once again, sprawled across his large bed with a crippling headache. Lucius watched over him from the corner of the room with a heavy heart. He feared that death would soon claim his beloved ruler and worried about the future of the Legion. Evening approached and another Praetorian came to replace Lucius. He was tired, hungry, and frustrated. Ignis had gotten under his skin and he couldn't decide if he was looking forward to spending the evening with her or dreading it. She wasn't at all like Antonia had been. Antonia had been quiet, followed orders without hesitation, and never spoken out of turn. She knew her place as a woman in the Legion. His marriage to her had been uncomplicated. And boring. As he exited Caesar's tent, he smelled a familiar aroma and his stomach growled - radscorpion stew. He loved when the kitchen made it. The scent grew stronger as he made his way back to his quarters and realized the mess wasn't cooking his favorite meal, Ignis was. She walked out of their tent and noticed him approaching. "Salve, maritus," she called out."Salve, marita." Lucius stopped just it front of her. He gazed down and was somewhat astonished to see how much he towered over his wife. Ignis' personality was so large and overwhelming, it was easy to forget she was quite petite. He brushed his knuckles over her cheek lightly and her full lips curved up in response. "You made radscorpion stew.""Well, you mentioned it the other day and I figured you must like it so I..." Words failed her when he bent down and kissed the place where his fingers had just caressed. He lingered there, lips pressed against her soft skin, neither of them moving. Her breathing became ragged and he felt her body lean into him ever so slightly. Lucius' heart pounded as his inner morality battled against everything the Legion had taught him. "Ignis," his voice was strangled and his hands fell to her hips pulling her closer. She hummed and let more of her weight rest into him and it seemed like time stood still. "Shit!" she exclaimed, pulling out of his grasp. Lucius turned to see the stew boiling over and Ignis running to pull it off the fire. He had never hated any food so much in his life.Dinner was awkward and tense, though the meal itself was delicious. Lucius' frustration was renewed, but he did his best to remain cordial and attempted to make small talk about the food. It was becoming increasingly difficult to be near Ignis without seeing her between his legs again, mouth full of him, glancing up at him with wide hazel eyes. He inhaled sharply at the mental image and choked on his mouthful of stew. He sprang to his feet and wiped his mouth as he caught his breath."I'm finished." He slammed his napkin down and she jumped. Lucius headed towards the bed, stripping of his armor and clothes as he walked and leaving it in a trail across the room. When he was naked, he climbed into bed without another word to Ignis who still sat at the table in stunned silence. He lay facing away from her with his eyes closed but sleep eluded him. He listened as Ignis started to clean up, her appetite apparently gone. He heard the clank of ceramic muffled by water as she washed the dishes and the faint whisper of cloth as she picked up his discarded clothing and gear. He heard the scrape of chair legs on the floor when she returned them to their place under the table and the soft thud of books when the straightened up his desk. He heard her shuffled steps approach and the creak of the bed when she lay next to him. Then he heard a sniffle and a mumble."Bonam Noctem." Lucius felt as though he'd been punched in the chest with a ballistic fist. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Lucius was absent again this morning Ignis noted in the stillness of the tent. She was a fool if she believed he did or could care for her and she realized any disappointment or confusion she was feeling was a result of her own outrageous expectations of a nurturing relationship. She carefully touched the explosive collar around her neck as a tangible reminder to the truth of her situation. She was property, his property. It was only a matter of time before he showed his true colors - Legion red and gold.She rolled out of bed ungracefully and dressed. No note floated down today and she felt a twinge of sadness rise in her chest but before she could dwell on thoughts or emotions related to her husband, she pushed them down.Her daily routine took her through the camp as usual, but today something quite interesting caught her eye over by the weather monitoring station. Lucius was leading a group of recruits in a training exercise dressed in nothing but boots and that mysterious, and skimpy leather underwear. She watched as he moved with fluidity and strength, the younger legionaries struggling to keep up with his rigorous pace. Ignis looked on as the recruits watched the Praetorians Commander with wide eyes and grins as he demonstrated a new technique. Defined muscles rippled and shifted under tanned skin. The man was a goddamned masterpiece.He turned then to catch his breath and give the trainees an opportunity to practice and caught her staring at him. She waved shyly and spun around to go on her way."Ignis!" he called out and she twisted back around to see him jogging over to her. She used every ounce of self-control to keep her eyes on his face when he came to a stop an arm's breadth away."My lord," she greeted curtly, hoping it sounded as devoid of emotion as she had planned. "Where are you off to this morning, marita?" His tone was casual and friendly, seemingly unfazed that he was standing in the middle of Fortification Hill in such a scandalous state."Just getting food for the day. Hoping they have something to work with,” she motioned to the storehouse building in the distance."I have a feeling you could make anything taste good. I forgot to tell you last night that the stew was wonderful. The best I've ever eaten." "Oh...um... thank you." The way he had gotten up so abruptly from the table yesterday evening had her wondering if had been a complete disaster. She was enjoying his pleasantness but didn’t allow herself to get swept up in it, knowing full well he’d be cranky and sullen soon enough. This emotional roller coaster of his was exhausting and she needed to disembark if she was going to retain any semblance of sanity in this hellhole."I was thinking that maybe you could check with Dale Barton and see if he had any, what's the word profligates use for nightclothes?""Pajamas?" she supplied. "That's it. You could see if he has any pajamas for sale. I noticed you're still sleeping in your tunica and you said it was uncomfortable. Just get what you need and tell him I'll be by later to settle the balance.""Okay. Thank you. That’s very generous of you, my lord." She was genuinely shocked at his thoughtfulness. "Is there anything else?"He paused for a moment with lips drawn tight as he thought. "Actually, yes. Have water brought for a bath in about an hour.""Of course." He nodded and one side of his mouth lifted. Ignis had to peel her gaze from him as he trotted back to the training yard and forced herself to concentrate. Food. Pajamas. Bath. She repeated the words in her head like a mantra.With the first item on her mental list checked off, she followed the road to where the trader stood, ready to do business."Good morning, Mr. Barton." she greeted cheerfully."Ma'am," the merchant replied with a tip of his cowboy hat. "What can I do for ya?""I was wondering if you had any pajamas for sale.""Hmmm...ain't somethin' I usually carry but lemme see." He sorted through the large packs that were affixed to his Brahmin as Ignis waited patiently rocking back and forth on her feet. "Well looky here. I did have some." He held the night clothes, if they could be called that, out to her."Is that all you have?" Ignis questioned with a raised brow."'Fraid so, ma'am. Do you wan' it?""I guess," she shrugged. “Lucius will be by later to pay you,” she said as she folded her purchase and placed it in her basket. Dale nodded in acceptance of the arrangement and Ignis turned to trek back up the hill."Reckon your mister's gonna love it," he chuckled. She hastened her steps so he wouldn’t see the blush that crept across her cheeks.******Lucius returned their quarters to be greeted by the smell of eggs and big horner steak. The table was set and Ignis was pouring buckets of steaming water into the steel tub. He smiled at his little slice of post-apocalyptic domestic bliss and for a moment he could imagine they were back in the valley where he grew up, living lives under their own authority.“Eat.” Ignis’ abrupt command snapped him out of his daydream. “The water’s too hot to bathe yet anyway.”“Yes, ma’am.” Lucius snickered at how odd those two words sounded joined together although they had rolled so effortlessly from his tongue. His wife cast him a suspicious look but said nothing.After he was done eating, he removed what little clothing he had on and lowered himself into the bath. Ignis made a big display of keeping her back to him and he smirked to himself. He was pretty sure she had been washing the same plate for the past ten minutes in an effort to keep busy when he finally spoke.“Will you wash my back for me, please?” He watched as her postured stiffened and she placed down the dish.“S-sure.” He heard her inhale and exhale deeply. She knelt behind him and stuck out her arm. When he did nothing, she open and closed her fist rapidly. “Cloth. Please.” Lucius handed her the wash rag and a bar of soap and she began to work up a lather. “I was beginning to wonder if you ever bathed, to be honest.”Lucius laughed heartily. “Why? Do I smell that offensive?” He cast a mischievous look over his shoulder at her and she responded by sticking out her tongue at him.“No, that’s not what I meant," she huffed. "I just haven’t seen you take a bath since I’ve gotten here and you don’t stink so I just found it curious. That’s all.”“I usually shower down by the barracks." He explained, " It’s faster and more efficient. Today, though, I needed to soak. I’m getting too old for leading physical training.” He groaned at the release of tension in his aching muscles as Igbis scrubbed.“I don’t know,” she mused as she cocked her head to one side. “It seemed like you were giving those boys quite the work out. They could barely keep up with you.” Lucius’ brows were raised as he swiveled around. “How long were you watching?” He was amused by the way she bit her lip, knowing she'd been caught gawking.“Just a few minutes,” she said shaking her head casually. “Actually, that reminds me.” Lucius noted her desperation to change the subject. “Can you teach me how to fight? That thing you were doing with the recruits?”“The Legion Assault?”“Yeah, I guess if that's what you call it. The running and jumping thing.” She handed the washcloth and soap back to him.“No.” His tone was gentle, but final.Ignis got to her feet and crossed her arms. "Why not?" she demanded.He looked up at her while continuing to wash himself. “Women are not allowed to fight in the Legion.”“I'm not asking to fight in the Legion," she articulated, throwing her hands up in frustration. "I'm just asking for you to teach me how to defend myself.”“What need would you have to? I told you I would take care of you.” He reassured her.“What need do I have? Seriously?” Ignis look at him pointedly. “I live at a military camp full of horny, rapey men. And you're not always around. What if... I don't know... someone tries something?”“No legionary would be foolish enough to do anything to anything to my wife,” he scoffed. Would they? “Ignis, did something happen? Is there something you’re not telling me?” Lucius' suspicions were raised once again.“No. No, it’s just…they look at me, the legionaries. When I go on errands. They look at me.” “That is because you are a very beautiful woman.” Ignis waved her hand dismissing his compliment before dropping to her knees again next to the basin and clasping the rim. “Please, my lord. Please teach me.”“Even if I could, I've watched you move and you simply don't have what it takes.”“You've been watching how I move?” An impish grin teased her full lips. Lucius felt his cheeks burn slightly and noted the smugness on her face when she made him uncomfortable. “Well, I think I’m done with my bath,” he announced, rising quickly before Ignis could react. She shrieked in surprise and threw a towel over her shoulder at him before hurrying out of the tent. Lucius laughed again, recognizing that it was fast becoming a habit with Ignis around.Lucius dressed and reported to Caesar’s tent where Decanus Six awaited his arrival. He produced a slip of paper from the table and handed it to the courier. “Here is the list for New Vegas. This mission should not take you very long. Three, four days, at most. Get back here quickly. This is an urgent matter.”“Sure, Lucius, no problem.” Lucius was not fond of the young man’s familiar approach in addressing his ranking officers. “Say, how’s that pretty little wife of your’s doin’?”“She’s fine,” he replied, with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.“Mmm… she sure is.” Six’s mouth curved into a wry smile and the praetor felt his nails dig into his palms.“Dismissed, Decanus.” Lucius hissed, unable to keep the icy tone from his voice.“Vale,” he said haughtily as he left without a salute.Lucius was unsettled by Six’s apparent and inappropriate interest in Ignis. He knew the other men in the camp looked at her, he was certain they even had carnal thoughts about her, but since they had been raised as legionaries for the better part of their lives, they knew that an officer’s wife was not to be touched. Six might now wear Legion armor, but he was a degenerate wastelander at heart and thus, lacked discipline in a multitude of areas. If he thought that everyone was unaware of his smoking, drinking, and occasional chem use, he was sorely mistaken. Caesar was simply a little more lenient with him as a reward for his assistance in securing Hoover Dam. However, Lucius would show no leniency where his wife was concern. He sighed, trying to alleviate the sinking feeling he had in his stomach. Maybe Ignis was right and showing her a few unarmed maneuvers would be prudent. He resolved to at least consider it. ******Ignis was cleaning up after Lucius’ bath when she heard the rustle of the tent flap. “Come to try to embarrass me again, hm?”“Of all the things I want to do to you, Ellie, embarrassment is not one of them.” She pointed to the entrance behind him. “God damn it, Six! Get out. Get out now!”“Settle down, missy. I just wanted to let you know I have to make a short trip to the Strip, but don’t you worry, I’ll be thinking about you the whole time.”Ignis turned back to her chores. “Fine. Great. Now leave.”“You gonna miss me?”“Not in the slightest," she retorted, shaking her head. "You’re crazy, Six. Certifiably crazy. And I want you to leave me alone. Do you know what Lucius would do if he found you here?”“Oh boy. I can imagine, but it’s not what you think.” The courier chuckled wickedly. She squinted her eyes at him with arrogance. “What are you talking about?”Her eyes followed Six as he stepped over to Lucius' desk then and leaned against it before speaking, “You’re a married woman in the Legion. If your husband finds out that another man has been alone with you, you’ll probably be executed." He shrugged casually as if he were stating the obvious. "Or passed around, flogged, then executed. I suppose it depends on how generous he’s feeling. I’m his brother in arms and you are just a worthless piece of ass to him.” The young man's tone dripped with condescension. “I see it on your face. You know it’s true.”Ignis pointed to the doorway again. “Just go.”“Alright, alright, babe. I’m leaving. See you in my dreams.” Six blew her a kiss as he left.******“In two days, Caesar will be hosting a feast in celebration of the Legion’s victory at the Dam. Tomorrow, I depart for Cottonwood Cove to escort some of the officers back to the Fort. I will return the following day.”Ignis dropped her fork and it clattered on her plate. “You’re leaving me here? Alone?" Her face was riddled with fear, but something else as well, Lucius noted. Sadness? Her hazel eyes pleaded with him. "Can’t I come with you?”He shook his head although trying not to let his inner regret be obvious. “You need to stay here and help with the preparations. I am sure your proficiency in cooking would be well appreciated by the kitchen slaves.” He hoped that the encouragement would help. It didn't seem to and she remained morose. Silence stretched between them and he found it disquieting. Their meal had thus far been pleasant, the two of them exchanging light conversation comfortably. He was eager to regain that atmosphere so he continued, “However, you will be accompanying me so ask Siri if she has any formal attire available for you.”“Alright." she resigned with a shrug to one shoulder and picked up her utensil again. "Who else will be there?” she asked before taking another bite.“Caesar, of course. Legate Lanius, Vulpes, the Praetorian Guard, and many of the centurions. Those that have wives will most likely bring them."“Well, doesn’t that sound like a swell time?” He noted her sarcasm.“Ignis, you must be on your best behavior. Admittedly, I have been overly indulgent in your lack of decorum, but the threat is very real.” She looked unconcerned, pushing her food around her plate with disinterest. “Please look at me, I need you to understand the seriousness of this.” Stubbornly her gaze met his. “If you conduct yourself in any other manner than that of a docile and obedient wife of a Legion officer, the consequences will be dire.” "I understand, maritus." Her expression had softened as she took his words to heart. “I will do my best not to disappoint you.”Lucius reached across the table to her free hand and interlaced his fingers with hers. "I just don't want you to get hurt." Or worse.****** “Close your eyes," Ignis called from behind the old sheet she had hung up in the corner of the tent. Lucius might be comfortable dressing and undressing in the middle of their home, but she was not. The garment she was now wearing wasn't modest by any standards. She felt exposed and debated throwing her tunic back on.“What? No. Stop being ridiculous," her husband called from the bed. She steeled herself and stepped out. Lucius' eyebrows nearly met his hairline. “What in Jupiter’s name is that?”“It’s… sleepwear. Sexy sleepwear." She explained, attempting to sound nonchalant. "But I’m not trying to be sexy. It’s just all Mr. Barton had for sale.”“It’s quite…” Lucius struggled to find the words.“Just stop.” Ignis interrupted and she made her way over and climbed under the blankets.He chuckled at her retort, but kept his gaze towards the canopy. "I'm beginning to think you enjoy making me crazy, woman." Maybe a little...She didn't respond as she turned towards the outside edge of the bed as usual and adjusted pillows and blankets around her. The nightie she was wearing might be more comfortable, but it did little to keep her warm in the chill of the desert night. She closed her eyes and felt the heaviness of impending sleep begin to envelop her. “Ignis?” Lucius' deep voice drew her back to consciousness.“Yes, maritus?” she mumbled.“Nevermind.”Ignis rolled over to face him, still drowsy and with eyes heavily lidded. “No, what is it?”He stared at her a while, then said quietly, “I was wondering if you would allow me to kiss you goodnight.”Her eyes flew open. “Oh. I…" She felt nervous. Was he going to press his advantage and prove himself to be the monster that she feared he was deep down? His temperament had been even and enjoyable all night. Had that been to get her guard down? Yet still, there was something about him that drew her in. "Just a kiss, right?”“Just a kiss,” he smiled.She found herself nodding slowly like her head was working of its own volition. “Okay, yeah.” Ignis braced for an onslaught, but none came. Instead, Lucius reached out carefully and laid his large, calloused hand on her jaw. His thumb gingerly caressed her cheek and he leaned forward while drawing her closer. Then he paused, his eye searching hers, giving her time to change her mind. Harnessing every ounce of confidence she could, she slid her hand behind his neck and pulled him towards her, closing the distance. Their tightly pursed lips quickly softened and parted slightly. Ignis was ready to lose herself completely to him, but before the kiss could escalate, Lucius pulled away slowly. He planted a small kiss on the tip of her nose and rolled onto his back. “Goodnight, marita.” Indeed.He made her feel weak in the best possible way. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Lucius tossed and turned as he slept. Terrifying visions of Ignis being ravished by faceless legionaries played in his mind. They violated her, one after another. He could see her tears, the blood on her thighs. Her screams rang through the cacophony of their crazed laughter. She called for him, begging for the protection he promised her. He tried to get to her, but was unable to move. He looked down to see what was holding him back to find his ankle was shackled to the corpse of his father. Dead eyes staring back at him. He sat up in bed, drenched in a cold sweat. His hand fumbled through the darkness until he found Ignis, safely on her side of the bed. He laid back down and noticed the bed shook ever so slightly. Then it stopped. Then it shook again. He placed his hand of Ignis’ shoulder to find her cold and shivering.“Come here,” he whispered into the darkness as he rolled his wife towards him and pulled her flush against his chest. She didn’t open her eyes, but tucked her head under his chin and draped her arm over his side, eager to absorb his body heat. He pulled the blankets up around their shoulders.“Thank you,” she murmured.He held her small frame firmly and slipped back into unconsciousness filled with contentment. ****** Ignis stirred a few hours later, her cheek pressed against Lucius’ muscled torso. The arm underneath her cradled lovingly, while his other hand rested on her bare hip, her nightgown having ridden up while she slept. In her initial confusion, she began to push away from him, but then she recalled how he had cared for her so tenderly as she lay there freezing her ass off in impractical sleepwear. His scent was so inviting and she nuzzled her face into his pectorals, savoring the feeling as the hair there tickled her skin. Fuck it. She tightened her arm around and drifted back to sleep, feeling warm and safe.******Dawn arrived to find Lucius and Ignis still wrapped up in an affectionate embrace, a tangle of arms and legs and messy hair. Lucius was painfully aware that he had overslept as brightness filtered through the threadbare canvas of the tent’s roof, but he found he could not muster the willpower to remove himself from her arms. He had never experienced anything like this before. Antonia, of course, had been a dutiful bride and allowed him to lay with her but she never held him, nor had he tried to hold her. Ignis made him feel something different. It was strange and foreign to every lesson he’d ever been taught growing up as a legionary, but somewhere in the recesses of his mind there was a quiet recognition. A realization that whatever this was, it was right and he wanted it. He felt her stretch under his hands and looked down at her. “Good morning.”“Mane bonum,” Ignis replied sleepily and he smiled into her hair at the sounded of the Latin rolling off her tongue so easily. To his happy surprise, she made no move to get up. Lucius trailed his fingertips back and forth lightly over her upper arm, relishing in the satiny feel of her pale skin."I have reconsidered your request and have decided to teach you some hand-to-hand combat moves."Ignis leaned away from him slightly so she could look at his face and beamed. "Really? What changed your mind?"Lucius didn't want to tell her about nightmare so he played it off with a casual shrug. "Nothing in particular. I just thought it over and it is a reasonable thing to ask. I do have to be away on occasion and I want you to be able to protect yourself. But,” he said sternly for emphasis, “you must promise me that this will not be used offensively - not against slaves, not against legionaries. This is for defense only and it must be kept a secret. If anyone was to find out about this..." His voice trailed off. He wasn’t sure want the repercussions would be for such as offense, but he was certain it would merit disciplinary action were it to be discovered."I promise, my lord. Thank you!" She rested her head back on his chest and hugged him.“I can't show you very much this morning because I’m due at Cottonwood Cove, but we can get started with a few things. Just to warn you, I'm not a forgiving teacher." Lucius tried to keep a straight face but she called his bluff.Ignis smirked and challenged him playfully, "Bring it on." After dressing and moving furniture, the lesson began. Lucius first demonstrated defensive stances and then how to deflect a frontal attack. “Now you try.” Ignis placed her feet as Lucius had and adjusted her frame. “Close be not quite. You have no stability and would succumb to an attack easily. Like this,” he grasped her hips and rotated them slightly. He had made hundreds of hands-on corrections in his years of leading drills, but with her, her felt as if he would ignite. His fingertips sunk into soft, pliant flesh instead of defined, hardened muscle. Feeling her body yield under his touch sent jolts of energy through him and he became angry at his inability to focus. When he spoke again, it was with bitterness. “Try again.”Ignis sighed and stood upright, turning to face him. “Again?” She shook her head. “I can’t keep up with the crazy fluctuations in your attitude towards me. What am I doing to make you so angry?”Lucius was jarred by her confrontation and realized that he had, in fact, been taking his frustrations out on her. “Nothing,” he replied mildly, “You’ve done nothing.” Nothing intentional.“Then why do you treat me this way?” she interrogated. “Everything is fine and then you just… I don’t know.” Ignis glanced up at him and her eyes revealed her hurt and confusion. “I just want to understand.”Lucius dropped his gaze. He couldn’t look at her. Not now. Not if her was going to be honest with her. “You drive me to distraction, woman. I don’t think you realize the effect you have on me. Being so close to you and not being as close as I’d like to be. Wanting to take what’s mine by the law of Caesar and knowing that I shouldn’t.” “Oh.” Lucius looked up again to see her shift uncomfortably, trepidation in her features. “But you’ve done nothing,” he consoled, taking her hand in his. “I’m just… conflicted.”“Because you’re not like the rest of the men here?” Her voice was gentle, but the question was cutting and it aggravated him.“I am loyal to Caesar.” But even he could hear the rote quality of the statement.“I know you are.” She quieted him, “I know. But you’re not an evil man.”Lucius had done many things in his time as a legionary. He had raped. He had tortured. He had killed. He had been the one to set fire to the pitch that covered the Malpais Legate. “Yes, I am.”Ignis freed her hand from his and set it fondly against his bearded face. “If that was true, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Lucius wasn’t sure she was right but once again, he was astonished by her capacity for empathy. “Now, let’s finish this lesson.”Lucius observed as she implemented the changes to her position, impressed at her ability to learn so quickly. The he showed her how to free herself in the event she was grabbed from behind. This required a lot of contact on his part, but he forced himself to remain focused on the lesson and not the student. He held her around the torso. “Lean back into me. Right, like that. Now bring your knees up to your chest. Perfect. Lastly, hurl all your weight forward.” She did as he bid and caused him to be thrown off balance and release her. “Just like that. Well done.”“Bad ass!” she exclaimed, clearly proud of herself. “Can you show me the Legion Assault thing now?”“That’s an offensive tactic. You don’t need to know that.”She pouted. It was a stereotypical female ploy, but entirely effective. “But it looks so awesome. Just show me. Please?” Eyelashes fluttered. Crafty temptress.Lucius supposed there was no harm in showing off a bit. There was no way she’s be able to master this technique by mere observation. It took legionaries months or years to perfect. He backed up in order to get enough room to sprint then launched himself forward, completing the maneuver with precision.Ignis nodded in awestruck appraisal and smirked. “See? Now was that so difficult?”Heavy booted footfalls heralded the end of the lesson. “Lucius, sir? Cursor Lucullus is here to ferry you to Cottonwood Cove.”“Understood. I will be there presently,” he called out and the boots retreated. He approached his wife. “Time for me to leave. Take care of yourself and I’ll see you tomorrow.” She stepped forward and encircled his neck with her arms. “Be safe.”Lucius returned the gesture, “I’m going to miss you, Ignis.”“I’ll miss you, too.” Her response was barely audible as she whispered against his throat, her lips grazing his skin. She looked up and dragged him closer to press a prudish kiss against his lips. “Vale.”****** The canvas rippled down and left Ignis in the dim light of the tent. What are you doing, you crazy girl? Are you actually falling for this guy? It was the last thing she wanted but it didn’t make it any less true. He wasn’t evil, she was sure of it. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe he had never done anything despicable. He was a legionary, after all. Everett hadn’t been part of the Legion, but had been a disgusting excuse for a human being. He had the opportunity to choose the right path time and time again but had ultimately chosen to be violent and manipulative. Lucius had been orphaned before being ripped from his home and forced to adapt if he wanted to survive. He was tarnished, without a doubt, but underneath the layers of Legion brainwashing, there was a man with a beautiful soul. Shaking off the tingling in her limbs, she ran through the exercises she had just learned, hell bent on proficiency. She made an attempt at performing the Legion Assault, stumbled, and fell forward. She got up and tried again with a similar result. Determination fueled her as she practiced until her muscles ached. She dragged herself over to the bed and collapsed face first. It carried his unique fragrance – musk and leather and desert sunshine. She buried her nose in the mattress and inhaled deeply, drinking in his essence until she thought she’d become intoxicated.Ignis peeled herself away from their bed, remembering that the next two days were going to very busy. She cleaned herself up and changed her rag which bore only the faintest spot of blood. The week was drawing to a close and Caesar would return to bear witness to the fulfillment of their marital duties. It turned her stomach to think of having that depraved egomaniac present when she and Lucius were together for the first time. She shrugged off the heaviness that had settled on her shoulders - there was no point to dwell on something that she couldn’t control. She finished dressing and left, heading to the medical tent to find Siri, noting she was significantly less anxious knowing Six was gone. The other legionaries persisted in their bawdy derision but Ignis’ feeling of security was bolstered in her newly acquired skills. Come at me, motherfuckers. I dare you.Both Octavia and Siri were there when Ignis arrived and she greeted her friends warmly. “I’ve come to see if you had anything suitable for me to wear to the feast tomorrow.” She felt guilty mentioning the event to these women who barely were rationed what was needed to sustain them. They didn’t appear to harbor any ill will towards her. After all, they were all in the same situation, more or less.Siri dug through some crates and produced a bolt of crimson cloth. “It’s the right color, but the men don’t like the fabric. They said it’s too much like something the dissolute wear. We only kept it to make bandages out of it. You’re welcome to it, though, if you’d like.”Ignis let the smooth material slide between her fingers. “It’s gorgeous. Thank you.”“And we did have some of the girls make you another tunic.” Siri handed her the new garment, which was neatly folded. Ignis’ guilt was renewed as she thought of little girls in rags sewing for her growing wardrobe. I suppose we all have our roles to fulfill.“Domina, how is your maritus?” Octavia roused her from her rumination.“You were right about him, Octavia. He is very kind. I feel very fortunate that he was the one who chose me. Decanus Six had intended to purchase me and I can’t imagine what that would be like.”“I can,” she whispered sadly.“What do you mean you can?” Ignis demanded. She received no response and asked again, “Octavia, what happened?” She looked at Ignis knowingly then shook her head as tears threatened to spill. “That piece of shit. I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him.”“Domina! Shhh!” Siri hushed her, terror etched in her features. “If the men hear you…”The three women embraced. Silent sobs quaked Octavia’s body while Siri and Ignis held her up, rubbed her back, and whispered encouragement. When she was calm, Ignis collected the fabric and headed back to the solitude and safety of her tent. She spent the remainder of the day sewing and plotting how to kill Six in the most painful way possible.****** The trip down the Colorado River was long and trying, the rapids nearly capsizing their boat several times. By the time they arrived at Cottonwood Cove, Lucius was soaked to the bone. There was nowhere he’d rather be than back in his quarters at the Fort with Ignis. Taking advantage of Lucullus’ non-talkative nature, Lucius has spent the calm periods of the voyage thinking about his wife and her compassionate and strong-willed nature – she was a wonder. He made his way to the headquarters building and knocked on the door before entering. “Lucius, my friend!” The centurion rose from the seat at his desk to greet his comrade with a kiss. “It has been too long.”Lucius nodded. “It has, Aurelius. How are things here?”Aurelius resumed his seat and invited Lucius to take the chair across from him, which he did. “All is well. Severus is proving himself worthy of his new rank so I am confident the outpost will be in good hands while I’m away. Canyon Runner is an exceptional slavemaster, which reminds me,” he trailed off and chuckled. “Rumor has it that a certain Praetorian has taken a new wife. I almost crucified the prime that told me because I believed him a liar but, fortunately for him, several other legionaries confirmed.”Lucius shrugged indifferently. He could never let the depths of his affection for Ignis be known. “Maybe I should relinquish my position and request a transfer to Cottonwood Cove. How relaxing it must be to sit around gossiping like old women.” Both he and Aurelius laughed. “It is true. I have a new wife. She was brought from New Vegas.”“That was a great bunch of captures, I must admit. Canyon Runner was exceedingly proud of that lot. There was a delicious looking young woman with long blonde hair and blue eyes.” Aurelius licked his lips.“Brahmin are for eating, women are for… other appetites.” Lucius snickered, but was secretly revolted at the ease with which he slipped into a predatory mindset in the company of his fellows.“I find they serve both purposes equally well.” Aurelius’ grin was nothing short of pure wickedness.After a thorough tour of the camp, Aurelius offered to prepare dinner for Lucius, but as he was unsure of what or whom that would include, he declined politely and retired for the night. He was grateful to have been given a room and cot to sleep on instead of a bedroll in a drafty tent, but without Ignis next to him, he might as well be sleeping in a cazador nest.******Ignis lay in the bed, feeling cold and lonely. She pulled Lucius' pillow to her chest and found it offered at least a little comfort. She wasn't sure she had be honest when he left, words just had tumbled from her mouth in the emotion of the moment, but she was certain now. She missed him. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The day of the celebratory feast, Ignis’ arrival at the kitchen and her offer to help was initially met with skepticism by the other women. Apparently a wife’s willingness to assist in preparations was unprecedented. The slaves attempted to shoo her away and were so bold as to even take the ear of corn she was trying to shuck from her hands. “No, no, Domina. Please don’t worry. We can take care of it.” The head cook said quietly.Ignis could feel herself getting annoyed, but maintained her composure. “What’s your name?”“Avis, Domina,” the young woman replied with stiff posture.“What a lovely name,” she smiled, “I’m Ignis. Do you remember me from the other day?”“Of course, mistress.”“You were such a help to me and now I’m here to be a help to you. Please.”Avis seemed unsure, but relented and led Ignis to a counter where she got to work preparing vegetables. The other women cast her curious glances and exchanged cautious whispers, but Ignis ignored them. Soon the cookhouse resumed its normal rhythm and sounds of chopping knives, clanging pans, and ladies’ gossip filled the air along with the savory aromas of braising meats and roasting vegetables. She inhaled deeply and spoke to Avis, who was standing next to her. “Dinner smells incredible. What are you planning for dessert?”Avis paused her blade, mid-chop and looked befuddled. “Dessert, Domina?”“You know, something sweet for after the meal? Dessert.” “My lady?”Ignis was shocked. How could she not know what dessert was? She glanced around at the other workers who were conspicuously listening in on their conversation equally as confused as Avis was. Then it dawned on her: most of these young women must have been born into slavery. Slaves, whose poor mothers were ripped from their homes, preyed upon by their abductors, and forced to carry the offspring of tyrants. Like living monuments, they were constant reminders of the atrocities committed by their legionary fathers – resented, unloved. It was sobering to realize that compared to these women, her life had been a cake walk. Unpleasant and full of trials, sure, but at least she had known freedom. She glimpsed at each precious, weathered, baffled face before her with adoration. “I’m going to teach you how to make pie.” ******Lucius was anxious to return the Fort, to return to Ignis. Aurelius was taking forever to gather his things. “Daylight is wasting. Are you ready yet?” “Calm yourself, Lucius. I need to make sure I have everything. It’s not as if I can borrow from someone else. Whose clothes would fit me?” A valid point. Aurelius of Phoenix was a very large man. The only other legionary that could lend him a change of clothing was Lanius and the legate was not the kind of man to share. “I know you just want to get back to fuck your wife, but you’ll just have to be patient.” You have no idea.Lucius ignored his comrade’s lewd comment and reasoned, “The trip back to Fortification Hill is against the current, so it will take considerably longer. Also, I need to make sure all the arrangements are in order for tonight.” He rolled his eyes at the centurion’s vanity as Aurelius tried to stuff another pair of sandals into an already overflowing duffle bag. Lucius grabbed the shoes from him and threw them across the room where they landed with a clatter. The large man scowled and Lucius wrapped a reassuring arm around his shoulders. “Don’t worry, Aurelius, you shall be the prettiest one in attendance.”“You filthy degenerate,” Aurelius guffawed.******A dozen mutfruit pies and many new friends later, Ignis headed back to her living space with the early afternoon sun beating down on her. The women in the kitchen were boiling water for her bath and it would be delivered soon. She had just enough time to practice her combat moves. She pushed herself harder than she had yesterday, focusing on achieving perfect form, and excited to show Lucius how she had improved in such a short time. With lungs burning from exertion, she finished the drills and set about hanging up a sheet as her husband had asked her to. No sooner than that was done, the slaves arrived with her bath. After everything was in place, Ignis held out a basket of fresh fruit and invited them all to take a piece, which they did gratefully then left her to bathe in quiet.Ignis undressed. Her rags we clean. The week was over. She took a deep breath and stepped into the tub. She sank into the hot water and consciously willed her body to relax as she massaged her aching muscles, not use to the demands she had made of them the past two days. She washed her hair and body then leaned back closing her eyes allowing the soothing heat to minister to her nerves. Ignis heard the tent flap open. Was Six back? The stupid partition was blocking her view. Her pulse began to race. Even with all her practice, she was at an extreme disadvantage and could not fight him off. The thud of boots approached. I’ll go down swinging, you bastard.“Ignis?” Lucius’ deep voice resonated through her, instantly alleviating her fear. She exhaled.“I’m here, maritus.” He remained behind the sheet, respecting her privacy even though it was the last thing she needed right now. She wanted to see him. “I wanted to let you know that I have returned from Cottonwood Cove. I need to make sure everything is in set for tonight and shower, then I’ll come back for you.”“Of course.” She heard him make his way the doorway and before she could weigh the wisdom of the idea, she called out, “My lord?”His footsteps halted. “Do you need something, marita?”Ignis steadied her voice. “Will you scrub my back for me please?”There was a considerably long pause as she waited for his answer. “Certainly.” She drew her knees to her chest and leaned forward as he poked his head shyly around the curtain. “Salve.”The juxtaposition of scary, cantankerous warrior and gentle, awkward giant was utterly amusing to Ignis. She chortled and replied, “Salve.”Ignis handed him the cloth and soap and he knelt behind her. “Are you well?” Lucius asked as he began to wash her. “Did you encounter any problems in my absence?”“I’m okay, my lord. No trouble.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “How was your trip?”“Fine, thank you.” His gaze swept her face fondly.“I missed you,” they said in unison, then erupted into nervous laughter. He finished and handed her the washcloth as he stood, then leaned forward to kiss the top of her head.“I’ll return shortly.” She smiled at him and nodded. “I’ll be here.” ******To Lucius’ relief, all preparations that had been made in his absence exceeded his expectations. A long table was set up in the middle of the camp spread with linens of red and gold and torches had been placed all around. On the way to the barracks, he passed the cookery where the evening’s meal filled the air with spice, making his stomach growl. After showering quickly in the tepid water, he dressed in his ceremonial uniform and returned to retrieve Ignis.“Marita, are you ready yet?” he called out. Her silhouette was visible through the cloth in the corner.“Almost. Just another minute or two. This isn’t,” she made a strangled noise, “working the way I want it to.”“Do you need help?”“No, no. I can do this. After a lifetime of buttons and zippers, I just need to get used to all the belts and tying.” He prickled at the reminder that she had been taken from all she knew, but he knew it hadn’t been meant offensively. “I think I got it.”She stepped out from behind the curtain, looking uncharacteristically self-conscious although he couldn’t fathom why. She looked like an empress as she stood there, clothed in deep red fabric with gold embroidery that shimmered when it caught the light. The gown draped around her neck and shoulders modestly and was belted around the waist, accentuating the roundness of her stomach and hips. Aurelius will be disappointed to be second place. He was formulating the words to tell her how incredible she looked when Ignis burst into laughter. “Why are you wearing a dress?”Lucius scowled at her and puffed out his chest. “It is not a dress!” He snarled, defensive. He calmed himself and explained, “This is a toga, the traditional apparel of Roman men. It is worn on special occasions, such as tonight.”“Oh, stop your frowning. You’re still handsome.” She rebuked cheerfully and lightly touched his arm as she passed him on her way out of the tent. She poked her head back in briefly and smiled coyly. “Even in a dress.” She let the tent close with a giggle. He couldn’t help but smile at her vivaciousness. Ignis followed him with a regal grace and he watched the reactions of the legionaries as they walked by. They stood at attention and saluted him, but their eyes were on her and he couldn’t blame them. She was gorgeous. And determined. And caring, affectionate, brave. They came to a split in the road, and Lucius stopped. His emotions in turmoil as he thought.“My lord,” she whispered, “are you okay?”“Just thinking.” She stood there quietly, while he contemplated. Then without notice he started walking briskly down the path on the right. He noted her hesitation when she realized it was not the route to the feast, but said nothing and trailed behind him. He sensed her apprehension as the neared the pens full of captures and he signaled to one of the slave masters who came running immediately.“Yes, sir?” the legionary asked.Lucius looked at the soldier pointedly. “I want her collar removed.” Then he turned to Ignis, his blue eyes meeting her hazel ones, and said, “Permanently.” He watched as her eyes grew wide in surprise, but she remained silent.“Of course.” The slave master complied and with a jingle of keys, a click of a lock, and an audible sigh from Ignis, the collar was off and the legionary retreated. She waited until the soldier was out of earshot.“Thank you, my lord,” she breathed. “I don’t, I just… thank you.” Lucius smiled down at her and offered his arm. She looked at him in confusion. “What about walking behind you?”He shook his head as he picked up her hand and tucked it into his elbow. “You belong next to me.” As they approached Caesar’s throne, which had been brought down for the occasion, Lucius noted the dictator’s eyebrow raised with curiosity. They knelt before him. “Lucius, Ignis.”“Lord Caesar”, they replied together with bowed heads.“Rise.” Caesar squinted his eyes and pursed his lips at Lucius before addressing his wife. “Lady Ignis, you seem to be underdressed for the occasion. Have you misplaced your necklace?” Lucius interjected to explain, but Caesar raised a hand to silence him. “Lord, my husband had my collar removed, if that’s what you mean.” Lucius could detect the fear in her voice. Maybe removing her collar so soon had not been a wise decision.He sneered at her. “Now why would he do something like that?” Caesar raised his hand again preemptively, casting a warning look at Lucius. When Ignis didn’t answer right away, he made his irritation known. “I’m growing impatient for your response, woman.” Subtle anger flashed in her eyes.Ignis looked directly at the dictator and spoke clearly. “He had it removed because he knows I will not try to run away, my lord.”“He’s managed to break you so completely in a matter of days?” he inquired. “Quite impressive.”“I’m not broken” she replied, “I just know how to adapt well, Lord Caesar.”“It would seem that was true.” Caesar still looked unamused. “I’d prefer you broken, in all honesty.” He sighed heavily. “But so long as you don’t cause trouble and provide your husband with children, he can do as he sees fit. Go.” ******True to Lucius’ word, all the legionaries present wore togas and sandals that laced up their calves. He smirk at her as if to gloat and she rolled her eyes in response. Caesar sat at the head of the table, with Lucius to his left and the Legate Lanius to his right. Next to Lanius, sat Vulpes Inculta and his wife. She was quite beautiful and clearly tribal, with long black hair and bright green eyes. Ignis could see bruises in various stages of healing that bloomed in shades of purple and yellow on her light brown skin. Ignis gave her a small, friendly smile and the young woman quickly dropped her eyes. Ignis sat between her husband and a legionary that Lucius had introduced as Aurelius. She had grown used to the stares from the other men in the camp, but something about the way the centurion looked at her made her hair stand on end. The other praetorians were next, some of whom she recognized from her first night at the Fort. A few had wives with them. They say quietly, looking at their folded hands until their husbands required something. Further down the table were other centurions, but Lucius hadn’t told her who they were.Caesar’s voice drew her back from her people watching. “Where’s your wife tonight, Lanius? You bloody her up too much again?” The legate nodded. “If she would just learn to listen, my life and hers would be so much easier. She acts as if I damaged her ears when I blinded her.” Ignis grabbed Lucius’ toga under the table with a shaking hand. He patted it with his own massive paw to comfort her.The meal was served and the men took turns exchanging stories. The women sat quietly, pretending to not listen, but Ignis couldn’t help being drawn in when it was the legate’s turn.Lanius’ voice boomed from behind his mask as he recounted the recent conquest of a local tribe. Vulpes seemed rather disinterested as if he had already heard the tale. The other men listened politely, but Ignis was on the edge of her seat. It was horrible to hear about the enslavement of more innocent wasteland folks, but she loved a good story and the legate had an almost poetic manner of speech. “I was positioned in the center, with a centuria before me and another behind awaiting for the trumpet to sound and begin the attack. I had been eating gecko jerky all day and something didn’t seem quite right about it, but it was the only rations we had left. Suddenly, I broke wind with such force, the legionaries in front of me launched the offensive, thinking it had been the trumpet. I turned to tell the unit behind me to attack as well, but found them all passed out from the stench.”Ignis snorted loudly and all heads at the table turned to look at her. She quickly clasped her hands over her nose and mouth and looked and Lucius apologetically. She could tell he was disappointed in her. Dead silence filled the air with the exception of the torches crackling. Suddenly Lanius started laughing, the acoustics of his metal mask amplifying the sound. Ignis felt Lucius’ eyes burning into her as her shoulders shook silently. She tried with everything she had but couldn’t contain her laughter any longer and cackled boisterously. Lucius applied gentle pressure to her knee and she composed herself. The legate also regained control and concluded his story.“It turns out, it wasn’t gecko after all. The provisioner we bought it from was a degenerate charlatan and had used ghouls to make jerky.” Ignis’ stomach lurched. “I hunted him down though and brought him to Aurelius.”“He made very good jerky.” Aurelius laughed. It took Ignis a moment to realize what the centurion meant and she tried to subtly scoot her chair closer to Lucius.“Enough!” Caesar yelled and the men silenced. “You two are disgusting fucks, you know that?” Then he began to drone on about the glory of the Legion and the rebuilding of civilization. Meanwhile, the kitchen workers returned and cleared the plates and then brought dessert. Ignis smiled at the now familiar faces as they passed. Caesar examined the slice of pie that was set in front of him and grabbed a young woman by the arm. "What the fuck is this?”The girl was clearly terrified. “I believe it’s called desert, my lord.”“Desert?” his tone was brutally condescending. “We live in a fucking desert. Does this look like a desert to you?” He held the plate close to her face.“N-n-no, my lord.” She looked toward Ignis, her eyes pleading for help, and Caesar followed her gaze. “What is this?” he demanded.“It’s mutfruit pie, Lord Caesar,” she explained, “Dessert.”His eyes narrowed on her as he shoved the slave away and brought the pie to his nose. “You have something to do with this?”“Yes, my lord. I taught the kitchen girls how to make it today.”Lucius spoke up in defense of his wife. “Ignis is a very good cook, Lord. I am confident it will meet your approval.”Caesar took a small bite. “Not bad.”“Thank you, Lord Caesar.”“I didn’t say it was good. I just said it wasn’t bad.”Ignis watched Lucius as he took his first bite and his eyes grew wide. His expression softened and he nodded in approval. He leaned close to her a whispered, “Well done, marita.” She smiled to herself. The other legionaries dug in, all clearly pleasantly surprised by the addition to the menu.After finishing his pie, Caesar pushed his plate away and spoke again. "So, tell me Lucius, is your wife's monthly bleeding done?" Silence fell over the crowd.Lucius coughed and looked at Ignis questioningly and tipped his head in Caesar's direction, allowing her to answer directly. Her cheeks burned. "Yes, my lord, it ended today.""Wonderful. Then I will be seeing you tomorrow." He smiled broadly and waggled his eyebrows. The men at the table sniggered, clearly aware of the arrangement, but Ignis would not be thrown off balance. "My husband and I look forward to your visit." She smiled sweetly at him. She thought she could hear a low rumble of laughter under Lanius’ mask. ******When the festivities concluded and they were excused, they began the walk back to their tent. The evening sky was clear and warm breeze blew, carrying the scent of wood smoke and desert sage. Lucius looked around to make sure they were alone and then took her hand in his as they walked, slowing their pace. “I didn’t have the chance to tell you before, but you look really beautiful tonight.”“Thank you, my lord,” she smiled at him shyly. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you at the feast. I tried my hardest. I really did.”“I know, Ignis.” He squeezed her hand. “You are just so very different from the Legion expects from its women. I worry that your sharp wit and untamed tongue will get you in a situation where I will not be able to help you. However, I thought you exhibited a lot of dignity this evening. I wasn’t embarrassed at all.” This time she squeezed his hand.“Can I ask you something?” He glanced at her timidly. “I promise it’s not anything too personal. At least, I don’t think it is.” They approached a large boulder and Lucius steered her to it and sat down, pulling her into his lap.“What would you like to know?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around her waist.Ignis hesitated, her pursed lips askew, “Why did you take my collar off? And why did you have me walk next to you? I thought that was a big ‘no-no.”It wasn’t personal, but it was a complicated question. Lucius took a deep breath. “The day we met, I initially let you believe you were a common slave, remember?” She nodded. “That was to establish dominance and to –,“ Lucius couldn’t say the words.“Break me?”“Yes,” he sighed. “All those rules, the collar, beatings, intimidation… they are meant to crush the spirit and produce an obedient, subservient husk.” He met her eyes then. “It’s a dangerous game to play, but I don’t want to do that to you. With that being said, I had your collar removed and had you walk alongside of me to show Caesar and everyone else that I see you not as a slave, but as my wife. I know that to you, the differences are negligible, but it changes the Legion’s perception of you.” She looked away from him and out into the star filled night sky.“I see,” she said after a while, then looked at him. “Thank you for being honest with me.” He nodded slightly. “I’m really tired. Let’s just get home.” Home. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Lucius lit a single lantern while Ignis changed her clothes. He brought it over to the nightstand and dimmed it so it wasn’t glaring, but it was bright enough to guide her safely. He undressed and settled onto his back and rested his head in his interwoven fingers. Ignis approached, the warm glow of the flickering light washing over her porcelain skin. She smiled shyly at him as she climbed into bed and immediately curled into his side with her head resting on his shoulder. Lucius was stupefied by her lack of hesitation, but unlaced his hands and brought an arm down to cradle her close to him. They lay there together for a while, staring at the canvas in awkward silence, both weighed down by what the next day would bring and neither of them sure on what could be said. Lucius didn’t find it too astonishing when Ignis spoke up. "So,” she began. “Tomorrow, huh?" Lucius merely grunted in acknowledgement. She sighed heavily and continued, "I don't want our first time... you know...to be in front of Caesar."Lucius remained staring at the canopy with a furrowed brow and tightly drawn mouth. It was an uncomfortable scenario, indeed. "There is nothing that can be done about it." Pregnant silence filled the space between them again."Yes, there is." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she laid her hand on his bare chest. He looked at her. She was clearly nervous, with trembling lips and wide eyes that searched his. It took him a moment to register her meaning. "Are you saying - ," Biting her bottom lip, she nodded her head vigorously and Lucius' question was lost as her mouth crashed onto his. He groaned in surprise but returned in kind, sweeping his tongue over her lips which she parted instantly, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Gripping her waist, he rolled them together so she was pinned on her back by his weight. His hand traveled slowly up her side, over her ribs, brushing over her breast, and came to rest against her neck. Lucius drew his lips over her chin, her jaw, her throat scarcely daring to believe that this was happening. "Are you sure?" She nodded again. He moved back a bit so he could meet her gaze. "Say it."She looked into his eyes fully and brought her hand around his neck, running her fingers through his dark, wavy hair. "Yes, I'm sure." He lowered his mouth to rejoin hers. The kiss was softer, but still full of their mutual hunger. She arched her lower back and pressed herself into his growing erection and he stifled a moan. Her responsiveness amazed and thrilled him."Not yet, amica mea," he murmured against her skin. "I fully intend on taking my time with you." He felt a shiver ripple through her, and continued, "but first, let us be rid of this." He gently tugged at the hem of her sleepwear then sat up to allow her to do the same. She pulled the garment over her head with a fluid motion and let it fall to the floor then laid back against the pillows while his eyes drank her in greedily. "Gods, Ignis. You are breathtaking." A blush crept across her cheekbones.Lucius laid back down next to her, with his head propped up on one hand and with his free one traced the outlines of her body, relishing in the silken touch under his fingertips. He watched her eyelids flutter as he cupped her small breast carefully and brushed his thumb over a pink nipple. He rolled the stiffening bud between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a whimper from her kiss-swollen lips. The sound was so intoxicating that he feared it would have been forbidden too if it fell on the wrong ears. He repeated the action and her eyes flashed with need as she rubbed her thighs together. There was the fire he adored.Lucius slid his hand down over her stomach to the thatch of dark curls below to find her legs clamped like a vice. "Open for me, carrisima." Ignis parted her thighs, but only slightly. He laughed inwardly as he enjoyed a challenge. With his hand resting on her apex, he lowered his mouth to her other breast and swirled his tongue around, drawing the rosy nipple to a peak. She relaxed her legs with a shuttering breath and arched into his touch. "Please, husband," she begged breathlessly."I told you I would take care of you, marita,” Lucius muttered against her. “Be patient." Ignis whined. He slid a finger down, finding her drenched with arousal and sucked in a breath. He ached to be buried in her, but he wanted to please her first. He slid his finger back up, parting her labia gently. Reaching the top, he traced a lazy circle around the sensitive pearl of flesh there, then brushed across it, making her whimper again. The noises she made were like a drug and he was eager to pull more from her. His finger moved back down and dipped slightly into her opening. Her hand flew to his shoulder keeping him in place as she rocked into his hand. "What is it you want?" He had never been with a woman who had wanted for anything except for it to be over. She blushed and shook her head. "Tell me, wife. Just ask and I'll do it." She shook her head again, clearly embarrassed to verbalize her desires. "This?" he asked, sliding the digit into her tight warmth just a little more.She gasped, "Yes." The pressure remained on his arm so he pushed deeper, her thighs parting further and hips rolling up to grant him access. Lucius watched her with absolute fascination. She was turned towards him, eyes closed tightly, quivering lip caught between her teeth. He leaned forward to kiss her throat as he began to withdraw his finger, then slid it back, this time to the knuckle. She moaned loudly and Lucius continued his ministrations, completely lost in the way she moved and sounded as he touched her. He needed more. He broke away, noticing the purple markings he'd left on her. His lips made their way down her body to her breasts, then to her navel where he noticed faint silver lines. He smiled against them thinking about her belly round with his child. He moved lower. "W-what are you doing?""Don't you like being kissed here?" He emphasized his question by flicking his thumb over her clitoris.Her breath hitched. "I d-don’t know. I’ve never…""Let me,” he interrupted. “Please, Ignis. I want to." She hesitated for a moment then nodded her permission and he slid between her legs, draping them over his shoulders. The tension had returned so he laid his head against her inner thigh, like she had done to him the day they met, looked at her playfully, and whispered, "Relax.""Oh, you!" She giggled and tried to squirm away, but Lucius caught her hips and pulled her back towards him. Her laughter halted abruptly and she froze when his lips brushed against her folds."I have thought about this all week," he purred into her as his thumbs gently spread her open. "Thought about how you would feel, how you would taste." He licked her dripping entrance, and she cried out while threading her fingers through his hair. He began to lap at her, with long, cautious strokes, experimenting to find what brought her the most pleasure. He settled over the little bundle of nerves and sucked gently, he felt his scalp sting as she tightened her hand into a fist in his hair. He stayed there, alternating between suckling, swirling, and flicking over the sensitive flesh. Her hips rocked rhythmically and her legs shook as she neared her peak. He pressed his thumb into her wet center and she instantly came apart with a high pitched wail, her hands flying up to grip the headboard, back arching deeply pressing herself harder against his mouth. It was the most exquisite sight he had ever beheld. He stayed there, softly pressing his lips to her womanhood until her body stop shuddering, then crawled back up the bed to find her glossy eyed and panting heavily. Ignis had never experienced such intense pleasure in her entire life. When Lucius was within reach, she grabbed his face and pulled his mouth to hers. The taste of herself on his lips drove her wild and she pushed him onto his back, grinning seductively. "Your turn." She took a minute to appreciate his masculine beauty. His deep blue eyes that studied her with fascination, his strong jaw camouflaged by his facial hair, every muscle carved to perfection from a lifetime of training and combat. His heavy cock was semi-hard and lay against his abdomen, the head just peeking from beneath the foreskin and weeping. "I think you're breathtaking, too," Ignis murmured, running a fingertip over the thick blue vein that ran along the underside of his length, causing him to twitch and inhale sharply. She settled comfortably on her knees next to his hip and leaned over, peppering almost imperceptibly soft kisses over the wrinkled skin of his scrotum and up his member until she reached the head. She pulled his foreskin back slightly and licked away the droplet of pre-come. She stroked him lazily a few times before wrapping her lips around him and taking him deeply."Fuck," he whimpered as he lifted his head to get a better view.She pulled her mouth off of him and with a smirk, mockingly reproached him, "Watch your language." His head fell back onto the pillow with a laugh and Ignis resumed her sweet torture. Ignis relished the way he grew harder in her mouth as she swirled, and sucked, and teased. Knowing she was the cause drove her forward with abandon. She willed herself to relax and then took him deeply again, this time into her throat where she remained as her tongue tracing around the base of him.“Amica, I need to be in you.” Lucius’ voice was hoarse and filled with desire. “Please, deliciae.”Ignis slid her lips from him slowly and moved up to straddle him. She leaned forward as she reached behind her to guide him in and he caught a nipple in his mouth, sucking roughly. She gasped and fell forward, smashing his face with her sternum. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry!” she giggled, struggling to right herself. “I don’t think I’m coordinated enough for this.”Lucius smiled at her lovingly and teased, “It will be quite interesting to explain how I broke my nose.” She shoved his shoulder playfully as his hand snaked between her legs and took hold of himself. “Here.”Ignis sighed as he rubbed himself along her sex, then held his cock still at her opening, waiting for her. With hands planted against his chest, she slowly lowered herself onto him, closing her eyes and reveling in the sensation as she stretched around his girth. She opened them when he hilted inside her, to see Lucius’ eyes roll back as a litany of unfamiliar Latin spilled from his lips. He opened his eyes to see her staring at him. “Are you alright?”“Oh hell yes,” she breathed. “You?”He chuckled at her response, running his hands up her smooth thighs coming to rest on her hips. “I do not think I have ever been more so.”Ignis started to move then, locking eyes with the gorgeous man beneath her and she rocked her hips, feeling him brush against her cervix as he filled her. Lucius’ fingertips dug into her flesh and it only served to fuel her desire. She leaned forward and kissed his throat and chin before capturing his lips and entwining their tongues heatedly. His hands traced up her spine, pulling her closer and he thrust his hips slowly almost withdrawing completely from her before he would sink back in. Ignis felt a burning ache building within her once more and began grinding herself against him.“Are you getting close again, marita?” Ignis nodded furiously. “As am I,” he whispered against her ear. “Can I finish in you, my love?” The thought of him coming inside her, filling her with his seed sent her over the edge and she arched back as her orgasm exploded through her before collapsing onto his chest. He continued to pump into her slowly as she rode out the aftershocks with his hands resting on her thighs.“Oh my god, Lucius,” she panted with her lips pressed to his shoulder. Ignis instantly realized her mistake. “I-I’m sorry, my lord.”He was quiet for a few seconds, before speaking. “Say it again.” His voice was low and dark and it frightened Ignis.“I’m sorry.”“No,” he ground out, “my name.” His grip tightened on her thighs. “Say my name again.”She brought her hand to the side of his face and traced his jaw. “Lucius.”With a primal growl, he flipped them over, remaining fully seated in her. He hovered over her and began to thrust again with a deliberate snap of his hips. Ignis’ initial surprise at his change in demeanor wore off quickly and she wrapped her legs around his waist to take him deeper, eliciting another slew of Latin curses. He quickened his pace, slamming into her. She winced at the twinge of pain deep inside her. It hurt, but it was delicious. "Did I hurt you?" Lucius asked, stopping.Ignis didn't answer. She pressed her heels into his back and looked up at him with lustful eyes. "Just fuck me." He kissed her roughly and did as she commanded, taking her hard and fast. She called his name between heavy breaths and whimpers of pleasure and when she felt the head of his cock begin to swell as he neared his climax, she looked at him and smiled. She wanted this, she wanted all of him. She lifted her mouth to his and swept her tongue across his lips. "Let me feel you come." His eyes locked on hers and with an animalistic growl, he spilled into her, while she clung to his shoulders and kissed his collarbone. As the last of waves of his pleasure washed over him, he lowered himself to his elbows and rested his forehead against hers before finding her lips with his. He kissed her forehead and started to withdraw, but she clutched him to her body. "Just one more minute." Lucius conceded and ran his fingers through her hair as she pressed feather light kisses to his face.When Ignis finally released him, he cleaned her gently then pulled her close with her back pressed against his chest and wrapped his strong arms around her as he nuzzled her neck, his coarse facial hair tickling her.He still hadn't said anything to her, but knowing that he wasn't one for a lot of conversation, thought nothing of it."Bonam noctem, maritus,” she said, reaching behind her to hug his head awkwardly before letting go and getting into a comfortable position.“Bonam noctem.” Lucius’ mind was in a whirlwind as he lay there, holding his bride tightly. He felt her body grow heavy and her breathing fall into a slow, steady rhythm as she fell asleep quickly in his embrace. She was so trusting of him, giving herself without reservation and accepting him completely in return. She knew what he was and the kinds of things he had done in his life, but somehow she was able to see the man behind the legionary, behind the Praetorian. Somehow she breathed life into that man and made him more than a figment of Lucius’ imagination. It was a gift, unknowingly given, but still, he cherished it.“Te amo, Ignis,” he murmured into her hair. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Ignis stirred as she felt something hard along the cleft of her buttocks. Sleepily, she stretched and pressed herself back against it causing the man behind her to groan and pull her hips closer.“Good morning, temptress,” he said hoarsely, his voice rough from disuse.She feigned innocence. “Temptress? Me?” She ground against him again, casting a mischievous glance over her bare shoulder. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”“Let me show you what I’m talking about.” Lucius whispered as he took her hand and wrapped it around his growing erection, pumping himself into her fist with painful slowness. Ignis felt warmth flood through her as he grew harder in her grip.“Quite the affliction, my lord,” Ignis nodded solemnly, “Is there anything I can do to help?""There is, in fact." He removed his hand from hers and slipped it between her thighs. Ignis parted willingly, eager to feel his touch again. He hummed approvingly as fingers slid over her slick folds. "You are so wet, amica. So tight." A single finger slipped into her and she gasped, then moaned when it was quickly followed by a second, but she yearned to be filled with something more substantial. She pouted. "Don't tease me." He withdrew his touch and pulled her leg back, draping it over his own. He aligned himself with her opening and pushed in slowly from behind."Touch yourself, Ignis," he commanded gently as he lazily thrust and nibbled on her shoulder and the slender column of her neck. His hand left her thigh and trailed up and resting on her abdomen and she reflexively sucked in as memories of Everett came to the forefront."What are you doing, my love?"“I'm just... it's a habit,” she said softly, shaking her head. “My body isn't what is used to be before children." Her late husband was the last thing she wanted to think of right now. Lucius’ voice brought her back to the present. "You are a goddess and I worship you,” Lucius whispered into her ear, before tracing the arc of cartilage with the tip of his tongue."I'm driving you to heresy.""Among other things,” he chuckled. "Touch yourself," he reiterated, his voice low and sensual.Her fingers slid down over her body, over his own hand that held her against him with loving firmness, to where they were joined. She brushed across her clit and whined, the sinfulness of the act as thrilling as the sensation itself. She teased the bundle of nerves, causing her walls to tighten around him instinctively. His breath hitched in her ear and he increased his pace. In a sudden streak of boldness, she moved her hand a little lower and felt herself stretched around his thickness, both of them slick. She marveled at how her body accommodated him and at how hard he became to fill her so perfectly."Ignis. Oh gods,” he gasped, “You are... something else, marita mea.” She smiled as she looked back at him, his hooded eyes locked on hers, “Do you like the way we feel together?”"Yes," she answered breathlessly as she returned to rubbing the sensitive bud of flesh, harder and faster this time, feeling her orgasm building quickly. "I love the way you feel in me, Lucius."Lucius grunted loudly as he came suddenly and forcefully at her words. The warmth that spread within as he filled her with his seed and the twitching of his cock brought her to her own finish and she convulsed around him with a spent cry. They stayed together, unmoving with the exception of exchanging light touches and kisses until their hearts stopped pounding and they caught their breath. Then he slid from her and she whined at the loss of his intimate proximity. They cleaned up quickly and Lucius pulled on his tunic and went to his desk.He stood there, gathering papers, presumably to bring with him when he reported for his shift. Ignis admired him as she dressed, taking in his powerful form and handsome features. Yep, definitely falling for him. She smiled to herself as she was putting on her sandals. "I have to go down to the storehouse again this morning. Is there anything you'd like me to get in particular or something you'd like me make?" He didn't answer, deep in concentration. "Lucius," she said loudly to get his attention. It worked, but not in the way she had anticipated. His eyes were dark and his jaw set as he looked up from his work. Ignis was puzzled and then it clicked. “Oh ho ho!” she exclaimed, threading her fingers through her hair and leaning back as she laughed. “I see how it is now." She glared at him. "I’m only allowed to call you by your name if you’re balls deep in me." Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.“Ignis…” Lucius warned although his eyes had gone back to the pile of documents.“No," she interjected sharply, her heart aching with his sudden callousness. "This is bullshit." She stormed over to the front of his desk and crossed her arms, a sandal still in hand. "You took my collar off. You said you viewed me as your wife and not a slave." He looked up at her then and she continued, caught up in the whirlwind of her fury. "A wife calls her husband by his name. You need to make up your mind and figure out what the hell it is that you want, so I can know if I should call you maritus or dominus." she hissed in emphasis as she strode toward the exit, still only wearing one shoe.“Get back here," Lucius commanded, finally finding his voice.She lifted her chin and scrunched up her face as if she was considering it, they shot him a pointed look. “No.”“Ignis, now!" He yelled, but it was futile. She cast him a final look of defiance and left, letting the canvas drop hoping the sound would mask the sob that she failed to choke back.******“Gods be damned,” Lucius muttered to himself. After all the progress that had been made, after last night, he felt as if he was back where he started with her. He sat down in his chair and buried his face in his hands. Infuriating woman. Lucius inhaled deeply and caught the scent of her, still lingering on his fingers, and groaned. Thoughts of the previous seven days filled his head. He dragged his hands down his face in exasperation. He did want her to be his wife in every sense of the word. He didn’t want to go back to tense exchanges and shy touches and he certainly didn’t want a servant who laid still for him and obediently allowed him to copulate with her. Lucius put on his armor and resumed his seat, making the decision to work while he waited for her to return. “Why aren’t you with Caesar?” Ignis questioned surprisingly when she walked back into the tent and hour later and saw him at his desk.“There are other praetorians with him for now. I need to resolve this situation with you.” She opened her mouth to speak but he raised a finger to his lips. “Quietly.”“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” She walked over to the table and deposited the armful of produce and canned goods she had picked up, having left her basket in her haste. “I have things to do before I’m put on exhibit and fucked like a whore for your precious Imperator’s entertainment.”He sighed and walked over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Enough,” he said gently. She tried to wrench herself away from his touch, but he held fast. “Enough. You are right.” She stopped moving then and looked at him. “There is no reason that you should not call me by my name when we are alone together. I would like that very much, actually.”“Really?” Lucius nodded as he pulled and chair out from the table and sat. He patted his lap and she didn’t hesitate even slightly before perching herself on his muscular thigh.“Ignis, I need you to try to understand that I’m going against everything I’ve been taught, accepted, and lived for almost my whole life. I need you to be patient with me.” She raised a cynical eyebrow at him. “I know, I know, I know. I shouldn’t even say that to you. It sounds somewhat ridiculous.” Her contemptuous glare intensified. “Alright, completely ridiculous,” he conceded.She sat quietly thinking for a minute and her expression softened. “I get it. Sort of, I guess. The Legion has told you, all of you, that women are objects and not people.” Ignis looked at him. “You know, I saw Vulpes’ wife last night, saw all the bruises on her, saw the other wives, how sad and scared they were. I heard Lanius talking about beating and blinding his wife.” She paused, her breath shuttering before she continued, “And I was so thankful. God help me, but I was thankful. Because out of all the men that could have bought me, I ended up with you.” She laid her head against his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her. “So if anything, I should commend you for the way you’ve treated me.”Lucius was flabbergasted, “How are you so good, Ignis?” She shrugged in his embrace but said nothing. He held her for a while, enjoying the way her body relaxed into his. “You remind me of my mother.”She lifted her head and smirked. “That is one of the top ten things you should never say to your wife.”He laughed receptively. “I meant it as compliment,’ he assured her. “She was strong and compassionate, just as you are.”“Oh.” A blush crept across her cheeks. “Thank you.” He smiled at her and bounced his knee playfully. “I need to report now.” Ignis stood up and smoothed down her dress before walking him to the doorway.“Will you talk to Caesar about tonight?” she asked hesitantly. “Tell him that we…”“Did it like mole rats?” he winked at her.“Lucius!” She punched him playfully in the shoulder and winced as her fist collided with his armor.Lucius straightened his face into an austere expression. “I warned you about attacking legionaries. You must now face the consequences.” She paled visibly while he spoke and then he grinned wickedly as he reached forward and pulled her against him with one hand and tickled her with the other. She shrieked and wriggled in his grasp until he finally relented, satisfied with her punishment. She was smiling as she pushed back her disheveled hair, her eyes crinkling, her cheeks dimpled. Lucius cupped her face in his hands and kissed her passionately. “I adore you, you know.” She kissed him again.“Yeah, I know.”He bid her goodbye with another kiss then hurried to his lord’s side, his mind reeling with the events of the morning and the predicament of this evening.“Lucius, you’re very late today,” Caesar remarked dryly as Lucius took his position next to the throne and dismissed his subordinate.“Yes, Lord Caesar. I apologize. I had a situation with my wife that needed my attention,” he explained.“I hope she isn’t too bruised up. I’d like her to looking somewhat presentable tonight when I come to,” he paused as he pondered his wording, “ensure the validity of your marriage.”“Actually, my lord,” Lucius cleared his throat nervously, “last night we…” he trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it appropriately.Caesar erupted in riotous laughter, cutting him off. “Is that so?” Lucius nodded slightly. “Ah, well, unfortunately your history in dealing with women makes me suspect. I really would love to be able to accept that on good faith, but I think in this case, seeing is believing.” Lucius swallowed thickly and felt his hands clenched tightly into fists. “I will come to your tent after the evening meal.”“Yes, my lord.”******The day passed with agonizing slowness for Ignis. She was anxious to hear if Lucius had been successful in dissuading Caesar from coming tonight and terrified if he hadn’t been. The prospect of having to sleep with Lucius with onlookers present made her skin crawl. What she felt toward him, although she refuse to name it, was precious and she didn’t want it sullied. Some things were, however, out of her control. As dusk started to fall, she heard her husband’s now familiar gait and scurried to the entrance, pulling back the canvas as he arrived. He kissed her forehead as he walked in and began to remove his armor.“What did Caesar say?”Lucius mimicked a high pitched tone, “Salve, maritus. How was your day? I missed you so.”Ignis sighed and smiled at his growing sense of humor. “Salve, maritus. How was your day?” He looked at her expectantly and she chuckled. “I missed you.”He grinned back at her as he sat down on the bed to remove his boots. “I missed you, too, carissima.” Ignis knelt in front of Lucius and stared at him, awaiting the answer to her question. He huffed in defeat. “He is still coming tonight, after he eats. I tried, Ignis. I’m sorry.”“You did what you could. I’m not surprised by his answer,” she replied, lowering her head and trying to keep her voice even. She didn’t want Lucius to know how much distress she was in. “There’s some gecko kebabs on the table.”“I don’t have much of an appetite right now, but thank you.” She could feel his eyes burning into her and she remained on the floor. “Ignis, come here.” She got to her feet as he was placing his ballistic fist on the trunk and then he opened his arms to her. She fell into them and a stray tear rolled down her cheek. “Everything will be alright,” he consoled, wiping it away with his thumb. She stayed curled up in his lap for some time, taking comfort from his warm presence.Without an announcement of warning, the flap of the tent opened and Caesar filed in, followed by Lanius and four praetorians. Lucius and Ignis slid off the edge of the bed and onto their knees immediately. The ruler and his legate said nothing as they pulled the dining chairs to the center of the room and sat.“Get up,” Caesar said finally. He was completely pompous as he sat there, staring at the couple as they rose.“My lord,” he paused briefly. “Is it necessary to have Legate Lanius and my men present for this?”Caesar’s irritation was apparent. “As my second in command, your marriage and subsequent heirs will fall under his dominion in the event of my death, so yes, Lanius will stay.” He turned his attention to the guards surrounding him, “Wait outside.” His attention returned to Lucius as he spoke again, “Ignis is looking rather…clothed. Remedy that, won’t you, Lucius?”Ignis found that her fear evaporated as she stepped in front of a dumbstruck Lucius, her inhibitions leaving alongside her dignity. She looked up and her husband suggestively and whispered, “If the old man wants a show, let’s give him a show.” Lucius’ eyes grew wide and he smiled in agreement as his hands went to her shoulders and began to untie her stolla and let it fall. She took a deep, calming breath and nodded to him. He grabbed her tunic and pulled it over her head in one smooth motion revealing her completely bare form underneath.Caesar whistled low behind her. Ignis saw Lucius’ jaw clench in response and shook her head inconspicuously to calm him. Instead she reached for his tunic and gave it a tug. He gripped the fabric and took it off swiftly, letting in land next to hers on the floor. She reached between them and placed her hand over him, stroking slowly. His eyes fluttered shut and he sighed heavily. With eyes still closed, he reached out and caressed her breast and twisted her nipple ever so slightly, drawing a soft whimper from her parted lips. He repeated the action, this time more aggressively and Ignis moaned loudly, feeling liquid heat pooling between her thighs. His other hand moved down and she leaned into his touch as he probed her roughly. Lucius pulled his hand away, seemingly satisfied with her state of arousal. “Go to the desk.” His voice was dark and commanding and Ignis found instead of frightening her, it intensified her desire of him. She complied silently as he followed her. Ignis turned to face him and he closed the space between them, grinding his throbbing cock against her navel. Lucius grabbed her by the waist and lifted her onto the desk, setting her down with a hard thump. He pushed her back on the desk then dragged her to the edge then penetrated her quickly with one smooth motion, hitting her cervix. She whimpered and tried to lift her head and shoulders, but he wrapped his strong fingers around her neck and forced her back down as he set a brutal pace and drove into her. She struggled against his grip, but was only met with increased pressure on her neck. She heard the tent flap open, but she couldn’t see who it was. Lucius glanced up at the intruder and scowled, but didn’t cease in his fierce incursion.“What the fuck do you want?” Caesar demanded. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something here?”“I - I’m sorry, Caesar,” Six’s voice sent a chill through Ignis and suddenly she wanted to cover herself, wanted to hide, but she was immobilized. “I was told to report back to you as soon as I returned from New Vegas.”“Fine, fine. Did you find who we need?” he asked the courier.“I did, my lord.”“Good.” Caesar paused and snickered. “I know, she’s quite the sight isn’t she? Not so arrogant now that she’s stuffed with dick, is she? Unfortunately, Lucius is a bit shy and doesn’t want a large audience. Get out.” Ignis heard the flutter of the canvas again as Six departed.Lucius withdrew from her quickly and she had to catch herself from falling off the desk. “Turn around,” he demanded. She obeyed and he bent her over the wooden surface and kicked her feet open. He filled her suddenly, once again, and reinstituted his furious tempo of pounding into her. Broken cries of pain and pleasure tumbled from her lips. “Quiet,” he ground out.Ignis looked over and noticed the rhythmic jerking motion of Caesar’s arm under his robes. Filthy degenerate. Lucius grabbed hold of her shoulder and pulled her upright, holding her in place against him with one hand on her hip and the other between her breasts before assaulting her mouth with a savage kiss. He pushed her back down until she was flush against the top of the desk. She watched the beads of sweat forming on Caesar’s forehead then met the dictator’s gaze and held it as her husband thrust quickly into her, biting her full lower lip lasciviously. Caesar’s arm moved faster and Ignis could tell he was holding his breath as he neared release. She moaned loudly, still maintaining eye contact and then winked and watched as Caesar gasped and his eyes rolled back. She chuckled to herself in victory.Lucius’ fingertips digging into her hips brought her thoughts back to her husband and she was sure she’d have bruises the next morning. His pace was becoming erratic and she knew his was close to finishing as well. Ignis arched her back to take him a little deeper and squeezed her walls around him. He pumped into her twice more and came with a feral snarl and collapsed over her, sweaty and short winded.No one moved or made a sound for several minutes. It was Caesar who finally broke the dead air. “Well, I think that is sufficient. What do you think, Lanius?” Lanius didn’t reply and stayed as mute as he had the entire time. Caesar stood, stretching backwards with a series of audible pops and wiped his once concealed hand on the front of his tunic leaving a very noticeable white stain. The two men then left and Lucius wasted no time in pulling out of Ignis and scooping her up into his arms, pressing soft kisses whenever he could reach as he carried her to their bed. He grabbed his discarded tunic and cleaned her up gently then laid down beside her, pulling the blankets over both of them.“Ignis, I…” She noted the cast of regret in his features.She hushed him and stroked his bearded jaw. “It’s okay. It’s over now. Hopefully he’ll leave us alone.”Lucius nodded in agreement, but he was still clearly bothered. “Did I hurt you? Was I too rough? I figured that was what you meant about putting on a show.”“Oh, I didn’t have anything in particular in mind, but,” she laughed and blushed, “I, uh… I kind of liked it, what you did.”“You did?” His mouth curved in a wry smile.Ignis leveled an exasperated look at him. “I’m not saying I want every time to be like that, but once in a while could be fun.” She squirmed her body ungracefully towards his until she was against him. Lucius smiled at her affectionately but remained still. She nudged him with her whole body until he wrapped his arms around her.“You couldn’t just ask?” he asked with a light chortle.“I shouldn’t have to,” she replied then kissed him sweetly and snuggled into him. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “The majority of the Praetorians are escorting Lanius back to the Strip today. As a result, I will need to remain with Caesar until they return. Will you bring my meals to me?” Lucius asked as sat on the bed, pulling on his boots.Ignis tapped her pursed lips. “No, I think I’ll let you starve.” He looked up at her with a cocked eyebrow and she gave him a warm smile in return. “Of course I will.” She grabbed an apple out of the basket on the table. “And see what I good wife I am? I already made you breakfast.” She tossed it to him and snatched it out of the air.He took a bite and winked at her, “Your talents in the kitchen are unsurpassed, marita.” Ignis chuckled lightly.“Flatterer.” Her expression grew somber. “Is it alright for me to go to Caesar’s tent? I won’t get in trouble?”“Yes, it will be fine. You won’t get in trouble,” he assured, then paused and cast her a meaningful glance, “as long as you behave yourself.” She huffed in response. “I’ll let the other guard know you’re coming.” “Will I have to see him?”“Who? Caesar?” Ignis nodded. “It is his tent.”Ignis rolled her eyes. “I know that. I just don’t want him to say anything about last night.” She wanted to remain confident, but the shame of the previous evening’s events had crept up on her. It was one thing to be brave and brazen in the moment, but the thought of having to be in the company of the depraved dictator afterwards left her feeling nauseated. I can’t believe I actually winked at him. She groaned inwardly.“I know what you mean, amica,” Lucius said sympathetically, “but if there is anything I know about that man, it is that he will say what he wants to say when he wants to say it.” He looked at her as he tied his laces. “Just keep holding your head up high, Ignis. You’re good at that.” She felt her cheeks burn at his words – it was the kindest thing anyone had ever said to her.Lucius stood and his hands moved across his body, patting, taking inventory of his weapons and armor, making sure he was in proper uniform. He approached her and cupped her face in his hands. “I need to go now.” Ignis simply nodded before raising herself on her toes and bringing her lips to his, tasting the sweetness of the apple of them. She hummed and leaned into him, pressing herself against his groin and he groaned, slowly pulling away from the kiss. “You are wicked, Ignis.”“Yep!” She kissed him again and then he released her. “I’ll see you later on.” ******“Lucius told me to come by.” Lucius could hear Ignis’ voice just outside and the indistinct reply of the guard. “Thank you.” The canvas was held open for her and she walked in, her posture straight and confident although her eyes betrayed her nervousness. Lucius caught her gaze and his heart warmed as she visibly relaxed when she saw him. Caesar, who sat on his throne, seemed tickled by her discomfort and uncertainty of what to do next. Lucius subtly motioned for Ignis to approach and then kneel before the ruler.“Ignis.” Caesar said flatly. Lucius tipped his head in encouragement to his wife.“Lord Caesar,” she replied softly before bowing her head.“What is it that you want?”“My maritus asked me to bring him his meals today.” Lucius smiled to himself. She was doing well despite her nerves.“Stand,” Caesar commanded, eyeing the basket on her arm. “Did you bring anything for your favorite emperor?”“There is plenty here for both of you, my lord,” Ignis replied as she got to her feet.A man in a white lab coat entered from the room behind Caesar’s throne. He was using his shirt to clean his eyeglasses and unaware that he was interrupting as he spoke, “The Auto-Doc should be repairable if the necessary parts are found.”Ignis’ surprise was unmistakable. “Doctor Gannon?”The tall, blond man put the thick rimmed glasses back on and studied her face a moment before recognition set in. “Mrs. Matthews?”“Not anymore. Now it’s Mrs…” she looked at Lucius, puzzled. “Do we have a last name?” Lucius shook his head.The doctor looked between the two. “You’re his wife?” Despite his best attempts, the tone of voice and countenance of shock conveyed his disgust and sympathy. Ignis nodded and cast an affectionate glance at Lucius, impervious to the doctor’s thinly veiled contempt.Caesar drew everyone’s attention as he asked loudly, “Are you going to fucking feed me or not?”Ignis resumed her attentiveness towards the seated man. “Yes, of course, Lord Caesar.”Caesar began to stand and the doctor reached out to assist him, but he swatted the younger man away. “I don’t need help standing, for fucks sake. Leave me alone.” Caesar walked into the room behind them, followed by Gannon. Lucius gave his wife a small, but reassuring smile as he ushered her into the Imperator’s private chamber with his hand on the small of her back.Ignis stood near the ruler’s seat at the head of the table and unpacked the basket of food she brought.“You’re not going to try to poison me, I hope,” Caesar commented as he carefully observed each item.“If I poisoned you, I’d be poisoning Lucius as well,” she replied coolly as she doled out portions. Caesar raised an eyebrow, noting her lack of denial. Careful, Ignis.“You certainly wouldn’t be the first wife to try to kill her husband.” He passed the bowl of mutfruit, agave, and banana yucca she had served him to Lucius and thrust his chin at it, silently ordering his guard to test its safeness which was done without pause.Ignis scoffed,“I wouldn’t do that.”“Really?” he cooed, “Pray tell why not?” His eyes never left Lucius as he studied him for any adverse reaction to the fruit.“Because I, I…” Ignis’ hazel eyes caught Lucius’ blue ones. He saw something there, something she refused to name, but was forced to acknowledge it in that moment.“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Lucius watched as Ignis’ spine went rigid and the color drained from her cheeks as looked back down at the table upon hearing his voice.“Ah, Six. There you are.” Caesar beamed at the courier, reclaiming his food from Lucius and spearing a forkful. “Ready to head out?”“I am, my lord. Just had a couple questions for Arcade regarding the supplies he needs.” Lucius watched Six carefully as he pulled the doctor into the far corner of the tent and spoke quietly. The young man struggled to pay attention to what the physician was telling him as he periodically glowered at Ignis. The praetorian couldn’t avoid the swell of pride he felt at remembering Six’s ashen face when he had walked in and seen Lucius buried deep in Ignis, claiming her. The Decanus’ demeanor and familiarity with Ignis had unsettled him before, but now there was something much darker in his eyes. Naturally, seeing the woman he had intended to purchase laid out and pinned under his rival had bruised his ego and Lucius dismissed it as petty jealousy. ********The stress that had existed between her and Lucius in the first week of their marriage had begun to evaporate now that Caesar was out of their hair. Ignis had been slightly concerned that the dictator would demand another ‘performance’, but he, along with most of his officers were primarily focused on the pressing matter of his declining health. Lucius had confided in her that they suspected Caesar had a brain tumor and that was the reason Doctor Gannon had been brought from New Vegas. Six had been dispatched to find surgical supplies or parts to repair the imperator’s Auto-Doc in the hope that there was still enough time to save his life.Although Ignis’ hatred and loathing of Caesar ran deep, her heart ached for Lucius as he watched his beloved leader slip away more and more each day, unable to do anything to help. He often stayed late into the night by Caesar’s side and even though Ignis was lonely, she kept herself busy. As the weeks passed, she settled into a comfortable routine. Her mornings were devoted to practicing defensive techniques and the Legion Assault. She was pleased with her progress, but sincerely hoped that she would never have an occasion to actually need these skills. Afterwards she would run errands around camp and make every effort to at least say hello to Siri and Octavia. Afternoons in the Mojave were blisteringly hot, and she’d retreat to the comfortable shade of their tent and tend to her homemaking tasks. Most of her evenings were spent alone and she took advantage of the opportunity to make something special for Lucius.“You’re back early this evening,” she said cheerfully as she put down her mending and rose from her seat on the bed to greet him with a soft kiss. He merely grunted in response as he discarded his armor and boots. “Want dinner?” Lucius didn’t reply, but sat down in his seat and Ignis served him. Ignis sat across from him even though she had already eaten. Lucius picked up his fork and pushed a piece of Cram across the plate. He sighed heavily and hung his head. “I don’t think he’s going to make it.”“I’m sorry,” she whispered, laying her hand on top of his. He cast her a disbelieving look. “No, I am. Really. I know what he means to you.”“Thank you,” he mumbled.“I, uh - I’m not sure this is the right time, but I wanted to give you something. Maybe it will help take your mind off of everything.” Ignis stood and crossed over to the trunk at the foot of their bed. She dug to the bottom, retrieving a small leather pouch and something larger, wrapped in cloth. Lucius slid his plate out of the way as she returned and placed the packages in front of him. He looked from the packages to her, and back to the packages again. “Well, what are you waiting for? Open it!” He reached for the bag. “Actually, no. Open this one first,” she said as she tapped the larger parcel with a fingertip.Lucius unwound the fraying cloth to reveal a chessboard. “Where did you get this?” he asked as he turned it over and admired the checkered wood that had been polished to a luminous sheen.“Dale Barton had it.”“But… how…”“Before you accuse me of prostitution again,” she began, causing him to chuckle, “I traded him some of that agave syrup for it.” Lucius’ expression was stern as he started to open his mouth to speak. “And before you accuse me of using camp rations for my own gain, I collected the agave myself. There are quite a few cacti scattered around camp that no one was doing anything with.” Her husband nodded with approval. “Okay, you can open the other one now.” Ignis excitedly bounced on the balls of her feet as he opened the bag and reached in.“Ignis, I…” he whispered as he withdrew an intricately carved chess piece. He squinted his eyes, taking a more discerning look. “Is this… Legate Lanius?”“Mmhmm,” she hummed happily. “Look at the rest.” Lucius pushed his chair back from the table and carefully shook the pieces into his lap. He picked up each one and placed it in its rightful position on the board in front of him as she told him what they each were. “The mongrels are the pawns, obviously, since there are so many. Then the Legate is the bishop, the centurions are the knights, and the Legion flags are rooks.”“And these?” Lucius asked hoarsely, as he held up the last two figures, after putting the opposing pair in their places. “The king and queen, who are they supposed to be?”Ignis paused and lowered her head as embarrassment colored her cheeks before whispering, “They’re us.” She heard him set the figurines down gently and stand. Then, using a knuckle, raised her chin to meet his gaze. He opened and closed his mouth several times as though he was trying to say something, but didn’t know what. After a few moments, he resigned himself to speechlessness and instead lowered his lips to hers, brushing gently, sweetly. Ignis grasped handfuls of his uniform and pulled his body closer. The past few weeks had left little time for intimacy and she ached with longing for him.Lucius set his hands on her shoulders and broke the kiss. “Not yet, amica.” Ignis whined and he laughed lightly. “How would you like to get out of here for a while?”“Yes, please!” She didn’t ask where they were going, she didn’t even care. She retrieved her sandals and put them on while Lucius collected a few things and shoved them into a duffle bag.“All set?” he asked, offering her his arm. She jumped to her feet, linked her arm in his, and rested her temple against his shoulder, hoping that would give him the answer. Lucius kissed the top of her head and they headed out.
10331894	A Magical Sleep	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "England (Hetalia), America (Hetalia)", "Fandom": "Hetalia: Axis Powers", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Fire_Bear", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-17T00:00:00", "words": "4,007", "Additional Tags": "Magic, Magic-Users, High School, Boarding School, Magic School, Roommates, Sharing a Bed, Teddy Bears, Nightmares, Night Terrors, (but the nightmares are not seen), (story from other character's POV), Emotional Hurt/Comfort", "Relationship": "America (Hetalia)/England (Hetalia)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Tumblr Requests", "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 Maskelyne School for Magic sprawled across the estate, a mixture of new and old, sleek and rickety. Faint noises reached the gate: bangs and yells and laughter. A ring of trees encircled the buildings, a path of African daisies, asters, chamomile and heather winding its way through their roots. Signs had been tied to trees and to the lampposts planted at regular intervals along the brick pathways in order to direct new students and visitors to their destinations. Half of the lampposts seemed to be powered by gas whilst the others were up to date, electric ones with the bulbs to reduce light pollution.Magic thrummed through the air and Arthur Kirkland, third year and newcomer to the school, felt elated to be there.He was also a little nervous. Because of his abundance of magical prowess, he had been allowed to skip all the generalised years and go straight to the advanced, specialised classes. Since he hadn’t wanted to miss out on all of school life, he had compromised with starting in third year so that he had four years of school instead of just two.But that meant that he would be a twelve year old amongst fourteen year olds.Would they hate him? Everyone at his primary school and those with him during his short time in his local high school had thought him odd. They’d made fun of his love of plants and stories about magic. When he’d scored highly in tests, they’d also made fun of him and Arthur had come to realise that a lot of the older students had resented that he was already on their level. Would it be the same here?Shaking his head at his thoughts, he tightened his grip on his rolling suitcase. He’d enchanted it to transport things stored in his wardrobe to the school so he wouldn’t need boxes; his parents had no excuse to walk him to his dormitory and embarrass him. Speaking of his dormitory, it was, according to the map by the gate, just beyond the bridge which connected a flashy, glass building with a wobbling wooden one. Having already said goodbye to his family at the car, he made his way through the crowds of returning students alone, trying to look as though he belonged. The returning students always arrived a week earlier than the first years in order to be settled in before the unstable and temperamental magical children turned up to wreak havoc on things – which meant Arthur was currently the only new face amongst them.As Arthur passed by, he looked around at them all, noting the groups of friends chattering to each other. They all seemed much older and taller than him. Their magical auras pulsed with their elation or their irritation. It was almost enough to overwhelm Arthur. But he continued on his way and forced his own aura to shrink in an effort to lessen their affect on him.Finally, he passed under the bridge and, when he blinked, realised the buildings had changed places. Instead of a tall, stone cathedral, a wide brick building sat before him. There were rows of windows neatly spaced and Arthur realised he must be in front of his dormitory. The third year dormitory. He fervently hoped that the fourteen year old he would be sharing with wouldn’t mind being forced to live with someone younger than him.Checking the information, Arthur made sure he found the right room. Although, considering the magic pulsing through the building, Arthur had a sneaking suspicion that it was easy due to the building rather than his own sense of direction. He hesitated in front of the door, staring at the number 4-7 neatly placed in the middle, just above his head. Then, before he could convince himself that there was a chance they’d let him have his own room, he knocked twice and tried the door. It opened easily.Inside, the room was a little bigger than he had expected, the window in the centre of the rearmost wall. On either side of the window was a bed with bedside tables directly underneath it, the left table holding a small lamp. Desks were shoved together against the opposite wall to the right of where he stood and a door to the en suite bathroom was to his left. On his right were two wardrobes and a chest of drawers, the bottom two drawers open due to the clothes within. The left bed had already been made, an American flag on the sheets. Above the bed were several posters of superheroes and film posters.And, sitting up from where he had been lying, was a boy a little older than Arthur.Or, rather, as Arthur looked at him, he realised he seemed a lot older. And a lot taller.The boy had blond hair which was a mess, a particular cowlick at the front of his head looking as though it was an antenna. A pair of glasses sat upon his head, sitting at an angle and all smudged. His blue eyes blinked at Arthur as he stepped into the room, seemingly confused. Then he glanced at the empty bed beside him, grinned and stood.He was a veritable giant.“Hiya!” the boy exclaimed, thrusting his hand out. “I’m Alfred F. Jones. You must be… Uh…?”“Arthur Kirkland,” he responded, trying not to feel intimidated by the fact that he only came up to the middle of Alfred’s chest. He released his tight grip on his suitcase and clasped the boy’s hand to shake.When Alfred squeezed his hand, he was sure he broke bones.With a cry, Arthur yanked his hand away, staring up at Alfred with wide eyes. The other boy grimaced. “Gosh, I’m so sorry,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I… I keep forgetting my strength…”“What?” Arthur asked, flexing his hand to be completely sure he still had full use of it.“Oh, um, I only came into my magic recently. It’s Personalis magic and I still don’t have full control of it at times.”“Recently?” Arthur asked, blinking at him.“Yeah, like, when I turned thirteen.”“So, last year?” Arthur said, not understanding why Alfred didn’t just say that.“Nah, two years ago,” Alfred explained, off-handedly. “I got held back a year.”“Oh.”For a moment, they stared at each other. Then Alfred gave a nervous laugh and turned back to his bed, flopping onto it and letting it bounce him around till he was lying on his back. Arthur awkwardly smiled at him and proceeded to his bed, dragging his suitcase with him. When he reached the bed, he picked it up and placed it upon it. Then he began to unpack, looking for the sheets he knew were in his wardrobe.“This might be kinda a dumb question,” Alfred suddenly piped up, “but how’d ya fit all that in there?”Blinking, Arthur looked over his many books and clothes and pens and notebooks that were spread across his bed. “Uh, magic,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I enchanted the suitcase to transport what was in my wardrobe here.”“Woah! Really?!” Alfred exclaimed. “That’s… That’s amazing! I bet no-one else in third year could do that!”“Oh. Um, I see,” said Arthur, grimacing. If he was that far ahead of them, he really hoped they wouldn’t hate him for it.“It’s really cool! What’s the basis of your magic, then?”Bewildered at the interest, Arthur shrugged. “Transportation magic comes under Locus magic but my first magic was Naturalis magic. I prefer Naturalis magic, actually.” Arthur stopped himself there before he revealed his biggest secret.Alfred looked so astonished that Arthur almost laughed. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted. “Wait, you can do two types already?! And you only just came into your magic?!”“No, I’ve had magic all my life. My parents are magicians, too.”“Huh?” Alfred frowned at him, scratching at his head and knocking his glasses until they were further skewed. “But… These are the third year dorms. You’re fourteen, right?”Ducking his head, Arthur shrugged a shoulder. “I… skipped some years. I’m twelve.”“You’re twelve?!!” Alfred shrieked.Pouting at his obvious disbelief, Arthur lifted his head to look at Alfred. “Sorry for not meeting your expectations.”“No, no, that’s- It’s just… You’re really cool!” Alfred looked so earnest: his eyes were wide as he leaned towards Arthur, his fists clenched as he tried to convey how sincere he was.At Alfred’s reaction, Arthur blushed and looked away. “O-Oh…”There was a short pause. “Aha, you’re really cute, too!”“Sh-Shut up!” Arthur exclaimed, spinning on his heel to continue unpacking. Silence descended between them and Arthur began to wish he had Personalis magic as well so he could will away his blush. Once he had gotten out everything he needed, he made his way to his designated wardrobe and began to hang up his clothes, specifically his school uniform. It was as he was doing this that Alfred decided to break the silence.“This is probably another dumb question but, uh, do you sleep in the dark?”Confused, Arthur looked over his shoulder at him. “Um. Yes?”“Oh. It’s just…” Alfred glanced at the lamp on his bedside table.“Ah. I don’t mind if you keep it on. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”“Yay! Thanks!” said Alfred, waving his hands in the air in celebration. Arthur bit his lip to keep from laughing and went back to his work.It only took a few days of inductions and introductions to classes for Arthur to realise that the reason for Alfred keeping his lamp on wasn’t because of a fear of the dark. There was something he was deeply afraid of and it wouldn’t let him sleep. Every night for a week, Arthur was woken by shouts of ‘No!’ and ‘Stop! Please!’. Alfred was never willing to talk about it.Ignoring that issue, Alfred was a rather nice guy. He had already been at the school for long enough that he was able to guide Arthur around. And he was kind enough not to make fun of Arthur for bringing teddies to comfort him. Not only that, but Alfred was always excited to talk about magic, eager to learn more despite having a horrible affinity for anything that wasn’t Personalis. As well as that, he liked a lot of the shows and films Arthur was fond of and was willing to sneakily show Arthur films deemed too old for him – though Arthur had refused to watch anything scary, considering how often Alfred had nightmares.Arthur considered Alfred a good friend already – and he was concerned.It wasn’t healthy for Alfred to be woken in the dead of night and spend the rest of it whimpering. His natural Personalis magic would help him stay awake but he needed some way of staying asleep or, at the very least, helping him get back to sleep. So, just before classes started properly, Arthur called his parents and, a few days later, he came back to their room to find a large teddy bear sitting on his bed. Alfred was on his own bed, glancing between Arthur and the teddy.“It… just appeared. Outta nowhere,” he said, sounding awed.“It’s from my mum,” Arthur said, grinning at him. “She’s really good at Locus magic.”“Oh. Uh…” Alfred’s expression became strained. “What’s it for?”“You,” answered Arthur, dropping his bag and hurrying over. “But it’s not ready yet. I just need to put a spell on it.”“Wha-? Me? Why?”“To help you with your nightmares. Now, shush.” Arthur clambered onto the bed and crawled over to it. He placed his hands on either side of the bear’s head and began to mutter the spell. Despite keeping his eyes on the massive toy, he could feel Alfred’s intense gaze as he watched him work; it made him a little nervous. Finally, he finished the spell and willed some of his Mentis magic into the teddy.Alfred must have felt the magic working because he waited until Arthur was finished before he spoke again. “So, uh, this might be a dumb question, but how is that going to help me sleep?”Rolling his eyes, Arthur hugged the teddy – and immediately felt all his worries slip away. Earlier that day, he had been uncertain whether to hide the extent of his abilities and decided against it. He had noted that a lot of people were muttering about him and he had grown worried that they resented him. Now, it didn’t seem like such a pressing matter and he knew the bear would work perfectly for Alfred.“If you hug this, you’ll be able to sleep,” Arthur told him, shuffling backwards so he could get off the bed.“That is such a-” Alfred began with a huff of laughter. He trailed off, though, when Arthur finally wriggled off his own bed, crossed the room and thrust the large bear at him. After a moment of stillness, Alfred sighed and took the teddy from him. “Like this?” he asked, his voice flat. Arthur waited until Alfred had squeezed the teddy close and looked at him in amazement to smirk down at him, hands on his hips.“The bear will calm your worries and comfort you. It should work well enough to stop your nightmares or help you sleep afterwards.” Arthur paused, tapping a finger against his chin as he stared up at the ceiling. “I think it should last around a month before the spell wears off and I’ll have to cast it again. Maybe, by that point, I’ll be better at my Mentis magic and I can make it last longer.”“You’re amazing,” Alfred breathed, his eyes wide.Arthur grinned at him. “Of course.”Over the next few weeks, Arthur learnt more about Alfred. His parents weren’t magicians and had moved their family from America to England when he was just thirteen. The Master Magicians believed that he had come into his magic then because of the upheaval. Alfred claimed it was because he wished really hard on his birthday cake to gain superpowers.Though he had been delighted to discover his new powers, it was not without drawbacks, such as ruining their lovely new house. Not only that but Personalis magic came with its own risks and usually wasn’t taught until fourth year. Alfred was getting his own special classes: they seemed to haunt him afterwards and he used the bear before they even went to sleep on those days.Despite these worrying signs, Alfred loved magic, though he seemed to think of it as superpowers and often tried to apply science to them. He could often be found in the Newer Library where he would be reading the new science books. As such, he seemed to have a lot of difficulty mastering the simpler spells.He loved puppies and kittens and had to have one of each taken from him one night when he went exploring and found some on the edges of the estate. When he discovered the birds of prey which were kept in the hidden aviary, he had tried to befriend the largest bird there and ended up with bandages over his hands. His favourite ice cream was definitely Cookie Dough and he preferred Cadbury’s chocolate over any other. Though his laugh was loud, it was pleasant and Arthur always found himself smiling when he heard it.But, even with all these things Arthur now knew, he still didn’t know why he had nightmares or what they were about. The teddy bear worked, thankfully, and Alfred was able to get more sleep thanks to it. Arthur was proud of himself – but he was also worried about his friend.Something Arthur also noticed were Alfred’s questions. They could range from difficult to explain (“How does Mentis magic even work? I mean, how do you tweak someone’s brain to make them feel good or whatever?”) to downright stupid (“Did you just make that float?!”). After a couple of weeks, Arthur was more than used to it. So, that night, he was ready for anything.“Can I ask a dumb question?” Alfred asked, leaning against the large teddy.“Better than anyone I know,” Arthur answered as he scribbled in the last answer on the worksheet he was working on. He ignored Alfred’s protest before setting his pen down and turning so he could peer at Alfred over the back of his chair. “What’s wrong now?”Alfred grumbled to himself for a moment, just to let Arthur know that he was protesting against his treatment. “Well, is it just me or is this teddy not working much any more?”Arthur blinked at him for a moment. Then he hopped off his chair and made his way over. “Give it here,” he said, holding out his arms for it. Alfred did as he was told and Arthur hugged it, trying not to topple over from the weight of it. He squeezed it tight and waited for a feeling of being enveloped in a comforting hug. None came, just a slight feeling of happiness at having something to hug. He scrunched his nose up and sighed. “The spell’s worn off.”“Can ya put it on it again?”“Of course,” Arthur answered, setting it down on his bed.“You’re the best, Artie! Man, I’m not sure what I’d do without you. You gotta let me do something nice for ya sometime so I don’t feel so bad! Anything you need!” Alfred crossed his heart as if that would seal the deal.Snorting, Arthur rolled his eyes and clambered onto his bed to do the spell. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”The power went out in the middle of the night. Arthur was unaware of that until he woke to Alfred’s usual cries. Gasping, his eyes flew open and he looked around, trying to force his sluggish brain to work out where he was. All he could see, however, was darkness. Alfred’s cries suddenly broke off and changed to whimpers. Arthur listened, waiting to hear if he would relax. There was some shuffling noises, slapping noises and then a sharp intake of breath.“Alfred?” Arthur mumbled. “Are you okay?”“A-Artie?” There was a brief silence. “Can… Can I ask a dumb question?”“Better than anyone I know,” Arthur answered, rubbing at his eyes.That got a huff of laughter from Alfred. “Yeah. Well. Can you see right now?”“No. Hang on.” Arthur reluctantly pulled his hand from under the covers and felt around for his phone. He pressed the button. Nothing happened and he grimaced; he’d forgotten to charge it over the last few days and had finally plugged it in before they turned the lights off. Clearly, there was no power whatsoever. “Power cut,” he informed Alfred. “Either someone’s been messing with powerful magic or it’s just a regular power cut.”“Ah.” Another silence fell but, this time, it was interrupted by shuffling and slapping and even a thud followed by Alfred’s muttered curses. “I.. I…” he murmured, sounding a little frantic. His breathing was getting heavier, too, and Arthur realised he was panicking.“What’s wrong? I thought I put that spell-”“I’ve dropped it. I can’t find it,” Alfred said, his movements becoming even more panicked if the bangs and squeaking were any indication. “A-Art-”“Take a breath, Al,” Arthur told him, throwing his covers back and forcing himself to stand up. “I’ll find it for you.” He crossed the room quickly, slowing when he thought he was close to Alfred’s bed. Then he reached out and felt around, trying to figure out exactly where he was.“It’s too dark…” Alfred mumbled, his voice shaking a little. “This is…”“Al,” said Arthur, trying to stop his train of thought. “It’s fine. Nothing’s happening. Everything’s fine. You’re safe.”“That’s not-”At the same instant as Arthur, still waving his hands around, made contact with something, Alfred cut himself off and made a noise somewhere between a shriek and a whimper. Sighing, Arthur rolled his eyes. “Stop panicking. It’s only me.”“You…?”“Yes. Let me just find-” Before Arthur could finish, something gripped his wrist and he was suddenly pulled forward. He gave a cry as he flew forward until he was sprawled across Alfred. “What are you doing?!” he exclaimed, his heart beating wildly in his chest.“Don’t leave me…”Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Arthur rolled off Alfred so that he was squished between the older boy and the wall. The shock of being pulled off his feet had cleared his head enough for him to remember his magic; he raised his hand so his palm faced the ceiling and murmured a spell. A bright light appeared above them and Arthur hissed as he squeezed his eyes shut. Beside him, Alfred yelped and moved his arms, probably blocking the light out with his hands. Hastily, Arthur flicked his wrist and the light seemed to shrink until it was at the level of Alfred’s lamp.For a few moments, both of them lay there, breathing heavily and letting their eyes adjust. Finally, Arthur sat up and looked around, spotting the bear at the end of the bed. “Aha,” he said. “I’ve found your teddy bear-”Suddenly, arms wrapped around him and pulled him down. Alfred’s grip on him was tight enough to make Arthur think he wouldn’t let him go. “Thank you,” Alfred murmured into Arthur’s hair.“You’re welcome. Now, let me go.”“Mm. Can I ask a dumb question?”“Again?”“Will you stay with me?”“What, tonight?” Arthur asked, trying to pull away so he could frown at Alfred. It only made Alfred pull him closer. For a second, Arthur tensed. Then he relaxed, tucking his head down to rest it on Alfred’s shoulder. “Are you ever going to tell me what gets you so scared at night?”“Nope,” Alfred answered.They fell silent for a moment. A little while later, Arthur’s tired brain realised that Alfred wasn’t entirely still. He was trembling slightly. Evidently, he was still scared but trying not to disturb Arthur. Wordlessly, Arthur forcibly wriggled his way out of his grip so that he could kneel beside him. Alfred blinked up at him, jaw clenched and eyes shimmering in the dim light.“Ar-” Alfred began.“Hush,” Arthur interrupted him. Then, gently, he cupped Alfred’s face and began to murmur a similar spell to the one he had cast on the bear. Alfred’s eyes widened slightly as he watched him work: Arthur could feel his own cheeks heat up as he stared down at Alfred. Finally, he finished and shuffled around to go back to his original position. As soon as Alfred’s arms slid around him and squeezed him against Alfred’s side, he felt Alfred’s body relax considerably. Alfred even sighed in relief, burying his face into Arthur’s hair.“Man, you really are amazing, Artie.”“Shut up,” Arthur grunted. He yawned, not bothering to try to stifle it. “Go to sleep.”“Thanks,” Alfred said, obviously not paying attention. “Hey, maybe we should do this every time, instead of the bear. It’s kinda big, y'know? Takes up half the bed and I always kick it off and lose it.”Arthur sighed. “When I said 'whatever helps you sleep at night’, I didn’t mean this. I mean, I really didn’t mean this. We’re not sharing a bed, Al. Go to sleep.”“Right. Yeah. Sorry…” There was a pause wherein Arthur figured Alfred must have dropped off. He was bitterly disappointed when Alfred began to speak again. “I’ll… I’ll tell you about them. Maybe. But not right now. You don’t need to know.”Arthur frowned. He tried to summon the energy to argue but, instead, all he could do was huff and mumble, “Wait till morning to talk.”“Okay. Night, Artie.”“Mm.” Arthur shifted a little, getting comfortable. Soon, both he and Alfred were asleep, Arthur curled around Alfred and enveloped in his arms.
10385505	Future Imperfect	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay (Star Trek), Admiral Janeway, Seven of Nine, B'Elanna Torres, Lieutenant Mike Ayala", "Fandom": "Star Trek: Voyager", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Bratling", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-20T00:00:00", "words": "8,724", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Chakotay/Seven, Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "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 }	Future Imperfect by Bratling~~~~ "I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge. That myth is more potent than history. That dreams are more powerful than facts. That hope always triumphs over experience. That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death. " ----Robert Fulghum ~~~~Chakotay finished the report he was working on and sat back with a sigh. Chances were the attempt to get home wouldn't work, just like the others had failed. But this time, they had two Kathryn Janeways on their side. He'd learned long ago that betting against her was a losing proposition. Still, he was a lucky man; Seven wanted him, and he was fairly sure that if they knew, at least half the ship would envy him. He was also pretty sure it wouldn't last, but it was fascinating to see her grow and develop into a human being. The door chime interrupted his thoughts. "Come in," he called as he finally set the PADD down. Admiral Janeway walked in. "I have something for you," she said quietly. Automatically, he held out his hand and she placed a data chip in it, closing his hand around it. "What is this?" "When our plan succeeds, I want you to grant an old woman a last request and listen to it." she drew in a deep breath. "Hell, listen to it if something goes wrong! If I'm right about what he put on it, listen to it especially if something goes wrong tomorrow." He opened his hand and stared at the chip. "He?" "My Chakotay," she answered softly, "we planned this together, or at least we started to; he died right after we got home." "I don't know if I should..." he began. "Screw the Temporal Prime Directive. Your little dalliance with Seven cost us dearly! Just listen to what he sent you, and think of it as a letter from yourself!" His head shot up as she mentioned Seven. "I was there, remember?" she snapped. "I am who your Kathryn will become without you! Listen to what your future self has to tell you, get your head out of your ass and do something when you're no longer in the same chain of command!" Without another word, she turned and marched out. Shocked, Chakotay simply stared at the chip in his hand for a few minutes. Part of him wanted to run after her and demand she tell him if Kathryn actually loved him, but with effort, he stopped himself. Carefully he clasped his hand around it, stood and crossed into his bedroom to place it in a carved wooden box on his bureau. It would keep until after their attempt to get home. He simply couldn't afford to be distracted when the whole crew was counting on the command team to be on top of their game. After the attempt, he would listen to it. It was only a day after all. Delaying twenty-four hours wouldn't make that much of a difference... he hoped. ~~~~Chakotay stared at the screen in front of him as he waited for his replacement. 'Mister Chakotay,' it sounded so... impersonal. She was distancing herself from the crew--from him. He wondered if the Admiral had told her what Kathryn had refused to tell him. He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. He heard the lift hiss open and Baytart stepped out. He stood. "Take the conn, Ensign," he said quietly. "I'll be in the ready room." Tuvok gave him a brief nod as he prepared to enter the spider queen's lair. Quickly, he hit the chime. "Enter." He didn't really even listen to the command. Instead, he simply went inside. Kathryn was sitting at her desk staring sightlessly at the monitor. "Kathryn," his soft voice got her attention. There was something unreadable in her eyes. "I can't believe it," she said quietly. "I've been working towards this for six months, and Hayes just confirmed it. The outstanding warrants against the Maquis have been dismissed and the charges dropped. They've ratified field commissions--including Tom's-- and are extending the offer for more training and for all of our people to stay 'Fleet." He studied her face. "It's not all good news, is it?" She shook her head. "They're planning on court martialing the Equinox survivors. Word is that they can't allow them to get away with just a slap on the wrist. They're going to make an example of them, I think." He reached out for her hand, and was unsurprised when she jerked back. He'd been withdrawing from her for a while now, and there was a lot of work to do to rebuild their friendship. "Realistically, we knew there was probably a jail sentence waiting for them," he said neutrally. "I just hoped---" "I know you, Kathryn, and you did your best. There's something else, isn't there?" She sighed and swung her chair around so she could look at the stars. "There have been some scandals lately," she admitted. "They've tightened the fraternization policies. If we'd changed the... parameters of our relationship the way both of us have wanted to at one time or another, we'd be facing prosecution right now." He hesitated, and the words were dragged from him almost against his will. "Do you still want to change our... parameters?" She gave him a crooked smile. "Ask me again when we're out of the same chain of command and I'll have an answer for you." It took him a few minutes to process what she'd said. After all, he'd spent most of his life in Starfleet and he knew the regs just as well as she did. "It's going to be a witch hunt, isn't it?" he asked. Her smile turned grim. "It already is. They're actively looking for officers who have overstepped the bounds. I've got Harry on deleting any mention of the betting pools and erasing any mention of us in a romantic sense from the database. If we'd gone any further, I'd be going to jail right along with the Equinox survivors. Even now it's still a possibility." "If what we've been led to believe is true, they need you; they need us. I don't think there's anything to worry about, Kathryn." He reached for her hand again and this time she didn't pull away. "I hope so, Chakotay," her expression was sober, but hope had returned to her face. "I really hope so." "I'll arrange for the Equinox survivors to meet you here, and I'll call a meeting of my former crew." He squeezed her hand, dropped it, and then came to attention. "Dismissed," she said, with the barest hint of a smile. He nodded, once, and left the room. The next few days would be busy with all the post-mission paperwork. And with their having been gone for seven years, it would be much more onerous than usual. And he still had to find time to look at that data chip. ~~~~ Chakotay dropped into a chair in his quarters and buried his face in his hands. The meeting with the former Maquis had gone well, and he'd spent the rest of the day getting things in order for their arrival at McKinley Station. He and Kathryn had even managed to get through a chunk of crew evaluations and recommendations. He'd had to cancel on Seven because there was just so much to accomplish on the short trip home. To say she'd been displeased was an understatement; she'd been livid. Her reaction to something so small was making him rethink his being involved with her. Truthfully, they didn't have much in common and conversation between the two of them wasn't exactly scintillating. It wasn't just the age gap, it was the experience gap. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. It was something to think about, anyway, and wasn't like they had much of a relationship. Their "relationship" consisted of a few dates and a grand total of two kisses. Seven had instigated everything, and he just couldn't see it ever getting serious. They wanted different things; they were just too different themselves. However, after so many years of what he had believed to be unrequited love, it had been pleasant to be pursued. They were home now and that very fact opened a new range of possibilities. And damned if he didn't want to explore them... with Kathryn, not Seven. Kathryn had all but come out and promised him a future together. Breaking up with Seven was now at the top of his to-do list. He had one last task before he could turn in... go through the files on the data chip. He stood and crossed the room to the replicator. He needed caffeine and lots of it to get through the next little while. "Coffee, black, hot." He took the beverage and put it on his desk before retrieving the data chip from his bedroom. He returned to his desk, and inserted the chip.An image of himself appeared on the screen. He didn't look good. His skin was sallow, his eyes sunken, and he was far, far too thin. "Hello, Chakotay. If you're getting this, Kathryn succeeded and hopefully convinced her younger self to take the Borg shortcut home. We started planning once it became apparent that the doctors could do nothing for me. We've been home for less than a month, and I'm dying," he stopped to cough and blood stained his mouth. "This message," he said in a raspy voice, "will hopefully stop you from making the biggest mistake we ever made; one that poisoned everything good in our life for years to come. Ignore the damn Temporal Prime Directive, take the information I'm giving you and make better damn choices." He drew in a deep, wheezing breath, "I know you're thinking that with the current crackdown on fraternization, what I just said makes no sense. They made her work for it, but Kathryn convinced them we'd need replacement crew and the only way to do that was for people to start getting married." The older version of himself had another coughing fit, this time into a large white handkerchief. "Kathryn never stopped loving us, you know. It was my guilt and shame that kept us apart in later years. Six months from your time, she successfully convinced Starfleet Command to rewrite and damn near abolish the fraternization regs on Voyager, but by then it was too late. Don't miss your chance, Chakotay. Don't let it be too late, again." The image of the older, sick him winked out and he stopped the playback. What in hell happened that kept him apart from Kathryn? Guilt? Shame? Even now a change in policy would have him beating down her door. He loved her, damn it! He had for years! Hell, he was fairly sure he'd started falling for her the first day on the bridge when she'd stopped him from killing Tom Paris. He drew in a deep breath, and restarted the playback. If he'd had any doubts if it had really been him, all of them fell away when the first recording was a log he'd made only weeks before. As he listened, he fell into a light trance, allowing himself to see what had happened from his own perspective. He lived the anguish his other self felt when after a few nights together, Seven had claimed to be pregnant, so he had married her. Anguish because it wasn't Seven he wanted to be marrying at all, and then further anguish when he found out she'd been lying to him--that pregnancy for her was an impossibility because of irreparable damage from being assimilated at such a young age. It seemed that the Borg found natural reproductive cycles to be irrelevant and took steps to neutralize what they saw as a problem. He listened to a catalog of fights and disagreements, make up sex where Seven was barely a participant, and then, as if her tricking him weren't bad enough, he found out something even worse. ~~~~ It took Chakotay six months after Kathryn had moved out of her quarters to realize she was no longer living there. He'd been caught up in his new marriage to Seven of Nine, desperately trying to make it work, and to be honest, things with Kathryn hadn't been the same since he'd told her about the relationship. She'd withdrawn and insisted on keeping things purely professional. The working dinners had stopped and they never spent off-duty time together anymore. Recently, though, he'd started noticing how... triumphant Seven seemed whenever Kathryn left the room they happened to be in. But even those glimpses were rare. Usually, he only saw her on the bridge or for conferences in her ready room, which even for personnel issues, were becoming more and more infrequent. It was almost as if she was avoiding him. With Tuvok's illness, he was worried about her. She'd always had a tendency to isolate herself, and with her no longer confiding in him and Tuvok locked in his quarters, he feared it might soon be like it was in the void years before. Even more than that, he... missed her. Seven was not a good conversationalist, and they seemed to spend more time fighting than anything else. He was coming to the conclusion that marrying her had been a huge mistake. He'd only done it because she'd sworn she was pregnant and he would not allow a child of his to grow up without a father. He needed his friend at the time, and he needed her now. Badly. And it was with that in mind that he set off to find out where she was. He could have asked the computer, but it couldn't tell him where she was now living. She had beta shift so it was a good time to look. He knew she wouldn't be sleeping in the ready room because it was too public. It was available for whoever was in command at the time. Her private dining room had been turned into the galley the first week in the Delta Quadrant. Her seldom-used private office was a slight possibility, but it was in a heavily trafficked area, and she wouldn't want the crew to know that something was amiss. She would see taking over unused crew quarters as taking something from the crew. He sighed heavily and started towards her private office. His override code would probably still work, and he might find a few clues. If there were no signs of habitation, he'd need to check her quarters to see if there were any hint of where she'd gone. He needed to know why and where she was living. He needed his friend back. He walked briskly to her office and keyed in his code. Slipping inside, he looked around. Somehow, it had an air of disuse about it. It wasn't dusty or dirty by any means; it just looked desolate. He knew she didn't spend much time there, but it looked as if she hadn't spent any. There were virtually no personal touches to it; the whole room was practically Starfleet-issued drab gray. He carefully checked the storage areas for any clue as to where she was staying, but it didn't get him anywhere. There was nothing to say where she was living at all. He drew in a deep breath. Kathryn had been avoiding him for months, so outright asking her was out. Even though she was no longer living in her quarters, it felt like an invasion of privacy to search them, but he felt like he he was running out of options. It wasn't as if he could follow her and while he was a great tracker, people simply didn't leave a trail on the way to their quarters on a starship. With a heavy heart and a pressing sense of guilt, he left the office and headed towards the captain's unoccupied quarters. Quietly, he let himself in and started looking. Like her private office, they, too, had an air of disuse. Some of her books were gone as well as a few of her personal knicknacks. Other than that, nothing was out of place in her living area. The desk had been cleared, but it was as orderly as ever. Quickly he strode to the bedroom and, after a moment of hesitation, entered. The closet and drawers were empty and a quick peek into the head confirmed her toiletries were also gone. The only place he had yet to look into was the nightstand. He opened the drawer and found an open book that was smeared with ink and what looked like tear stains. He drew in a deep breath and started to read. "I can't deal with this anymore. When Chakotay moved on, I figured it was the universe dumping on me again. I've never been allowed personal happiness before, so why should I be allowed to have it now? I'm just glad I wasn't there to watch when the announcement was made that Starfleet Command finally allowed the fraternization regs to be suspended. The only condition was there would be no coercion allowed. I worked hard for that. It took me months of fighting for it for them to agree. I was going to tell him on shore leave before I announced it to the crew... but he took shore leave with Seven. A few months after that (and some sleepless nights for me because I can hear what they're doing next door) they asked me to marry them. I've had enough of listening to them fighting and having sex. I will admit he was discreet until after I officially knew. I should have known before--he'd withdrawn from me. Too many rain checks on meals we used to share and things we used to do together. And Seven, well, I thinks she knows how sound carries through the bulkhead. The smirk on her face the first time they did it in his quarters when she looked at me was proof enough. Depression is my ever present companion these days. As long as I'm busy, I'm okay. But sleep is illusive because of the noise from next door, and every time I hear them, it rubs salt in wounds that have not healed. "By my own choice, the working dinners stopped before his marriage. I wanted to give him space to make his relationship work. I love him enough for that. I love her enough for that. I still wonder--of all the women on the ship, why Seven? Why the girl I practically adopted as my own daughter? The only one I will ever have? My only future is unending, crushing responsibility. Even if we found a shortcut home tomorrow, the only man I can see as my children's father is taken and I will never compromise my ethics by being the other woman, even if he were willing. I doubt he is. He has made no objections to the distance between us, and our professional relationship is hanging on by a thread. By the time we get home, my mother will probably be gone. Let's face it, Voyager is all I have. I'm well on my way to being what I always feared--one whose entire life is Starfleet, with nobody to love and nobody to love them. What is, is, and I have to learn to live with it. "I'm just so damned tired. I need a change. I need to not hear them on off hours -- to not have it rubbed into my face. Three weeks ago, I started moving my things to my yacht a little at a time. It has everything I need. Well, there isn't a bathtub, but I can live without it in exchange for some peace. It has a sonic shower in the head, a replicator, computer access, life support and a bed. What else do I truly need? I've lived with less, after all. It's more cramped than these quarters, but I'll make do. As long as I show up for duty shifts on time, I'm confident that no one will even notice I've moved. "Chakotay used to be the only one who cared about Kathryn, anyway, and well, he doesn't anymore. By my reckoning, he stopped caring a few months after Quarra. It was sudden, too. One day, he's my best friend and the love of my life and I couldn't imagine a day without him. The next day, he was just... gone. If it were only the loneliness, I could deal with it. But it isn't. It's the dragging weight of endless responsibility. It's the knowledge that people only care for what I can give them. "Perhaps my yacht--the only truly private place I have left--will give me the space I need to find a measure of peace." The entry ended with a large tearstain. Chakotay swallowed, hard against the large lump in his throat. He'd been a terrible friend. If she'd felt like this six months ago, how did she feel now after six more months of isolation? Quietly, he put the journal back where it came from. At least he knew where to find her now. It wasn't just he'd been a bad friend; he'd been a terrible first officer as well. He hadn't been doing half the things he used to do and she'd just picked up the slack from him without a word of complaint. It didn't help that Tuvok had been diagnosed with a degenerative disorder that had worsened faster than expected, and he was now confined to quarters for his own protection. She'd been truly alone and it was partially his fault. He'd screwed up, and now it was up to him to come up with a plan or three of how to fix things between himself and his best friend. ~~~~ Using every bit of skill he had acquired over his lifetime, Chakotay walked, soft footed to the door, glancing back into the bedroom, which was lit only by the dim lights of Seven's alcove. Soundlessly, he left the room and made his way to the airlock that led to the Captain's yacht. He got a few strange looks for how he was dressed since he wasn't in uniform, but it was late enough into the ship's "night" that the corridors were sparsely populated. Quickly he tapped her access code into the door panel and slipped inside. There wasn't much to it. Two bunks with privacy curtains took up the back wall, and he could see a couple of doors nearby with a replicator unit built into the bulkhead on the other side. A tiny table was folded out with the attached stool pushed under it. Consoles took up the front of the space, and neatly tucked in various places were the missing personal effects from Kathryn's quarters. He didn't think he'd ever been in there--it had been deemed too small to use as a shuttle and just not practical to use in the Delta Quadrant. The engines had been stripped for parts years earlier but it had otherwise been left alone. Noise came from one of the doors and Kathryn walked out, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe. She jumped, startled at his appearance. "Chakotay, I-- wasn't expecting company." Without thinking, Chakotay automatically moved to parade rest. "I know you weren't, Kathryn," uttering her name with gentle emphasis. She raised an eyebrow, opened the second door, and rummaged inside. "That's a name I haven't heard in at least a year," she said neutrally. "Because outside of work, we haven't been talking," he said bluntly. "Why is that?" She emerged from what must be a closet with a soft-looking bundle. "You know why," she said simply as she crossed the tiny room and dropped the bundle on the bed. "Turn around, please." When he didn't move, she raised an eyebrow. "Do I have to make it an order, Chakotay?" He sighed and turned around. "I've seen you in less before," he remarked. "That was a long time ago." The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of fabric. "I'm decent. You can turn around now, and then you can leave before you learn things you'd rather not know." He turned around to find her laying out a large piece of plastic. "What do you mean?" he demanded. She was dressed in a loose pair of shorts and a loose tank top. Both were at least two sizes too big and had rust-colored stains on them. He wasn't sure he wanted to know... but he had to. "At first, I was trying to give you and Seven space... and after that I no longer had a choice." She sat down on the plastic. "You'd better leave, Chakotay. What happens next isn't pretty." "Kathryn, you have to tell me what this is about," he demanded again. "I admit it; I've been a bad friend. What do you mean?" She laughed bitterly. "Stay a few more minutes and you'll find out. The time is almost up anyway." She stood, and hurried back to the closet, emerging seconds later with small devices in her hands. She sat back down on the plastic, arranging them next to her. "They're programmed to wait until I'm off duty. Even on duty, five minutes is the most time I'm allowed." "Five minutes? Kathryn, what the hell are you talking about?" He was both puzzled and confused and he wasn't sure he wanted to know why she was sitting on plastic, what the stains were on her clothing, or what the devices next to her were. Kathryn just seemed... resigned, almost fatalistic. "Telling is supposed to make it worse," she said quietly. "Telling will also lead to you being hurt. I prefer you and your personality to remain how you are." She gasped and started breathing deeply as her right leg suddenly moved into an unnatural angle. Implants began to emerge from her skin, splattering blood around her. As soon as they emerged, they disappeared, leaving bleeding wounds behind. She bit her lip, and he could see a bit of blood coming from it. Horrified, he started to slap his commbadge to call for help. "Won't do any good," she said as she shakily reached for a device. She turned it on, and he finally recognized it as a deep tissue regenerator. She clumsily ran it over the worst wounds, holding it in place until only the last few layers remained before switching to a regular regenerator and using it to finish the job. "Calling for help?" He leaned down to help her, but she pushed his hands away. "I don't want to find out what happens if you touch me," she snapped as she pulled her leg into alignment and began running an osteoregenerator over it. "Seven did this," he murmured. "And threatened you with me if you told on her." Kathryn inclined her head and kept working on her own leg. "The doctor won't notice any of this, and I'm locked out of his program with Borg encryption codes. There's a reason why I don't leave the ship anymore." She put down the osteoregenerator, then picked up the regenerator and healed her lip. "We're lucky we've been in peaceful space the past six months," she said softly. "So that's how long this has been going on?" He asked, bile risking in his throat. He'd already been thinking that getting involved with Seven had been a mistake, but this absolutely proved it. Damnit, she'd probably been torturing Kathryn for months and none of them had noticed! Kathryn grabbed a medical tricorder and ran it over her leg. "She came to me after you made your relationship public and warned me off." She shook her head. "We hadn't spent time together outside of work for months, so I shrugged it off. " She drew in a shaky breath. "Remember when the Maetrons attacked right after you got married?" He nodded silently. "You were injured." he murmured. "The first incident was after that. She came to my quarters that night to explain the rules." Pain laced her voice as she finished scanning. "Would you please get me an analgesic out of the head?" He ducked through the door and emerged with a few hyposprays a few seconds later. "I don't know which one.." She nodded towards the plastic. "Just lay them down." He obeyed and she picked one up and injected herself. "Are these the missing drugs the doctor has been complaining about?" he asked. "An analgesic and an antidepressant, yes," she said softly. "I went with what he's given me in the past. I went to him after it happened the first time and not only could he find absolutely nothing wrong, but I was punished afterwards for telling. Seven said she fixed it so that he'll never find any evidence. If I come in alone, he won't even notice the injuries." "And then she locked you out?" He tried to keep his voice neutral as anger started to set in. He wanted to hit someone. Preferably a Borg someone. Perhaps wrap his hands around her pretty little neck and squeeze. "I tried to fix it," she said softly. "I couldn't get into his program. She didn't lie about that." "We'll fix this, Kathryn." He promised. "I'm going to make sure this stops." She looked up at him, pain in her blue eyes. "Be careful, Chakotay; make sure she hasn't injected you as well. I should have listened to you to start with; she's a scorpion in disguise." "I will," he promised before he turned to head to the door. "And Kathryn? Her decisions aren't your responsibility. She's not Borg any longer and you can't control her choices anymore than I controlled Suder's or Seska's." Quickly he left and headed towards Sickbay. He couldn't recall Seven injecting him with anything, but he had to find out. He'd slept both with her and in her presence and it was possible she'd dosed him with nanoprobes without his knowledge. Somehow, they'd fix this. He just didn't know how. ~~~~Chakotay's first instinct was to strangle Seven. Instead, he'd gotten a checkup from the EMH, and then called Harry off the bridge to run a full diagnostic of the program. In succinct terms, he'd ordered him to check for tampering aimed at the Captain and gave him permission to enlist Tom's and B'Elanna's help should he need it. It occurred to him that Seven could have also programmed the Doc to ignore nanoprobes, so he was planning on getting checked again after his programming was restored. He knew it was slightly paranoid, but with what Seven had been getting away with, he felt a little paranoia was justified. Quickly, Chakotay hurried to his office and sat down in front of his terminal. He fired off messages to Ayala, who had replaced Tuvok as Chief of Security, and B'Elanna. Both contained some keywords from their Maquis days that Seven wasn't aware of. It was part of a code and read correctly, it was practically a shout of, "Red alert, battle stations". It was late, and they still had approximately half of Gamma shift left. The particular code he had entered would wake both Ayala and B'Elanna, so he settled in to wait. Fifteen minutes later, a bleary-eyed B'Elanna stumbled in, followed by Ayala. "We have a problem," he said without further preamble. "What is it, Chakotay?" B'Elanna asked, stifling a yawn. Ayala didn't say anything; he just came to attention in front of the desk. "Have either of you noticed a change in the Captain in the last six months?" Chakotay asked. "She's been isolating herself more," Ayala said quietly. "We all figured it was because you got involved with Seven." "It got worse after you married her," B'Elanna said with a half-hearted glare. "We barely see her off-duty anymore. I mean, she still comes by to spend time with Miral, which you haven't been doing, but otherwise it's as if she's faded into the bulkheads." Chakotay stood and began to pace restlessly. "There's a reason for that, and it isn't good. Seven injected her with nanoprobes about six months back with the express purpose of torturing the Captain if she spent any time in my presence alone. I'd divorce Seven now if it didn't tip our hand that we know. Seven reprogrammed the doctor to not notice the injuries her nanoprobes cause to the Captain or the nanoprobes themselves, so she's had to self-treat her injuries. If she walks in to Sickbay alone, he never sees anything wrong with her." He paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have Harry fixing the doctor's programming now, and I'll get him to schedule a bi-annual physical for everyone starting this week. If she could do this to the Captain, chances are she didn't stop there. " Horror dawned on B'Elanna's face. "Reprogramming the doctor alone could have gotten Captain Janeway killed! Damn it! Putting her on report, cleaning plasma relays... none of that works with Seven and this is attempted murder! Damn it. What the hell are we gonna do?" She clenched her fists and it was obvious, at least to him, that she was reigning in her temper. "Seven got worse once she started seeing you. More... smug and since the two of you got married, she's been, I don't know, shooting death glares at any woman who comes near you." Ayala scowled. "I never liked her, Chakotay. And now she's hurt our Captain. We've gotta do something here!" "Mike, that's why you're here; you have all of Tuvok's threat assessments. Can Seven still walk through force fields?" Chakotay asked. Ayala hesitated, and then nodded. "She's still Borg enough for that. Icheb can't, but Seven can. Tossing her in the Brig isn't an option. Even if she couldn't walk through forcefields, chances are she could use nanoprobes to reprogram the computer to beam her out or something like that." "So... we could maroon her," Chakotay said softly. "But if the Borg find her, what she knows endangers the ship. And with what she's been doing, my bet is she'd be vindictive enough to be voluntarily assimilated." "If she's confined to quarters, the same problems exist with throwing her in the Brig, and she'll be a drain on resources if she's not contributing," Ayala said quietly. "Then what the hell do we do with the p'taQ?" B'Elanna demanded. "She's proven that she's dangerous! The Captain treated her as if she were her daughter and was repaid by being tortured! We certainly can't keep her anymore!" She frowned. "I hate to say it, Chakotay, but she's a liability. Perhaps we should seek a... permanent solution." Ayala sighed. "It's not the Starfleet way, but we're not exactly regular 'Fleet out here. If it looks like an accident and is in the ship's log as such..." The log cut off there, and Chakotay was shocked back to the present out of his reverie. His older self appeared on the screen. "We followed through with the plan and the guilt ate at me. Even though it was a superficial kind of love, I had loved her once... and then I as good as killed her. And that guilt... it poisoned everything. The relationship between Kathryn and I never recovered. Everything we could have had died when I was stupid enough to fall for Seven's obvious charms." The older version of himself coughed again, covering his face with the bloodstained handkerchief. "I read the damn drone's logs afterwards. She was blaming the Captain for her own assimilation, from removing her from the Collective, and the loss of Axum. I swear, if I'd known how emotionally immature she was and just how unbalanced, I would never have gotten involved. She started reading things into even the most innocent of interactions and all that got tangled up in jealousy and it was a disaster waiting to happen. Screw the temporal prime directive! Break up with Seven before the two of you go any further and get her into treatment when you get home. I'm begging you, make sure she doesn't do this to anyone else!" The picture cut out, leaving Chakotay reeling. Seven dead from a shuttle "accident" on a routine away mission that he helped engineer. Kathryn enduring a year of isolation combined with six months of torture. The two of them separated. He'd thought he'd stifled his love for Kathryn, but it and a fierce protectiveness came roaring back at the thought of what had happened in the defunct timeline. Hell, he wanted to hurt Seven for something she hadn't even done! It stopped, now! None of it would ever happen now! He slapped his commbadge. "Computer, locate Seven of Nine." "Seven of Nine is in the cargo bay." "Is she awake?" "Affirmative." He stood and left his quarters. It didn't take long to go to the cargo bay. She was pacing restlessly. "Seven?" He knew that as angry as he was, it wasn't this Seven he was angry with. He had to tread carefully. He drew in a deep breath to calm and center himself. "Commander," she said formally. "I thought we were friends if nothing else," he chided her gently. "We are, it's just--" She frowned. "You have come to terminate our romantic association." "As your friend," he stressed the final word, "I will take you to your family and help you settle in. And the Captain and I will make sure you're treated fairly and get the help we couldn't get you on Voyager because we lacked the resources." Her frown deepened. "I do not need help." "Yes, Seven, you do. You've experienced post-traumatic stress episodes that included hallucinations," he pointed out. "Hell, the counselors are probably drooling over getting their hands on all of us! I can pretty much guarantee that the entire crew is facing mandatory counseling after we dock." "I--did not realize." She looked disconcerted. "You're a lovely young woman, Seven, and I very much doubt you really want to settle down and raise a family." He did his best to be as gentle as possible. She looked down at the control panel. "No," she said softly. "I do not." "But I do," he said with a smile. "Very few people spend their lives with the first person they date." "I... will adapt. Thank you, Commander," she murmured. "Being back in the Alpha Quadrant opens new possibilities for the entire crew, yourself included." He paused for a moment. "And for a mission of this length, as the commanding officers, the Captain and I will likely spend several months sequestered in debriefings. Any kind of romantic relationship wouldn't survive that." Seven seemed to hesitate and then laid her hand on his arm. "Are you sure, Chakotay?" she looked at him through long lashes. He gave her a quick smile. "I'm sure Kathryn will be willing to help you settle into the Alpha Quadrant, as am I, but you and I are just too different and want different things." "I... see," her voice was even stiffer than it normally was. "I wish to be alone now, Commander." "I'll see you later, Seven," he said quietly as he made his way out of the cargo bay. He drew in a deep breath and held it, then released it. He'd make sure there was a strongly worded suggestion in her file that she be sent for intensive counseling when they finished the crew recommendations. But for now... well, Kathryn needed to read the same logs he'd read. He needed to know if what she'd hinted at earlier was even a possibility after they were out of the same chain of command. Based on what he now knew, it was more than a possibility. And for the first time in years, he had hope. ~~~~ They'd been asked to enter the SOL system at impulse and sent several engineers and spare parts to effect all the repairs Voyager needed. Other than that, she'd never looked better. As soon at it had looked like success was likely, the crew had started cleaning. There wasn't even a cubby aboard that couldn't have passed the proverbial white glove inspection. Surfaces gleamed and the carpets had even been cleaned a few weeks before. Yes, she was a bit shabby and worse for the wear, but the crew as a whole was determined that no fault would be found with the care Voyager's crew and her captain had shown for their ship. All the correct protocols had been dusted off and shined up as well. Originally, the aim had been so that the brass wouldn't be able to tell Maquis from regular 'Fleet, but by the time they actually made it home, it was a matter of pride. Voyager was a Starfleet ship, run by Starfleet personnel. The crew was determined that everyone with whom they came into contact with would know that. It had been Chakotay's idea to start with. On and off over seven years, they had prepared for homecoming. They made sure that everyone knew the regs and that they would be followed to the letter when the brass came aboard. It was also why, when scuttlebutt had it that their captain might be facing jail time if any hint of impropriety was found all mention of a possible romantic relationship between her and Chakotay had been carefully scrubbed and the records fixed so that as far as the computer was concerned, the data had never existed. The Voyagers protected their own. Unofficially, Ayala had told Chakotay that it had all been taken care of. After all, the reasoning went, they owed their captain for getting them home in spite of all the odds against it. He tapped the PADD against his leg as he waited for the turbolift to stop. He and Kathryn were to finish up reports in her ready room. By unspoken agreement they were avoiding being alone in her quarters in the near future in case some of the non-Voyager 'Fleet Personnel had a bent for scuttlebutt. They were doing their absolute best to avoid any appearance of impropriety. And really, well, they'd never acted on their feelings, anyway. They'd rather avoid prosecution for something they'd never actually done. He stepped out of the turbolift, crossed over to her ready room, and hit the chime. He could feel eyes on him, and a quick peek showed that it was one of the replacements Starfleet had sent over. The door hissed open as he heard the Captain's voice. "Come in." "Captain, I have that report you asked for," he said as he stepped inside and the door hissed shut behind him. She gave him a puzzled look. "Report?" He smiled a little. "Well, I do have a repair report and a request from the engineers Starfleet sent to allow them to scrub the soot marks off the hull and repaint the registry numbers." "I didn't ask for it," she said mildly, gesturing towards the stacks of PADDs on her desk. "I was being watched," he explained as he set the PADD down. "Did the Admiral give you a data chip, too?" Kathryn frowned. "She gave me a small box, but I haven't had time to look at it yet." She opened her desk drawer and pulled out a small box, that was about the size of the boxes that contained rank insignia. She hesitated, and then slowly opened it, revealing a data chip. "I guess she did," she murmured. "I'm willing to bet her personal logs are on it," he commented quietly. "She gave me my counterpart's logs, and I know now why she did it." "All of the deaths?" Kathryn asked. "Tuvok's condition?" "Partially, " he admitted. "I think she wanted to save me from a lifetime of guilt, get Seven help, and save herself--save you." "We shouldn't be talking about this," she began. "We've smashed the Temporal Prime Directive to smithereens already," he said dryly. Kathryn sighed as she moved up a level and sat on the couch. "You wouldn't tell me what happened when the deflector dish got burnt out." "That was different!" he protested. "I think that was when I started to give up hope on us," he said softly. "It made me remember how we used to be. The two of us, together." She frowned. "We never..." "No, but we knew how we felt. The teasing, the flirting, all of that got lost somewhere." He crossed the room and settled next to her on the couch. "We'll never be the same people we used to be," she said slowly. "But we can get some of that back. It's just--Seven." "I told her I was willing to help her get settled and we need to get her help. We can't allow her to repeat what her counterpart did." Chakotay leaned back against the cushions. "Her counterpart tortured you for six months because she saw you as a rival for my affections... and just so you know, as soon as I'm not under your command, I have a very important question to ask." "If it is what I think it is, the answer will be yes," she said quietly. "What about a family?" Chakotay murmured. "I can't reset that clock much longer, but like most 'Fleet personnel, I have my genetic material in stasis." She drew in a deep breath. "I want fat, roly-poly babies with your dimples." He flashed her a big grin. "I want some girls with red hair and blue eyes." She laughed. "It isn't likely, Chakotay, not with your genome." "True. Now... about the reports. We need to make sure there's a strong recommendation for Seven to get counseling. She has had a few PTSD episodes; we can use that as an excuse." Kathryn nodded. "All of us will be seeing counselors," she observed. "I got the word from Starfleet Medical that we won't be released until after all of us have had full medical exams, including psychiatric evaluations." "I can wait a few more weeks, Kathryn," he said softly. "We're going to have the rest of our lives together." He returned to ship's business, so when the door chimed and the man he'd mentally labeled as the 'snoop' entered, it was all he heard. ~~~*~ As soon as medical exams had been completed, they'd been given a short period of leave for the holidays, but were expected back at Headquarters for debriefings two days after the new year began. The Wildmans had officially taken custody of Icheb until he turned eighteen in a few months. He'd been accepted as a second year cadet starting with the new semester. All of them had passed medical exams with flying colors--though those that had been assimilated were wanted back for surgery to remove a few stray Borg components that had been left due to a lack of resources and time constraints. And, well, Tuvok's family was on their way to cure his neurological condition. Every single member of the crew would be spending a month--for most it was longer--in mandatory counseling. Unbeknownst to anyone, the doctor had removed Seven's emotional failsafe. Her emotions were volatile and completely uncontrolled. He had been reprimanded for doing it without bringing a counselor in for treatment. Seven had been deemed to be a potential danger to herself and others and placed in a high-security residential treatment facility until she could learn the necessary self-control. As promised, the charges had been dropped against the former Maquis. Field commissions had been upheld, further training offered and every one of them was given, not just the opportunity, but encouragement, to stay with the ' Fleet. The Equinox survivors were another story. While their families had been allowed to visit, all of them were being detained for their actions on the Equinox. They were facing Article 32 hearings for their parts in the slaughter of the Ankari, and probable court martial. All things considered, it could have been much, much worse and it was better than he'd dared hope. Chakotay slung his duffel tube over one shoulder and held out his hand for Kathryn. She took it as they walked slowly towards the transport station. They'd made sure that every member of their crew had somewhere to go; their arrival had been so unexpected that families were not necessarily there when they arrived. They were visiting her family for the holidays and would go to Trebus to visit his sister and her family during the leave they'd been promised after debriefings. "Have they said anything about us?" he asked softly as they walked. "Not really," she admitted. "Debriefings haven't started yet; I'm sure it will come up at some point." They arrived at the transport station and luckily, there wasn't a line. "Bloomington, Indiana," she requested quietly. The man on duty eyed them but didn't say anything. Instead, he simply nodded and transported them. "Perhaps we shouldn't have held hands," he observed. Kathryn snorted. "They may not have had the change of command ceremony yet, but Voyager isn't mine anymore and everyone is being reassigned, anyway. She's due a long vacation in spacedock while she's being refit." They stepped off the transporter pad, hitched their bags a little higher and started walking. "So you're saying that..." Chakotay began. "I was told that considering our circumstances, they wouldn't have been surprised for us to arrive home with half the crew either married or in long-term relationships and with a hell of a lot more children." Kathryn squeezed his hand tightly. "So if we had... changed our parameters and came home with a family?" Chakotay asked. "Uncle Theo, that is, Admiral Patterson, said they would not consider prosecuting any of Voyager's crew for violations of fraternization regs. At least this time around." She fiddled with the commbadge she was still wearing. "So if we showed up to debriefing as more than the command team..." he trailed off. "Probably nothing, but you never know," she said with a grimace. "It depends on which Admiral is in charge and if they're out for blood or not." Chakotay shivered and wished he'd replicated a warmer coat. "Which way?" he asked. "We can cut through the park," she offered. Her eyes lit up as it started to snow. "I've missed this," she admitted as she stopped and turns her face up towards the sky. "What? Snow?" he asked. " "Weather in general," she clarified. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as they started walking again. He felt the small box hit his thigh as they walked through the lightly falling snow. Watching their footing, they carefully started to cross a picturesque snowy bridge. He stopped in the middle. "I have a question to ask you, then," he said quietly. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the box. "This has been passed down in my family for generations." He opened it, showing her the ring inside. "It was rescued after the Cardassians killed my family. Kathryn, will you marry me?" One of the quirky, crooked, half-smiles that he loved crossed her face. "We've never even kissed." He grinned at her. "I bet most of the crew considers us married already..." He leaned in and kissed her slowly and tenderly. She kissed him back and it quickly spiraled out of control. He broke it off, breathing heavily. "You won't be able to tell them we've never even kissed now," he said as he gasped for air. She laughed breathlessly and leaned her forehead against his chest. "With some of the questionable decisions I made, I may be facing court martial anyway. What's one more charge?" He chuckled. "They can hang us together! Oh, and I love you, Kathryn." She grinned saucily and kissed him again. " I love you, too. And yes. I never want a day apart from you." He kissed her again and with cold hands, slipped the ring onto her finger. "Me neither." "C'mon, Chakotay," she said softly, "let's go home." Hand-in-hand, they walked towards her mother's house and his new family. Towards their new life... Together. End.
10343997	Cuz Your Love is All I	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Ko Shinwon, Yan An, Yeo Changgu \| Yeo One, Yang Hongseok, Lee Hwitaek \| Hui, Jung Wooseok, Adachi Yuto, Kang Hyunggu \| Kino, Jo Jinho, Kim Hyojong \| E'Dawn", "Fandom": "Pentagon (Korean Band)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by heecheondo (orphan_account)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-17T00:00:00", "words": "13,718", "Additional Tags": "Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - College/University, POV Third Person, Shinwon-centric, Background/Established jinhongseok, Backgroung non exclusive 98z, Huidawn if you tint your head exactly 46.8 degrees to the right, but only because hyojong is in denial, Polyamory", "Relationship": "Ko Shinwon/Yan An/Yeo Changgu \| Yeo One", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "M/M, Multi", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Shinwon met Changgu when he was seven. The younger boy's family had just moved to the house next to his and his mother insisted to bring him to visit and welcome them into the neighborhood, as well as give them some homemade cookies. Mrs. Yeo had brighten when she saw the two, inviting them in and calling her husband and son to at least greet them. While the adults chatted in the kitchen, Shinwon was left with the cookies his mom has made in the living room with the boy, a six year old back then. He seemed shy at first, but it was probably because he was in a new place with no friends, the older kid thought. Shinwon offered a cookie to the boy, who quietly took it and ate it, and when the younger gave him a warm smile, he decided he'd be the best kind of friend Changgu could have.Not that he was indeed shy. Shinwon now knew him for almost fifteen years and if there was something his dongsaeng wasn't it was shy. He was in fact really friendly and charming: once he got used with his new surroundings and opened up, his welcoming personality attracted many people, he became popular fast during middle school and it remained that way until high school. However, no matter where he were or who he met he'd never forget his first friend, he’d never leave him behind. Wonnie-hyung, like he called him back them, was the number one on his heart and they’d never be apart. They've become best friends quickly and they were practically glued, just like Changgu had promised. They went out a lot and also had many sleep-overs at each other's house, sharing everything. Except for when Shinwon graduated from middle and then high school, the two of them would always be together. Sometimes people would say they were actually boyfriends (the first time it happened they pretended to be disgusted at that, mainly because they knew each other's dirty secrets and habits and they'd refuse to have a partner like that. “Hyung picks at his nose, I'd never kiss that mouth!”, Changgu once said. Shinwon had shrugged back then, saying it was his loss, but mostly to hide the little crack his heart did). They had the kind of friendship that nothing would ever be strong enough to ruin them.So this is probably the reason why, after so many years of unbreakable friendship, Shinwon should not be worried about being or not left behind. The older boy was far from being popular (the elder he became his awkwardness grew with him and because of that he wasn't popular like the younger, always surrounded by people) but even after they parted ways the two of them kept in touch. Even with the older of the two having to attend university they still met sometimes and talked about everything and anything, from silly things to personal issues.But then he looked at the strange man in front of him, and he looked back at him, and something inside him screamed caution.“Hyung, this is my roommate, Yan An! He's arrived recently from China, but his Korean is already really good. He's also majoring Literature!,” Changgu said when they met during lunch. It was the younger man's first year into university (not that classes had started, they still had half a week, but the students had started moving in a fortnight earlier) and Shinwon had been really happy they'd once more attend at the same place. He had invited the younger to lunch with him, just like they did on high school, but he wasn't expecting him to bring someone else and, okay, normally he wouldn't mind. But five minutes observing them and he could already tell the two of them clicked in such a way, any stranger would assume they were the ones who grew together. Shinwon felt like he was the stranger, and not Yan An. Maybe it was because they were the same age, or because they have the same major, or simply because they're interested with each other. Not that he'd blame the Chinese for that, Changgu was an amazing person, a lovely friend, and he'd bet he would be an adorable boyfriend too. Not to mention how fine he was, head to toe. He had to admit, though, that Yan An wasn't behind him. He was tall, probably taller than himself, and at first he was super handsome. He didn't talk much, but his nodding and short smiles were already so adorable the older couldn't help but want to admire. And the way they looked at each other, it was calming, in a way. Yet it also made him feel some kind of pain inside, he couldn't verbalize it, but he hated it.“--nwon-hyung wouldn't mind, right, hyung?”The older blinked at the two ninety six liners. He didn't even realize he'd tunned their conversation off until he heard his name on his favourite dongsaeng’s tongue. “I wouldn't mind what?”Changgu raised a brow. “Weren't you listening to us? How cruel of you,” and then he pouted, he dared to pout in such a cute way he often did to get into the older man's soft side. “Remember you said we could go to the park near the campus on Saturday? I thought it'd be a good to bring Yan An along, since he's new and all, but only if you don't mind.”Ah.Shinwon forced a smile, hoping it didn't look so. “Sure. I don't mind.”His dongsaeng smiled really wide, and then Yan An was smiling too, although shyly, and Shinwon didn't know what he was feeling, but it was bad. He said he didn't mind. But the thing was, he did.He lied to himself even since he woke up, Koh Shinwon, you are not jealous nor will be jealous. You'll go out with Changgu and everything will be nice. Yan An will come along and you'll even get to know him better. You're not being replaced nor forgotten, Changgu is simply making a new friend, and so are you, so there's nothing to worry. Yet, the moment he heard knocking on his apartment door, he felt an anxiety he hadn't feel in a long time. He checked himself in the mirror a last time, leaving his room moments later.As much that hurt seeing how his beloved childhood friend had his attention (unfairly) divided, it was admirable how sweet he was being to his same age friend. Changgu was naturally like that, even with people older than him. It was one of the things he adored the most on him. The young Korean pointed at places he recognised, sharing with his Chinese friend some nice memories he had there, recommending good places to eat and had fun. Shinwon tried to contain his blush as he noticed most of the stories had him in it (and most of them he had to butt in and stop him from finishing, because Yan An didn't need to know all the embarrassing things he had done as a preteen).Once in the park, Shinwon sat in a bench and watched as the two youngers decided to play around with a Frisbee. It was amusing, but his mind wasn't thinking of that. His mind was traveling in time, reminding him that once upon a time it was him and Changgu versus the world. Him and Changgu climbing the trees next to the neighborhood's park, him and Changgu using sticks as swords, him and Changgu spread on the floor looking at the sky and sharing stories. He missed those days, they were dear to the older.(Once they went to that park at night, without their parents knowing, and they just stayed on the grass for almost an hour. Shinwon’s mom almost killed him afterwards, but it was so worth it. The younger boy had cried at his window and asked him to come as he somehow felt calmer here, and who was him to deny him? That night, his dongsaeng told him he liked boys as much as he liked girls, and that he had a crush on a boy his class, but he had heard him say ugly things about ‘this kind of people’ and it hurt him. Shinwon then hugged him and said he was beautiful, and probably said something bad about the boy, making the younger smile. Once he calmed down, he admitted not having any interest in girls. Changgu laughed, but then apologized, his only words being “sorry for assuming”. It was one of his favourite memories, and probably when he realized his feelings might not be entirely platonic, yet he often pretended he didn't know.)But they hadn't come as him and Changgu. It was him and Changgu and Yan An. He wasn't sure what to think of it. The sun suddenly was blocked, making him return to the present moment. Yan An was looking at him with a soft face, asking him if it was okay for him to sit besides him. He nodded.“Where's Changgu?”“Went to get some ice cream.”“Shouldn't you go with him? He only has two hands, you know.”He didn't want to sound so harsh, the younger resembled of a scared puppy and he felt guilty, but before he could say anything he was smiling once again. “I'm not having it. I'm on a diet.”Oh.“You two seems pretty close”, he continued after a while. “He mentions you a lot, it seems like he hold you dear, as if you're the most important person for him.”The older looked up to the sky. “We know each other almost forever, that's probably why.”He hummed. “You two must be really in love.” Wha--? The Korean eyes widened at that and Yan An blinked at it a couple of times. “You're his boyfriend, right?”“Wha-- No, oh no! We're just,” he paused and licked his lips, not really wanting to say the next word. “We're just friends. He's my best friend.”Yan An made an o with his mouth, looking a bit surprised. “Are you two single, then?” Shinwon nodded. Well, Changgu would tell him if he had someone, even if it was a tiny hopeless crush, so he was absolutely sure the younger Korean was as single as himself. “I'm sorry for assuming, but I really thought you were dating. From the way you look at him to the way he talks about you, it seemed like that.” He looked at his feet, and was that a blush forming on his cheeks? “You'd be a cute couple,” he then whispered, but Shinwon managed to hear it.Before he could comment though he heard Changgu’s voice, handing him one of the ice creams he had in hands. “Sorry hyung, your favourite flavour was out of stock. But I know you like this too, so.”“Thank you, Changgu-yah,” he said, and quickly looked back at Yan An, but he was still glaring at his feet, cheek definitely pink.Shinwon didn't know what to think of it, but it’s not like he had the time to, since Changgu started blabbing about their shared memories once more. The Chinese man was quieter than before, the older noticed, but didn’t dare point it out. The rest of their meeting passed too fast for the older to remember all the details, them ending up on a cafeteria and then each heading their home once the sky started to get dark. The only thing he remembers was staring at his tall dongsaeng’s backs while they parted, talking cheerfully about something he didn't catch up. It was a nice scene, he almost wished he was there with them, but he'd probably be once more standing awkwardly by their side like a shadow.The first class as a sophomore soon passed by, and just as quickly the entire month ended. Surprisingly, the ninety five liner met new people and befriended them, having someone besides Changgu (and Yan An) to talk during lunch. In fact, their schedule didn't always match his own, so it was probably the best like that. Not that he never saw the duo, nor hated their companion, but he didn’t have to eat lunch by himself and his thoughts in case they were busy.“Jinho-hyung is mad at me,” his same major senior, Hongseok, said when the younger asked why he looked like shit (his words). Usually, his hyung would said something just as ‘nice’ back at this punk who dared sass his elders (his words), but he seemed too emotionally hurt to do it this time.“What did you do?”, Hwitaek asked, visibly concerned. They had only met because he was close to Hongseok, since his major was music production and not engineering, and they quickly became close as well, much to Shinwon’s surprise, but it was more the older’s fault. He was just too likeable and caring to be shut down.“I didn't do anything!”, he started, but one raised eyebrow from the older and he sighed. “It was our 600th day yesterday and I pretended I forgot it all day because I wanted to make a surprise, but now he's all grumpy at me.”“Well, did you surprise him?”“Yes, Shinwon, I did, everything went according to the plan, and in my humble opinion it was fucking stunning, but he still won't look me in the face. I even slept on the couch! My body is killing me and I still have to work out.”“Uh-uh, you're resting. Work out a little tougher next week or something, but don't you dare overdo your back,” the self proclaimed dad of the group said before biting on his sandwich.“Plus,” the younger interviewed, “Jinho-hyung might think you are using it to avoid him or something. Why don't you just apologize once your classes end? Take him for dinner, maybe?”“Yeah, isn't he free today?”“Yeah, it's the only day he has no classes,” Hongseok mumbled. “I don't know, I tried apologizing before but he didn't accept it.”Hwitaek patted his shoulder. “He probably cooled down, trust me. It'll be fine.”Shinwon wanted to add something but just then his phone started beeping and curiosity hit him. He usually doesn't receive messages on weekdays except in two specific scenarios: it's some partner asking about a work they had to do together, but there were none that semester, so it was probably the second option, a certain dongsaeng who urgently needs his hyung-- 12:31pm: (unknown) hyungggg! 12:31pm: (unknown) it's me, yanan~ Oh.Well, not exactly wrong, but it wasn't who he'd expected. Before he could react the messages continued popping up. 12:32pm: (unknown) i stole ur number from changgie 12:32pm: (unknown) don't tell him!!!! he dosnt know i know his pass 12:35pm: (unknown) anywa 12:37pm: (unknown) this will sound random probably but 12:37pm: (unknown) maybe youd like to go out w me???? He wants to what? “You look like you've seen a ghost.” Looking up, he noticed both his hyungs staring at him. He hang on with his mouth open, not really knowing what to say. “Is it Changgu? Is everything all right?”, the oldest asked.“No, it's… it's Yan An?”Two pairs of eyes widened. “The kid you're jealous over because of Changgu?”“Jea-- Wha-- I'm not jealous of anyone, Hongseok-hyung--”“How does he even have your number?”“Changgu, probably.”“Yeah, he said he stole it from him and--” “Huh”, both his hyungs said in unison.Shinwon raised an eyebrow. “What… is it supposed to mean?”Hongseok looked at Hwitaek, who looked back at him, and they had some kind of parental telepathic conversation that made Shinwon shiver. But then, the taller one smiled, looking at his dongsaeng. “So, aren't you replying to him?”“What--”“Look at the time! I have to go, tell Anie I said hi!”, and like that the oldest of the two simply got up and left, not forgetting to pat both his dongsaeng’s shoulders. Hongseok nodded at the youngest man, mumbling something about going to his class soon and leaving him alone with his phone in hands. What should he even say to Yan An? 12:37pm: (unknown) i mean a friend of mine invited changgie n i to a party but he refused to invite u cuz 12:37pm: (unknown) 1), the friend is mine n 12:38pm: (unknown) 2), u and party dont work out 12:38pm: (unknown) his words, idk what it mean 13:38pm: (unknown) we're both coming and i thought, why not u come w us? 12:42pm: (unknown) sooooo, whatcha think? 12:57pm: (unknown) hyung? Oh. It’s him… and Changgu. Of course. Silly of him for thinking it’d be something else. 13:03pm: (me) sry was talkin 2 huihyung n seokkiehyung 13:03pm: (me) they sent u hi btw, but they already left so 13:03pm: (me) abt this party, where is it? im not fond of parties but i can think abt it 13:04pm: (Yan Anie) !!! 13:04pm: (Yan Anie) really!!!! nice 13:05pm: (Yan Anie) i’ll send u all the info thennn~~ 13:05pm: (Yan Anie) his house is near the dorms so u won't be lost ~ 13:05pm: (me) well see abt that 13:05pm: (Yan Anie) u can't be srs 13:06pm: (Yan Anie) it's literally the next road 13:06pm: (me) still possible for me 13:06pm: (Yan Anie) mmm 13:07pm: (Yan Anie) then we'll pick u up 13:07pm: (Yan Anie) like when we went to the park!!!! 13:07pm: (me) sure, if i do go that is ;) 13:08pm: (Yan Anie) it's basically already settled hyung 13:08pm: (Yan Anie) u coming with us :)~ 13:09pm: (me) D: 13:09pm: (Yan Anie) hihih 13:09pm: (Yan Anie) well!!!!! 13:09pm: (Yan Anie) my class is starting so i’ll send it the info to you later on!!!!! 13:10pm: (me) k, see ya yananah~ 13:10pm: (Yan Anie) :} Shinwon stared at his phone. Okay, so. He was confused. He was absolutely, entirely sure Yan An only talked to him because of Changgu. Until this moment the younger had never tried any kind of conversation with him directly, and when there was the three of them he barely even talked to him. He wondered that maybe the Chinese only talked to him because he had to, or something like that, but then he wouldn’t invite him to this party, right? And it wasn’t like he had invited him just because he was his friend, no, he actually stole his number just to do it, even after their common friend had said he’d probably not come. But then… they would hang out together, as in the three of them, just like it’s been even since the day at the park. Maybe he just wanted to be sure that, indeed, he’d not go to the party just like Changgu said and the two of them could go alone and leave him behind with no guilt--Okay, maybe he was overthinking it. He didn’t know, but he had classes in less than twenty minutes, and his now cold lunch was still only half eaten, so he decided to push his thoughts away. Looking himself in the mirror, he kind of regretted all his life's choices.Okay, not all of them. Only the one that involved him going to a party Friday night instead of doing what he does the best: sleep. He had to admit though, he looked like a natural party boy and he wasn't even trying hard. He was wearing a relatively old skinny jeans with holes on his knees, a simple shirt that made his shoulders stand out and a black high top sneaker. He was also wearing a few rings, but nothing much. He was proud of himself.He was giving his hair its final touches when the ninety six duo arrived at his door.“Hey-- woah, Shinwon-hyung! You look stunning.”He wouldn't lie, Shinwon deep down knew he was good looking. But when the compliment came from someone else, no, from Changgu of all people, it made him feel utterly beautiful. He then looked at the taller man behind him who'd been nodding at his same age friend's commentary, which made the feeling increase.“Thanks. You two don't look bad either.”“Don't look bad? Wow hyung, you wound me like that.”“I don't think that's what he meant, Changgu”, Yan An smiled, and it somehow felt incredibly nice of him. “Well, let's get going, hyung, the party probably already started. Sorry for being late, by the way.”“His fault.”“You took too long on the shower, it took part of my precious time!”The older of the two only giggled at that.The walk to the party was quiet but it wasn't a bad silence. Shinwon felt comfortable walking with his dongsaengs in front of him (who were probably chatting, but they were speaking in such a low voice the older couldn't be sure). He thought how would the house look like, as well as the ones living in it. Yan An mentioned that the house was under a Japanese boy's name, called Yuto, but he lived together with a Korean hyung by the name of Kim Hyojong. The foreign was still in high school, graduating soon, but was of age and ended up being dragged on parties by his roommate, who apparently lived for them. He didn't know how the two of them ended up together (and he also didn't exactly knew what together meant) but it wasn't any of his business to butt in.Once they arrived, Yan An knocked on the door and after nearly freezing his butt outside he clearly looked uneasy, wondering if someone would be able to listen to it due to the loud music, but moments later it was opening, a very tall man looking down at them. He looked really, really young, but his intense glare and size made him a little bit frightened.“Oh, Yan Anie-hyung”, a deep voice said, and it didn't help Shinwon to fear him regardless if he was younger or not. “Thought you'd never appear.”“I went to Shinwon-hyung’s to avoid having him lost,” he smiled, pointing at him. “And this is my roommate Changgu, I probably already mentioned him once or twice. Guys, this is Wooseokkie!”His dongsaengs shared a hey, but all he did was nod at the tall kid.“Well, come inside, hyungs. Yuto and Hyojong-hyung will be happy knowing you're finally here.”Shinwon quietly followed the Chinese, who was lively chatting with the new boy, Changgu right behind himself, maybe a little bit too close than he'd like. It was probably to not lose track of his two friends, yet it still made the older feel something . He wasn't sure what it was but it was there and it wasn't really a good thing.The place wasn't too crowded, but maybe the house was just too big. Yan An mentioned on their way that this Yuto guy had a rich family in Japan and even though he decided to go to Korea study by himself his parents still kind of spoiled him with money, so he was already expecting something a little bit cooler than the shoe box he lives in.“Yuto, Yan An-hyung is here!”, Wooseok shouted towards a short boy (well, he was quite tall, but next to the younger everyone was short) who was on the counter with another boy really closely. Shinwon wondered if they were making out or simply chatting, the lighting didn't help, but once they heard the tall boy's voice they parted.“Finally, hyung, what took you so long?” the tan boy looked at the two strangers and introduced himself as Yuto, and his smiley companion was called Hyunggu. Yan An smiled brightly at them and introduced his friends.“Oh, Changgu-hyung! He talks about you a lot”, Hyunggu said. The older kind of expected that, they were really close friends after all. “I was hoping we could meet up soon. And Shinwon-hyung, too.”“Huh?”“Yeah, pretty sure hyung mentioned you but he didn't give us many details?”, the host completed.“I… see.”“That's a funny reaction to have, hyung”, Hyunggu said, hugging the Japanese’s neck. Only then he noticed the boy was sitting on his lap and suddenly felt as he was third wheeling. He thanked the lighting of the place, or better, the lack of light, because he was certainly blushing of embarrassment. “Aren't you glad your dongsaeng talks of you?”“Well, did he say good things about me?” he involuntarily smirked at them, and he was surprised Hyunggu did the same. Yuto’s face did twitch a bit, but it was unreadable. The older wasn't really paying attention to him anyway.“Not with all the details, but he did mention you being really handsome and sexy.” the younger got up at that, getting closer and closer to Shinwon, right hand in his left shoulder. “Glad you came. His descriptions doesn't do justice.”“Is this something good?”The shorter man giggled. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. Fuck, the kid was hot. Really hot, it was unfair. “Of course it is. It means you're way hotter than I imagined.”The older just froze, but gladly he didn't need to do anything because someone cleaned their throat behind him to his rescue. “I think Hyojong-hyung wants to talk to you two?”, he heard a familiar voice say.Hyunggu looked at the owner of the voice, then back at Yuto, who took his hand and with no more words the two left.“You okay, hyung? You looked like you were panicking.”The older turned to meet the Chinese’s stare and nodded.Yan An approached his ear so he'd listen to him better. “Sorry that I left, it's been a while since I last spoke to Hyojong-hyung and it'd be rude if I didn't at least say hi to the owner of the house, but I thought you and Changgu were following me?”“Changgu isn't with you?”“No, I think I lost him”, he got a little distant from Shinwon’s body, not much, but enough to look at him directly in the eyes. “But since we're here, we could drink something and hope he'll return soon?”The Korean found himself nodding again, sitting where the host had been moments ago.“Did those two bother you?” his dongsaeng said after a shot.“Hm, not really?”“What exactly did they say?”The older shivered. Well, they mentioned you calling me handsome and sexy?, but it was probably them fooling with him, so he just shrugged. “I think all they did was flirt with me.”Yan An giggled like he usually did, but this time it felt different. He was adorable. “That's normal between them. It's the ninety eight line thing, although Wooseok is a bit shyer than those two.”“What thing?”“They're kind of into each other? The three of them. But they also aren’t exclusive, so if they find someone interesting they can be like that. It's not always and if you ask them to stop they will, don't worry.”“They think I'm interesting? Someone like me? As if.”Yan An looked at him as if he was joking. “Really? After the way Hyunggu stared at me when I interrupted him, I'm absolutely sure at least he was into you. Seriously, hyung, you're fine.”Shinwon looked at him and raised an eyebrow but decided against the question that formed on the back of his mind. “Have they flirted with you before?”, he asked instead.A smirk. A goddamn seductive smirk formed on the younger’s lip as he stared back at him. Shinwon cursed the alcohol. “Kind of? I remember Yuto did, and I guess Wooseok awkwardly tried to hit on me once too, but it was too funny for me to catch it on. Guess Hyunggu never tried because of that.”He simply hummed, drinking the second (or was it third?) refill. He started feeling warm inside, and conversation kept going. He tried not drinking much, not that he was light for these things, but he was most likely to spill things without thinking and was also much moodier when drunk. He wanted to avoid it.Yan An, though, wasn't on the same page as him. He lost the count of how many times he refilled his cup and started to get worried for him, whom started whining like a child who just got denied candy. Changgu hadn't appeared yet and he wasn't sober enough to deal with an emotional dongsaeng. He was already quite impatient with no alcohol in his system and it only helped to worsen it.“I think we should go, Yan Anie.”The younger just kept complaining and if he wasn't an impatient ass maybe he'd find it cute. Maybe. Shinwon managed to make him stand, but he couldn't walk by himself. The older groaned.“Do you want some air, at least?”“No hyung, just stay with me ple~ase” was his reply drunk smile on his face. It was kind of creepy, he never thought he'd see that kind of expression on his face.The older ignored what he said, dragging him to the garden. He expected someone to be there, maybe a couple making out in private, but it was deserted. He was glad.“Want me to get you some water? I can look for Changgu too--”Yan An cut him, spitting a “Do you hate me, hyung?” with a tired face. Shinwon blinked a few times, not really knowing what to say. “Why is it always about him? And Changgu too, most of the times is Shinwon-hyung this and Shinwon-hyung that, but at least he talks to me you know? He tells me if something is bothering him and asks me if I'm alright too, if I'm comfortable or if I need help with the assignments because of the language barrier. But you? You barely talk to me and when you do it's about Changgu, or because we're hanging out, the three of us.”“Yan An…”“No, hyung, answer me. Do you hate me?”He stared at the younger boy, who was staring intensely at him. Does he? No, he was certain he doesn't hate Yan An. Although everyone says he's jealous of the Chinese - and maybe they're a little bit right, but just a bit - he actually enjoys his presence. Well, the boy wasn't wrong that they mostly hang as a trio, and they rarely keep in touch when their friend in common isn't near. But hate? He'd never.“I don't hate you, Yan An. It's just… can we talk about it later? You're… not sober.”He groaned, but his expression softened, understanding what his hyung meant. “Sorry. Fuck, I'm screaming at you and I'll probably not even remember it tomorrow. It was supposed to be a fun day, I can't believe I ruined tonight.”“Hey, you didn't. It's okay, as your elder I shouldn't let you drink so much.”Yan An smiled at him and his eyes shined. Shinwon hadn't pay much attention to it before, but at that moment he couldn't stop thinking how the boy was handsome. And kind, too. He was a sweetheart, he felt bad for making him think he was hated.“You're pretty”, he whispered and he hoped the younger didn't hear. He did, though, as the corner of his mouth got up.“So are you, hyung. So are you.”He could feel his breath on his skin, realizing their faces were really, really close to each other. Yan An looked down, probably staring his lips, and Shinwon did the same. If any of then moved forward a little bit their lips would met, the older thought. So, without thinking more, that's exactly what he did. Why? He doesn't know. It just felt right.It was a small peck at first, like an experiment, then he backed off to watch how the Chinese would react. He didn't move, but his cheeks got pink(er), eyes slowly opening. Shinwon didn't know if he should apologize and let it die there or if he should try his luck once more, but in the end it didn't matter because Yan An’s lips was on his this time, his body closer than before. The older automatically reached for his hip, while the younger clinged to his shirt. Soon their pecks were more than innocent pecks, the Korean sucking on the other's bottom lip, receiving a moan as response, and kissing him with more heat, more tongue. Air was soon missing and they parted, but it only took them a few moments for the older to lock their lips once more, being pulled by the younger who practically set him on his lap. Their breath was getting heavier but Yan An didn't stop him, Shinwon didn't want to stop himself, blame it on the alcohol but it felt so right to have his dongsaeng’s lips on his own, then moving to his jaw and to his earlobe, biting lightly and he wanted more , but then the door behind them opened and they jumped from each other, hoping whoever left the house didn't saw them. The figure was on his back, thank god, having problems with closing the door. Shinwon wanted to look away and ignore them and continue but then the figure turned and oh fuck it was Changgu.“Oh, there you are, were you hiding from someone?”, he smiled sweetly at them and something ached inside him. He didn't know what but he somehow felt as if he'd betrayed Changgu a few seconds ago.“Uhh”, Shinwon replied. Suddenly it was so hard to form words? He coughed, hoping his childhood friend didn't notice his inner trouble. “Yan An wasn't feeling well so I thought a bit of air would do him good..”“Really?”, the young Korean went closer to his same age friend and handed him a bottle of water he had been holding. “You'll need this then. Isn't it better if we get him home, then?”Shinwon nodded. “I thought so too but I couldn't do it alone.”Changgu smiled. “At least our dorm is close by. Let's go, hyung.” The first thing Shinwon felt when he woke up was a light, yet very annoying headache, and he was glad it was Saturday because that meant he could stay in bed all day long and not worry about class the next day. Then, he smelled breakfast, and decided against his first thought and opened his eyes, staring at the roof of his flat. Except, the roof was a little off, it wasn't as he remembered.And then it clicked: he wasn't home.But why? He stopped and tried recovering his memories. He didn't drink much, so he would soon remember. He had arrived at the party, met a tall dude, then the host and his boyfriend (if he was called like that, he didn't know how that thing worked), got flirted by same boyfriend, then got saved by Yan An, drank with him, left to the garden…. Oh. Then they drunkenly make out. And then Changgu appeared and helped Yan An arrive at their flat, and insisted the older to stay.That's it. Nothing else. Except, well, he drunkenly made out to his dongsaeng after the younger admitted he thought he hated him, and he actually enjoyed it?But wasn't he in love with Changgu?(Thinking now, Shinwon wasn't sure if he had talked about Yan An being in love with his best friend or himself being in love with him.)“Oh, you're awake”, he heard said boy's voice as he entered his bedroom. “Did you sleep well, hyung?”“Yeah”, he caught himself saying. “Where's Yan An?”“On the bed next to yours. I mean, mines.” He smiled. “I've made breakfast, and I also have some medicine for the hangover. Come, and let him rest, he drank way too much.”Shinwon groaned but did as he was told, body too heavy to cooperate but he managed. It was for a good cause, food. Changgu asked how it was the party for him and the older caught himself saying he enjoyed it.“Really? But I thought you hated that kind of stuff. I was surprised you actually accepted to go with us.”He shrugged. True, he did hate parties, and the events that were held at Yuto’s house weren't exactly cool too, so it wasn't enough to change his mind. Yet, he couldn't help but think that maybe it hadn't been as unpleasant as he imagined.“But it was good you did come,” he said after a minute of silence, smiling at him. “Not just because you helped me bringing Yan An home, although I'm happy for that too. Ever since the day at the park we barely meet up to have fun, I was expecting us to enjoy ourselves yesterday but I guess that didn't happen.”“There's always other days.”Changgu stopped to stare. “Yeah,” he slowly started, “but because of classes and other schedules you rarely see Yan An and I so I don't know when we'll have another chance before the winter break.”The younger was still smiling but he didn't seem cheerful. It was sad, it pained him to look at his dongsaeng with that look, it didn't suit him at all. It was as if he was… lonely.Shinwon didn't get the chance to say anything because a groan came from behind them and the younger was up, focusing on the new person by the kitchen. Yan An sat in front of the older, hands in his head, as his roommate gave him pills and a glass of water for his hangover. Without noticing his entire body got stiffen, looking at the Chinese for a while but looking away as soon as the younger turned in his direction. "So, Changgu, where were you yesterday?", the older suddenly asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that grew up. "Oh, I was following Yan An but then he disappeared and I got a bit lost so I looked for you two.""Sorry Changgu-yah, I shouldn't have left."The younger Korean said something similar to 'don't blame yourself Yan Anie!' but Shinwon's brain was too tired to focus on more than one thing at once, and it was too busy wondering how adorable Yan An could sound during a hangover? "Hyung", he heard a very soft voice calling for him, which made him blink his thoughts away to look once more at the youngest. Because of the hands on his face he couldn't see his expression. "Did you have fun?"He smiled at Yan An. "I think so, yeah."The corner of the younger's lip went up. "I'm glad. We should do it again. Also, Changgu," he removed his hand to stare at said man. "You owe me 10000 won."Changgu's expression changed at least five time in less than ten seconds. "Wha-- You're-- Not now, Yan An-ah!"Both of his friends complained due to his shout. Changgu smiled apologetic at them, but then Shinwon's brain clicked. "You had a bet on me? Woah, I don't even know what to think about this."The short boy was adorably embarrassed by that. "Hyu~ng, not like that! And why did you mention it in front of him, Yan A~n!"Said boy smirked. "Why not?"He received a groan as an answer. "Whatever, I hate you.""I love you too, and your money~."Shinwon caught himself laughing. That scenario was so weird, the three of them sharing breakfast and teasing freely, but it was weirdly perfect. After a bit of chit chat, the older realized it'd be a never ending Saturday. He was feeling too lazy to go home, his body felt heavy, but at the same time he really wanted to return to his small apartment and sleep peacefully, with no human beings to bother him. His childhood friend however, thought that (his words) this was a chance too good to be thrown away. "What do you mean, a chance?", Shinwon asked, getting up to leave the kitchen. The younger of the trio had beaten him though, dropping himself on the small couch in front of their television. He was too big to be lying on it, leaving no space for the older duo. Changgu didn't seem to mind it and kept the conversation with his hyung. "You said the three of us could have another days for having fun together, right? Why not today?""I don't know if you noticed, Changgu", Yan An said from the couch, "but I'm dead. And hyung is half way there.""I didn't mean that we should go to another party and get you two drunk again, I mean we should hang together, and that we can do here, for example."Shinwon liked where this was heading to. Enjoy his usually boring Saturday with his two favourite dongsaengs, and indoors? Greatest. Idea. Ever. "What do you have in mind, Changgu-yah?""Well, I had thought of Netflix and pizza all day, but I'm not sure if the asshole dead on the couch is in the same page.""Pizza?", the younger boy was now paying full attention to his roommate, eyes wide open at the thought of the junk food. "I hadn't had pizza in forever. I'm on a diet, remember.""Yan An-ah~", the older whinned and wow, was there still alcohol in him? Why was he acting cute towards someone younger. "Are you saying no to pizza? I can't believe this.""Just this once, Yan An~! For us~."The Chinese stared at his friends for a while, and then sat properly on the couch. "Fine. Just because you asked nicely."Changgu, who a few moments was near Shinwon, had hurried to the couch to hug his same major friend, saying a bunch of thank you under his breath. Shinwon didn't really know how to react, but then the younger Korean stared at him and he knew he wanted him to join. He reluctantly did, and he couldn't help but hope the younger wouldn't mind it. Yan An didn't complain until, long minutes later, he told one of them to move their ass and buy their lunch. 8:24pm: (Changguya♡) hyung, u home? 8:39pm: (me) jst arrived 8:39pm: (Changguya♡) thank god 8:40pm: (Changguya♡) for a moment i thought u wld get lost 8:41pm: (Changguya) if yanana wanst so wrecked id go w u :( 8:44pm: (me) its k 8:44pm: (Changguya♡) bt anw 8:45pm: (Changguya♡) thank u for coming 8:45pm: (Changguya♡) n for stayng 2day, p sure u were dying to go home 8:45pm: (me) u rite 8:46pm: (me) but it was nothing dont worry :) 8:47pm: (Changguya♡) :0 8:47pm: (Changguya♡) u mean it? 8:49pm: (me) ye 8:50pm: (Changguya♡) then… yay! 8:50pm: (Changguya♡) ill log out then, hve a baby to take care of :/ 8:51pm: (Changguya♡) dnt stay up too late! and dont forget to eat before sleeping! 8:53pm: (me) dont wrry mom 8:53pm: (me) gnight changguya 8:53pm: (Changguya♡) :p 8:54pm: (Changguya♡) night hyung~♡ He hoped the next morning was normal. He had already dealt with too many unusual things in one weekend, although he deep down believed it wasn't completely bad to leave his comfort zone at least that one time. But Shinwon had really early morning classes on Mondays, yet he still had an emply schedule before lunch that he often used to study or grab a snack (and sometimes, when exam weeks weren't so near, he'd go bother his seniors), yet this time he managed to cross ways with his dongsaengs before they went to their classes, Changgu glued to Yan An who didn't seem against it. The older boy had tired eyes while the younger seemed like he'd slept like a baby, and although they were that close all the time... It was an unusual scene.The Chinese quickly spotted him and smiled wide. "Hey hyung~. Good morning, leaving classes already?""Yeah, my first period just ended. But you two should hurry up, or you'll be late." Yan An nodded at him and then poked his roommate's arm, since he had tuned their conversation off. "Yeah, we're going. But before we go I was thinking, can I add you on a group chat?"Shinwon quietly looked at the younger. "You know, Changgu really want us to hang around more, but because of our schedules we can almost never do it. So I thought, if we had a chat only for us we could plan it better and talk about anything and... Yeah!" He had toned his voice down as he spoke, but by the end rose it once more. "So, what do you think?"He blinked. That was actually a great idea? "Sure, add me. I know you know my number."Yan An stared at the older's smirk for a few seconds, but then turned away hoping he didn't blush in front of his hyung. "I'll add you then. Let's go, Changgu."Said boy blinked at them, and it seemed that he was slept on Yan An's arm while they spoke. Shinwon patted him. "Hey, Changgu, are you okay?"Said boy mumbled something that seemed quite close to yeah, I'm fine, but he wasn't sure. If the older of the three had paid him some attention he probably would have catched the disappointed look Yan An's eyes had for less than a second. "He's been having trouble sleeping for a while and we woke up too late for us to grab coffee. Don't worry, hyung, I'll take care of him."The older boy decided to not ask anything, as they were probably late to their class, but as he saw they walk away his mind had wandered around. Changgu slept like a rock, unless he had something bothering him deeply. He wondered what it was and why didn't he talk to him about it, but by the way the younger spoke maybe he didn't feel as close to him as he once did. Well, he did sound lonely when he mentioned they don't hang out much anymore. Maybe that was it. Or, maybe, he'd done something that harmed his relationship with the younger. Or maybe Yan An told him about the kiss and felt heartbroken? Nah, scratch that, Yan An didn't show any sign that he remembered that. He probably did something that Changgu didn't like. He should do something. "Shinwon I swear to God your brain is your worst enemy," he whispered to himself after a while. Why was he like that, why did he think so much, too much about everything? He hated feelings. He lightly shaked his head and, although he was behind on his studies, he decided to go bother his seniors instead, to liften his mood. "Jinho-hyung~! It's been so long since I last saw you," he shouted as he entered the cafeteria, hugging the small hyung. "I'm also here, punk. Don't pretend you haven't seen me.""It's not that I haven't seen you, Hongseok-hyung, but I see you too much for my likings so I'm used with your face already."Said hyung simply rolled his eyes. The older laughed at their teasing but decided to stay out of it. It was for the best. "Shouldn't you be studying right now, Shinwon? The exams are coming soon."He sighed. "I know hyung, but I didn't feel like it so I came see you and annoy your boyfriend instead.""We're honoured", his same major senior deadpanned, which made the oldest of them laugh once more at the scene."If I didn't know you two I'd say you hate each other's guts.""I do", they jokingly said at the same time. It wasn't that they hated themselves, they just teased each other more than they'd tease someone else. "But since I hate you just a bit, can I ask what's bothering you?" Hongmom asked a few seconds later. "As much as I trust you two, hyungs, I'm not really up to talk about it.""Is it about your boy?""He's called Changgu, hyung."Normally he'd deny it with all his strengths, but he wasn't in the mood to do so. Hongseok stared at him a bit too long and he felt embarrassed. "So it is about him", the older said with a small smile. "I won't press it, but you know we're here for you, okay, Shinwon?"The younger tried to smile but he was sure it seemed fake. "Thanks, hyung."He thought that maybe he'd bothered his hyungs too much and should leave but then Jinho was looking at something behind him and waving, and before he noticed there was someone he'd never seen before sitting in front of him, by Hongseok's right. "Hyojong-ah, it's been so long since you last came to the cafeteria.""I usually eat at home but for whatever reason Yuto kind of kicked me out.""Isn't it too early to be sexiled?""I really don't wanna think about it, 'Seok-ah."Wait, Yuto... and that name... "Are you Kim Hyojong-ssi?"The blond figure looked at his direction as if he didn't realize he had sat with a stranger. Well, he was a friend of friends, he reasoned, so his expression quickly softened. "Hello, I hadn't seen you, sorry. Do I know you?""Ah, it's okay, it happens often. I don't know you personally but you're friends with a dongsaeng of mines, Yan An. I'm Koh Shinwon."As soon as he heard the name he smiled brightly. "Oh, you are the famous Koh Shinwon? It's a pleasure to meet you finally!"The younger hoped he didn't blush. Seriously, the guy was so handsome even with a messy hair and sleepy, puffy face. It wasn't fair. "I didn't know you know Yan An," Jinho suddenly said. "How come everyone knows Yan An and I only heard of him?", his boyfriend added. Hyojong laughed. "He's shy and has different major than yours, that might be why.""But I know Changgu.""Because of me, hyung. And he's very social.""Details, details," he shrugged. Hyojong looked at the younger. "Hongseok is your hyung? No way.""Yes way, Hyojong-ah. He's the youngest on this table.""Well, that's only fair, I still can't believe you're the hyung.""At least hyung is cute."Jinho blushed cutely and Shinwon felt like puking. The couple was so adorable and pda even after so long into their relationship it was sickening. And to think they had fought a while ago because of something so innocent, but thankful for Hongseok('s back) they reconciled fast. Much like every time they have misunderstandings. "It's too early for your love dovey thing, what the hell", Hyojong said but only received a tongue from the oldest while the taller kissed the top of his head. "Don't you uglies have classes?"His same age friend stared at him. "Don't you have a crush to, I don't know, admire? At this time he's probably practicing."The blond's face went scarlet and he decided to ignore the couple. Shinwon did the same, not knowing what to do or say after that. You were added to the group chat 96z Yan Anie changed the group chat name to the visuals 5:02pm: (Yan Anie @ the visuals) done 5:02pm: (Yan Anie @ the visuals) i said i would! hihi 5:17pm: (me @ the visuals) oh 5:19pm: (Changguya♡ @ the visuals) oh indeed. 5:19pm: (Yan Anie @ the visuals) cmon guys 5:20pm: (Yan Anie @ the visuals) this is The solution 4 our problem 5:20pm: (Yan Anie @ the visuals) u shoud thank me ;D 5:20pm: (me @ the visuals) thx yananah 5:21pm: (me @ the visuals) happy? 5:21pm: (Yan Anie @ the visuals) yes hyung!!!!! love u hyung 5:21pm: (Yan Anie @ the visuals) changgu? :-) 5:22pm: (Changguya♡ @ the visuals) i already told you this was a good idea-- 5:22pm: (Changguya♡ @ the visuals) but if itll make you happy, 5:26pm: (Changguya♡ @ the visuals) thanks. 5:27pm: (Yan Anie @ the visuals) it took u 4 mins 2type that….. 5:27pm: (me @ the visuals) lol 5:27pm: (Yan Anie @ the visuals) hyungpls…… 5:27pm: (Yan Anie @ the visuals) TT He wanted to die. The exam week would start tomorrow and he didn't feel a second ready for that. It was Sunday and he was dead tired, but instead of going to bed he thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to go out for a glass of coffee. Shinwon never thought he'd meet the ninety eight trio again, specially when they were at his university’s cafeteria, on a day almost no student goes by the campus, and he was entirely, absolutely sure none of the three of them attended there.“What are you three doing here?”“Oh, it's Shinwonnie-hyung!”, Hyunggu said, and the older shivered lightly because it's been ages since he last heard someone call him like that. Not even his mom call him Shinwonnie anymore. “Come sit with us!”, he continued, patting the spot by his right. The older didn't really feel like sitting besides the guy who openly flirted with him on a party, but the rest of the seats were taken by his (boyfriends? He still wasn't sure how that worked), so it wasn't like he had another choice.“We were going to meet with Hyojong-hyung but we arrived too early so we're here wasting time instead. This place is the best, your cafeteria is open on a Sunday, how cool is that?", Wooseok smiled at himself and then pointed at the food in front of him. "Fries?”The older accepted the youngest invitation and ate a couple of fries.“So, how does you know so many university students when you don't attend here?”“Ah, Wooseok and I know Hyojong-hyung because of our hobbies,” Hyunggu started. “Hyung is majoring dance and had done a few performances and I met him there, told him I had interest in it too and he kind of took me under his wing.”“And now he dances better than hyung, not to be biased.”The second youngest playfully showed the maknae his tongue, but didn't deny it. “By then I was already with this asshole and that's how the two met.”“He likes writing rap and so does I so we clicked fast.”"And we were introduced to some of his friends so here we are~."“In my case I got acquaintance with Yan An-hyung first”, Yuto finally spoke. "I have no idea how Hyojong-hyung knows him but he lives nearby and since we were the only foreigners we kind of had each other's back for some time. I don't know how to explain well. But yeah, because of Yan An-hyung I met practically everyone around here.”“We're endlessly thankful for that”, Hyunggu grinned, and Wooseok rested his arm on the Japanese’s shoulder.Shinwon hummed and kept eating, until Wooseok complained it was over. Yuto decided to shut him up with a kiss, and then poked his tight and told him to come with him to get some more.“Hyung,” the remaining kid spoke once more. “What is Yan An-hyung to you?”The older raised an eyebrow. “Is this about what happened on the party?”He thought a bit before answering. “Kind of, I gotta admit. I'm an outsider and this is only the second time we met, but I have a funny feeling, I don't know how to explain. He acted quite possessive of you and I've never seen him like that.”Shinwon could only silently nod, although he wasn't sure where the younger was going with that.“You know, hyung is quiet about his feelings”, unless he's drunk, the older mentally added, “but I feel that he really likes you and Changgu-hyung more than anyone he liked before.”“Wait. Changgu and I? Like… You and Yuto and Wooseok?”The younger nodded.“That doesn't really make sense.”“It probably doesn't for you, hyung, but please think about it. He talked a lot about Changgu-hyung I was certain he was in love with him, but recently he's been mentioning you more often and sounded pretty similar to before. I wasn't sure he liked you both until the party. To be honest I thought he'd never fall for someone, before university he barely hang with any of us. That party you all went to was also the first time he accepted going out, maybe we annoyed him too much and he just said yes to shut us up but I'm also not sure about that.”The older wondered. Changgu was a bit of a social butterfly, so if Hyunggu was right he accepted going because of him. But then, why invite himself, who hated crowds and loud music? "I think you're realizing it yourself, but don't rush. Think about it carefully, hyung. And if you ever need to, talk to me."Before he could refute it, Yuto and Wooseok returned with a mountain of fries and Shinwon decided to let the conversation die, Hyunggu silently agreeing.By the end of the day he had three new contacts on his phone. When he woke up the next day, he wasn't expecting his phone to have so many good luck messages. But the ones who caught Shinwon's attention was the two from their chat, a 'gluck hyunngngggg we kno u can do it!!!!!!♪' from Yan An and a 'yeah, hyung, u will certainly do well, dont forget to have a good breakfast! ull ace it :*' from Changgu. He would probably fail but he felt light and relaxed during the exam. When the one and a half long week of exams ended all he wanted to do was die. And by die he meant let his body fall on his bed and hibernate there until he and the furniture become one. He already knew that won't happen when he saw Yan An in front of his door with a very familiar McDonald's bag. "Hyung!", he exclaimed once he saw the older boy approaching. "I'm sorry for standing here for so long but I wasn't sure when you would be back."The taller boy scratched his head and stared down, blush on his cheek. He seemed nervous, Shinwon noticed. "It's okay. I'm glad to see a human being after so long."His (half) joke did its job, and Yan An's shoulders seemed less stiffen. His expressions also softened. "You didn't contact anyone and I got worried. Changgu told me it was normal and that I shouldn't worry that much but I wanted to be sure, so I decided to step by."Indeed, even since middle school the older boy cared a lot about his grades and it resulted with him avoiding communication and human interaction the entire exam season, sometimes even a while after. All his friends knew how much of a nerd he was, or at least his older friends. "It's only the first semester exams, you don't want to see me during the finals."Yan An looked a bit sad at that, but then smiled at him and raised his arm to show the older what he was holding. "Let us not think about it and eat in peace, okay, hyung?""Did you bring my favourite?""Yup, with Changgu's help. He wanted to come but because he delayed a work he stayed at home. He told me your favorite so I could buy it because he knew you hadn't eaten properly."He sighed, unlocking the door. "He knows me way too well", he whispered and then turned to his dongsaeng, inviting him in. "After you."Yan An seemed like he wanted to tease him but entered without a word, heading for the kitchen and putting the bag on the table. "Hyung, can I make myself some coffee?""Sure, save some for me too", he said as he sat down and searched for his hamburger. "You won't manage to sleep later if you have some.""You underestimate me. Not all the coffee in the world will stop me from sleeping for weeks."The younger smiled at that, but didn't look towards his hyung. The kitchen kept quiet until the coffee was done and Yan An sat by Shinwon's side. "Hyung, how are you feeling?", the younger broke the silence softly. "I'm okay, Yan An-ah, really. I'm still a sophomore, these exams are nothing--""I didn't mean about that, I meant-- in general. Are you feeling alright?"The older stopped eating his third sandwich to look at the Chinese. His expression was foreigner for him, he wasn't sure how to read it, so he simply nodded. Yan An breathed in and then out. "Hyung, I wanted-- no, I want to talk to you. About the-- about what happened at Yuto's."Oh. Oh. Fuck.Shinwon gulped, and Yan An saw it. "I know it happened a month ago but not talking about it has been killing me."The older felt bad for not noticing how uneasy his dongsaeng had been, but it was probably because it had killed him just as much. No one (apparently) noticed it either, but since they were awkward around each other and had conflicting schedules it was impossible for anyone but themselves to see it. The Chinese breathed once again. "I don't think you hate me. But even since we've met you didn't seem interested being friends with me. It seemed that you forced to stay near me because of Changgu, and I guess I should admit that I'm annoying when drunk."Shinwon smiled at that. "I don't hate you, I assure you. Your relationship with Changgu made me feel out of place at first and I think I feared you'd steal him from me? Now it sounds silly but--""Yeah, it sounds silly."The older made a face and flicked his dongsaeng's forehead. "Don't interrupt your elders.""Sorry, hyu~ng."He sighed. "Anyway, I don't hate you, Yan Anie."Yan An smiled brightly at him and he suddenly remembered that the events at the party did not end there, and it seemed that the younger remembered it as well. "You know hyung," he broke the silence for a third time that day. This was the most talkative - and open - the foreigner had been in front of Shinwon, ever. Including whenever their friend in common was with them and when he was drunk. "I used to think I could never love more than one person. I thought one day I'd find the boy for me and never let him go, and as soon as I started talking to Changgu I thought he'd be the one. And I still think-- I know I love him. But hyung," he was tearing up, although he fought the tears back, not looking at the older, "I also know I love you, Koh Shinwon."The older was frozen looking at the one in front of him. He didn't know what to say, he wasn't even sure what he felt. Suddenly his mind echoed Hyunggu's words, and shit he should have heard him.Noticing his hyung had nothing to say, he spoke once more. "I know you don't love me back, I know your heart is his, but if I didn't told you soon I'd combust. I'm sure it was just the alcohol but... I loved that kiss, and I felt so guilty for that--""Don't."His voice had been low but it was enough to make him stop. He hadn't noticed, but irrationally he got closer to the youngest face, and once he stared directly at him he become hyperconscious of that. He licked his lips and spoke again. "Don't be guilty, it wasn't your fault it happened. Or did you forget I started it?""You were drunk, hyung.""I didn't regret it, Yan An."The younger blinked and a tear left his cheek, Shinwon cleaning it with his thumb. "You didn't?""No", he honestly said. "My feelings got a bit confused after it happened but I'm certain of this at least."The Chinese boy touched their foreheads and closed his eyes. "I'm glad.""Since you've been honest about your feelings to me, I think I should do the same," the older started. "I thought I'd be forever single and alone. I've been loving him for so long I don't even know what is like not to love him. But I'm pretty sure he only sees me as a friend, so I didn't even try. However a certain boy made everything I knew twist."They smiled to each other. "I think I need some time to understand.. this.""It's reasonable. Don't worry, hyung. Take all the time you want. I'll wait for you, and I'm sure that so will Changgu." The clock hit four pm, which meant the last class of the day had just ended. Shinwon left a breath, he didn't hate his major but it could be a pain on his butt sometimes. He was glad it was over now, he could go home and lie down until the next day, his favourite hobby. He couldn't wait to go.But then he left the classroom and Changgu was there. Changgu. All by himself, standing a bit far from the door and looking down, waiting. As the older approached him, he looked up and smiled, but he could see the younger’s face was tired. He had bags under his eyes and it seemed a bit reddish.“Changgu, what are you doing here? Don't you only have morning classes today?”“Yeah, but I wanted to see you,” his smile grow. “That was your last class right?”He nodded.“It's been a while since we don't go out so I decided to step by. Is it fine by you?”“Of course,” he said as the younger started moving. “So, are we heading somewhere specific or--”“Just follow me and you'll see, hyung.”So that's what he did, silently walking by his dongsaeng’s side and sharing small talk. Changgu talked how he was doing at his major, mentioning he thought it was too easy and ended up being behind almost every subject, but with Yan An’s help didn't risk failing. Sadly the younger of the two wasn't as great either. The only problem the Chinese had was the language barrier, but that was enough to drag his scores down. Besides that, though, he understood very well.“-- but I think I'll manage. There's only one project I must finish and I still have a few days so I think I'm saved.”“I see. Hey, Changgu, is there something bothering you recently?”The younger looked confused. “Me? No, why?”“Well,” the older started. “You has been having trouble with sleeping right? That often happens when you have something in your mind, or is having some emotional distress, but I don't remember you mentioning any crushes so I guess that's not it.”The smaller stopped walking and stared at the floor, but Shinwon only noticed a few steps later.“...is it?”Changgu stared back at his hyung with an expressionless (yet pink) face. A few seconds passed until he left a small laugh and walked once more. “You know me too well, hyung, that's not fun.”The older didn't know what to think of it but the conversation ended there and he thought it'd be better to not press it. But there was no way it was it, right? Even if he was crushing on Yan An, who seemed to be the most logical conclusion, he would still tell him. And he was pretty sure that he was the closest person to his dongsaeng after himself, so there was no way it was someone--Wait. After himself… Nah, it couldn't be. All these years passed and Changgu showed no interest in him romantically. He had a few girlfriends and boyfriends as they got older, and he would always come to his hyung for advice (or to let him cry on his shoulder). It didn't make sense for him to like him, his behavior around himself didn't change… Or did it? Maybe he didn't notice.Oh my God Shinwon, you're over thinking again .“Here we are!”, Changgu shouted, and started to run. Shinwon’s automatic response was to chase him down.They were at the park. It made sense, it was their favourite place to go together when they were younger.The duo spent a while chasing each other as if they were back into middle school, but the fun ended faster than it used to because they didn't have the same energy from back then.“I'm old,” Shinwon complained as they spread themselves on the grass. His clothing would be wrecked and he'd hate himself later but for now, he wouldn't mind.“We both are. I miss those days.”“Yeah… I do too.”“Hyung,” Changgu said after a while. “Do you remember last time we came here?”A humm. “Yan An was with us.”“No, not that time. Before that.”“Ah. You mean the day I graduated from high school? What about that?”“You remember what you told me?”Of course he did. He remembered everything that happened that day, the graduation ceremony, the hamburger mountain he had for dinner, the two of them escaping to the park after eating… Changgu scared they'd grow apart.“Yeah, I do. I told you I'd never leave you.”He heard the grass moving and assumed the younger nodded. “You said that no matter what you'd be still by my side. You promised me that you'd wait for my turn, and you did keep your promise.”“Why would I break a promise I did to a crybaby? It'd be insensitive.”A gasp. “I'm not a crybaby.”“You did cry like a baby thought.”“I really feared you'd leave me for good!”“You were seventeen. Who cries at seventeen?”“I grew up! Ugh, never mind! You're so annoying sometimes.”“You still bare with me though.”“Of course! I--”“You…?”The continuation never came.“I… think it's time for us to go back. It's getting dark", he got up and - uselessly - hit his coat hoping it'd get clean. "Anyway, hyung, thanks for coming. I missed those meetings we had. It feels weird to not have Yan An around but I was feeling nostalgic.”Shinwon nodded. “Are you sure you are fine?”“Yeah, hyung, I'm fine. Just have a lot in my mind recently.”“Enough to keep you awake?”A laugh. “Yeah. Anyway, let's go hyung.”He had missed it. He had missed having his beloved dongsaeng with him, and only him. He had thought a bit about his feelings, and after what Yan An told him at his house he was trying to figure things out. He had already suspected loving his childhood friend, and because of the younger of the trio befriending him it became clearer, but at the same time he didn't know what the Chinese was for him. But when the older parted ways with Changgu, he remembered the time he looked back and he was with his foreigner friend, loudly laughing at something by themselves. And then, it clicked. CONTACTS Changguya♡ Huihui♪ Jinhoyaㅋㅋㅋ KangKinoJjang Seokkiehyung××× Seokkie Puppy Yan Anie Yuto Kitty Changing contact name, do you accept? Yan Anie >> Yan Anie♡ Cancel Okay Contact name successfully changed. When he called Hyunggu asking for an urgent midnight meet up two weeks after that, he was not expecting to be dragged into a gay bar. "Alcohol frees the soul," he'd said, although the older didn't think the same. "Aren't you too young to say that?""I became legal this year," he grinned, handing him a disgusting beer. "So, why did you call me?"Shinwon drank it one shot. "I love them both."The shorter blinked but quickly smiled and patted his back. "Tell me everything!"And he did told him, he let everything out. The alcohol probably made him talk a little bit too much but he wasn't sober enough care. Told how he loved when Changgu blabbed about what happened in class, but also when Yan An slipped some Chinese or mispronounced something and tried to cover up. Loved how Changgu helped when the younger didn't know how a certain word and loved how Yan An would suddenly become fluent when teasing someone. How he wasn't sure who was the most charming out of the two of them since they were so good looking. "Wow. Hyung, you're double whipped.""Thank you, mister obvious." He took another shot. “Weren't you supposed to help me? Why are we drinking in a gay bar?”“Why not? Don't worry hyung, I'll help you.”“Yeah?”“Go to your group chat and tell them you wanna suck both their dicks at once.”Hyunggu deserved that kick. “I'm not going to say something like that, it's-- it's embarrassing!”“Well, Yuto said that to us and it worked, so you will never know without trying.”“I'm not Yuto, Hyunggu-yah.”The younger grinned at him and drank his beer. Shinwon did the same, probably a few times more, as the shorter man spoke.“But seriously hyung, you should just tell them. Yan An-hyung already confessed to you, right? And I'm pretty sure Changgu-hyung is on the same boat, but maybe he didn't notice it yet and that's why he didn't say a thing.”Shinwon left a hiccup. “What if he only cares about Yan Anie~? Fuck, that'd be death.”Hyunggu silently handed him another drink. “Let everything out. You'll feel better later.”“I already hate you for that.”“Love you too, hyung~ hey, isn't that Hyojongie-hyung?”The older didn't care, he just wanted to drink and cry and cuss. But then the short boy was waving at someone and moments later someone sat by his other side.“Hyunggu-yah, Shinwon-ah, what are you doing here?”“Drowning,” the older of the two spat.The maknae couldn't help but laugh. “Hyung is dealing with multiple feelings.”“Oh, does it have to do with the ninety six duo?”Shinwon looked up at him and decided to ignore the fact everything was blurry. “How.”“I guessed. Usually I'm right about these kind of things.”“Unless it's about a certain senior of yours, hmm~”, the youngest of the three said with a teasing rhythm. “A music production major hyung who practices every morning~ 'Hyunggu-yah, you should hear his angelical voice'!”, he mocked, rising the pitch of his voice. And Hyojong actually blushed. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”“Come on hyung, admit you're crushing hard on Lee Hwit--”Shinwon was suddenly up, arms above his head. “Fuck you two, I wanna dance.”The other two shared a glare and then looked back at him, who was walking (with a lot of difficulty) to the dance floor. “Hey, hyung, I think you're not in conditions for that?”“What, don't you two love dancing? Shut up and dance with me~”“Seriously Shinwon, you should go home.”The drunk man looked offended at that. “Wasn't you the party dude? Don't ruin my fun, hyung, I'll probably wake up wrecked tomorrow so lemme do whatever toni~ght!”Hyojong holded him by his arms, with the youngest behind him in case he felt down. “No way, you're going home, little boy.”“Never mind what I told you, Hyunggu. I love you, hyung is the worst.”“Yeah yeah, hyung is the worst, that's why he's bringing you home. Move your fat ass faster please.”“Rude.” 2:40am: (me @ the visuals) i was thinkin 2:41am: (me @ the visuals) if were all visuals 2:41am: (me @ the visuals) whos The visual 2:41am: (me @ the visuals) the Ultimate Visual™ 2:58am: (me @ the visuals) will we have to fight each other to figure it out 3:03am: (Yan Anie♡ @ the visuals) r u drunk 3:04am: (me @ the visuals) no kkkkkkk 3:04am: (me @ the visuals) omg u sent dad at 3 3 am kkkkk 3:04am: (me @ the visuals) cool 3:05am: (Yan Anie♡ @ the visuals) k so ur ass is druk wherr r u 3:05am: (Yan Anie♡ @ the visuals) i cant drive butt i can wake cg up so thats smth 3:07am: (me @ the visuals) im @ bordom 3:08am: (me @ the visuals) hyojongiehyung is a fickngh party pooper for driving me home 3:08am: (me @ the visuals) TEH ASSHOLE OUT ME TO S L E EP EHEN IM SO GROWN UP ALREADY 3:09am: (Yan Anie♡ @ the visuals) hjhyung? party pooper???? lol 3:09am: (Yan Anie♡ @ the visuals) hes jsut not a dikc 3:11am: (me @ the visuals) i dont believe huuu 3:14am: (Yan Anie♡ @ the visuals) wtv 3:15am: (Yan Anie♡ @ the visuals) but answering ur questing 3:15am: (Yan Anie♡ @ the visuals) this groups visual is 3:16am: (Yan Anie♡ @ the visuals) tamtamtamtammmmmmm 3:17am: (Yan Anie♡ @ the visuals) obvsly me 3:17am: (Yan Anie♡ @ the visuals) now go 2slewp hyun 7:03am: (Changguya♡ @ the visuals) what the 7:04am: (Yan Anie♡ @ the visuals) i hate hjhyung 7:04am: (Changguya♡ @ the visuals) Why. 7:04am: (Changguya♡ @ the visuals) are you typing on the chat while im in the same place s you 7:05am: (Yan Anie♡ @ the visuals) 1, u startd 7:06am: (Yan Anie♡ @ the visuals) 2, im dead tired n wan2 sleep mre 7:07am: (Yan Anie♡ @ thhe visuals) 3 so hyung can see wat we talkin 2 7:07am: (Changguya♡ @ the visuals) ... 7:07am: (Changguya♡ @ the visuals) fair 10:36am: (me @ the visuals) remind me to never ever drink again. The chat group was, indeed, a great idea. Thank you once more, Yan An.It took them the rest of the semester for them to meet up again, the three of them. When they couldn't meet on the halls or during lunch, or even after seeing each other a few minutes ago, they'd text about their day, or a new song they found, or just randomly talk. It made them closer, Shinwon felt, and by them he meant the three of them. Changgu and him were the closest, for obvious reasons, but as they grow up their connection got weak. Then came Yan An, who quickly befriended Changgu, which by the start only helped to make it weaker, but now was a part of their relationship too. The older started opening up more to the Chinese, who in return did the same.When the semester was over, Shinwon cheered. He was dead tired, starting to regret his life choices, but the exams were finally done until a few months. That meant he could rest, but that also meant he could hang with his two dongsaengs. Together, this time. They did try to go out as duos instead of trios but it never made sense. Something, someone was missing.The older received a message on their chat inviting him to the other two's flat for a movie night. Yan An even said for him to bring his pajamas, declaring it'd be a ‘boys sleepover’, and Changgu didn't really complain about that, yet he made clear that it wasn't on their plans for that to happen.But there he was, less than half an hour later, sitting on their couch in pajamas."Let's watch a drama!""Wasn't hyung supposed to pick?""I'm fine with anything."Yan An smiled. "Drama it is then. Changgu-yah, are the popcorns done?"“Coming~!"Soon the younger Korean left the kitchen and sat on the middle of the other two.“Hey! I wanted to be in the middle!”“Let him be, Yan An-ah. He's a brat who loves to be spoiled.”The younger seemed like he wanted to argue but didn't say anything.“Are we ready for the movie then?”“Wait”, Changgu suddenly said. “Before we watch it, I think I should say the real reason why I suggested us to have this sleep over thing.”Shinwon blinked. “There was a reason?”“Neither I knew it.”The boy in the middle breathed in and then out, eyes closed. Then he opened them, but keep staring away from his sides, where his friends were standing and looking at him. “I was thinking about a few things, and I finally got an answer. You know, when this year started I thought it'd be just like middle school and high school, but in the end it wasn't a bit similar.” He looked at his right, where Shinwon was. “Hyung was here but our schedules never fit, and even if our relationship was still strong I missed you a lot,” and then looked at Yan An, sitting to his left, “but I wasn't entirely alone since I had you. You weren't hyung but soon I realized I held both of you equally dear.” He then rested his head on the couch, looking up. “It was so confusing I couldn't sleep, but I understand it now.”Shinwon and Yan An shared a glare, and then they both hugged him.“We understand you, Changgu. For me is was a train of feelings too. And I'm positive hyung was just as confused.”“Yeah, it was hell.”Changgu hummed. “I'm glad we're all on the same page. I mean, we are in the same page, right?”“It depends,” Shinwon teased. “Do you love me, Changgu-yah?”The boy blushed and nodded.“What about me, Changgu?”“You too… I love you too.”“Cool, because I also love you both.”“Same here. I love you”, the older kissed the younger’s cheek, “and I love you too,” and kissed the other too."So, hyung. Does this mean we're a thing?”"Yeah. We're a thing." You changed the group chat name to best bfs of the world♪♡♡ 19:01pm: (Yan Anie♡ @ best bfs of the world♪♡♡) ew 19:01pm: (Changguya♡ @ best bfs of the world♪♡♡) aaawwwww hyung ♡♡♡ 19:01pm: (me @ best bfs of the world♪♡♡) there are 2 types of people 19:02pm: (Changguya♡ @ best bfs of the world♪♡♡) and you love them both 19:02pm: (Changguya♡ @ best bfs of the world♪♡♡) <3 19:02pm: (me @ best bfs of the world♪♡♡) <3 19:03pm: (Yan Anie♡ @ best bfs of the world♪♡♡) youre disgustly cute i hate tht i love u both 19:03pm: (Yan Anie♡) <3
10369905	Enjoy The Show	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Prompto Argentum, Ardyn Izunia, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia, Ignis Scientia, Other Character Tags to Be Added", "Fandom": "Final Fantasy XV", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Laizora", "chapters": "1/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-19T00:00:00", "words": "1,464", "Additional Tags": "Psychological Drama, Psychological Warfare, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence", "Relationship": "Prompto Argentum / Ardyn Izunia", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "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 individual does actually carry on a double existence: one designed to serve his own purposes and another as a link in a chain, in which he serves against, or at any rate without, any volition of his own." Sigmund Freud The trip was meant to be simple. Travel to Altissia, see Noct get married and then return to Insomnia. Nothing was meant to happen. The capital was never meant to fall, for anyone to die and here he was. Still alive and not among the dead. The gunner had been trained to defend himself, so he could protect himself. Lacking any combat training or any useful skills, he was a dead weight. At the most, a friend who could maybe get in a shot or two in a fight. A motivator of kind with a camera to keep records. It was a joke, an honest joke and that wasn’t even considering what he was. It was only a matter of time before he slipped up. As much as he tried to not dwell on what they would think of him, in the quiet moments it was hard to escape. Both mentally and physically. There was some hope, a small shred of hope that he clung desperately. That all the time spent together would mean more than the DNA running through his blood. Not an enemy, a traitor or even a spy for the Empire. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to tell them. Just, he never found the right time or the right words. All of it weighed on his shoulders leading to many a sleepless night. Sat in silence outside of the tent or lodging staring up at the sky. Each time, it became harder and harder. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Ignis who did his best to comfort the younger male. Saying that the gunner could confide anything with him. No matter what it was. If only he could and hadn’t been forced to seek out other avenues. The first night in Lestallum proved to be the hardest yet. The brunette hadn’t left him alone all night, pressuring him. As though the other’s glasses could peer into his soul. In that very moment, Prompto snapped cursing and insulting the other. Things he would only wish on his worst enemy. It had done the trick. As the blonde haired male walked away, he didn’t glance behind to see the other man’s reactions. All he knew was that he could finally be alone. Not that it would last for long. As the gunner walked through the streets dimly lit in the light, it was impossible to tell that someone was following him. Not until the other had made their presence known clearing his throat. As though he had just stood on a daemon’s tail, he leaped forward whipping his body around. By instinct, he called upon his gun holding it out in front of him. Ready to fire at the threat in front of him. Only to hear a tut from a familiar face walking towards him, holding his arms open wide. “My sincerest apologies, I saw you walking past and you seemed… lost” Ardyn spoke with a curious tone and a tilt of his head as he walked. Despite recognising the older man, Prompto didn’t lower his weapon. Even as the stranger stopped, pressing up against the barrel of the gun that sat in younger male’s hands. “I seem to recall you being with the King, you must be...” Ardyn said trailing off in thought, hinting for the gunner to answer. Despite knowing full well exactly who the young male was in front of him. All alone, helpless and a prime target. It seemed that tonight was very fortunate indeed. “Prompto” the younger male responded, not saying anymore for the sole reason of distrust. The one word response amused the chancellor. Not for very long before things took a more serious tone. One with quite the dangerous edge to it. Before Prompto could react, he felt coarse hands upon his own coaxing them open. The natural response from the blonde haired male was to back away. Ardyn grip held him in place plucking his fingers one by one. Only when he heard the weapon clatter against the floor, the chancellor smiled at the other. Not even the bitter and disgusted expression from Prompto could throw it off. Oh that expression. How much could he throw the gunner into despair before the end of the night? He couldn’t wait to find out. To see the blonde haired male crumble beneath him, exactly where he should be. Beneath him, nothing more than a toy. Breaking the boy in one go would be no fun now would it? The chancellor had all the time in the world, to slowly tighten the noose around Prompto’s neck. Oh where did he start? There was so many options, so little time before the sun rose. Releasing the other male’s hands, he reached down retrieving the gun at his feet. With his new found freedom, Prompto stepped back turning to run back to the motel. What stopped the gunner in his tracks didn’t involve any physical contact. All it took was a few little words. “It would be most unfortunate if Prince Noctis found the truth behind their friend” Ardyn spoke causing the blonde haired male to stop in the middle of a step. Slowly Prompto turned around to face the chancellor, keeping his head low. “How?” the gunner asked in a low tone, trying to contain the fear and anger seeping through his bones. By the time he raised his head to meet the older male’s gaze, the older man was standing in front of him. “Such a shame you don’t remember. Ardyn Izunia, Chancellor of Niflheim” the burgundy haired male spoke offering half a crooked bow. Straightening up, he saw the fear brimming in the other male’s eyes. “Perhaps you would care to join me for a drink?” the older man asked, but the threat and warning behind his words was a clear as day. Despite what was spoken, there was no reaction from the gunner. Following the other male’s gaze, he found the blonde haired male’s eyes on the gun he had stolen. It earned a sigh from Ardyn’s lips, raising the weapon to the side of his face with the barrel facing upwards. The small action caused the the younger male’s gaze follow the weapon’s movement. Waiting for the barrel of the gun to be pointed at his head and the inevitable click. Only it didn’t happen, in fact the weapon disappeared into a puff of magic. The hand that had been wielding it was instead offered to Prompto. “I believe we can come to some agreement to help both parties. All you need to do is comply” Ardyn whispered as he leaned down towards the blonde haired male with a smirk. Instantly, there was a shiver from the gunner earning a darker chuckle as he straightened up. Planting his seeds, he turned on his heels to head back the way he came from. Walking slowly but with purpose, he headed back towards the aforementioned bar. Only this time he wasn’t alone, hearing the gunner’s footsteps behind him. Oh the fun he would have controlling the other. No doubt even easier after a few drinks, Prompto acting no different than a dog. Little did the chancellor the other male wasn’t about to allow himself be walked over. Living alone, he found ways of sweet talking himself out of situations. Whether he was strapped for cash and needed to mooch or threatened, he had a way of turning situations on their heads. A skill he intended to use against Ardyn himself. Throwing away pride and shame to help the others. Maybe then he could find his place among them, no matter what the sacrifice it would take. Something only he could do. If he could keep the secret of him being a magitek trooper all his life, he could keep this one. The gunner had nothing left to lose even if he failed. He could be proud that he made a difference, no matter how small. That was what he told himself as he stood outside the door to the bar composing himself. There would be two Prompto Argentum’s. The ones that his friends knew, and the other who would happily become the Empire’s dog. Throwing on his new persona, he walked inside the bar to be greeted by Ardyn at the bar. With a gesture to join him, the gunner closed the door behind him with a click. Mentally locking away his true self to protect it as the door shut. Only then did his feet carry himself over the older man at the bar.
10398903	Red Carpet	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Sakaki \| Giovanni, Apollo \| Archer", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by redhonedge", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-21T00:00:00", "words": "687", "Additional Tags": "subordinateshipping", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "giovanni / archer, sakaki / apollo", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Pocket Monsters \| Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: HeartGold & SoulSilver \| Pokemon HeartGold & SoulSilver Versions", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	He had visited this office a number of times before, but never from this angle.Slacks rubbing against the carpeting, what had once been solid red, with closer observation, turned out to bear lighter shaded patterning. Dancing across the office, twirling and unfurling, they stretched and hid beneath the dark, wide armchair, the glass liquor cabinet, and the mahogany desk he knelt near. The desk was far more imposing from the floor, large and wide from his sideways angle besides it. Shoulder knocking against it with every rock and sharp movement, it sent pens rattling atop it, and brought his eyes to snap over to ensure nothing fell.And he was greeted instead with his reflection, idly noting how the desk must have been recently polished (likely by a grunt, trapped for hours to ensure its shiny perfection), while avoiding truly looking at himself.He knew what he would see.Blue hair mussed, pupils blown wide with lust, eyes dark and glazed over. His mouth was brimming full, drool seeping out around his stretched-thin lips, intermixing with precum. When he pushed down, his throat bulged with every inch of cock he swallowed.A hand caught in his hair, and his eyes turned up, glazed blue connecting with dark brown, near black. “Admiring your reflection, Archer?”Giovanni pushed what little remained of himself exposed to the air all the way into Archer’s mouth, and Archer felt his cockhead brush against the back of his throat, rubbing and tempting him to gag. He remained steady, and in response, flattened his tongue as Giovanni began to rock, making it easier for him to fuck his mouth smoothly.“It must be quite the sight, witnessing a man such as yourself withering into a slutty cockwhore,” he commented idly, watching from his chair with a pleased smirk as Archer choked when he pushed him all the way back down. Struggling to not try to pull back, Archer’s eyes focused on Giovanni’s, wavering, yet still steady enough to maintain contact.The moment the grip holding him still went slack, Archer was jolting up for air, drawing in a sharp gasp before it faded into weak pants. Instead of allowing one of the hands clutching to the carpet to wipe off his mouth, his tongue dragged over his lips, disconnecting the thick line of saliva to Giovanni’s dick. He nearly jerked when the hand once gripping tight to his hair, nearly ripping strands from the scalp, smoothed gently over his cheek, but was prompt to lean into the touch, savoring it.“I enjoy this… Private side of such a professional man,” Giovanni chuckled, his hand unnecessary in guiding Archer back down. Obedient, and a touch eager, his cheeks swelled with Giovanni’s girth, lips suctioning tight to keep his teeth from scraping delicate skin. When Giovanni moaned, deep and throaty, he moved a little faster, tongue dragging over swollen glans and sucking along the slit before going back down to the hilt.Archer dug his fingernails deep into the carpet to keep from fondling himself with every bob of his head, the increasing pressure of Giovanni’s hand on his head encouraging him to go faster. Taking in more and more, throat relaxing, easing into a tempo, he nearly choked each time his rhythm was disrupted, eyes watering and burning, his own erection straining painfully against his pant zipper—Giovanni gave a sudden, sharp growl, cock buried into Archer’s throat to the hilt, the second in command’s nose pressing tight to his lower stomach. Archer gagged but kept steady, struggling for a second before swallowing the thick cum coating the inside of his throat with a few, jerkish gulps around Giovanni. Slowly, ensuring not to spill anything onto the carpeting, he leaned up, sucking gently as he went, lips popping off.Breathing in slow from his nose, Archer’s tongue dragged over sensitive glans, going slower when Giovanni’s jerked from the sensitivity of post-orgasm, lapping carefully and sucking off any lingering remains.Eyes drifting half-shut, almost able to forget his own needs, Archer tensed, only to sigh through his nostrils when Giovanni began to stroke his hair
10350714	Brief Thoughts	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Stargate SG-1", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Merce [archived by stargatefan_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2013-12-31T00:00:00", "words": "688", "Additional Tags": "POV First Person, Missing Scene", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "StargateFan Archive Collection", "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 }	Brief ThoughtsOh boy! I can tell Jack is really pissed by the way he’s looking at me. Hey! Give me a break, will you? At least I’ve tried to convince them to leave the planet! I’ve tried to find a solution! What have you done besides trying to kill Marcus?That was not fair. I can understand why he’s done it, well, why he’s tried it. Two men under his command were killed because of the too religiousness of that man. But if Jack had pulled that trigger…… if he had lost it….. I don’t know, he kinda made me remember the ‘Jack O’Neill’ I first met. There’s been really few times when I’ve got this impression from him. The first one, when all the SGC was attacked by the virus of the Land of Light. I know he wasn’t himself, but hell! he got me scared to my pants! Then, when he faked his retirement to get Maybourne. He really convinced me our friendship was ‘not much a foundation’ then. But I made him pay for that one, God! I made him pay. But today, he scared the shit out of me when he aimed his gun at Marcus. Afterall, a year ago he let the iris close before Alar could pass through it. Then, he didn’t want to tell me what happened. It was Sam who came later to my lab and told me what was the origin of the ‘thup’ we heard at the iris. I’ve never told Jack I know what he did. I don’t accept what he did, although I can tell why he did it. We are his ‘kids’ and nobody plays fool with us. However, if he hadn’t been such a big, grat asshole in the first place, and had actually listened to me, we could have avoided that situation. Of course, I’m not going to tell him this. It would lead to a non-sense argument, and I think I’ve had more than enough of them to last a lifetime. Not that I don’t know there will be more arguments in the future, of course. The way Jack is staring at me surely confirms that theory.What? What does the hell he mean? What should I have told them, Jack? Hell! What’s he doing? Oh Boy! He’s gonna scrap it! I hate when he gets on his it’s-my-way-or-nothing mode. Oh yes, Jack! That’s gonna make them react. Telling them their God, the one they have been revering for generations and generations is a little alien who is just been pretending to be their God is really going to help. And saying it like you’re speaking to a two-year old boys is just gonna make it better. Look at these people! If they didn’t think we were evils or fools before, now they do, granted. OK, now we’ve been cordially and oficially asked to leave the planet and not to come anymore. Not that the elder has said this last thing, but it’s an overunderstood statement.What? That’s all you can think of? ‘We’ve given them the option to choose, they chose, let’s go?’ Shit! he’s talking serously. I’ve learn from experience not to argue with him in this ocasions. By the way Teal’c is also looking at him I can tell he’s thinking the same. And here he goes. He’s starting to walk to the gate.Ladies and Gentlemen, Elvis has left the building. The End I just thought Daniel would not be a happy camper after his speech in the temple. © August 3, 2001 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characterswho have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership.This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.
10398975	Une histoire de	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Scott McCall", "Fandom": "Teen Wolf (TV)", "Language": "Français", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Tatsu", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-22T00:00:00", "words": "392", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski", "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 }	La meute au complet était réunie dans le loft de Derek. Cela voulait donc dire beaucoup trop de bruits pour les pauvres oreilles de l'alpha. Mais qu'est-ce qui lui était passé par la tête pour faire une meute composée d'adolescents ? Pire encore : qu'est-ce qui lui avait pris de s'amouracher de l'un d'eux ? Du plus bruyant, qui plus est.Stiles était en train de babiller, comme à son habitude. Derek n'était pas sûr que les autres l'écoutaient. Jackson était bien trop occupé à essayer de peloter Lydia. Malia s'approchait de plus en plus de Kira pour une drague bien peu subtile. Isaac matait Scott sans aucune discrétion tandis que Liam faisait les yeux doux à ce dernier. Et bien sûr, Scott ne voyait rien.— C'est une bonne idée, non ? lui demanda tout à coup Stiles.— Euh…C'était quoi la question, au juste ? Il n'avait absolument rien écouté de ce que venait de dire son petit ami.— Je ne sais pas, finit-il par répondre.C'était la réponse la plus bateau qu'il avait réussi à trouver sur le moment. Il préférait ne rien accepter venant de l'humain sans savoir précisément dans quoi il s'embarquait.— Pourquoi tu hésites autant ? Ce n'est pas grand chose. Et puis je ferai tout, tu n'auras rien d'autre à faire que profiter.Oh bon sang ! Était-il le seul à voir un double sens à ces propos ? Certainement. Quoiqu'il en soit, il devait trouver une autre réponse bateau. Et vite.— Je ne suis pas sûr d'aimer ça.Sur le coup, Derek ne fut pas certain d'avoir choisi la bonne phrase, à voir l'air surpris et plus que sceptique de Scott. Celui-ci prit d'ailleurs la parole.— Mais… Tu sors avec Stiles ! Tu dois forcément aimer la saucisse !Un ange passa brièvement. Puis Stiles s'étouffa dans sa gorgée de soda, certains regardèrent Scott éberlués et les autres furent pris d'un fou rire incontrôlable. Pour sa part, Derek était mort de honte. On avait pas idée de sortir des phrases pareilles.— Mec, articula difficilement Stiles en reprenant son souffle. Tu te rends compte que ta phrase est super bizarre sortie de son contexte ?Le pire, c'était que non, Scott ne s'en rendait probablement pas compte.— C'était quoi la question, déjà ? demanda Isaac comme s'il venait de débarquer.Derek le remercia mentalement.— J'ai proposé qu'on fasse un barbecue dans mon jardin en guise de prochain rassemblement.
10345107	Forever Fading	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Kevin Owens \| Kevin Steen, Franky The Mobster, Gino Brito", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Oaklin", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-18T00:00:00", "words": "2,223", "Additional Tags": "Poor Sami, it's his turn to only get mentioned, obligatory Kevin Steen warning, no seriously, Kevin missed being the pov character, and it is kind of gross and unnecessarily aggressive, speaking of which, Aggression, Swearing, Kayfabe Compliant, stealth angst, stealth romance, descriptions of semi gross things, Blood, weird introspective musings about awful things, Possessive Behavior, destruction of personal property, disparaging and unfair thoughts about people who just want to work out, god forbid Kevin yell at the person he is actually upset with, admitedly, that person is himself", "Relationship": "Kevin Owens \| Kevin Steen/Sami Zayn \| El Generico", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Forever Everything", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Professional Wrestling, Canadian Professional Wrestling International, World Wrestling Entertainment", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The plastic snaps its way to destruction in his hand, the device creaking in protest as he squeezes. He watches the particles crumble to the ground like they are made of calcified toothpaste--blood-“Fuck,” Kevin blurts out loud, the abrupt sound echoing through the room.Kevin exhales roughly, rubbing his fingers together, scraping off the dust left over. It clings stubbornly to his skin-(which is just so typical)-it's not his-(everything is-)No.-coloring his fingers with flecks of silver, gold and black.Which, now that he is looking at the results, and contemplating the situation, is probably a bad thing.Kevin wonders what chemicals a phone battery has in it. He wonders belatedly if he should go wash his hands.He is pretty sure the battery din’t actually break. Just the casing.(it is probably fine)-probably-(listen)-yes?-(...shut up)Kevin grimaces slightly as he shifts his fingers, feeling at least three places where a distinct, sharp pain tells him that he has little shards of screen embedded in his skin.-deserved-(fuck you)(didn’t do shit)-exactly-(the fuck?)-take-Kevin inhales so sharply an so quickly that he flinches, his nose burning at the hot air filtering through his sinuses. Resisting the urge to sneeze, Kevin hauls himself forward and up, lifting himself up off the bench with some effort, his muscles supremely unimpressed with him at the moment.Turning, he starts to stalk off over to the corner he had thrown his bag into when they got here, but he stops short, feeling a somewhat alien, yet at the same time somewhat familiar tug in his chest. He bickers internally for a heartbeat, before letting out a low, annoyed hiss, snapping his body around and slamming the weights back into the correct places, yanking them off the... whatever Franky had called the stupid, bullshit, phallic crossbeam that all these exercise douches seemed to like jerking off so much.-barbell?-(yeah)(whatever)-just saying. it's called a-“Fuck off,” Kevin snarls under his breath, slamming the last weight onto the pile next to the bench, eyeing them menacingly for a moment, ignoring the way he feels settled now that they are put back where he found them, before turning around and stalking over the the tiny corner of the loud, way-too-hot room where his bag landed.Pacing across the room in a way that he is well aware makes him look like a serial killer on the prowl, he stops in front of his duffel. He hears a voice call out from behind him, but he ignores it as he reaches down, hauling the bag up. Slinging it over his shoulder, his spins on his heel, griping the strap tightly as it digs into his shoulder.He can still feel the shards embedded in his skin, can almost feel them moving, as if they are still trying to cry out for-“Get the fuck out of my way Franky, I have places to be.”Franky’s smile doesn’t falter at Kevin’s harsh rebuke, and Kevin kind of wants to stick his fingers in Franky’s mouth and pulls his jawbone apart until he just-(stop fucking being so goddamn happy-)fuck-it's all of-“Get out of my way. Now,” Kevin reiterates, though this time it comes out as less of a demand.The words themselves are commanding enough, but even Kevin can recognize--oh really?--can you?--that his tone is more on the softer side of an order.-that is called pleading-(no shit)-begging if you will-(suck my nut)-masturbation jokes? is this really the time?-“My good comrade, is something wrong?”Kevin closes his eyes, the feeling in his chest making him want to throw up. He swallows against the dryness in his throat before answering, though his voice still wavers like he is still going through puberty.“I’m just fucking great. Never been better. Now, I’m only going to ask you once more, nicely, before I punch you in the throat. Get out of the way.” Kevin bites out, the word filtering through his tightly clenched teeth, barely making it past his lips.Franky doesn’t move, and for a minute Kevin thinks he is actually going to have to go through with his threat. His already aching chest clenches even more at the thought, though he isn’t sure exactly why.(not like I haven’t hit Franky before)-idiot-But Franky does move, after a few painful heartbeats of staring searchingly at Kevin, the jovial smile falling from his face slowly as Kevin stares him down. They remain frozen there, still as statues, Franky with his head tilted quizzically, Kevin breathing hard and feeling cornered and hunted, the sharper pieces of his shattered phone bleeding into his skin, like the unreturned phone calls are burned into his soul.(wait, what)-need-(No)(hang on)(you can’t just gloss over that shit)(what the fuck)(nothing is burned into my soul)-want-(shut the fuck up, you don’t motherfucking know anything-)“You don’t like it after all. Understandable,” Franky smiles again, though this time there is something more solemn there, in the gray of his eyes. Something less blindingly, gratingly chipper.Something less happy-go-lucky, and a little more rough around the edges.There is even a little anger there, though to be honest Kevin has no idea why, although he is sure that the anger is directed at him.-isn't it always?-“I am sorry. I wanted to take you somewhere you could work out your frustrations,” Franky says, moving out of the doorway.Kevin doesn’t hesitate, just stalks through the now clear doorway, ignoring the one or two perplexed looks they get from the other meatheads as they vacate the room of overcompensation.Franky falls into step beside him, so Kevin feels somewhat obligated to carry on the conversation.His next course of action then, naturally, is to shift the bag slung across his shoulders into a more comfortable position and keep his lips pressed tightly together.-obviously-(shut it)-you are doing a spectacular job of that for everyone in a hundred mile radius, thank you very much--you completely impossible diva-“After all, I should have known that working out wasn’t the way you would choose to work through your domestic frustrations,” Frank adds conversationally as they stroll down the clinically white hallway, heading for the parking garage.Kevin clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment.“Is that a fat joke? Really?”Franky barks out a laugh, though it’s not his usual one. Not the one he gives when Pierre is around, or when he is with the new kids, giving them pointers on how not to get gutted by a shady promoter. This laugh has a bite to it, and the smile that he gives Kevin is all incisors and glinting slate eyes.Kevin finds that he likes this one better than Franky’s usual blustering goofiness.(feels more real)-dangerous-(exactly)“Yes, Steen, I was making a fat joke. Obviously. I wasn’t at all insinuating that I think you handle your problems poorly. I most definitely wasn’t suggesting that you have very personal, intimate issues with a certain someone, and that the best way to solve intimate issues, is with some up-close-and-personal intimacy.”(...whatever the fuck that means)-oh my fucking god-“Sure. Whatever. I handle my problems my way, you handle yours your own way,” Kevin says, with perhaps a bit more aggression than he intends. Franky raises his hands, laughing as he surrenders, but a though occurs to Kevin, and he is blurting it out before he can stop himself.“Wait. What does any of that have to do with working out?” Kevin asks, genuinely confused.Kevin turns a glare on Franky, when the other wrestler’s response is a long winded, long suffering sigh. Franky weathers the dirty look, replying with a somewhat dry smile.“What does working through excess aggression have to do with working out? Is that what you are asking me?” Franky says, tilting his head to the side, staring strait ahead, a little lip quirk the only clue that Kevin is being ad fun of.Still, Kevin is mildly befuddled.(why does he always have to speak in riddles?)“Yeah. I don’t get what the fuck you are going on about. I don’t have any kind of aggression problem,” Kevin studiously ignores the loud, derisive snort that that statement earns him, “I don’t have any particular aggression directed at any one person either, so I don’t even get where you are coming up with any of this horseshit-”-really?--the broken pieces of your caller id would like a word with you-(different)-it is not--at all-“I mean, unless you count-”Kevin cuts himself off, biting his lips and shooting a glare down at the smudges of blood now dotting his hand.(fuck)-simple solution-“I don’t fucking see how working out is going to help with... that. I mean, your idea was dumb anyway, because any aggression I have gets dealt with on the regular when I kick the asses of you and your bitch friends so-”(ah)-idiot-Kevin inhales roughly against the surge of adrenaline and -want- that courses through him at the though. Licking his lips, he takes far too many long strides down the hall, his vision almost tunneling on the exit in his haste. Belatedly, he waves a hand over his shoulder at Franky before streaking off, his earlier surliness and complaining muscles forgotten.“Maybe your idea aren’t so bad. See you, Franky. I need to go talk to G.”“So you decided to fight the scrawny kid after all eh?”Kevin rolls his shoulders, inhaling roughly through all the snide retorts that threaten to choke the air from his lungs.“Yes. I literally just told you this. Is your champions choice of opponents a problem?” Kevin bites out, taping his boot against the solid concrete floor.Gino makes a harsh sound in the back of his throat, that Kevin realizes after a moment, is him laughing.“Not at all. I’d say it’s about damn time, in fact.”Kevin cinches down his bootstraps a little harder than necessary, but says nothing, silently flexing his toes against the tingling sensation as he briefly cuts off his own circulation.G joins him in the silence for a few breaths, and Kevin doesn’t look up, just mops at the perspiration across the back of his neck with the towel sitting on top of his duffel and ignores the room at large.(stop fucking staring at me)“Well, I suppose it is good that you finally settled on someone.” Kevin snorts, detecting a hint of skepticism in Gino’s voice that makes his hackles rise.Kevin clamps his hand around the very end of the towel, pulling it from it’s perch around his shoulders. The fabric flops down harshly across his lap, making a muted thumping sound. He taps a finger against the slightly damp cloth, breathing in time with the bustle of the locker room around him.-fuck-“I’ll fight anyone and everyone.” Kevin growls, turning slightly, tossing the towel back down on the bench and taking up his tape.“Good. Then you won’t mind fighting Beef later tonight then.”Kevin freezes, his eyes automatically going to his bag. He can’t see it’s shiny plastic, but he knows the cursed thing is in there, with it’s several dozen unreturned calls to that one number.Kevin takes a breath, deliberately relaxing his suddenly tense muscles. He glances up at Gino, not trusting himself to say anything. Instead, he just shrugs, hoping for nonchalance, although the way his fingers curl around the tape in his hands until the roll bends tells him that maybe he is showing a bit more of his mind than he wants to.-want-(not the time)-always the time-(stop)-need-(that’s fucking great)(Beef gets to die later)(calm the fuck down)-not what we want-Kevin inhales, closing his eyes and lowering his head, grasping the tape between his fingers and rolling it around, taping his foot against the floor and focusing on the rhythm.“The little asshole has been bugging me all day for a match.” G goes on, like Kevin isn’t having a crisis of conscience right before his eyes.(not a crisis)-just get up and-(it is fine)Kevin rolls his shoulders, shaking his head to clear away the unnecessary thoughts. He leans back on the bench, planting one hand on his knee and tossing the tape once with his other hand. Looking up, he shoots G an smirk.“Sure thing boss. You want a bunch of dead wrestlers on your property, that is your own prerogative. You want me to kill both the little fuckers together or one at a time?” Kevin quips, tossing the tape up in the air once more. He watches it careen towards the ground snatching it out of the air at the last second. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he relents and pulls the very end of the tape up, slapping it against his skin and beginning to wind the material swiftly up his wrist.Not that it matters.Kevin gets his fingers around what he really wants one way or another.
10347330	Monster Lover Arlo	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Original Work", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Pastel Comma (Regina_Hark)", "chapters": "5/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-20T00:00:00", "words": "17,785", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Interspecies Sex, Interspecies Romance, Tentacle Sex, Consentacles, Tentacles on Male, Femdom, Gentle femdom, Praise Kink, Woman on Top, First Time, Shapeshifting, Sex Pollen, Pheromones, Scenting, Weird Biology, Breeding, Oviposition, Plant Girls, Monster Girls, Dom/sub Undertones, Monster sex, Video Game Mechanics, LitRPG, Predator/Prey, PWP, Explicit Sexual Content, Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/M, Multi, Other", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Arlo fights himself awake.There’s a sound. No… sounds. He sits up, trying to pick through the banging going on in the shop and the ruckus outside. What is that noise? It’s coming and going in a pattern. Far too organized to be random noises. Arlo groans. It would be so simple to turn over and ignore it. He groans again. Arlo rolls his shoulders and glances at his bedroom window. The glass is frosted over. White ice eating up the outside frame like he didn’t scrape it off hours before. Arlo snorts.This isn’t his fault.Uncle Visse must have forgotten to turn the heat on again.Arlo clicks his teeth.That is if the forgetful fart even remembered he had one.Living with Uncle Visse in town is beginning to be a real pain in his ass. Ever since his uncle came back and opened this potion shop, there has been nothing but trouble. Who sells rotten potions? Why would anyone want an empty bottle? Where was the value in taking in the junk adventurers dropped off?Arlo couldn’t begin to understand his uncle’s business sense.He just knows his parents expects him to keep the place from burning down. Impossible.Arlo yawns.His room in the shop is more or less the same like it would be on the farm. Four sturdy walls. A bed. A desk. A chair. He brings his eyes to glare at the desk. A stack of papers are there, their looming white sheets threatening him with paper cuts from afar. In Uncle Visse’s words, the man is more of a ‘big picture’ guy. He couldn’t be bothered to go through the bills or item inventory or shipping inbox. So all of those responsibilities landed in Arlo's unwilling lap.The bastard should be grateful Arlo finished with his schooling a year ago or they’d both be in trouble.Arlo drags a hand through his brown hair. He should go find out what’s making the noise. Either in the shop or outside. Arlo glances at the window again. He can’t see anything definite through the creeping ice but there are some odd colors being flashed back and forth. Black smog. Reddish mist floating on the lazy winter wind.The old shop creaks.Did he really, really want to know?He’ll be obligated to do something about it as the shop’s only employee.Arlo swings his legs over to the side. Regrets it. His bare feet meet agony in the form of a messy bedroom floor. The freezing hardwood stabs into his soles and he’s off, grabbing yesterday’s clothes hanging on the chair and runs out of the room. With spring just around the corner, he’s gotten ahead of himself when it comes to sleepwear. At the farmhouse, he’d never rush around in nothing but a pair of boxers. The Brey farmstead had too many nosy visitors for that laid back lifestyle to fly.With a long winter this year, he’s gotten paler than usual. White skin almost ash pale.But with the list of duties choking his free time, he’s hasn’t gotten any less fit. He shuffles down the hall, regretting each step. This time, he’ll lose his toes, he’s sure of it. He slides on his gray tunic and black slacks. The extra layer of fabric warms him up but his feet are still suffering.Passing the stairs heading down, Arlo reaches the heat switch.He fiddles with the knobs and the large magic gear that controls all of the magic wards in the building. The warming ward is switched on. All of the pipes of the potion shop rattle, creaking through the old frame. Arlo rubs his hands together. Finally, the heat begins to rise. Warmth grows through the hardwood floors, toasting his feet nicely.Arlo breathes a sigh of relief. Wiggles his toes.Great.He still has all ten.Arlo looks towards the stairs’ railing. The light’s on downstairs. Arlo groans. He isn’t just a shop employee. He’s also an uncle babysitter. It really is a shame that the shop isn’t in more capable hands. Uncle Visse went to all the trouble to refurbish the old storehouse into a new potion shop and he’s never going to run it right. Arlo knows his M.O. Visse buys a place. Loads up on all the junk he could get his hands on. Then runs before the Royal Contraband Committee could get their hands on him.Supposedly, Uncle Visse paid his debts to society after his last con.But if that’s the case, why did Arlo have to forge all the legal documents to a Mister Viktor?The banging below his feet gets louder and he rolls his eyes. Either its his uncle trying to offload some bad merchandise to a pack of tourists or it’s a band of adventurers that couldn’t read the sign, “We’re Closed.” Knowing Visse, it’s probably both. But he has to go and check to be sure. Don’t blame the cat for what the dog brought home and all that.Arlo carries on to the end of the hall.His uncle’s room sits next to the bathroom. Arlo would have been a little jealous if he didn’t know what the scientist likes to brew in the tub. He knocks politely. “Uncle. Uncle?” Then outright kicks the door open. He used to be a politer person, he swears. It’s just the faster Arlo can get Visse to double think about recreating a mage’s explosion spell in the shop, the less likely they won’t die... That day.“Spirits, why can’t you ever air out your room?”Arlo does not step inside. Having to wash his clothing daily from the potion fumes is already too much washing in his opinion. It doesn’t matter. The sour stench of a cauldron’s crust and chemical salt greet him like an old enemy. He bats them away as best he can. Ugh, how can his uncle stand this? Arlo’s eyes roam the stale room. It matches his uncle’s personality pretty well. There’s a cot and nothing else that could be considered normal. Uncle Visse has several portable cauldron set up in his room. They’re apparently for his personal experiments. Other than that, the room is packed to the ceiling with reference guides and books on local flora and fauna.He closes the door and heads down the hallway.According to his poor nose, Uncle Visse hasn’t been up here for a few hours. Weird. There’s never an old smell in his uncle’s room. Visse usually leaves a cauldron on to boil for a few hours.Arlo heads to the railing and follows it down to the start of the staircase. He really, really, doesn’t want to think of what it could be. A pack of adventurers wanting a refund. Traveling thieves puking their guts out by the register. His uncle blackmailing the local priestess into drinking his latest batch of poison.He groans and makes his way down.Why didn’t he just go back to bed? His parents raised him too well.Now on the first floor, Arlo finds what he expected. Trouble. His uncle isn’t here and everything that should’ve been nailed down is everywhere. The front door is ajar. He sees on the street people running back and forth, chased by creatures made from that blackish fog.But more than that, where’s the broom?Almost all of the display merchandise is broken and on the floor, staining the rugs meant to brighten up the old place. Chairs are broken. Sofas have been thrown. The cash register is still in one piece, thank Aulra, but how the hell is he suppose to…“Hey! Arlo! What are you doing?”The voice catches him off guard. He’s moving over to the counter and is counting the number of rotten potions they have on sell. Maybe he could tell his uncle they were also destroyed by mysterious raiders. Shamelessly, he uncorks one and starts pouring it on the floor. He’ll have to mop tomorrow anyway.Arlo looks up.“We’re under attack?” he reasons. “Smog creatures are attacking the village.”Arlo knows the face.It’s… Minra. The girl who works at the cafe shop. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Three sisters.She looks over her shoulder before she looks back at him.“You’re taking this awfully well.”“We got picked for the annual monster raid, right?" he says, confused by the look she's giving him. Was he growing horns or something? She's waiting for him to say something so he continues, blabbing. "Uhh, the kingdom sent its knights to chase all their monsters into a village for both training and exterminating purposes. They got to learn how to fight around civilians and we get the leftovers of the monsters.”Arlo thinks for a moment.“I’m not really interested in participating if that's what you're looking for. I’ll wait it out here. You guys have fun with your screaming fest.”“Is that what you think is happening?”Arlo shrugs.“Yeah.”Monster raids has never been his thing.Even when he was a kid, he was never interested in them. Monsters show up one day and villagers are stuck cleaning up the next two weeks. Monster raids might be fun for the folks who got to run around like clueless villagers for the knights. But for everyone else, it’s extra chores. Plus, the knights draw even more monsters around. It is not fun to be out the house when that happens. Tripping over a fucking slime because so idiot knight decided to get drunk on the sidewalk.But he’ll admit, he’s a little surprised. Wasn’t the village by the mountain suppose to handle the monster raid this month?Minra takes a deep breath. “We’re under attack.”"Okay. I think I said that a while ago.""No." she shakes her head. "There are monsters attacking the village with the intent of attacking the village.""Now I'm just more confused. Isn't that what's suppose to happen?""It's not my fault that you don't understand." Minra gestures to the others in the streets. "Why is everyone I'm warning like this! The monsters are going into the houses!"What?"Are you playing a joke, Minra? We went to school together. You know well enough that monsters can't enter human houses."Even if the monsters broke past the ward stones that surround the village, they couldn't enter human homes in a humanized zone. Natural magic and all that. It’s the same reason why we can’t invade monster dens in a monster-controlled zone. Even if there’s a huge horde of monsters passing through, they’d need to go out of their way to break every single stone and-“You’re not getting it. We’re, I repeat, under attack. It’s a boss monster! The wards stone are-”One of the smog monsters swoop around Minra, stealing her breath. She briefly struggles before her eyes go blank and she smiles, drooling. Arlo takes a step forward. “Minra?” The girl sways from side to side, that smog substance sticking to her clothing. Plant roots rise up from the ground. Leaf skin stretches out from each root and with them, Minra is captured in a monstrous bud. The plant prison glows and he can see her outline being dragged into the earth.Arlo moves to the front door and looks outside.“W-what?!”Roots and vines are growing over main street, diving in and out of homes. It’s gathering the people. Putting them inside of plant buds and delivering them to where all the vines are growing from. Arlo lifts up his head. A boss monster. A horrific plant creature sits onto of the town’s hall, bloated and disfigured from the eyes and black bulbs growing out its massive face. The bulbs shudder. Their dust falls and transforms into more of those smog creatures.Arlo takes another good look at it.It’s still there. Massive. Disgusting. Human-eating.Only adventurers could take something like that down.“I’m going back to bed.”Arlo goes to step back inside and a smog creature flies straight for him. He manages to shut the door in time and backs away. The potion shop creaks and groans. White sparks pop and flash against the walls. It couldn’t be… Not the house wards. No monster cares beyond the village wards. They’d never go after the house ones. The entire structure roars and the white sparks grow into a burning flame. Then it goes out. Forever. The smog creature slips through the cracks of the door. Unharmed. Not repelled by the magic that should be working.In front of his eyes, the potion shop reveal the stats of the invader.[Warning! Warning! Warning!][A hostile monster has entered the shop.] [SPAWN] Pollen Phantom Alraune [LVL]: 53 [Species]: Monster [Race]: Plant/Specter [HP]: 5000/5000 (+5000/sec) [MP]: 3000/3000 Arlo stares a little blankly.“I have impressive stats too,” he mumbles with Lady Death hovering in his doorway. “Err, shop?” [Villager] Arlo Brey [LVL]: Undefined [Species]: Human [Race]: Non-Participation Character (NPC) [HP]: 100/100 [MP]: 10/10 “I don’t want to have to hurt you?”Here ends the short life of Arlo Brey, dead man. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- In front of Arlo’s eyes, the potion shop scans and reveals the stats of the invader. A transparent screen forms over the creature’s head and upon its crystalline panel, names appear and numbers are calculating. Measuring the creature’s killing intent and murderous resistance to a horrifying degree. There’s no way he can take it on. Arlo blanches and back into the counter. It’s all he’s allowed to do now as a [Villager].This defense mechanism isn’t for him, a villager, but for the adventurer that will come by. Eventually.[Emergency! Emergency! Emergency!][A hostile creature has invaded the potion shop.]What little energy of the house wards that is left is being directed to the outside. Likely creating a quest marker for any adventurers that might wandering outside. Arlo glances to the door. This couldn’t be happening. As a villager, he only has two choices. If his heath level is lower than the invading monster, he can attempt to run and hide. If his heath level is higher, then he must attempt to fend it off. Crap.The creature’s stat screen is finished. [SPAWN] Pollen Phantom Alraune [LVL]: 53 [Species]: Monster [Race]: Plant/Specter [HP]: 5000/5000 (+5000/sec) [MP]: 3000/3000 Monster Note: Despite its nature-based origin, the Pollen Phantom Alraune is more ghost than plant. With the ability to reform itself from the pollen in the air, the monster is near invulnerable to most physical and magical attacks. Using holy blessed weapons and skills is highly recommended.Arlo stares a little blankly.The pollen phantom is reforming itself inside of the shop. No longer is a shapeless mass of death and night, black smog mixing with red smoke. It grows a woman’s shape. It or rather, she, floats closer to the ground. He marvels at her.Her cloud-like form drifts gently in an unseen wind. Skin as black as midnight.The red smoke that followed her dark figure is transformed.Her hair is a red as a rose, falling over her small shoulders in thick, flowery ringlets. She looks like a princess outside of a picture book. Regal and unknowable. Her eyes are open, pupil-less red things. Within them, he sees nothing but instinct and violence. Beyond that, her body is beautiful. Voluptuous. Large nipple-less breasts sit on her shadowy figure. Thick hips leading to misty lower legs and little else. She doesn’t have feet. He supposes that she doesn’t need them with the ability to fly as she likes.“I have impressive stats too,” Arlo mumbles, “Err, shop?”He already knows he doesn’t. What could a villager do against a spawn of a boss monster? It’s only a distraction while he plots his path of escape. She registers his words. The pollen phantom turns to his direction with her unblinking gaze and alien face. Again, he marvels at her. She’s gone out her way and formed some ears to go along with her female form. He thinks a phantom creature wouldn’t need them.The potion shop goes along with his farce. [Villager] Arlo Brey [LVL]: Undefined [Species]: Human [Race]: Non-Participating Character (NPC) [HP]: 100/100 [MP]: 10/10 Monster Note: A common variety of human prey. Villagers gather together to make a stronghold called a [Village]. Inside a [Village], the human prey can create weapons and healing areas for stronger humans such as [Adventurer] or [Knight]. Strong in a group, they are weak alone. Kill slowly to preserve the meat. They rot quickly.Gee, thanks shop.Arlo holds his hands up. Maybe he could talk his way out of this?“If you leave now, I won’t hurt you?”The pollen phantom only drifts closer.Arlo sighs. It was worth a shot.He runs. The pollen phantom is quick to follow. On his way, he scoops up a couple of rotten potions. If physical and magical attack don’t work, how about some stat debuffs? He aim and throws. The bottles sail harmlessly through the phantom’s form. They smash on the floor, leaving only shards and poisoned wood.[Physical and Magical attacks are ineffective at this time.]Right…Throwing something still counted as a physical attack, didn’t it?Arlo uncorks a bottle and throws the liquid towards her. Yes! Direct hit! The rotten potion splashes onto her form and she absorbs it much a cloud does to water. Arlo glances at her status bar.[Updating Hostile Monster’s Status.] [SPAWN] Pollen Phantom Alraune [HP] 5100/5000 (+5000/sec) [MP]: 3000 [Current Status]: Poisoned (Poison debuffs heal plant-based monsters) “You said she was more specter than plant, shop!”Arlo carries on, dropping his load of poisoned potions. There has to be something in the shop he can use. He goes for the antidotes, the copper needles, magick fragments his uncle bought off morons. The antidotes fail. The copper needles fly and hit the walls. And the magick frags… Well…[You do not have the required Magic Intelligence (Mu Int) for this action.]“Seriously! They’re my rocks. You don’t have the right to tell me I can’t cast a simple fire spell.”[You do not have the required general Intelligence (Int) for this action]“Are you calling me stupid? I feel that you’re calling me stupid. Who let the monster in here? It wasn’t me.”Arlo finds himself at the feet of the stairs. Fuck. Upstairs or downstairs? There’s no easy way down from the second floor beyond the stairs behind him. But does he even want to go through the back and into the streets? There has to be more of these pollen phantoms out there. The noise outside hasn’t stop. In fact, it sounds even louder. Just where were they? The knights. The adventurers. The hero candidates. Monster raids weren’t supposed to happen like this. Arlo takes a second too long.The pollen phantom sweeps around him, engulfing him into her form.What is this?[Villager under attack!][20 out of 100 hp lost.]He’s inside of her cloud-like mass, face buried inside of her marshmallow tits. It’s strange to both feel the sensation of flesh while falling through it. She’s warm. Soft even. Something grips his throat and he’s forced to open his mouth. Breathe. Breathe! He gasps and inhales. She’s pushing herself inside of him. Choking him with her pollen body. Everything’s going blurry and bright. The shapes of things fading out of focus as the pollen pours into his mouth and nose. So sweet. So relaxing. Giving in.She’s embracing him, cooing like the monster she is. Her breasts moving to cover his face.Was this fun for her? Suffocating humans to death?[40 out of 100 hp lost.]Arlo struggles. His vision is growing weak. It’s hard to pull away. It’s hard to even want to pull away. He starts to drool. He can taste her. On his tongue, pollen and sugar gather. The saliva drips down his chin and the pollen phantom tilts his face up. She kisses him. Her darkest pollen rushes in. He swallows it down, light-headed. Is he floating? It feels like he drifting further and further away.Everything’s so fuzzy…[60 out of 100 hp lost.]What are these soft things around his head? They’re so jiggly. He weakly lifts his arms up, groping against them. Her breasts bounce against his palms. They’re so big and foamy. Like whipped cream in a cup of ice cream. He squishes their misty form, the breasts forming and reforming around his fingers.The pollen phantom squeaks. The first sound he’s heard from her all this time. It sounds... cute.Arlo blink his bleary eyes and pulls back his hands.There’s no need to make a fuss now. He’s as good as dead.[80 out of 100 hp lost]The pollen phantom grabs his hand and pulls it back to her chest. Their fingers entwined, she drags his palm over her breast. Huh? She wants him to touch her? The texture of her hand changes every second. It’s there and then’s it not. It reminds of steam rising from a fresh cup of tea.He indulges her.Arlo rubs his hand over her breast, squeezing and groping it. The pollen phantom leans closer in. His fingers circle where her nipple would be, pinching the smooth cloud-flesh. She’s louder. The sound isn’t coming from her mouth. It emanates from all of her. He guess it has to do with a fact that she’s a living cloud. She rubs the whole of her body against him, squeaking and squirming.The pollen phantom moves her hand to his tunic, tugging on the low collar.She’s pulling it down, exposing his chest. What did she- Her misty hands rub against his nipple, teasing it into hardness. He take a sharp intake. The pollen phantom stiffens at that. Why? He accidentally takes more of her in. His lungs tickle. Itch. But the monster, she’s acting different. Now hardened, she rubs her thumb against it. Grinding with purpose. He tries to push away from her. This is getting weird-She pinches his nipple.“Ah~”His earlobes are burning. He can feel his blush spread through his cheeks before sweeping down. He’s always been an awful blusher. Arlo averts his eyes. Men weren’t suppose to sound so silly… He’s twenty-one for goodness’ sake. A farm boy now shop assistant. He could count one hand on how often he made those weird and wrong sounds. His face feels even hotter. Igniting. He fidgets.The pollen phantom studies him. For what reason, he’ll never understand.She breathes on him. Watching how he begins to fidget even more. Couldn’t she just end this and save him from the shame? He looks up into the crimson void of her eye-sockets and tries to will his embarrassment away. She’s a monster. A human-eating monster. There is nothing here for him to be blushing about. Nipples or otherwise.The pollen phantom condenses her shape, solidifying as much as her misty form could.His head no longer is caught between her see-through breasts but mounds of a firm form. Her round breasts dangle over him as she explores his clothing. Her hands pulling and plucking at his tunic. Arlo supposing she wouldn’t know much about the concept of clothing and modesty. She murmurs at him. Her voice wispy and light like a conversation held in another room. He can’t decipher any words in them.But her tone…She sounds curious. Wanting.The pollen phantom goes to his loose collar.Her hands circle the visible strip of bare flesh, warm air brushing against his collarbone and neck. Her breasts press even harder against the back of his nape. Back and forth. If the monster been an ordinary girl, he’d swear she was trying to grind against him.She moves to grabbing his collar and pulls the tunic around his shoulders.Arlo grabs at his shirt and the pollen phantom laughs, her voice like a lingering echo in an empty house. He blushes. Again. Just what is this new air around them? Weren’t they enemies? Weren’t they monster and prey? Just where did she get off on stringing him along like this. The pollen phantom gropes his flat chest. Her fingers striding across his vulnerable skin.Despite having no pupils, he’s beginning to see the changes in her motion-less face.How a little spark appears when he fidgets from her touch. How she’s imitating him, breath to breath.It’s… confusing.The pollen phantom hones in on his nipples, playing and teasing them into hardness. They grow more sensitive. Their peach color turning red from her fun. He pants. His breath growing quick and fast. Was this her way of getting back at him from earlier? She couldn’t actually be interested in him in ‘that’ way.Arlo bites his lip, trying to slow his breathing down.Why couldn’t she let him die in peace?A pressure grows around his throat and his mouth falls open.Those lewd sounds. He can’t stop them from escaping. It must be the pollen. It must be the low hp messing with his head. All of the blood that should be in his head is heading south. He widens his stance. Suddenly, his boxers are pretty uncomfortable around his stiffening cock.The pollen phantom finishes with his nipples and pushes herself over him, looking at his face.“What?” he coughs. “What do you want?”She touches his face, fingers dragging across the redden skin and touch his lips. Her mouth opens. “Ah~” She’s somehow plays back his own voice. That sound. That embarrassing sound. He looks away. Tries to at least. She follow him, moving her head to block anything else that isn’t her face or form.The pollen phantom makes that sound again.Arlo cringes.“Ah?”The pollen phantom smiles. Nods and gestures at him.“Ah?” he repeats.There.Is she happy?She makes a breathing motion. Her breasts bob and grow, inflating with the influx of air.Okay…Arlo breathes like he did before. Deep. Flighty. Embarrassingly. “Ah~” he moans for her. [100 out of 100 hp lost.] [Villager has died.] [Quest Failed!] [Spawn to Boss Monster link disconnected!][Monster Evolution in 3… 2… 1…]...…...[Reassessing previous stats...][Nature’s tear activated!][Heath Restored: 100/100]………[Redefining Quest’s Parameters…][????][Accept: Yes/No?] Black pollen is being coaxed from his body. Each inhale and exhale taking away the burden of his strained lungs. With the chance of life in its grasp, his corpse entraps his ghostly form. The balls of light drop back onto the corpse and is absorbed back inside. Wait- Wait! He’d accepted death!In the darkness as he’s being dragged back, Arlo sees something of an angel shrugging her shoulders.“And I was looking forward to finally get my hands on a good quality soul. Buh-bye til later, kid.”His corpse and his conciseness join together. Arlo’s senses rush back in. It’s overwhelming. Terrifying. But there’s this soft mouth on his. Plump and perfect. It moves his lips for him, aiding the process of purifying his lungs. Weakly, Arlo grabs onto their shoulders. Digs in. His lungs begin to move.Arlo breathes.“I did it,” the voice says and the mouth kisses him. “I brought you back!”Vision returns to his opened eyes. He blinks and concentrates on the blob in front of his face.There’s a… girl? She’s resting onto of his chest. Hands pressing against his torso, pumping.Arlo’s sight clears up and the first thing he notices is that she’s naked.[Supreme Rare Chance! Acquired new title and job class: Demon Lord Candidate!][Associated skills and traits are as followed:]Monster AllureMonster Language Knowledge: Plant-beastMonster Thrall ResistanceDungeon Core lvl 1???? ???? ????[Do you accept?: Yes/No?].........[Redefining Villager's Attributes...].........[Update done!][Welcome, Villager (DLC) Arlo!] ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Arlo’s sight clears up and the first thing he notices is that the plant girl is naked.Looking at the strange girl, it’s easy to see that she’s not human. Her skin is a dead giveaway. It’s green like grass and is far smoother than it should be. He feels her hands and fingers on his chest. There’s not a wrinkle or a palm’s fleshy pad on them. They feel soft in a different way. Like moss growing on a river rock.The plant girl’s hair drapes over her shoulders.Just like her hands, it’s textured oddly. Instead of strands, her hair is like a daffodil’s petals. Sun-yellow. Her bangs crown her green cheeks while her back is pinned up in a ponytail. He glances further up. There’s a large pink bud sitting on her head. Arlo would have guessed it was a decoration if it didn’t move and breathe like a second mouth. The flower bud moves independently of the girl. Swaying.“I’m glad you’re alright.”Her mouth moves but the sound isn’t coming from there. It’s the bud and the voice echoes through her body.“Thanks?” Arlo responds. “And what happened to the pollen phantom? She was-”The bud turns blue and pops open, flustered“We were her,” it or she stutters. “I was we. She was we.” she drops her head into her hands. “It’s so hard to explain. When I say we, I mean WE. The other pollen phantoms and our true body, Spore. We were many and everything and all. But when you died, we didn’t care. We were capturing humans for our master. But I cared. I tasted your breath. I knew your touch. I wanted you back.”Overhead, he sees her status bar. It looks kinda glitched out. Did something happen after he died? [V?ll?g?r] Phantom Alraune [LVL]: 1 [HP]: Undefined [MP]: Undefined [Current Status]: Normal [EXP to next Level]: 100 Monster Note: Unusual to be found outside of monster-controlled areas, this alraune is a [V?ll?g?r]. Unlike their human counterparts, monster villagers are vicious alone and weak in a pack. Emotional states can be heightened in groups so monsters that herd together tend to fear death much higher than your average human prey. In general, monsters have a natural tendency to be untrusting of fellow monsters when facing a enemy that threatens all of them.To ensure their survival, backstabbing and murder is to be expected.The status bar moves to another screen, showing her stats and skills. [V?ll?g?r] Phantom Alraune -Continued- [Base Stats] [ATK]: 20 [MAU ATK]: 40 [DEF]: 10 [MAU DEF]: 60 The plant girl lifts her head. [V?ll?g?r] Phantom Alraune -Continued II- [Attacks and Special Moves] [Nature's Tear]: Restores 100hp [Petal Parade]: Slices the foe with vicious petals. (Aero skill) [Vine Vice]: Strangles the foe with vines. (Earth skill) [Alraune's Kiss]: Poisons the foe with a random effect. [Phantom Fool]: Transforming technique. Can shift between solid and gas forms. Nullifies any stat debuff when used. Why is he seeing this?Arlo's pretty sure that only fellow party members could see deeper information about a person's base stats and attack moves. And isn't she supposed to be level 53? All of her special moves are level one and her base stats are looking very low. There's another screen but he avoids it. The plant girl is talking. Maybe he'll get some information straight for her?“So I think I made it happen. We were we. We had always been we. But I. I! We divided into I. I am. I am I. I am Alraune. Or is it... that I am an alraune named Alraune. It’s really, really confusing, I know, but I’m still adjusting. It’s strange being alone here. Everywhere. Before I was just Pollen Phantom Alraune D. The same as my sisters, A and B and C.”Alraune taps her flower bud.“Alright.” he says, gently. “So what do you plan to do now?”As Arlo asks this, he’s trying to avert his eyes. The pollen phantom might have been woman shaped earlier but it was as if she was wearing a skin-tight leather suit. This alraune on him is… well...She’s naked. And unfortunately, she’s also anatomy correct.Alraune is on his waist. Legs cocked open. Her thighs and ass press against his lower half, the rest of her hips and legs a mass of writhing roots. Exposed, he sees her parted pussy lips. Pink like a woman’s. Between them, a glossy sap-like fluid ooze into the fabric of his tunic. The warmth of it trickles down his hipbone and onto the floor. It smells too sweet. Fragrant and rich.Her breasts are much smaller. Flatter.A cord of ivy is woven around her delicate mounds. Pinkish nipples peaking through despite the ivy across them. She’s shapely too. Full around her hips and ass while the rest of her rail-thin, reed-like. There’s a scent waffling from her form. Spring-like. Vibrant and fresh. It’s relaxing and distracting.“Your eyes got so intense all of the sudden.” Alraune says, grinding her hips against him.Arlo groans. If she keeps doing that, he’ll-“It’s the roots, right? I had them tame right before you woke up.” Alraune closes her eyes. Her roots twist around each other and form into two pairs of human-like legs. It’s almost right except Alraune apparently didn’t understand why humans needed toes. “Is that better?”“Can you get off me?”She tilts her head.“Why? I like it here.”Alraune sits upright on him, her hips spreading even further.Arlo’s cock jumps at the sight of her pussy even more exposed.She’s so wet. Her pink folds are drenched, heavy droplets of sap wetting up her inner thighs. Her clit stand out, hard and stiff. He can see it swell as Alraune moves. He can’t help himself. His slacks are so tight. His mouth so dry.He wants to know what she tastes like.Could it be like honey, sticky and sweet? Or could it be sweeter, jam freshly made.His hips push upward before he can stop himself. Through his boxers and slacks, Arlo can feel the plump curve of her fertile rump. How her ass bounces from his thrust. Arlo’s hands find themselves griping her thick hips, cupping her plant flesh before he reaches her fat cheeks. He pulls them apart.“Human,” she moans, pushing her hips into his hands. “Humans and their love for dark and naughty places.”“Monster,” he replies, cheeky. “Monsters and their love of living in dark and naughty places.”“Alraune.”“Arlo.”Alraune meets his hands and guides them away. She sits firmer on him, pushing down with her hips.“You’re sprouting something for me, Arlo. I wanna make it grow nice and big for you. It’s the least I can do. Alraunes are shepherds of the forest for a reason, human! Let me help you.”What is she talkin-Alraune rubs her ass against his clothed cock. He can feel it rise for her, tenting through his slacks. Pushing back and forth, her pussy drizzles more of that sap. Her grind becomes slower and slicker as she rubs herself against him. He bites his lip, blushing. Why isn’t he saying anything? Why isn’t he pushing her off. Even if she looks like a girl, she’s still a monster.“Interesting! It’s growing really fast.” she praises. “Physical touch seems to be the right way to go.”“I-” Arlo starts.‘I don’t want this’, isn’t what he’s trying to say.“I-” Arlo tries again.‘I don’t think this is a good idea,’ isn’t something he wants to mention.Arlo looks over her again.She’s so cute.Alraune is blushing as hard as he is. Her cheeks growing blue and her breath ragged as she grinds. The ivy across her breasts is drooping, hanging closer to her taut and flat belly. Alraune’s small breasts are closer than they were before. Bud-like nipples waiting for be sucked and licked.It’s weird how he’s following her lead. How good it feels to let her take control.Maybe things would be different if he flipped the two of them over. It’s obvious she likes him. Would let him touch her and pull her legs apart. The alraune trapped under his stronger and heavier body. Unable to resist him as he fucks her into the ground. But she’s so much more attractive like this. A monster over her prey. It feels so good to just give in. To moan and spread for her. He wants-No!He can’t be rationalizing this! She’s a monster. A real life human-eating monster!Alraune rolls her hips, lifting and dropping herself over his bulge. The sticky sap is almost everywhere now. What little of it touches his skin sends his flesh on fire. He’s hot, desperate. His whole body twitches and throbs. The view of the outside world is beginning to blur. He can’t make out anything else but her doing her best. Alraune riding him into orgasm. He’s becoming her toy. A living dildo.“Ah, it moved. That thing between your legs moved, Arlo. Will you move it for me again?”Her words… They seep into his skull even though he knows she probably didn’t mean to issue an order to him. And yet… It feels good to have them. He wants to please her, satisfy her, breed her into submission. Arlo obeys. He cants his hips upwards, driving them into hers. His cock is fully hard. The thickness of it an outline in his slacks. White pre-cum staining the front. Alraune glance down, her skin more sensitive to changes in her environment than his. Her skin absorbs his cum.“Nectar,” she says, blushing even harder. “You’re making nectar for me, Arlo! It’s so delicious.”“It’s just cum.”Alraune smiles. “It’s more like yum,” she says, smacking her lips. “I want more. Can I?”“Sure?”Alraune pushes his tunic up and her legs fall into roots once more. The roots wrap themselves around his slacks and boxers, pulls them down. His wet cock pushes up, free. It salutes the green girl and weeps a dribble of white cream. She turns around and moons him by accident, her ass and pussy right in front of him. Her warmth and scent intoxicating him. He can feel her breath on his cockhead, her lips hovering right over the runny slit.“Mmmh, looks just like a mushroom. I wonder if it will have the same taste as well.”Alraune licks the crown of his cock, lapping all the spilled cum. His hips buck up and she holds him down. “W-wait,” she says, breathless. She licks downward, lips brushing against his length. Arlo groans. His lungs hurt. The pleasure and the swell of his cock, it’s almost too much. Alraune keeps on lapping, her sap-drool coating his shaft. The plant fluid sinking in, causing the skin to tighten and fatten up.She reaches his balls and kisses them, her nose brushing against the light coating of hair.“I wonder what these are. Fruit sacks? If I squeeze them, will something shoot out your pretty stem?”With her hands, she fondles Arlo’s balls. Stroking them and running the tips of her nail-less fingers over them. They grow fatter and churn, his seed pooling inside the meaty orbs. Alraune moves her mouth over his cock once more. She drools on it. Her sap tingling and hot. Arlo’s hips buck again and this time, she lets him. He pushes up and into her waiting mouth, Alraune making an erotic “Oof!”Arlo groans. The heat of her mouth and the feel of her around his cock. He groans again.Alraune’s ass wiggles in his face. Her fertile hips spread and her pussy soaked and teasing. He moves to rest on his elbows and buries himself between her cheeks. They’re so plump and firm. He licks her pussy, slurping up her sweet essence. It’s more delicious than he thinks. The taste of it is indescribable. His tongue wanders her pink folds, exploring and caressing all it could reach. Alraune shudders around him, her pussy shamelessly getting wetter and wetter. He pulls back and kisses her inner thighs.The skin his lips meet blush that curious blue, a sharp contrast to the green of the rest of her.Arlo lavishes her backside. Kissing and licking and biting her cheeks and hips. He leaves a trail of bright blue bite marks across her twin cheeks. Alraune pushes her thighs back, trying to direct him back to her pussy.Alraune outright smothers him.Her roots forcing his lower half to bend as she lifted herself to sit on his face.His legs dangle over her shoulders, feet kicking in air.Alraune bobs her head back and forth, drinking him down. Arlo is squished under her sweet ass and drooling pussy. Her sweet juices dribble all over his face, the heat and sap causing him to sweat and twitch. Every breath he takes, he gets more of her inside. He licks her clit, sucking on the pink bud. He flicks his tongue back and forth, Alraune grinding harder and harder on him. Her cheeks pillowing his face.Arlo’s tongue move to her entrance and he dips inside, tasting an even more sugary fluid.Alraune cries out, her hips trembling. The plant girl’s mouth squeezes around his cock, entrapping it in a vice-like grip. He shouts, trying to pull his hips and length out. She’ll crush him! Alraune’s roots slap his hanging balls. Striking against his nutsac until they sting, the seed inside them close to erupting out of him. She gets tighter and tighter around him. Almost as if she’s trying to suck his soul right out his cock.He can’t hold on-Arlo cums, his cock jerking off and squirting down a hot load of seed. His cum fills up her mouth and explodes out the sides, white cum running down her chest and breasts. Alraune pulls away and lets his still cumming cock rain on her. Cum spewing onto her face and hair. The white seed doesn’t last long. Her body absorbs it and turns even shinier as a result.“Yummy! Thanks for the drink, Arlo!” she giggles. “Are you liking yours?”“Mmmph!”Arlo couldn’t even understand himself with all the pussy in his mouth. He drives into her, licking at her inner walls. Gulping down her sap and sweetness with gusto. “Arlo...” The more he drinks, the more thirsty he gets. Alraune’s making so much and yet he needed more and more. His belly is begging to grow full, pudgy as he’s filled. Weird. Was she filling him up on purpose?“Arlo, you’re such a good human. Such a good man. Arlo, go deeper. Seed me. Fill me up with your dew.”That praise again.He can’t stand it. Arlo shivers, wanting to hear it again and again.The alraune moans for him, clinging to his folded half and rubbing her face into his softening cock.The idea of her face near his shaft is almost enough to make him get it up again. Or maybe that’s the sap. His cock is rising again, fattening up with blood and vigor. Alraune takes his cock into her breasts and drives it back and forth. The sensation of her slight mounds and those nipples of hers, it drives him wild. His feet arch and his cock oozes, pre-cum coming out even fiercer than before. Wait-He’s never made so much cum in his whole life!Is it the sap doing this, increasing his seed load?“You’re doing so well, Arlo. Take me all in. Please~”The cum rains down, painting Alraune in streaks of creamy white. The smell of himself takes to the air. Male musk and human scent rising and mixing with her feminine flowery aroma. The roots around his balls wrap around them, twining themselves around his base and milking him for more.“Make more for me, Arlo. I need more. I want more.”Before he felt like a living dildo but now he’s little more than a cum machine.“Arlo, release for me. Please. Give your nectar to me. Give it all to me.”The words themselves seemingly wrap around his cock, ushering him on. An invisible hand directing him not to fail her. Arlo’s hips thrust without reason or rhyme. He pushes himself against Alraune’s slender body. It’s all he needs. The way his cock simply hurts, swollen, squirting… he probably could have came from just her words alone. As it stands, his orgasm blurs and dizzies. A half-thought that is swept away under the need to please her.Arlo cums again but his breath does not ease nor his frantic thrust.His body curls against hers, desperately trying to reach back inside her once more. Her mouth. Her pussy. It doesn’t matter. He wants her inside him. He wants to be inside her. His thoughts are strange, scattered. His voice stranger, pleading. He can hardly recognize himself. The voice that is rising in his potion shop, moaning and light and flighty.The voice doesn’t sound girly, Arlo thinks.Just…. Just…He’s making sounds he thought he never could. Squirming gasps. Begging groans. It’s all too-The pleasure steamrolls over his arriving afterglow. His thoughts are leaving him. His sensitivity is sky-rocketing. He mindlessly begins to pleasure her. Licking and sucking swallowing down the juice that runs down from the sweetest place. Alraune's hips are beginning to leave him. She sharply turns as the pleasure begins to overtake her, he can tell. He chases them. Pushing his wet face between his folds and slurping her down. Not yet. Please, not yet. She can't leave him without him hearing her cries of want and need. Arlo's tongue returns to her clit and curls around it. He tugs lightly. Alraune's thighs kick and shudder, she becoming as much a toy for him as he is for her. This back-and-forth is delirious, spell-binding. He can feel her mouth move back onto his cock, lapping up his endless seed. He screams into her, the stimulation more than he can handle.“You’re doing so well, Arlo. You can take more, can’t you? Look how big you’re getting for me.”Alraune grinds and grinds.“More.” she commands, her voice high and beautiful and hers. He can’t disappoint her. “More!”His belly is getting bigger, fuller.Her inner walls clench around his tongue and she cums, spraying him with her sap. She cries out. Her climax sweeps through her, causing even the bud on her head to spew sap everywhere. Her body arches, shivers rake across her lewd cum-covered form. Alraune gently lowers his body to the ground. Her hands run over his swollen cock and his inner thighs. He can feel her eyes taking him in.She’s panting, swaying. Her voice cracks and she falls into wheezing, pollen-spreading gasps.Alraune pushes herself off his face and doesn’t make it far. She slips, her vines still and refusing to turn into legs for her to walk. She falls forward and she’s on display for him yet again. Her well-fucked pussy is still trickling sweetness, making a clear puddle on the floor. Her ass wags at him. Tempting him to crawl over.Arlo moves onto his hands and knees, moving towards her.Overhead, his status bar changes and reveals his current state. [Villager]: Arlo Brey [HP]: 1000/100 (due to [Aroused] state. +100/sec) [MP]: 1000/100 (due to [Intoxicated] state. +100/sec) [Current Status]: -Intoxicated (Alraune nectar can cause various stat debuffs such as [Aroused] and [Intoxicated] to human victims) -Aroused (Alraune nectar can cause various stat debuffs such as [Intoxicated] and [Aroused] to human victims) -Thralled (Alraune nectar consumed to near fatal amounts can lead to human victims to becoming slaves to the Alraune and those with access to the poison.) Alraune catches her breath.“I didn’t expect it to be so intense the first time,” she murmurs, “Did you?”Her roots shoot out, coiling and wrapping around him. She pulls him into her soft chest and it’s like this he notices that she’s a head or two shorter than him. Vines or not vines, she’s an average-sized girl if a little on the short and skinny side. Hips not factoring in.“No,” he says after a while. Dazed. “It was my first time too.”And despite her being the short one, Alraune makes him the little spoon.She wraps them together.Alraune curls around his exhausted form. Her body faintly warm and the calming scent of her aiding his lazy drift back into slumber land. Her petal-like bangs brush against his forehead. Her breath, slow and slight, meets the back of his neck. It’s comforting. Strange. His eyes fall halfway and stares at the floor for a while. Fending off sleep as his afterglow finally spills over him.The aches of his body fade into dull throbs and phantom pleasure.Her smaller roots rest against his lower legs. The thinner tips tickling his calf. Another vine outright strokes his hip and waist. It’s strange. He thinks, as a man, he should be doing this for her, touching and holder her, but he can’t bring himself to switch places. It’s nice. Here between her arms, under her and being held just like this.Arlo’s eyes are slowly beginning to close completely until he feels a sensation on his lips.He opens them.There’s a vine. It strokes his bottom lip. In a weird way, he thinks it’s trying to kiss him.“Alraune?”Her hands tighten around him.“I wanna go deeper inside you, Arlo. Just like before.”When she was a pollen phantom?“Why?”Alraune snuggles in between his shoulder blades.“When we became I, it is because I wanted to be we to you. If only for a moment. That’s how interesting and alluring you are, Arlo. I knew I had to have you for myself and that you’d have me.” her vines moves to grab his chin, stoking his neck. “I know it’s not the same with humans. You are all separate beings with separate lives. But I wanted to learn what made you touch me. I wanted it so bad that I killed you.”Huh?What is he suppose to say to that?“You’re not going to turn into pollen and suffocate me again, are you? I’m pretty sure if you killed me like that a second time, I won’t be able to come back.”Alraune shakes her head.“No! Nothing like that… I wanna mate like we alraune do. Push you to the ground and crawl inside your every hole, fill every part of you with me. That’s why I couldn’t help but be so wet earlier. I wanted to make you blossom. Grow so big and drunk off the taste of me. And look at you.” she pats his belly. “You took me in so well. You didn’t complain or anything.”“I-I liked it,” he says, awkwardly.“Most humans can’t survive even this part. You all perish after you have too much nectar to drink.” Well, isn’t that terrifying to hear? “Or turn into little rotten mandrakes under our thrall. You’re so different, Arlo. You make me want to care and clutch you. Maybe it’s because you’re a pervert.”Arlo stiffens. “I was not a pervert. I was suffering from oxygen depreciation.”“Most humans would have fought in that situation.” she pokes him with a finger. “You chose to grope instead. Can you see what I see?” Alraune’s hand crosses his shoulders and grabs his breast. “A imp of a human with a desire for fondling that defies even death!” her fingers roll over his nipple.Arlo’s breath speeds up. Suddenly, he wants her all over again.“You’re making me sound bad,” he whines. “It wasn’t like that. Kinda. It was a heat of a moment thing. You touched me too. You didn’t have to.”“I was only following your lead.”“And I was only following yours!”Alraune laughs, “But our bodies knew what we wanted. I like that. I like you. Is that okay?”Arlo blushes.“Of course, that’s okay. I like you too. For whatever that means in this situation." he blurts out, blushing even harder. Think! Think of something witty to say. "And you know if all of this means I’m a monster pervert... Doesn’t that make you a human molester?” Wait... That didn't sound very smart.Alraune pinches his nipple. He yelps and tries to squirm away. Her roots lock him in place.“O-of course not!”She weakly punches his shoulder.“I’m just a human lover and you, my human, are my monster lover. I’ll do my very best to ravish you.”Arlo lays against her chest, feeling her body breathe. He doesn't feel a heartbeat. That's okay. He has a heart big enough for the both of them."Sleep with me, okay?"The roots rise and stretch over them like a canopy. They fan out and expand into a leafy shell.Lust and want wars within him but Arlo knows it's him and not the nectar in his system when he says yes.Always."Yes." Dead men don't lie. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Arlo comes to in his ordinary bed, his ordinary room. It’s all the same. A desk. A chair. His stack of papers. And the very bed he’s laying on, the sheet riding low on his spread hips. Glancing down, he’s the same as ever. No bulging belly. No nectar staining his clothes and body. The stench of fresh sex that should be clinging to him isn’t there either. In fact, there little evidence to suggest it ever was there.He feels…Arlo pulls his legs to him. He must make a silly sight, resting his head on his knees.…not tired. Not aching from Alraune’s antics with his body.It’s almost as if that everything that happened before was just a strange fever dream.His bedroom sheets sling low across his jutting hips and pale thighs. He’s shirtless. Wearing nothing but his black boxers. The middle of them discolored from the pre-cum and his cock straining against the thin fabric. The memory of her, Alraune. It swirls into his head and invades his mind. She seems so real, so reachable. The taste of her. The feel of her body on top of his. Arlo shakes his head. He’s deluding himself. There’s no way in hell that he somehow managed to have sex with a monster girl.His cock says otherwise. It rises, swelling. A firm bulge growing between his legs.This is so embarrassing.He wasn’t some loser that couldn’t just get off from the pleasure of jerking without an imaginary gal. He didn’t need a name. He didn’t need a face. Sex is... just sex. Sensations. Flesh touching flesh until he can’t think but groan in pleasure. But he wants to. He wants to put his hand around his dick and imagine he’s plunging inside of her. Her hands resting on his shoulders. Her moans in the air. His name on her lips.Arlo pushes his legs out and tries to sit up.Keyword: tries.The headboard creaks when he moves his arms. Wrists bound.He hadn’t realized it but he’s been tied to the headboard. A green ribbon looping around his wrists to a bar. When did he do ‘that’ to himself? Arlo yanks his wrists forward. The headboard groans but refuses to budge. He tries again, bringing his shoulders into the mix. They collide. The headboard doesn’t give.His sheets fall further down his thighs and Arlo couldn’t help but notice how this looks.He’s trapped. Vulnerable.His legs wide. The bulge of his cock at full mast. His boxers hanging low on his hips.“Alraune? Are you here?”He glances up and stares, when did she- Vines and roots are weaving across his bedroom’s ceiling. Green cords occupying most of the dark space and light fixture, vines weaving even into the cracks, forcing themselves further in. The room groans from the invasion, the dust risen from the old wood.A single hanging vine whirls its way down from the others.The vine feathers across his face. Its tip ending in a narrow bud, petals pulled tightly together. It caresses one cheek, two, and then it goes down his chest. The petals open and pollen spills out, sprinkling his torso in gold-like dust. It tickles. The pollen sits on his skin and he renews his struggles.Arlo doesn’t know what’s going on but this seems like step one in the human eating process. Season the meat.The vine flicks itself across his waist and then down to his hips, sweeping over the bit of flesh bared between his boxers and the sheets. Spirits, just the hint of a touch coming its way and his cock can’t stand it. It stands even harder, balls aching for some direct stimulation. The vine rubs itself against his inner thighs, his weak flesh. The sensation of it being touched and teased. He struggles even more. Flailing. Squirming. The ribbon around his wrists never moves. The softness of the restraint reminding him of who he has to blame for this.Arlo turns his head. His mouth refuses to be still. It’s falling open and he’s breathing hard. Already, he's worked up.The vine uses its bud. Peels back its petals to stroke his skin. They’re soft. Feather-like. They work together and pinches his skin gently. He gasps. They swoop across the valley of reddening flesh and flexing knees, brushing across with care and intent. Arlo scoots his hips further, aiming his middle in their flight path. The vine merely circles his boxers and cock. It drags itself along them, digging deep and pulling the boxer’s fabric as it goes.“A-Alraune!”The vine tiptoes to his boxer’s waistband and drapes its petals over it, tugging down the pair inch by inch. It’s so slow that Arlo both sweats and shivers. The heat of knowing he’ll be exposed for Alraune’s pleasure and the chill of doing so naked in bed. The boxers are pulled over his cock and his member springs free. It’s a shameless thing. Pink and thick, cum pearling on the tip. It twitches, hard.Arlo thinks the vine will busy itself with his exposed shaft but it doesn’t.It continues on its way. His boxers dragged away from his blushing legs and flexed feet. At the end, the vine throws his boxers away into the dark. He thinks he should hear a thump from the floor but instead he’s hears a flop. He glances sideways. The room is dark. The light is off.All Arlo has to see is with the faint streetlight under the wintry window. Dim starlight.He squints.His floor is messy. It comes from more or less having his own space in the shop but it’s messier than usual. He thinks he sees sheets. More sheets. Comforters. Blankets. Thicker covers. They’re from the storage room, right? For the few occasions he and Uncle Visse sell camping sets for adventurers looking to hunt in Elmgrass Grove.Why was it here? Did Alraune take it on purpose? What need could she have for-The vine trails itself up his leg.Arlo’s rambling thoughts go to the wayside. His heartbeat quickens. The vine catches his attention, his clumsy scattered thoughts. He tries to re-imagine it as a hand or an arm but he can’t banish the image or feelings it invokes in him as it is: A vine. A limb of a monster. A thing that prey upon mortal men like him.Sweat breaks out across his body but it isn’t the sort formed by fear.He’s longing for it like an animal in heat. As it is, unchanged: A vine. An interesting part of Alraune.When the plant girl was woman-shaped, Arlo thinks he was attracted to her feminine shape. He on the floor of his ruined shop keeping his eyes on the parts of her that looked human. Her face. Her breasts. Her hips. But when he runs his mind over what happened earlier… Arlo remembers the touch of her inhuman hands. Nail-less fingers. Feet without toes. Legs that came apart whenever Alraune is distracted.This attraction he feels… is it only a result of the [Aroused] state her nectar gave him?Or is it something else?He hasn’t been repelled by the green of her skin. The petals that make up her hair. The feel of her skin. And the way she looks at him, speaks to him, touches him. This has to be just infatuation. They didn’t know each other. Not really. He wonders it if is his submission to her and death that attracts her. The way he reaches for her earlier in the night and then how now he responds to her touch of his body.Then those stranger moments of her playing with his nipples and entrapping him around her breasts.The vine brushes against his exposed skin, dusting it in more pollen. Then it wraps itself around his shaft. Winding around his cock in three lazy loops. The vine’s mass is thickening, encasing his member with its wider form. The bud weaves itself out of the vining pile and concerns itself with his cockhead. The petals pull back and they stroke it like fingers, swiping back and forth his pre-cum and foreskin. Arlo’s hips buck. He pushes into the bud, panting and moaning. His ankles dig deeper into the mattress.The vine milks him, coiling around his shaft and dragging itself up and down. Arlo sighs into pleasure.“Arlo...”In the darkness of the ceiling, he makes out a pair of red eyes. A faint outline of a woman suspended over him.“Arlo...” she says his name again.What blood he can spare rushes to his face. Alraune! She’s over him, watching as he suffers and submits to her. He awkwardly cocks his legs closed. But why- He shouldn’t feel so flustered knowing she is in the room. Her eyes raking over his prone and bound body. Shame washes over him. Lust rises over him. He tries to control his breathing. To stop making those pathetic sounds.His breath hitching and the heat of his skin.Arlo feels red all over. He pants, mouth lolling as the vine works him.He wants her. He want this.“Alraune,” he says.“Alraune,” he begs.His words aren’t making any sense. His mind isn’t making any sense.There’s a word waiting on the tip of his tongue. It’s a word he never thinks he’d ever say in bed. With a girl, with a boy, with anyone really! If he says it… If he moans it… He knows of the words that will follow. The shameful ones that- What would those words say about him? Weren’t humans suppose to be afraid of monsters? To fight them to slay them. What was this between them? Lust and curiosity?What about his manly pride?Arlo pants even louder.Fuck it! It’s a show of pride that he could even say what is on his mind!“Please,” he says, whispering it. “Please can you fuck me?”If his ears aren’t pink, they surely are now.“Hmmm,” Alraune asks, “I didn’t quite hear that. Could you say it louder?”Arlo blanches. Really?! Really, did he have to? It takes so much out of him.“Please, can you fuck me!”“I don’t think all my vines heard that,” she coos, “One more time for me as loud as you can do it.”“Please fuck me!”“I don’t mind pleasing my human,” Alraune giggles lightly. Her voice sounding like the most natural thing in the world. Leaves rattling in the wind. “Arlo, you look so delicious caught in my vines.”Alraune lowers herself down, her roots and vines roaming everywhere. She hovers briefly over him before she drops, landing on his middle with a “Oof”. Her vines strike out, covering and claiming every inch of him. They scramble up his chest and run over his arms, worming their way over and under him. Alraune tilts her head. Her eyes eating him. She’s drinking up the sight. The reflection him in her red eyes.She drags a nail-less finger across his middle. Blood follows under the skin, his body growing pink.“Arlo, do you know how amazing you are? Look. You’re changing into your spring colors in the middle of winter! So brazen of you. The pinker you get, the more I want to take your virgin seed. Would you like that? Me taking your seed inside. I’ll use it well. Oh look! You’re even pinkier.”Alraune leans over and her face nuzzles his chest.Her tongue darts out. It’s blue and bright. She uses it, swiping against his budding nipples. His nubs stiffening and hardening for her. Alraune licks harder and brings her lips to close around one. She sucks. His hips jerk. The bed creaks. The noises he’s making. He can’t stand them. In her mouth, Alraune nips lightly with her fangs. She could tear into him at any time but instead she’s loving him.Kissing and caressing and lapping up the pollen.When she pulls back, her lips are glossy and glittery. She kisses his neck. Nipping and biting and breathing against the pulsing vein. Her tongue messily licks against it.“Arlo, you’re so noisy,” she purrs, “Never still. How can you stand it? Your heart is going thump, thump, thump. Your blood is going rush, rush, rush.” she drags her sharp teeth over his vein. “I want you to get even louder? Make your heart faster! Make your lungs pop! Would you like that?”“I don’t mind the heart thing but I need my lungs.”Alraune’s lips move up to his chin. She smooches. It’s a gentle kiss. Sticky with sap and feelings and fools.“I want you,” he babbles.The way he’s saying it, it might as been a marriage proposal.Alraune stops and leans over him. She’s smiling like she’s been let in on a great big secret.“I want you too.”It’s getting hard to breathe normally. His nerves are alive, electrified with lust.“Can I have some bloom dew, human?”Bloom dew?She leans over his face and presses down, kissing him. Their lips meet, soft and sweet. Alraune pushes further into his mouth and he lets her. Tongues meeting and parting. He drools, pollen pouring in. Alraune drinks it up, moaning. She pulls back.“It wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t let you have some of my own.”The bud on her head stretches and grows, moving to brush over his lips.Curious, he gives it an experimental licks.Alraune gaps, “Human, you naughty spore! You can’t just lick so… human-ly! It’s delicate and-” The bud peels back to reveal a dew-covered flower. “Arlo! Arlo wait!” Green drops drips onto his face and cheeks. He continues to lick it, his pink tongue swiping across the quivering petals. He pushes himself into the flower’s center and darts his tongue in. Alraune claws her hands into his shoulders. She moans.Her ponytail falls out and her petal-like hair coils and lifts, becoming like a golden circlet.Alraune shudders against him, her thighs closing around his form. Her nectar gushes from between her legs. Arlo wraps his tongue around the flower’s inner stem. He gives it a light tug. Alraune writhes for him. Her hips buck forward and the vine around his cock brings itself to rub against her curvy ass. She pushes back, sliding the shaft back and forth between her cheeks.He groans, body boiling in need.Arlo turns his head to the side. He thinks he’s should’ve cummed by now. His cock feels so swollen and heavy. Thick and fat. His balls rub against the sheet under him, rounder and fuller. The vine squeezes him harder and his orgasm falls away. His flesh, it sting. It feels like he’s being stretched.The vine is lathering something onto his shaft, it’s seeping through the green root.Arlo cants his hips up and down, chasing the strange sensation. The stinging pain eases every time he bounces. The vine, for the first time, helps him along. It pulls and pushes the looser foreskin around his cockhead. It’s like it’s jerking him off in its unyielding grip. The vine tugs him up and down. It’s moving faster than he can keep up. Cum dribbles from his slit, add more slickness to its aggressive pounding of his cock.The vine tugs harder now and his shaft moves with it, growing longer.His cock stretches, the girth and length spreading out. Arlo clenches his eyes, feet wheeling out from the pleasure-laden pain overloading of expanding nerves and raw fresh skin. His balls aren’t spared. They balloon out under him, two nuts now the size of apples. They drag against him, harder and heafty. His shaft salutes even higher, the curve of his cock resting against the top of Alraune’s ass. Cum streaming down the dips of her rump and splatter onto their bodies.Alraune pushes back and fondles with her ass his new cock.“Like my gardening, Arlo? Since I was tending to it, I thought I’d make it even bigger too.”The vine returns to its former state of lazily tending to his shaft, three loops around him. But the first loop around the base of his cock tightens. Arlo wiggles his hips, trying to knock it off. The loop is so tight, he can feel it press into the space of his shaft and balls. Pushing out what cum could escape its near-agonizing grip while letting the pressure build in his enlarged balls. Another set of vines rub against his nutsac. With their tips, they wrap around the orbs and milk it, forcing more his cum to push into the cock vine’s first loop.“I wanna go even deeper inside you,” Alraune sings, “Is that okay?”Arlo weakly nods though he thinks that’s there isn’t much for her to go besides his mouth and cock.“Are you sure?”She pulls back her flower bud from his mouth.“Y-Yeah. Even when you were just pollen, feeling you inside me felt nice.”Or maybe that’s just because of the trance he fell in when her breasts were smothering him to death.She looks at him, her face blushing. “Even thought I killed you?”“Hey, I wouldn’t say that it wasn’t a nice way to die. Just… don’t kill me this time.”Alraune sways on him, holding her arms together.“I won’t this time, okay~ I’ve already been inside of you so I think I have a good mental picture of where I avoid to keep your fleshy insides intact. Oh, Arlo. Arlo! Knowing that you want me to penetrate you makes me so wet! I haven’t made so much nectar before. There’s too much, too much but I keep making more and more. I want it all to go inside you. I want to go all inside you, Arlo.”P-Penetrate?!What did she mean by 'penetrate'?! There's nothing on him to 'penetrate'!“Alraune, when you say ‘penetrate’ you mean-”“Don’t worry, Arlo. I’ll take it nice and slow. I wanna seed you just right.”More vines spill down. The first few scrape against his trembling thighs, pushing themselves against his skin and sweat. The others busy themselves with his legs and angles, weaving around his joints and them spreading even further apart. Cool air sweeps across his displayed bottom and flustered skin.Arlo bites the inside of his mouth. He squirms even more.A pair of thicker vines approaches his backside, rubbing across his bum and cheeks.They push his cheeks apart and grind against his balls. Their tips are budded the same as the vine around his cock but theirs are different. They squirt. The fatter vines dribble and spew a looser sap across his backside. The smell of it isn’t as sweet as Alraune’s nectar. It’s much more pungent and nature-like. The smell of pine trees in the morning or the woodsy smell of fresh logs on an open flame.The vines around his knees and legs tug Arlo’s body up for the ones around his ass.The fatter vines rub and lather their plant fluid around his asshole, massaging the flesh there. He clenches on instinct. Why were they interested in that place? There’s nothing there. It’s not like a woman’s privates! But as they touch him, he feels himself getting looser. Their buds push into his hole and squirt inside, filling him with that fluid. It’s trickling inside. Warm and wet. A liquid heat warming his insides.Arlo pushes his ass forward. He can’t believe he's doing this, wanting this. Why does this feel so, so good?They push even more into him. His insides stretch, the goo they shot in softening the pain of their intrusion but only slightly. His inner walls part. He can feel them, the shape of their buds and just their girth, the solidness of their form penetrating the darkest place inside of him.They rub against ‘something’ that sends his heart racing.Arlo cries out, breath hitching even higher.They rub it again.He’s moaning now. Tears forming around his eyelids. He can’t stand this. The vines tap that spot again and again. He’s seeing stars and space. Arlo’s close to screaming. He can hardly breathe anymore. Every breath in rushing right back out. He’s getting even louder than the people outside.A hand caress his face. Alraune.She lifts up his chin and watches. Her eyes unknowable. Her intentions beyond his grasps. Why did he say yes to this? She gazes down on him and holds his face, listening to his choked gasp and desperate breath. He’s trying to keep a straight face but he’s knows he’s near gone. His eyes glazing over. His back arching in want. Again, he’s a living dildo for her. Again, he’s nothing but a cum machine. Is this what got her hot and bothered by him. The fact that she could string him up so easily. His human form defenseless to her monstrous vines.Alraune kisses his forehead.“A-Alraune!”“You look beautiful like this, all in full bloom.”She kisses his forehead again, wiping the sweat away. Then her forehead rests against his.Breaths matching. Bodies moving.The vines pull out and something even thicker goes in. It’s so big. She’s forcing something too big between his virgin cheeks! His ring of muscles spread and gape open, this new vine filling him up with just the bulby tip. The bulby vine slowly pushes into him. He fights it. Trying to push it out or flee, straining against his restraints. The bulby vines stills while he struggles. Letting him sweat and exhaust himself. When his fight dies down and he’s panting again, the bulby vine continues.Oh, spirits.“Ahhh...” he cries.“Oh, Arlo.”Alraune kisses and kisses while the vine fucks and fucks him. It’s plunging even deeper, forcing his walls to accommodate its girth and size. The green bastard so deep in. He can’t push it out. He can’t stop it from battering his vulnerable walls. And worse of all, he can’t stop moaning. So good. So good! The bulby vine fills him and pulls back halfway before slamming right back in. His body jerks at once.He’s becoming nothing more than a pair of drooly holes, sap and saliva leaking out of him.The bulby vine thrusts back and forth, pleasure shooting straight to his core. His cock shoots off, cum spewing even higher. The bulby vine whips across his bundles of nerves. His hips, traitors, drive forward to meet its thrusts. The bulby vine pulls back. Arlo meets forward. The bulby vine pushes forward. Arlo meets it, crashing into the hellish bliss.“You’re doing so good, Arlo.”Alraune lifts herself up and hoists herself over his captured cock. Her pussy rubs against his cockhead before she sits, letting him push her walls apart. Arlo screams, cumming again the moment she touches him. His cock spears into her folds, an inch splitting her entrance open. She sinks herself down. Her thighs wiggle as she slides down. Her pussy audibly slurping, gulping his shaft down.When her thighs meet his waist once more, her face is near lost.“I-I think I made you too big!” she cries,“I can hardly move with you inside me. Please stop cumming I can hardly think-”The feel of her pussy pressing against his cock.“Arlo, I-I-”Alraune grows bigger, her form absorbing his overflowing cum. Average-sized before, she's two sizes bigger. Her daffodil-yellow hair droops and falls over them like a shroud. Alraune moves over him, leaning. He can feel her shift on the inside. Her inner walls molding around his too-large cock, clenching and squeezing around it. Alraune's eyes glow, glinting. Beast-like and feral. Arlo doesn't see himself in her eyes any longer. They've clouded over. The bloodlust of a monster. Her vines tighten and those on the ceiling whip back and forth, frenzied."Alraune?"She doesn't respond. She tilts her head like an animal might do towards a sound. There's no recognition in her face."Alraune?" he tries again, attempting to sit up this time. "Are you-"She pushes his shoulders firmly back down. His eyes widen at that. The feel of her hands handling him rough...The plant-beast upon him settles herself on him, forming knees and pulling herself half-way off his shaft. The noise of it. The squelch of their two bodies briefly parting, it rings out in the small space. His cum runs down her thicker thighs. The plant-beast's hands move her lower lips, fingers swiping up the seed dripping down. She scoops it up with her index and brings it to her mouth. Her tongue slides out and she watches it lengthen, a blue fleshy licking up and down her finger. She smacks her hips and regards him."Uhhh..."Looks like he's about to die again tonight.Damn, he's getting harder. Is he going to suffer from death-boners for the rest of his short life!The plant-beast looms over him and her tongue forces its way into his mouth. Their tongues meet and she flattens his down, pushing further within. Her blue tongue brushes up against his teeth and tickles the back of his throat, more of it just pouring in. He obediently holds his mouth open, moaning. This is weird. This is really, really weird. Her tongue keeps on striking the roof of his mouth and he can't help it, it shuts. Her squirming limb in his mouth, Arlo starts sucking to placate it. For some reason, it just all feels so good.Her hips bump into his cock and her vines move it into position.The plant-beast pushes into his cock, her pussy lips, fatter and puffier, allowing him in. She's so warm. Hot. Her nectar gushes down and rains onto the base of cock and balls. And then the smell of it all over it again. The sweet aroma. Her pussy takes him all in within one thrust. Her large thighs clapping against him as she meets his hips again. The plant-beast begins to move. She rides him, slamming up and down on his bound body. All he can do is take it and cry out, muffled by her invading tongue.Their flesh clashes, pain and pleasure mounting as they hit each other.This isn't sex anymore but a marking, a claiming.The cord across Arlo's wrists fall off from the force of her aggressive thrusts. There's no time to think if it had actually been a ribbon or another one of Alraune's vines. There's no chance to escape either even if he wanted to. The plant-beast is upon him. Her vines lift his lower body up and he's pulled up the headboard, the monster still riding him. Relentless. Unsatisfied. Her tongue falls out of his mouth from the sudden change in their positions and he welcomes the scant air. His lungs rattle. His heart is about to jump out of his chest. He can't take anymore. No more. No more!The plant-beast cares not for any words from his lips. He speaks, or he tries to, his words are broken labored things, before she smashes their mouths together.It's not a kiss. It's nothing like the sweet and lovely Alraune he knows.Her lips are vicious. Her tongue pushing once more to get inside of him, lapping up every drop in his mouth. The vine around the base of his cock unfurls and his cock grows once more. He's even larger. Wider. He feels himself extend even more than her, her inner walls choking out more and more cum. Her pussy won't stop. It takes and takes it. Orgasm after orgasm sweeps over him as he hangs in vines, limp like a kitten. The vines pull him further and further up and they're suspended upside down. He clings to her. Her roots fan out, their narrow lengths spreading into leafy layers of a tree's bud. The roots are overlapping, the leaf layers entrapping her and him in a plant prison.He's seen this before.Isn't the same trap that took Minra away?The plant prison closer in, molding to their two bodies. Arlo can feel the filmy leaf glue itself to his back and shoulders, pushing them closer together. His face falls between the plant-beast breasts. The two mounds bounding against him. It's all too appropriate. He hasn't escaped death after all. The plant-beasts thrusts grow slower, her strokes longer. The vines inside his ass pulling out, their stewy sap dripping down his legs. His vision is beginning to blur. His body shaking and shuddering.Arlo cums.He shoots off inside of her, ropes of thick white gushing straight into her womb. His body is alight, a boat on a rocky sea, he's a mess of overstimulated nerves and muffled pleas. The plant prison pushes them together even tighter and tears trickle out of his eyes. His breath doesn't ease. His body doesn't still. She wants more him. She must. She must! The plant-beast pulls her tongue out and forces him to look at her. She stares into his eyes. Her hand brushes against his lips. His eyes close and he leans up, seeking hers. It's the last thing he remembers. Alraune wakes first, yawning and shaking the breeding bud.She smacks her lips.Arlo…His taste lingers on her receptor. He really was a delicious meal. Just like she thought he’d be.Alraune blinks, her bud stiffening in question.Didn’t humans call their receptors a tongue? That pink fleshy thing of theirs. She’s remembers how Arlo’s has been. Soft and wet and so fun to play with. Her ‘tongue’ isn’t like that at all. It’s much longer and blue and capable of sharpening into a needle-like weapon. It’s hollow too.But she supposes it makes sense.She has three of them situated in the back of her mouth, waiting to dig into a prey’s weak point. Their legs. Their ankles. Their necks. It really doesn’t matter as long as she gets a direct hit. Breaking through the flesh and shooting her poison into their bloodstream.The plant girl unfurls the breeding bud and spins downward, Arlo tucked into her side as they both fall.He curls around her and she cups the back of his head. He’s so strange. She runs her hand over his hair. It crinkles like grass but is soft like fur. The thin strands working together to make a mane of brown messy locks. She’d like to say it reminded her of a rabbit’s fur but his so less denser than theirs. Grip-pable and fun to toy with. She digs deeper with her fingers, rubbing along his scalp. He likes it, his lips parting with a dreamy moan.Her back meets the mattress and she sits up. Careful not to wake the resting Arlo.She’s been rougher than she thinks. He reeks of her. His body giving off waves after wave of her unique aroma and pollen mix. It’s absolutely adorable. Most alraunes would never let their partner’s scent linger on them too long. Common sense, really. To smell like another alraune is to smell like food to that alraune.Much like spiders, they do so like to eat their lovers.Binding them inside of a breeding bud and dissolving them in green nutritious mulch.She hadn’t done that to Arlo because he’s wearing her scent so nicely. She hadn’t eaten-eaten Arlo because… there is no need for that. Alraunes come together to breed and of course, someone would have to be eaten to provide for the new variant. It isn’t as bad as a mammal might think. Those eaten get reborn as soon as that variant came of age to start making seeds and whatnot.But with a human, Alraune couldn’t promise that she could bring them back.And more than that, her scent on him is so attractive. She wants to smell it everyday. She wants him to be a mess under her everyday. Moaning and gasping and making more bloom dew for her to lap up. And then his virgin seed. Humans are odd things. They’re like unfinished alraunes. How they’ve managed to not died out yet baffles her.Alraune shapes her roots into legs and walks onto the floor. Her hip vines grabs the fabric hides humans like to sleep with. The blankets and the covers and more. She gathers them and bundles Arlo right up. This will have to do until she can acquire proper alraune attire for him. His human wear wouldn’t do. It gets wet too easily and he’s surely freeze in the cold without something thicker. No wonder humans hide in their homes in the winter.They’re much like the alraune in that respect but again, plant-beast don’t lose an entire season simply because of some cold weather. They have ways around it.She ties Arlo to her back and sheds a layer to make a garment for herself.A cord across her breast and a pair of covering for her privates. It’s all she can make for now.“Quest,” Alraune says.The screen appears. [Q?e?t! Q?e?t! Q?e?t] The ancient monster Spore has been roused from their slumber by a great and terrible evil! To combat this foe, all pollen spawn must engage in human capture and root out the threat.[Current Quest Parameters are as followed:][All villagers captured: Success!][All village homes invaded: Success!][Current Occupation of the Village: 75% and rising.][Evil Found: Failure!][Time before a [Hero]’s appearance: 1 hour remaining.] “Update quest. I’m in a hurry.” [Q?e?s?! Q?e?t! Q?e?t!]The [V?ll?g?r] Alraune has found a [Demon Lord Candidate]!With their union, they can lead the [SPAWN] pollen phantom alraunes to the source of the infection spreading over the land![Current Quest Parameters are as followed:][Time remaining for Quest’s Completion: 1 hour][Evil Found: Incomplete][Road Traveled: Incomplete][DLC Condition: Good] Alraune slaps her hands to her cheeks. She can do this. Everyone is counting on her! The humans, the spawn and Spore!“Arlo, activate demon lord candidate skill: [Monster Allure].” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Arlo kneels in front of the rabbit hole. It’s the last one he’s scouted in the grassland glen. Or, at least from what he’s been able to find so late in the day, the freshest one around. He palms the ground. Fingers stroking the mix of wet spring soil and newborn grass. Everything crinkles. Everything’s moist and warm and fresh. He finds what he’s looking for. Feels it. Hears it through his soft palms. The tremor in the soil. The shiver of the creature nesting below.Thump, says the earth. Thuuump, says the prey.The rabbit’s here.Arlo sits upright. Readies. He pulls out his hunting holster and takes out what he needs. One brush and a small vial of elmtree sap. Arlo takes the brush and dips it into the uncorked vial. The sticky yellow sap sinks into the horse hair. With his free hand, Arlo grabs a pair of waiting leafs and pains them. Stickies them together before folding their large lengths to make a wide-mouthed funnel. He adds more and more leafs to the funnel. Its size increasing until the funnel’s mouth is big enough to cover the grassy hole.Nearby, a small fire waits.Arlo moves the funnel over the hole and with his thumbs, he pushes an opening through the other side of the tapered end. That should be enough. He moves the funnel. Sits it on top of the hole and pushes it firm into the ground. His leafy creation making lines in the loose soil. Then Arlo gets up. He goes to the fire and lights a leaf, the tip now smoking a reddish mist. Rotleaf. He comes back to the funnels and folds the leaf in half. He pushes it through. It slots in nicely. Blood ash sprinkling down.The smoke rises after a while.One thin red smoke trail stinking up the spring afternoon.Arlo gathers another leaf and slathers it with wet soil and clingy mud. He places it onto the funnel’s tapered end. Blocking out the exit for the smoke. Watches. There’s no more smoke on his now. But for the rabbit below… The ground under him quakes. There’s a squeak. No… There’s squeaking. Something tries to kick the funnel away from below. Small paws weakly knocking against the curved leaf. Arlo watches and shrugs his shoulders. Hunting is nothing but waiting, waiting, waiting.“C’mon, little guy. Don’t pass out. Run. Run!”Finally, the rabbit gets it. The animal scampers off within the underground tunnels. The thin layer of soil shaking as it goes. Arlo takes off after it. He whoops, cackling. Arlo runs wild in Elmgrass Grove, barefooted and windmilling like a dumbass. His knees have been killing him, furry motherfucker! The rabbit zips left and right. Arlo mimics, pushing himself over the few large rocks that dot the sloping terrain.Another rabbit hole is in sight.Is the bastard going to go for it? Is he? Is he?!The ground rattles under Arlo’s feet. The rabbit zooming for that exit. Yes! Yes, he is! Arlo sprints to beat the rabbit there. He slides on his bare soles, the wet grass as slick as he needs it. He winds up tripping, can’t quite get the landing right just yet, and fumbles in front of the opening.Arlo leans over the opening, teeth and lips a nasty growing grin.The rabbit sees him in the dark. Brown eyes a glint in the dim darkness. It eyes the gap between his legs. The little beast doesn’t relent. It runs forward, teeth bared. Arlo smiles harder. The rabbit pops through the hole and falls, bound. The more it struggles, the more stuck it gets. Brown paws and legs covered and coated in leaf ropes and elmgrass sap. It squeaks and squeaks until it goes boneless, exhausted.“And this makes you, Mr. 31! I’ve finally fulfilled the quest requirements!”Arlo leans low and scoops up the rabbit by the neck. They never resist anymore once he had them in his hands. He brings the creature up to his face. Brown fur. Black eyes. One standard grassland rabbit. Exactly like the Adventurer’s Quest asked for.Well… They actually asked for just ten rabbit. But for some reason, the first set didn’t count. And the second set didn’t count. But this time, it’ll count. Probably. For this reason, he’s captured a one extra to make it a lucky eleven. The rabbit sniffs his face. Ears quivering in curiosity. Arlo glares at it. All rabbits act the same.“Don’t you dare. I will not release you even if you-”The rabbit licks his nose.“…lick me.”Arlo sways back and forth. Guuuh, that’s so cute. He can’t help himself. He gives the rabbit a peck right back. Is it just him or is the rabbit blushing? Can they even blush through their fur?He tilts the rabbit to the side, wondering if he’ll see some berry juice run off its cheeks.Nope. And it’s still blushing. Weird.The rabbit averts its face, blushing even harder. Arlo stares at it. As far as he could tell, this is a grassland rabbit. Brown fur. Black eyes. Two tails. And one long prehensile slime-green tongue. Wait? It has... what?! One of the rabbit tails slides down its backside and weaves up over to tickle his waist. Rabbits couldn’t do that, could they? Well… this wasn’t the first one that acted like thi-“And as you can see there, that’s our resident weirdo. Arlo Brey. Job Class: Villager.”Arlo stiffens in place.That word! Villager. He shudders to his core.“Bree!” he barks out. “Don’t call me that! I am an adventuring hopeful. See? See!” Arlo cradles the rabbit into his side and with his free hand, digs out the quest’s pamphlet. “They don’t just give these to anybody.”Bree shrugs from up high on the hill.“I’m a villager. You’re a villager. What’s the problem? Why do you get so mad, villager man. Man of the village. Village man from when you were a village boy. We were village friends from since we were village kids.” Nora pauses, making ghostly hands at him. “Villager.” she drive in with a pop of her lips.Arlo groans.Bree starts down the hill, a woman of twenty-two. Her large tan skirts kick up in the wind, revealing her brown work boots and the white leggings she wears under them. Bree’s brown locks sway in the wind, her bangs damp with both sweat and dirt. She always likes to stick her nose into someone’s business.But Arlo guesses that what’s expected of a village chief’s daughter.She has to know and mock everything.Bree slides the rest of the way down and leaps for him. He’s too slow to escape her. She grabs him by his collars and tucks him between her arm and crest. Her sizable breasts smothering him to death while she laughs. There must be something in the milk of her farm to let her be so tall. She’s a head over him.“Is that a rabbit in your pants or are you just happy to see me?”Arlo groans.“I’m not having this conversation with you.”Arlo pushes a hand against to the globs of flesh that sits on Bree’s chest. They jiggle in response, smacking right back him. Why did her breasts have to be so fat and perky? They’re nothing but weapons in Bree’s sexual arsenal. Demons!“You’re just mad because I refuse to be a village husband. Face it! I don’t want to take a trade. I don’t want to take a wife. I want-”Bree squishes him closer to her breasts.“Huuuhh? Whatcha just say, punk? You think you’re too good for a village girl? Repent with your death.”She outright smothers him. Death by fleshy marshmallows. What a horrible nice way to die.“Wow, you two do this song-and-dance often? We appreciate the entertainment.”Huh? Who said that?Arlo forces his eyes open and looks the way Bree came.On the hillside path leading to home, he sees a group of strangers. They’re dressed in strange armors and even stranger weapons. They give off an aura he’s never experienced before. Cloaks and blades and pelts and skimpy clothing. He knows who they are.Adventurers.Bree drops him and Arlo falls to the ground, catching his breath. The rabbit hides in his arms.Adventurers, his mind repeats.They’re five of them. A knight. A mage. A cleric. A swordsman. And… a fresh adventurer. Three men. Two women. Sharply, he can feel the difference between them. Humans who slay monsters and humans who are eaten by monsters. They might as well have been a completely different species. It’s hard to keep his eyes on them. They inspire fear that sinks into his limbs and make him weak.God, it feels so good.There they were, the people he wanted to be!The obvious-looking adventurer, a girl, leaps off the hill and lands right next to him.Her long silver hair whips in the wind, silky cords held aloft in her twin ponytails. You could always tell an adventurer from how they dressed, even more so from the others that chose to specialize. She’s wearing a mix of trash equipment and pricey bracelets to up her magical stats. And yet, she’s just as strange and compelling as the others. In nothing but a skimpy black turtleneck dress with a breastplate and a oversized belt on her waist, she commands respect despite her slender figure.The girl’s purple eyes glow. White sigils overlaying her pupils. Was she using a [Skill]?“Don’t play with the villagers too long, Laurel. We have classified business to attend to in Redrot Forest.”That’s the knight speaking. He sounds muffled under all that armor. Too muffled.Was the adventurer his subordinate?Arlo moves his eyes to the knight’s armor. Expecting to find a family crest or the mark of either the RRA (Royal Rune Army) or the AAK (Armies of the Aligned Kingdoms). But there’s none to be found. How odd. The [Knight] job class is highly regulated. You usually had to pledge your name to a royal family or join the army. There were disgraced knights but they didn’t exactly walk around in bright daylight. Couldn’t with the high bounties on their heads.“Understood sir,” the adventurer responds.Now that he looks at them, the entire party seems a little off. They all wear bland clothing that vaguely hints at their job classes. And yet their aura… It’s so threatening and intense. They couldn’t be regular-“Let’s go,” the knight says to the others. “Finish up here Laurel and meet us at the center of the forest.”Then they shuffle off in a straight line, far more slave-like than he’d expect from freelance monster-hunters.So strange…?“I suppose my superior would like me to introduce myself,” Laurel starts. “I don’t particularly understand the sentiment. Why should I be friendly towards my kills?”K-kills?Arlo backs away with his feet and hands. The rabbit tries to nibble its way into his shirt. He wants to stand but the killing intent, it washes over him. His body is like jelly, resisting all his command to run. Arlo turns to Bree. She’s freezing in a similar state.“I am Laurel Mundis and you are in violation of section four, article three of the Human Zone Act. However, as par acknowledgment of sentient and uprisen creatures, I will allow you a chance to explain yourself.”“E-explain? What do you mean, explain? I was here first!” Arlo shouts.“Why are you threatening us? What do you mean, ‘in violation’? I was just showing you around!”Laurel silently unsheathes her weapon.“Your chance has passed.”It’s a blade. One sword as silver as the girl’s hair. She swings it slowly and brings its sharp edge to point toward him. “In the name of Saint Giaaia and all her holy works, I shall slay you for the good of this land. May your death serve as a warning to all that would impose our human dominion-”The rabbit skittles out his arm and flees.Laurel clicks her teeth and walks a few feet forward.The rabbit is a brown dot among the fields of green. There’s no way that she could reach it without a bow or a staff. Arlo studies here. He doesn’t see either weapon. Just a sword with a small reach. And yet, she looks so determined. Laurel tucks some lone strands of hair behind her hair. The rabbit gets further and further away. Why does she still have her sword out?Laurel grips the sword’s hand and the blade glows with a clear light.She swings.The blade sings and a hellish wave of sword magic is released. The wind-slitting blow cuts through the grassland, chasing after the rabbit. It pierces it. The rabbit briefly splitting into two splatters of greenish goo with a single orb dodging the blow. Laurel swings again and again. This time, her magic-made blows coming from the east and west. Tearing into the fake rabbit and destroying the orb within.“It is done.”Laurel resheathes her weapon.“Huh?”Arlo leaps up and tackles her.“What are you doing upon my person?”He grabs her by the shoulders and hugs her, shouting his praises. Didn’t she know how cool she looked? How awesome it was? What was that skill she used? What was her level? Where did she train? Could she teach him everything?Laurel blushes, her body so soft and slim in his embrace.He plops his chin on her head, rewarding him with another indignant squeak. She’s so fun to squeeze. Is this how Bree feels every time she bullies him? Her armored hands grasp onto his shirt, clawing in. Huh? Did she like the hugging too?In the background, Arlo hears Bree say snidely. “A real wife doesn’t get threatened so easily.”“I’m not your husband, Bree.”“That’s fine as long as you acknowledge me as your first wife and accept my last name.”“That still implies marriage!”“Why are you so mean, Arlo? Are you trying to get me all hot and bothered?! My future husband is hugging another girl. This is cruel. This is super cruel. I won’t be apart of a harem unless I’m first wife. I knew you first. I deserve it first.” Bree lowers her voice. “And all your side wives can get my last name too, hehehehe.”“And this is why I won’t join a union with you. I am not a piece of man-meat that you can-”“Villagers are really friendly,” Laurel murmurs before clearing her voice. Wow, she’s now using her stern voice. Arlo reluctantly lets her go. He isn’t that much of a bully. He just had a habit of cuddling cute things that could kill him. “But you two were lucky I was around, that slime could have eaten the both of you. Or worse, followed you home and went after the entire town.”Arlo and Bree share a look.“W-what?” Laurel states, resting her hands on her hips. “I’m just warning you of the consequences.”They snort.“What did I say? Am I wrong?”Bree waves a hand. “Oh, you know. Outsiders.” She rolls her eyes. “Village traditions. Where’s the rabbit hutch, Arlo? Since I’m here, I might as well help you bring them to town.”Arlo stretches and points. “About over there.”The pair of them take off, leaving Cygnus behind.“Hey! Hey wait! I just saved your lives.”Arlo holds a hand over his mouth out of respect. Bree doesn’t. She snorts even louder.They reach the rabbit hutch and lift the wooden box up. Ten rabbits push themselves up against the side where Arlo holds them. Sticking their little furry snout out for pets and rubs. Arlo indulges them. He pets them freely to the amusement of Bree. He feels her weighty stare. He blushes despite himself.“Hello, villagers! Why are you ignoring me? You both owe me your gratitude.”Laurel walks after them.“Didn’t you have to meet up with your boss?” Bree reminds. “He doesn’t seem like the understanding type.”“That’s true.”Arlo thinks for a moment.“Hey. Hey! Can’t you do the [Village Chief] skill so she won’t get into trouble?”“You’re just asking so you can ogle me, aren’t you?”“What’s there to ogle?” Arlo points out. “All I see is my faithful childhood enemy.”Laurel rushes around them.“What do you mean by village chief skill? Villagers don’t have things like skills or special moves.”“Sure we do!” Bree boasts, pounding against her chest. “It’s just that it’s completely useless outside of human settlements. All of our skill sets end up as passive bonuses from what we experience each and every day.” Bree pushes the rest of the rabbit hutch into Arlo’s hands. “Some more than others.”Arlo ignores the dig.“I’m not marrying you no matter what.”He is swiftly ignored.“I’ll admit it isn’t as fancy as the [Adventurer] or [Knight] class but we’re important, damn it.” Bree unclips the village’s pendant from her neck and holds it out. “Behold!”The pendant ignites, surging with golden power. Bree clutches it in her hands and prays.“In the name of my village, I place upon thee, adventurer, a great charge!”The winds kick up, coiling around her solitary figure. The light sweeps through her body. Her figure becomes bright and near see-through. The words she speaks are given form and leave her throat as solid misty letters. It is, for one word, awesome. Arlo holds his ground against the out pour of power coming from Bree’s [Village Chief’s Proclamation]. Laurel, on the other hand, is less than graceful.She drops to her knees.And there might be a little ‘I’m not worthy’ weeping going on too.“There is a great need for your service. Understand this. Should you skirt this charge, fortune and favor shall not fall upon you. Adventurer-”“Yes, m’lady! Anything! Anything!”“Escort two villagers to the village of Haiden’s Hamlet. Current villagers escorted 0/2.”“W-what? Are you kidding me? That’s not a quest! That’s bullshi-”The light show ends and Bree is standing there as normal. She reclips her pendant and holds out a hand for the floating proclamation. The words touch her hands and reform into a quest scroll. “I wonder if I made a good one this time?” Bree unfurls for Arlo’s inspection.[!!Emergency Quest!!][Escort Villagers Bree and Arlo to the village of Haiden’s Hamlet!]The kingdom depends on you![Exp Reward: 10] [Gold Earned: 0] [Friendship Gained: Priceless]“Wow,” Arlo admires. “You managed to give out more experience this time. And hey, don’t think I didn’t notice that. I’m not a villager. I’m an adventurer hopeful. Change that.”Bree sticks out her tongue.“Fine, you big baby.”She flicks the scroll and the words change.[!!Emergency Quest!!][Escort Villager Bree and Adventurer Wannabe Arlo to the village of Haiden’s Hamlet].The kinGdom diiekomsa on eyo![Exp Reward: 01] [Gold Earned: 0] [Friendship Gained: Priceless]“Eeesh, Laurel doesn’t even 10 experience points this time.”“I’m not going to mess with it again. It’s such a pain in the ass to construct and form.” Bree turns to the adventurer. “So uh, Laurel? Quest?”There’s no response.“I think we broke her.”“Adventurers.”
10367346	Female Humans Do What	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Female Shepard (Mass Effect), Garrus Vakarian, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, Liara T'Soni, James Vega", "Fandom": "Mass Effect", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by YourLocalPriestess", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-19T00:00:00", "words": "951", "Additional Tags": "some humor in these trying times!!, warning: there are descriptions of menstrual cycles in i guess graphic ish detail?, more sciencey but still, if that's not your thing now you know, shakarian is background but it's there, Set During ME3", "Relationship": "Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "ʚ mass effect ɞ", "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 }	Shepard dropped her coffee cup with a clatter as a shriek echoed through the mess. She spun around and glanced at the others. Garrus, Liara, and James looked equally perplexed.“What the fuck was that?” she half-shouted, clutching her hand to her heart and scanning the room. No sooner had she begun to move toward the hall than Tali came bursting into the room, making them all jump.“Someone on this ship is injured!” she shouted. Her hands fidgeted up and down as she shot harried glances at each of their faces.Shepard blinked. “What?”Tali fidgeted even further. “There’s–there’s blood in the bathroom, and so much of it, and these weird bandages.” Her voice rose in pitch on every word.“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down.” Shepard sighed. “What are you talking about?”Tali groaned. “Come here.”Shepard followed with Liara close on her tail. Garrus and James came as well, though remained outside, with the door open but not inside, while Shepard and Liara followed the young quarian into the women’s restroom.Once at the sink, still in sight of the boys lingering in the doorway, if only barely, Tali stopped and threw one hand out in dramatic gesture at the waste bin. Inside said bin laid two used pads and one used tampon, plain as day. Shepard had to blink a few times to process the sight. Liara was openly gaping.“It’s not like I’ve never seen blood before, Shepard, but in the bathroom! With so much? Why wouldn’t they just use Medigel?!”And then Shepard laughed. She couldn’t take it another moment longer.“Did she just say…?” James probed.Shepard straightened, laughter still wracking her body as she tried to stifle the fits of giggles. All she managed in the end were two frantic nods, and then James’ booming laugh joined her own, echoing in the halls and in the small bathroom. James laughed so hard that he even walked away from the doorway, as if removing himself might calm him. Garrus, who had caught sight of the “bandages,” was fluttering his mandibles as he glanced between the two humans and the bin.“What’s funny about this?” Tali all but shouted.“Oh…” Liara’s voice was soft as the reality dawned on her, and then she was stifling a giggle as well, her hand flying up to mouth in protest, which only served to make Shepard laugh even harder.“What is so funny?!” Tali cried, voice shriller than Shepard had even heard it.When she was finally able to breathe again, she straightened and ran a hand through her hair, taking two deep breaths just to be sure the giggles were gone. “I’m sorry to laugh, Tali, I just couldn’t help it,” she stated, her voice breaking into a chuckle on the last word.“How is this funny?” Garrus added from the door. James, who had only just returned at Garrus’ nine, guffawed once more and walked away. Garrus was now openly glaring at them both. “What?” he shouted.Shepard shot a glance at Liara, who only shrugged and shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips.“I swear to god…” Tali muttered.“Okay, okay,” Shepard chuckled. “It’s, umm, well, when human women reach a certain age, their body sheds the lining of their uterus once a month when it’s not being used to, umm, house a baby.”Garrus and Tali were silent, neither of them moving. “That shedding is bloody, and lasts anywhere from 3 to 10 days depending on the woman,” she went on. “Frankly, I’m surprised this hasn’t come up sooner.”Garrus’ mandibles went slack and a strange choking sound left his throat. “Are you saying–? Do you–?”“Yes.” She nodded, giving her best impression of a Cheshire grin. “Once a month. Usually around 6 days.”“You have to be joking!” Tali stated.“She’s really not,” Liara said. “All female humans go through it, even ones that are not fertile.”“Bu–but look at it!” She gestured at the bin wildly with both hands. “Doesn’t it hurt? What about the blood loss?!”Shepard only shrugged, and glanced at Garrus long enough to shoot him a wink before turning back to Tali. “It hurts like a bitch sometimes, and that pain varies from woman to woman as well. Mine feels like someone’s twisting my spinal cord on a bad day. Good days you just feel bloated and uncomfortable. But, clearly, we don’t die of blood loss. There isn’t exactly a shortage of female humans.”Tali mumbled something in kelish and looked at the bin one last time. Despite the face plate, Shepard imagined her friend’s eyes were wide open. “No wonder you never die.”Shepard laughed and let the unadulterated amusement fill her bones. It wasn’t often these days she could feel like this. She smirked at Garrus, who was still standing frozen, mandibles and jaw slack. She walked over and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Come on,” she said to the others while nodding into the hall. “Sex ed class is over kids.”James could be heard laughing at her comment in the mess. Tali walked out slowly, with Liara’s arm over her shoulder. It looked so much like someone who comforted a grieving person that Shepard had to stifle a laugh. Again. She held Garrus back for a moment behind the others, arm still draped lazily over his waist, and looked up at him. He was staring at her in awe.“What?” she chuckled. He only shook his head once, and finally let himself laugh. It rumbled through her and she felt warmth race over her body.He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her hair. “The Reapers are fucked.”
10383060	Burlesque Lexa POV	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Anya (The 100), Raven Reyes, Octavia Blake, Echo (The 100), Niylah (The 100)", "Fandom": "The 100 (TV)", "Language": "Italiano", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Lory1975", "chapters": "4/4", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-20T00:00:00", "words": "9,505", "Additional Tags": "POV Lexa, Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa", "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 }	CAPITOLO 1 Stamattina mi sono alzata con l’unico desiderio in testa di raccontarvi la mia storia, non so neanche io il perché… in realtà non si tratta proprio della storia della mia vita, ma come questa sia cambiata in una sola sera.Innanzitutto mi presento: mi chiamo Lexa Woods, e sono il CEO della più grande impresa pubblicitaria di Chicago, il Polis. Dovevo essere proprio ubriaca quando ho scelto il mio indirizzo all’università, un campo più competitivo di questo non lo potevo scegliere, ma queste sono solo finezze!Nel mondo del lavoro ho la fama di un’arrogante figlia di puttana, insomma una stronza per definizione, anche se brillante e molto intelligente… il quadro non mi dipinge molto bene, ne sono consapevole… ma per vivere in un mondo di uomini bisogna lottare con le unghie e con i denti, ed io non mi tiro mai indietro quando mi lanciano una sfida. Ok, ok, lo so, sono molto orgogliosa, ma tutti abbiamo i nostri difetti.Torniamo a noi. Fino ad una settimana fa ero la persona più inconsapevole ed egocentrica del mondo e mi andava bene così. Ero persa nelle mie convinzioni e pensavo di essere al sicuro nella mia bolla. Non vedevo l’ora di sposare la mia fidanzata, Costia, l’amore della mia vita. Ricordo ancora le sensazioni che provavo, non stavo più nella pelle, ero terribilmente nervosa, ma anche super eccitatissima. Sul fatto che lei fosse l’unica, la sola per me, non avevo dubbi. Fin dal nostro primo incontro, ero convinta di aver capito il vero significato di anima gemella… ma, in quel momento, non potevo assolutamente sapere di quanto io fossi lontana dalla verità. Infatti non avrei mai immaginato che, di lì a poco, tutte le mie convinzioni sarebbero finite nel cesso. Non avrei mai creduto di dimenticare persino il mio nome per un’altra donna, una dea direttamente scesa dall’olimpo solo ed esclusivamente per farmi notare quanto io fossi presuntuosa ed arrogante… ma sì sa, a volte la vita è strana, il destino non lo scegliamo noi è già scritto, ed io ero semplicemente sulla strada sbagliata.///Vedo la mia bellissima fidanzata intenta a prepararsi davanti allo specchio della nostra camera. Silenziosamente, mi avvicino a lei afferrandole i fianchi da dietro. L’abbraccio stretta e comincio a baciarle la spalla risalendo verso collo.“Ehi amore, ma devi proprio andare dai tuoi? Io come farò una settimana senza te?”, le dico tra un bacio e l’altro.Si gira catturando le mie labbra per darmi il buongiorno.“Lex, lo sai che se potessi rimarrei qui insieme a te lo farei… ma non ho scelta… devo tornare dai miei. Mi padre non si sente molto bene e mia madre ha bisogno di aiuto per i preparativi del viaggio…”.“Non c’è proprio niente che possa fare per farti cambiare idea?”, provo ad insistere, lasciandole dei baci umidi per tutto il collo.“Uhm, se continui così potresti anche riuscirci… lo sai che non riesco a resisterti… ma ti prego Lex, non insistere”, mi supplica Costia.“Ok, ok, hai ragione, fra una settimana sarai tutta mia, si tratta solo di aspettare”, ribatto baciandola un’ultima volta per poi dirigermi verso il bagno.“Io ho il volo fra due ore, ce la fai ad accompagnarmi?”.“Certo Cos, nessun problema dieci minuti e sono pronta”.Mi preparo in fretta, ed in men che non si dica, siamo già in macchina, nella limousine di famiglia, dirette verso l’aeroporto.“Ehi tesoro, che programmi hai per la serata?”, mi chiede Costia ridestandomi dai miei pensieri.“Non ne ho idea. Anya ed Echo mi vogliono portare fuori per festeggiare l’addio al nubilato… fin da subito sono stata chiara con loro… gli ho quasi ordinato di non organizzare niente di particolare… solo un’uscita tra amiche… ma sai come sono fatte quelle due!”.“Già lo so… e ora comincio seriamente a preoccuparmi!”.Mi avvicino a lei e l’abbraccio stretta baciandole dolcemente la fronte.“Costia, non dire cavolate, lo sai che per me esisti solo tu. Nella mia testa, nel mio cuore, nella mia anima c’è tatuato il tuo nome… non hai nulla di cui preoccuparti, amore mio!”.“Lex, io mi fido di te, è di quelle scapestrate delle tue migliori amiche che non mi fido per niente”.Le prendo il volto obbligandola a guardarmi.“Non hai nulla di cui preoccuparti Costia, vedrai non faremo neanche tardi, te lo prometto”.Mi avvicino sempre di più al suo viso fino a che non sento le sue dolci labbra sulle mie. Il nostro bacio e dolce, ma allo stesso tempo intenso. La sua bocca è stata sempre la mia casa. Lei è tutto per me.Dopo poco arriviamo all’aeroporto. Ci abbracciamo e ci baciamo ancora finché non richiamano il suo volo per l’imbarco.“Ehi amore, chiamami quando atterri, ok?”.La vedo annuire e subito dopo scomparire tra la folla.Ritorno alla macchina e mi ritrovo a sorridere da sola, come una deficiente. Eh meno male che non le ho detto che stasera c’è anche Niylah, se no sarebbe andata giù di testa. Scuoto la testa sorridendo per l’assurda gelosia di Costia.///Oggi è sabato, e, anche se non dovrei, sono in ufficio alle prese con delle scartoffie. La giornata procede molto velocemente. Costia mi manca, ogni secondo di più, ma il lavoro mi tiene impegnata. Sono talmente presa che non sento neanche arrivare quelle scapestrate delle mie amiche.“Ehi Lex, dove potevamo trovarti? Se non al lavoro! Echo, mi devi 20 dollari”, esclama Anya entrando senza bussare nel mio ufficio.“Anya, eccoli qui 20 verdoni, ma sia ben chiaro: io con te non scommetto più!”, replica Echo leggermente irritata.“Lex, ma non sei ancora pronta? Io non vedo l’ora di far dei casini stasera, e tu sei ancora vestita così?!”, sbotta Niylah quasi seccata.“Ma prego ragazze, entrate pure senza bussare e fate come se foste a casa vostra!”, affermo sorridendo divertita.“Come se non ci conoscessi, vero Lex?”, mi chiede retoricamente Anya.“Tralasciamo il fatto delle scommesse su di me, che cosa non va nel mio abbigliamento?”.“Stai scherzando vero? Lexa, non so come dirtelo senza offenderti?”, ribatte la sorella di Echo.“E da quando ti fai questi scrupoli, Niylah?”.“Sì, beh, hai ragione. Sembri un amministratore delegato…”.“Io sono un amministratore delegato”, replico seccata.“No, Lexa, non hai capito quello che intendo. Sembri una suora, sei completamente inaccessibile, poco provocante e neanche un pochino sexy. Diciamo che quel tailleur nero con la tua solita camicia bianca, neanche un po’ sbottonata, ammazza un po’ le tue chance di fare conquiste!”, esclama Niylah con un sorrisetto beffardo sulle labbra, dando subito dopo il cinque a sua sorella.Io la guardo quasi sconvolta. Le mie adorabili amiche, se così si possono chiamare, stanno ridendo di me senza ritegno.Incrocio lo sguardo di Anya e la incenerisco.“Dì un po’ An, ma che cavolo avete organizzato per stasera? Vi ricordate vero, che sabato prossimo mi sposo? E che, proprio per questa ragione, non devo fare nessun tipo di conquista?“, le chiedo decisamente irritata.“Quanto sei noiosa Lex. Abbiamo organizzato una serata diversa dal solito, vedrai che ti divertirai. E non fare la bambina capricciosa, quel tailleur è veramente orribile… quindi fila… va’ a cambiarti… Tanto lo sappiamo benissimo, che nella stanza a fianco c’è un armadio fornitissimo, pieno di vestiti per ogni evenienza”.La guardo incredula, sapevano della mia stanza segreta, non l’ho mai detto a nessuno.“Ti vuoi muovere!”, mi incita Echo senza troppa cerimonie.“Sì, sì, vado!”.Ci metto circa venti minuti a preparami. Quando ritorno dalle ragazze cominciano a fischiare in segno di approvazione… Ma sono donne o scaricatori di porto? A volte ho dei dubbi! “La suora è di tuo gradimento, Niylah?”, mi pavoneggio giusto un po’ per prenderla in giro.“Lex sei un vero schianto!”, replica Echo con l’approvazione delle altre.Il mio viso si tinge di rosso, non riuscendo a gestire il mio imbarazzo … per chi mi conosce, come le mie migliori amiche, lo sa, io non riesco a gestire i complimenti, è più forte di me, mi imbarazzo e cambio argomento. Anche se, devo essere onesta, le mie amiche hanno ragione, il vestito che ho scelto è veramente da sturbo. Un monospalla nero lungo fino alle caviglie, con un spacco vertiginoso laterale fino al linguine.“Ok ragazze, andiamo prima che cambi idea!”, esclamo tirando per un braccio Anya.///Il viaggio in limousine è abbastanza veloce. Non faccio neanche in tempo ad assalire Anya con domande su dove stiamo andando, che siamo già arrivate. Non so perché, ma ho una strana sensazione!Alfred, il mio fidato autista, ci viene ad aprire lo sportello. Escono tutte dalla macchina ed io sono l’ultima. Appena fuori una luce accecante mi abbaglia. Cerco di mettere a fuoco e noto subito le mie amiche sorridermi maliziosamente. Alzo lo sguardo e vedo la ragione del mio accecamento, l’insegna del locale.Lo devo leggere due volte per realizzare quanto siano stupide le mie amiche.“No, dico, ma siete deficienti? Avete organizzato l’addio al nubilato al Burlesque?”.“Per rispondere alla prima domanda, ovviamente lo sai che siamo deficienti, se così non fosse non ci vorresti bene… In merito alla seconda domanda, lo sappiamo benissimo che sei una persona perspicace, quindi mi sembra inutile darti una risposta!”, esclama Anya, facendo ridere tutte le altre… sì, tutte, tranne me.Sospiro, cercando una via di fuga a quella situazione, che definire scomoda sarebbe un eufemismo.“Ragazze, io vi ringrazio veramente… ma non mi sembra per niente una buona idea. Non mi sento a mio agio in questi locali”.Ok, mi rendo conto che la mia scusa fa schifo, ma non mi è venuto in mente nient’altro.“Lex, non fare la timida, ti conosciamo da una vita e con noi questa scusa non attacca!”, esclama Echo mettendomi all’angolo. E ti pareva! “Dai Lexa, smettila di fare la santa! E poi di cosa ti preoccupi? Non è mica uno strip club. Le cantanti e ballerine del Burlesque rimangono con i vestiti addosso… più o meno, se è questo quello che ti preoccupa!”, afferma Niylah sogghignando.“Senza considerare che io ed Echo abbiamo fatto i salti mortali per organizzare questa serata. Non sai il casino… stasera si esibiscono le Ski Girls ed è tutto esaurito. Per cui Lex, poche gnole e muovi quel culo!”, mi dice Anya afferrandomi per un braccio e trascinandomi dentro.A questo punto non ho altra scelta, speriamo solo che non sia una catastrofe come già mi immagino.///Entriamo e veniamo subito accolte da una hostess del locale. Beh, oddio sarebbe più consono definirla cameriera, ma non sottilizziamo. Il suo abbigliamento succinto tipico di una ragazza pin-up, mi fa tornare alla mente le parole di Niylah di poco fa: ‘Non è mica uno strip club’. Forse no, ma poco ci manca!La ragazza ci fa strada, portandoci ad uno dei tavoli vicino al palco. Fantastico la situazione migliora di secondo in secondo, penso tra me e me!“Cosa posso portarvi ragazze?”, ci chiede educatamente la ragazza.“Tequila!”, urlano all’unisono le mie amiche.Se avessi una pala mi sotterrerei volentieri… ma come fanno queste tre scappate ad essere le mie migliori amiche? Proprio non me lo so spiegare!Mentre aspettiamo i nostri drink facciamo delle chiacchiere distratte, io sono intenta a guardarmi intorno. Osservo il posto come se cercassi, qualcosa o forse qualcuno, non ne ho idea.Dopo essermi scolata un paio di tequila, comincio a perdere un po’ di lucidità e tutto intorno a me acquista un colore diverso. La frivolezza è nell’aria, le risate sono più frequenti e i miei pensieri sono offuscati. Proprio quello che temevo… Costia, spero che riuscirai a perdonarmi, qualunque cosa queste incoscienti mi obblighino a fare! “Allora Lex, sei pronta per lo spettacolo?”, mi chiede Anya urlando per sovrastare il volume della musica.“Beh, direi di sì!”, rispondo titubante.“Allora girati che sta per cominciare!”, replica voltandomi verso il palco.Le musica e le luci si spengono di colpo lasciando un silenzio alquanto strano in sottofondo.Una voce femminile tuona nella sala.“Signore e signori benvenuti. Il Burlesque è orgoglioso di presentarvi le Ski Girls. A tutti voi, buon divertimento”.La sala si riempi di applausi e fischi incontrollati. E chi saranno mai queste Ski Girls? (Show me how you – Christina Aguilera) Una voce roca comincia ad intonare la canzone a cappella. Un fascio di luce inquadra una ragazza sdraiata sul palco, vedo il suo profilo in penombra nonostante la luce. Si gira di scatto mostrandosi al pubblico. Oh cazzo! È vestita con un corsetto succinto di colore rosso con i lacci neri, che scende morbidamente sui suoi splendidi fianchi fino ad incontrare il reggi calze. Definirla sexy e provocante è un eufemismo. Apro la bocca sbalordita da quella visione celestiale.Vengo scossa da dei brividi incontrollati lungo tutto il mio corpo, il cuore comincia a battermi forte, e mi sudano le mani. Ma che diavolo mi prende? Come se non avessi mai visto un donna con un corsetto da Burlesque? Io non me ne accorgo nemmeno, ma sento una mano sfiorami il mento e chiudermi la bocca.“Dovresti tenerla chiusa, altrimenti entrano le mosche?”, sussurra Anya al mio orecchio.Mi volto di scatto verso di lei e la fulmino con lo sguardo.“Ah dimenticavo, tieni il fazzoletto, non si sa mai… magari ti potrebbe far comodo, sai… potresti cominciare a sbavare!”.“Anya, ma la vuoi piantare!”, sbotto seccata tirandole una gomitata.L’attimo dopo mi giro e catalizzo di nuovo il mio sguardo su di lei. Dopo la prima strofa della canzone la base musicale parte ed è subito seguita dalle luci, che si accendono di colpo mostrando un bagliore impressionante. Al fianco della ragazza ce ne sono altre tre tutte vestite uguali che cominciano la loro coreografia sensuale.Non so neanche io il perché, ma il mio sguardo è focalizzato sulla solista, probabilmente la leader del gruppo. Non riesco a staccarle gli occhi di dosso. La sua voce roca mi manda in pappa il cervello, per non parlare dei suoi movimenti così sensuali e provocanti. Non so davvero cosa mi prenda. Vedere quella donna che canta e balla in modo così seducente mi scatena emozioni del tutto nuove, che non dovrei provare. Non so se per via della coreografia o perché si sentiva i miei occhi che le bruciavano addosso, ma si avvicina al nostro tavolo.I suoi bellissimi occhi azzurri si scontrano con i miei, ed è la fine. Comincia a ballare solo per me, o meglio questa è la mia speranza: che balli solo per me! I suoi fianchi sembrano vivere di vita proprio, si muovono sinuosamente seguendo la musica. Si abbassa e rialza lentamente sulle sue ginocchia avvicinandosi sempre di più a me. Sento un calore invadermi il basso ventre. Il mio povero cuore comincia a tampellarmi nel petto. Non contenta dell’effetto che sta avendo su di me, comincia ad aprire e a chiudere le gambe accarezzandole per tutta la loro lunghezza… giusto per farmi morire definitivamente. Devo ricordare a me stessa di respirare, cosa in questo momento è molto difficile. Infatti mi ritrovo in apnea. L’istante dopo è già rientrata al centro del palco tra le sue compagne, pronta per terminare la coreografia dello spettacolo.Prima che la musica finisca, la vedo guardarmi e farmi l’occhiolino. Ok, ho perso dieci anni di vita! Lexa, ma ti vuoi riprendere? Sembri una liceale alla sua prima cotta.Sono talmente persa, che non mi accorgo neanche che il loro numero è finito. Vengo risvegliata dalla suono della voce del locale, seguita a ruota da una gomitata di Echo.“Signore e Signori, fate un bel applauso alle Ski Girls. Clarke, Raven, Octavia e Harper, sono bellissime e bravissime, voi che ne dite?”, chiede retoricamente la voce che riecheggia nel locale. Clarke…. Allora è questo il tuo nome? Continuo a non respirare per causa tua. Ma che cosa mi stai facendo? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- CAPITOLO 2 “Cavolo ragazze, sono proprio bellissime... poi... WOW... la biondina non è niente male, vero Lexa?”, mi chiede Niylah, riportandomi con i piedi per terra.“Eh?! Sì... certo... è veramente bellissima!”, replico cercando di celare l’imbarazzo. Sì, è una parola!“Beh, io ho trovato più eccitante la ragazza ispanica. No, dico, ma avete visto che culo si ritrova?”, interviene Anya scatenando l’ilarità generale.“Ragazze, mi dispiace, ma proprio non c’è storia con la mora con gli occhi azzurri... ma avete visto il suo corpo? Sembra scolpito da una dea!”, interviene Echo dicendo la sua.“Comunque, tutto questo conferma la mia tesi…”, afferma Anya lasciando la frase a metà.“E quale sarebbe An?”, le chiedo curiosa.“Che abbiamo fatto bene ad organizzare la serata qui, e a trascinarti in questo posto!”, mi risponde con un sorriso divertito sulle labbra.“Ok, te lo concedo. Mi sto divertendo molto!”, ammetto.“Lex, non c’era bisogno di confermare l’ovvio… credo che a nessuna di noi sia sfuggito lo spettacolino riservato che la ballerina… Clarke, penso si chiami, abbia riservato solo per te!”, esclama Echo facendomi arrossire istantaneamente.“Sorella, ma la vuoi smettere di stressare la futura sposa… e tu Lexa non ti preoccupare, se dovesse farsi viva di nuovo la bionda ci penso io… tanto sono single!”, interviene Niylah con la sua tipica strafottenza.Onestamente non ne capisco il motivo, ma una rabbia incontrollata si scatena dentro di me, quasi io fossi gelosa di Niylah… ma con che razza di diritto posso provare questo tipo di sentimento? La cantante… Clarke... non è mia… e allora tutta questa irritazione mista al nervoso da dove saltano fuori?Mi alzo di scatto dalla sedia lasciando le mie amiche perplesse.“Devo andare in bagno”, dico secca.In realtà non ne ho bisogno, ma mi devo allontanare da loro. Ho paura di fare o dire qualcosa di cui mi pentirei.Giro senza meta nel locale. Accidenti è veramente immenso, ci si può perdere qui dentro. Trovo i servizi, ma non ci entro. Continuo nella mia perlustrazione, cercando solo Dio sa cosa.Sono completamente persa nei miei pensieri e non mi accorgo di essere arrivata ai camerini, dietro le quinte. Mi guardo intorno e leggo la scritta: “Vietato l’ingresso ai clienti”. Di bene in meglio. E adesso? “Tu e la tua voglia di evadere! Ben fatto Lexa! Sei veramente una stupida!”, mi rimproverò ad alta voce.“Io non credo affatto che tu sia stupida… Lexa… anzi… per me sei un vero schianto… la tua eleganza e il tuo portamento hanno ben poco a che fare con la stupidità!”, mi dice una voce roca alle mie spalle.Mi giro, cercando di celare l’imbarazzo, e mi scontro con quei magnifici occhi azzurri. Oddio… credo che mi serva dell’ossigeno.Io non riesco a spiaccicare una parola rimango lì, immobile, attonita da quella ragazza che mi ha appena rivolto un complimento. “Sai, normalmente i clienti, non potrebbero entrare qui… ma… io non sono mai stata ligia alle regole... mi sono sempre andate troppo strette... e poi...”, continua a dire con quella dannatissima voce sensuale che mi sta facendo letteralmente impazzire.Fa qualche altro passo verso di me ed io comincio a tremare.Si è cambiata il costume di scena, ora indossa un corsetto bianco con le autoreggenti nere, è veramente una visione. Il suo fisico è mozzafiato sembra scolpita da Venere in persona. Più si avvicina e più sono in affanno. Il cuore rischia di uscirmi dal petto se non mi dò una calmata. Non riesco a staccarle gli occhi di dosso, neanche fossi una maniaca pervertita.Il suo viso è ad un soffio dal mio, è le sue labbra carnose sono pericolosamente vicino al mio orecchio.“E… p... poi?”, balbetto in seria difficoltà.“E poi... sono curiosa... ti è piaciuto lo spettacolo? Sai l’ho fatto solo per te ed i tuoi splendidi occhi! Mi faceva impazzire il modo in cui mi guardavi… potevo sentire il tuo sguardo accarezzarmi il corpo dolcemente...”, mi sfiora il lobo con le labbra e sento le mie gambe cedere.Si allontana un attimo solo per poter inchiodare i suoi occhi nei miei.“E mi piace come mi stai guardando adesso... mi eccita da morire... ti piace quello che vedi?”, continua a provocarmi con la sua voce sensuale. Cos'è una domanda trabocchetto? “Sì... sei... sei bellissima”, sussurro.“Non sei una ragazza da Burlesque, vero?”.“Veramente è la prima volta che vengo... hanno organizzato tutto le mie amiche... per il mio...”, le parole mi muoiono in gola.“Per il tuo?”, mi incita mordendosi il labbro inferiore. Oddio, credo che potrei morire! All'improvviso sento un caldo allucinante, il mio corpo è in fiamme. Il mio basso ventre scalpita. Ma che cazzo mi succede?Si avvicina ancora ed ora le nostre labbra sono a pochi centimetri. Non riesco a pensare lucidamente, i miei ormoni sono completamente impazziti, per non parlare della mia libido!Non so con quale forza, ma riesco a finire la mia frase.“Per il mio addio al nubilato. Sabato prossimo mi sposo... con Costia... la mia fidanzata”.Il suo sguardo sembra deluso.“Ti sposi? … E la ami?”.“Sì… certo… se no… non la sposerei”, rispondo quasi automaticamente, anche se continuo a balbettare.Indietreggia di un passo distogliendo per un attimo lo sguardo, per poi, l’istante seguente, rinchiodare il suo azzurro nel mio verde. La sua intensità mi fa tremare, mi sento indifesa, come se mi volesse leggere dentro.“La ami, eh?! Ne sei sicura? La tua risposta non mi convince. Nei tuoi occhi c’è incertezza… ma dimmi una cosa… la ami come io amo i tuoi occhi? La ami come amo quando il tuo sguardo si posa sul mio corpo e sembra volermi mangiare? Proprio come stai facendo ora! La ami come amo il fatto di eccitarmi al solo pensiero di farmi toccare da te?”.Sento le sue parole toccarmi nel profondo, il mio corpo vive di vita propria… sono in affanno, ho il cuore a mille, e il calore mi sta letteralmente bruciando dentro.Il mio imbarazzo prende il sopravvento, non riesco a dire niente. L’unica cosa che riesco a fare è distogliere lo sguardo, per paura che lei potesse trovare da sola le risposte.Un’ora fa sarebbe stato semplice rispondere alle sue domande… ma adesso… non è così semplice, sono terribilmente confusa, la mia mente sa benissimo che Costia è l’amore della mia vita, ma allora perché il mio corpo mi dice tutt’altro?“Il tuo silenzio fa rumore Lexa… sento i tuoi dubbi tormentarti… segno che non sono andata troppo lontana dalla verità… ti farò solo un’altra domanda Lexa… poi, se vorrai, ti indicherò l’uscita…”.La sua voce continua a trapassarmi il cuore, non riesco a capire che cazzo mi stia facendo questa donna… è forse una strega? Ma che cavolo vai a pensare?“E sarebbe?”, le domando prendendo coraggio.Alza un sopracciglio quasi stupita della mia richiesta. Un sorriso malizioso le compare sul viso, ed io sono ufficialmente morta.“Credi nell’amore a prima vista?”. Ma che razza di domanda è?! “No, direi di no… Perché questa domanda?”.“Ero solo curiosa… ti va di accettare una sfida?”.“Del tipo?”.“Ti chiedo un’ora del tuo tempo… sono estremamente convinta di farti cambiare idea… se alla fine del nostro tempo insieme non crederai nell’amore a prima vista avrai vinto la sfida e potrai andartene da qui… ma se dovessi perdere la sfida… rimarrai con me tutta la notte”.L’ultima frase la dice ad un soffio dalle mie labbra. Oddio, anche la deglutizione è diventata difficile. Sospiro, cercando invano di prendere il controllo di me stessa. Rifletto su come venir fuori da questo casino… ma lo voglio veramente? Ogni centimetro del mio corpo dice il contrario, l’eccitazione sta prendendo il sopravvento… e poi, io non sono una codarda, se mi lanciano una sfida io l’accetto, fa parte della mia indole. Non so neanche io come, ma tiro fuori tutta la mia sfrontatezza.“Anche se mi sembra più un sequestro di persona, accetto la sfida!”.Il suo sorriso si allarga e, non so il perché, le sorrido a mia volta.Mi prende la mano e mi conduce in una camera poco distante.Le luci sono soffuse, mi sento avvolgere dall’atmosfera di questa stanza. Mi guardo intorno l’arredamento è essenziale: un divano appoggiato ad una parete, al centro un tavolo e qualche sedia, in un angolo uno stereo con le casse con di fianco un separé, probabilmente per cambiarsi. Il mio campanello d’allarme dovrebbe cominciare a suonare come impazzito, ma la cosa non succede.Il mio sguardo ritorna sulla bellissima donna che ho davanti. È ancora di spalle e mi sta ancora tenendo la mano. I miei occhi, quei bastardi traditori, si posizionano sul suo culo per una generosa sbirciata… il quale sembra parlarmi… ma che cavolo dico? Oddio, sono completamente andata! Il mio stato d’animo è in preda alla libido. Dentro di me un incendio sta divampando... e mi sta solo stringendo la mano. Cazzo… credo proprio di aver fatto una grossa cazzata ad accettare la sfida!Mi lascia la mano ed io ne sento già la mancanza. Qui si mette male!Posiziona una sedia in mezzo alla stanza e sposta il tavolo leggermente più distante.“Prego, accomodati sulla sedia!”, mi dice riportandomi alla realtà.Anche se titubante, mi metto a sedere. La vedo allontanarsi per accendere lo stereo. Osservo tutti i suoi movimenti scrupolosamente. Mi faccio ammagliare dalle sue curve, ed un’improvvisa voglia di toccare il suo bellissimo corpo mi assale. Le mie mani cominciano a sudare, un prurito incontrollato mi destabilizza... anche respirare sta diventando sempre più difficile. E non è ancora successo niente. Confermo… è stata proprio una pessima idea, accettare questa cazzo di sfida! “Sei pronta a giocare?”, mi chiede con la sua fottutissima voce roca. A giocare? “Le regole sono semplici: qualsiasi cosa io faccia, tu non puoi assolutamente toccarmi… potrai farlo solo se ammetterai che l’amore a prima vista esiste. È tutto chiaro?”.Annuisco timidamente, non perdendo, neanche per un attimo, il contatto con i suoi occhi.Non dovrebbe essere così difficile… Hellooo?!? C’è nessuno in quella testolina che ti ritrovi? No, dico, ma l’hai vista? Riesce ad essere sensuale anche solo respirando, quando parla poi, ti manda giù di testa, figuriamoci se balla solo per te… e poi genio, forse stai soprassedendo, ma il tuo basso ventre è già piuttosto accaldato... adesso… figuriamoci fra un’ora… Oh, cazzo!, Ok, non sarà per niente facile resisterle. (The Consequences of Falling - K.D. Lang) La musica parte ed io comincio a respirare a fatica. Inizia a cantare i versi della canzone ed io non capisco più niente. Cammina a ritmo di musica muovendo in modo provocante i fianchi. Si appoggia al tavolo e lo utilizza come palo. Le sue mani esplorano smaniose quel suo corpo divino… scivolano sul seno prosperoso per una generosa palpata… Dio, quanto vorrei essere io a stringerle i capezzoli! Beh, che dire? Non c’è male, sono durata circa 5 secondi…Quelle mani, tanto invidiate, scendono ancora più in basso… ora stanno accarezzando il ventre, ma non contente scivolano sul suo fascio di nervi. La sento gemere mentre canta… Vederla in quello stato mi eccita da morire, sento il fuoco ardermi dentro.Si gira di spalle e, appoggiandosi sul tavolo, si piega a novanti gradi mostrandomi il suo lato b. Muove il culo talmente bene che mi fa dimenticare persino il mio nome. La mia eccitazione è ad un picco storico, sono bagnatissima, sento che potrei venire da un momento all’altro, senza essere toccata. Ma che cazzo mi sta facendo questa donna? Oh dannazione, vorrei prenderla e farla mia, così da dietro, vorrei scoparmela duramente proprio in questo istante… Scuoto ripetutamente la testa cercando di riprendere un po’ di lucidità… ma la mia è una speranza vana. Quando si gira verso di me annego nel suo sguardo, si avvicina continuando a provocarmi con il suo corpo finché non si mette a sedere a cavalcioni su di me.Comincia a muovere i suoi fianchi scontrandosi con la mia intimità. Si avvicina pericolosamente al mio orecchio, e, sussurrandomi i versi della canzone, inizia a muoversi più velocemente… ♫ My hands tremble - Le mie mani tremano ♫♫ My heart aches - Mi fa male il cuore ♫♫ Is it you calling - E 'ti chiama ♫♫ Is it you calling - E 'ti chiama ♫ ♫ If I'm alone in this - Se sono sola in questa cosa ♫♫ I don't think I can face - Non penso di poterla affrontare ♫♫ The consequences of falling - Le conseguenze della caduta ♫ Credo che non resisterò ancora per molto! Ma cosa mi succede? Mi ha forse stregata? Mi fa dimenticare ogni cosa, di Costia, del mio amore per lei, del matrimonio! Quello che voglio in questo momento è solo lei, il suo corpo, la sua anima, il suo cuore. La brama che ho di lei sta diventando incontenibile, la voglio… voglio farla gemere finché non ha più voce, voglio assaggiare il suo nettare mentre urla il mio nome, voglio scoparmela talmente tanto fino a farla cadere esausta su di me. Lexa, ma che cazzo dici? La verità. Io voglio questa donna… ma la cosa più assurda è che credo non sia solo sesso… no, è molto di più, il mio cuore freme, i suoi sospiri mi mandano in estasi, e ogni parola che mi sussurra quasi mi fa venire… Sento quasi di essere connessa a lei, alla suo cuore, alla sua anima. Oh Gesù… ♫ Are you thinking - Stai pensando ♫♫ What I'm thinking - Quello che sto pensando ♫♫ Does your pulse – Il tuo battito ♫♫ Quicken like mine - è veloce come il mio ♫ ♫ Are you dreaming - Stai sognando ♫♫ What I'm dreaming - Quello che sto sognando ♫♫ I can't read your mind - Non posso leggere la tua mente ♫♫ One step towards you – Un passo verso di te ♫♫ Two steps back – e due indietro ♫♫ Feels like I'm crawling – Sento che sto strisciando ♫♫ Feels like I'm crawling – Sento che sto strisciando ♫ Mi continua a cavalcare come fossi uno stallone da corsa. Le sue mani mi toccano ovunque… finché non raggiungono il mio seno e cominciano a palparlo in modo audace. Un ansito strozzato sfugge dalla mia bocca. Vedo un’espressione compiaciuta comparire sul suo volto, ma non sembra ancora soddisfatta. Smette di cantare e si avvicina al mio orecchio, sfoderando la voce più sexy che io abbia mai sentito.“Ti piace quello che ti sto facendo?”. Oggi con le domande trabocchetto ci stiamo divertendo un mondo, eh?! Le mie mani cominciano ad essere irrequiete. Cerco di trattenermi da fare qualsiasi cosa, riesco solo ad annuire debolmente. Sento che sto per cedere alla tentazione, sto per perdere la sfida…I nostri occhi si incontrano e sento che potrei morire felice in questo preciso momento. Continua a strusciarsi su di me ed io sono al limite della sopportazione.“Mi stai facendo impazzire… mi ecciti da morire quando mi guardi così Lexa… sono tutta bagnata… se continui così… oh Dio… credo che verrò urlando il tuo nome…”.Sento il calore aumentare senza ritegno tra le mie gambe, fatico a trattenere gemiti. Quando la sua mano scivola sulle nostre intimità, urlo di piacere.“A quanto pare non sono l’unica che sta per esplodere… sei bagnatissima…”.Si avventa sul mio collo e comincia a leccarlo, alternando baci e morsi.“Sono ad un passo Lexa… sto per esplode in un magnifico orgasmo… sei sicura di non volermi toccare?”.Ora basta! Non ce la faccio più. Ha ragione lei l’amore a prima vista esiste ed ora credo di averne la certezza.“No… non sono più sicura di niente… di Costia, del mio amore per lei, del matrimonio…. so solo che il mio cuore batte talmente forte in questo momento che rischia di esplodere. Ma che cosa mi hai fatto, eh? Io voglio toccarti, voglio baciarti, ti voglio con tutta me stessa, e non solo per una scopata, ma per sempre…”, le parole mi escono incontrollate come un fiume in piena.Il suo sorriso si allarga e per me è giunta la fine.“Allora esiste l’amore a prima vista?”, mi chiede maliziosamente.“Sì, ora ne ho la certezza…”, replico senza neanche pensarci.“Hai perso la sfida… ora sei mia per tutta la notte… ”.Si avventa sulle mie labbra succhiandomi il labbro inferiore.“Sì…”, sussurro in preda al piacere.Mi lecca le labbra scivolando poi sul mento fino ad arrivare al mio orecchio. Mi morde il lobo e gemo sempre più forte.“Ora… io ordino e tu esegui…”.“Tutto quello che vuoi…”, ribatto in preda al piacere più incontrollato.“Toccami… fammi godere”, sussurra sulle mie labbra.Le afferro le natiche strizzandole con forza guidando la sua cavalcata su di me. Mi impossesso della sua bocca, cercando subito la sua lingua. La passione diventa sfrenata, non capisco più niente, voglio di più. Una mia mano si sposta sul seno e quando lo strizzo a dovere, la sento urlare contro la mia bocca.Le nostre intimità esplodono all’unisono e mi accorgo di aver raggiunto il paradiso.Entrambe siamo in affanno.“Comunque, io sono Clarke… nel caso avessi bisogno di urlare il mio nome stanotte”, la sua voce mi provoca e le sue labbra si incurvano all’insù maliziosamente.Continuiamo a guardaci negli occhi e ho come la sensazione che la nottata sia appena iniziata. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- CAPITOLO 3 “Quali sono i tuoi ordini mia signora?”, le dico con un sorriso malizioso, non abbandonando neanche per un istante il suo sguardo.Non so neanche io, dove mi sai uscita tutta questa audacia.“Voglio che ti spogli davanti a me… lentamente… molto lentamente”.Si alza dal mio grembo, allontanandosi di qualche passo fino a che non trova il bordo del tavolo, dove si appoggia. Le sue pupille sono dilatate, il suo sguardo è pieno di lussuria.Mi alzo in piedi e comincio a tirare giù la lampo con estrema lentezza…. poi mi sfilo l’unica manica che ho e lascio scivolare a terra il vestito. Rimango in intimo davanti a lei e la vedo deglutire. Slaccio il reggiseno e lo lancio ai suoi piedi. Faccio per togliermi il perizoma, ma la sua voce mi ferma.“No! Quello te lo tolgo io… ora spogliami”.Mi avvicino a lei lentamente. Quando sono ad un soffio dalle sue labbra le rubo un bacio. Mentre la distraggo, la faccio girare di scatto facendo aderire la sua schiena al mio corpo. Sussulta al mio gesto.Le accarezzo le braccia per tutta la loro lunghezza, finché non faccio incontrare le mie mani sul fiocco del corsetto, proprio sul suo seno. Una mano tira lentamente il laccio mentre l’altra si dedica a toccarla generosamente. La sento gemere, mentre fa cadere la testa all’indietro contro la mia spalla. Allento lentamente i lacci e le sfilo il corsetto. Arrivato ai piedi lo calcia abilmente via. Risalgo accarezzandole il corpo fino a che non arrivo al reggiseno. La libero di quel indumento scomodo e lo lancio a terra vicino agli altri ‘cadaveri’. La stringo a me. Comincio a toccarla audacemente, mentre le divoro il collo di baci, alternati a morsi gentili. I suoi ansiti sempre più incontrollati mi fanno eccitare sempre di più. La mia mano scivola verso il basso, andando a giocare con l’elastico del suo perizoma. Le mie dita esplorano il tessuto, con carezze delicate… la sento fremere al mio tocco. Mi afferra il collo e fa scontrare le nostre labbra, in un bacio esigente, quasi privo di dolcezza, mi morde le labbra facendole sanguinare, la nostra foga diventa irrefrenabile. A corto di aria le sue labbra si dirigono sul mio collo. I suoi sospiri sono musica per le mie orecchie.“Voglio che mi scopi… scopami fino a farmi urlare il tuo nome… fammi sentire quando mi vuoi… scopami Lexa, con tutta l’irruenza di cui sei capace…”.Le sue parole mi fanno eccitare ancora di più. Un sorriso malizioso compare sul mio viso. Le mordo il lobo dell’orecchio facendola gemere.“Sarà fatto mia signora, ma ora devi fare quello che ti dico… se no, non se ne fa niente”.“Farò tutto quello che vuoi, ma ti prego, fammi godere!”.Infilo una gambe tra le sue e l’aiuto a divaricarle.“Appoggia le mani al tavolo e piegati in avanti”, le sussurro.Esegue il mio comando sempre più vogliosa.Mi inginocchio tra le sue gambe baciando il suo corpo. Afferro il lembi del perizoma e glielo sfilo. Le mie mani si posizionano sulle sue natiche e con una leggera pressione faccio spazio per la mia bocca. Comincio a leccare la sua intimità succhiando la sua essenza. Mio Dio quanto è dolce, succosa. Cazzo… è totalmente bagnata! Lecco sempre più audacemente, fino a che non arrivo al suo clitoride lo succhio con forza e la sento urlare. “Cazzo Lexa… oddio, mi sta facendo morire… non ti fermare succhiami ti prego… sì… ancora… più forte”.Rido soddisfatta del piacere che le sto procurando. Quando la penetro con la lingua geme più forte, e d’impulso le schiaffeggio il culo cosa che mi procura un brivido.“Sto impazzendo Lexa, scopami… scopami… così… più veloce”.La schiaffeggio ancora la natica ed i suoi ansiti sono sempre più incontrollati.Sento che è vicina, ma non la voglio accontentarla subito, mi voglio divertire ancora un po’.Mi alzo in piedi di scatto e lei si lamenta subito.“Ma che fai?”, mi dice girando la testa e ricercando i miei occhi.“Clarke, ho appena iniziato, non hai idea di cosa tu abbia scatenato in me. Sono convinta che mi pregerai di smettere perché troppo esausta…”.Un sorriso malizioso compare sul suo viso.La stringo di nuovo a me facendo combaciare la mia intimità, ormai fradicia dei miei umori, al suo culo. Sussulta della mia presa. Le afferro un seno e comincio a stringerlo con forza. Torturo il capezzolo, ormai turgido, con insistenza. I suoi ansiti di piacere mi fanno impazzire sempre di più. Mentre muovo i fianchi contro il suo sedere, procurandomi piacere, l’altra mano scivola sulla sua apertura, gioco con il suo clitoride facendola fremere sempre di più.“Ti piace Clarke? Ti piace quello che ti sto facendo?”.“Sì…”, il suo è poco più di un sussurro.“Dimmi cosa vuoi che ti faccia? Lo voglio sentire… mi eccita la tua voce sensuale... proprio come la sua padrona...”.“Ti voglio dentro di me... oddio... Sco… Scopami…”.Non me lo faccio ripetere, infilo il primo dito seguito subito dal secondo, il ritmo è lento all’inizio, fatico a controllare le spinte, il suo culo mi sta facendo impazzire potrei venire in qualsiasi momento.“Oddio sì… sbattimi, ti prego, più forte… così… oddio, mi stai facendo godere…. sì… ti prego… scopami…. più veloce”.“Oddio, Clarke sei stupenda, sei così stretta, così calda, così bagnata… il tuo culo mi sta facendo venire…”.“Ci sono quasi… amore”. Amore? Mi ha chiamato amore? Sono ad un passo, le infilo il terzo dito e la sento sussultare, qualche altra spinta e la sento urlare il mio nome quando io comincio ad urlare il suo. L’orgasmo è arrivato nello stesso momento. Siamo entrambe in affanno, ma la mia voglia di lei non si è ancora esaurita.///Sprofondiamo sul divano nel vano tentativo di riprenderci.La tiro a me stringendola in un abbraccio.“È stato fantastico Clarke…”“Tu sei fantastica!”, ribatte facendomi arrossire.Non ci voglio credere dopo tutto quello che abbiamo condiviso, le sue parole riescono ancora ad imbarazzarmi. Sono proprio fatta alla rovescia?“Sei ancora più bella quanto ti imbarazzi”, continua avvicinandosi alla mia bocca. Cavolo Clarke, ma la vuoi piantare di ridurmi in questo modo? Cerco di uscire da questa situazione imbarazzante posando le mie labbra sulle sue. Il bacio al contrario dei precedenti è di una tenerezza disarmante.Mi stacco da quella dolce coccola ricordandomi di una cosa.“Ho sentito bene prima? Mi hai chiamato amore…”.“Sì, amore mio, ti ho chiamato proprio così… Prima non stavo solo cercando di sedurti, le pensavo veramente le parole che ho detto. Io credo nell’amore a prima vista… e sono più che convinta di essermi innamorata di te… dei tuoi occhi, della tua bocca, del tuo corpo, del modo in cui mi tocchi e di come pronunci il mio nome. Io ti amo…”.Le sue parole mi arrivano dritte al cuore, come la freccia di cupido, lasciandomi completamente spiazzata. Non riesco ancora ad esprimere ad alta voce quello che provo per lei, ma anche io sono convinta di amarla… e allora perché non riesco a dirglielo?Mi tolgo dall’imbarazzo impossessandomi delle sue labbra, per farle comunque capire che mi ha toccato nel profondo.La stringo a me sempre di più. Le nostre lingue si incontrano nuovamente, facendomi venire i brividi, e la passione ritorna a prendere possesso del mio corpo.In un attimo sono a cavalcioni su di lei. Il bacio diventa sempre più esigente, quasi famelico.“Terzo round?”, chiedo ridendo.“Io ci sto… ma tu sei ancora un po’ troppo vestita!”, esclama facendomi notare il perizoma.Mi alzo e lei con estrema lentezza me lo sfila, non perdendo mai il contatto con i miei occhi. Prima di gettarlo, tra gli inutili indumenti già sul pavimento, se lo porta al viso e annusa la mia essenza. Quel gesto mi fa impazzire.“Hai un odore magnifico...”.Rapidamente ritorno sulle sue gambe. Inizio a baciarle il collo, scivolando sulla clavicola, i gemiti di approvazione mi incitano a continuare la mia esplorazione.Afferro un seno in bocca e comincio a leccarlo con movimenti circolari. Le mani di Clarke annegano nei miei capelli, premendomi la testa contro il suo petto, esigendo più contatto. Prendo il capezzolo, ormai turgido, tra i denti e lo mordo dolcemente. “Oddio… no ci crederai ma sono già eccitatissima… mi fai uno strano effetto”, sussurra al mio orecchio.Ribalta le posizioni, troneggiando su di me, esattamente come poche ore fa.“Cosa vuoi Lexa?”.“Voglio te”.“Risposta esatta!”.Comincia a baciarmi il collo scendendo giù fino al seno, mi lecca un capezzolo, mentre con la mano mi stimola l’altro, un suono strozzato mi esce dalla bocca. Scende verso il basso tracciando la sua rotta con la lingua, il mio corpo freme al suo tocco.Si inginocchia davanti a me e mi divarica le gambe.“Voglio sentire il tuo sapore…”, mormora inchiodando i suoi occhi ai miei.L’istante dopo la sue lingua è sul mio clitoride. Impazzisco letteralmente quando comincia a leccarlo.Continua a guardarmi dritta negli occhi per vedere ogni più piccola reazione. Gemo continuamente, ma urlo dal piacere quando me lo morde. Il suo tocco è travolgente. Quando scivola sulla mia apertura, cominciando a nutrirsi del mio nettare, perdo il sennò della ragione.“Sei così buona Lexa… non mi stancherei mai di leccarti… il tuo miele è così dolce”“Oddio, Clarke… ti prego… più veloce... mi stai facendo impazzire…”.Continua ad entrare dentro di me con la sua lingua facendomi godere in modo assurdo. I miei ansiti l’appagano spronandola a penetrarmi più duramente.“Sento che potrei venire solo guardandoti... sei bellissima quando ti contorci dal piacere…”“Ti prego Clarke... scopami… non ce la faccio più”, la mia voce è poco più di un sussurro.Ritorna a succhiarmi il clitoride duramente... ed io sono sempre più vicina. Senza preavviso mi penetra con due dita iniziando a scoparmi con foga.Sussulto per la sua irruenza, ma il piacere che mi sta dando sta compensando ogni cosa, si rimette a cavalcioni su di me continuando a sbattermi sempre più forte. Si impossessa delle mie labbra per qualche bacio distratto, i nostri occhi non smettono di fissarsi. Con la sua mano libera si afferra un suo seno ed inizia toccarsi audacemente. L'immagine che ho davanti mi fa aumentare la libido, come se fosse ancora possibile.“Ti piace quello che vedi?”, mi chiede continuando a scoparmi senza ritegno.“Sì… sei… stupenda… oddio ci sono quasi… amore, più veloce”. Oddio, l’ho chiamata amore? Ancora qualche spinta ed esplodo inondandole le dita con il mio nettare. Pochi istanti dopo la sento urlare raggiungendomi nella vetta più alta.Le sue dita escono da me ed io mi sento subito vuota. Si porta la mano alla bocca e non so con quale forza, ma inizia a leccarle con estrema malizia.“Sei buonissima, amore mio!”.“Fammi sentire”.L’attiro a me e la bacio assaporando me stessa nella sua bocca.Quando sciolgo quel tenero contatto annego nel suo sguardo.E le parole escono senza il minimo sforzo.“Ti amo Clarke”.Stavolta è lei che rimane senza parole e si rimpossessa della mia bocca.“Ti amo Lexa”, sussurra sulla mie labbra.Rimaniamo abbracciate strette e dopo poco ci addormentiamo. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- CAPITOLO 4 Una fastidiosa vibrazione disturba il mio sonno. Apro gli occhi a fatica e vedo Clarke che mi stringe ancora forte. Sorrido nel vederla ancora addormentata. È veramente bellissima.Il rumore non cessa. Probabilmente è il mio telefono.Cerco di svincolarmi dal suo abbraccio per andare a recuperalo sorprendendomi della mia agilità.Guardo il display e sembra un albero di natale: 28 chiamate perse e 20 messaggi su Whatsapp.Apro il registro chiamate e vedo che 26 sono di Anya mentre le altre due sono di Costia. Oddio Costia! Il senso di colpa mi assale. L’ho tradita ad una settimana dal matrimonio. Mi volto a guardare Clarke e solo per un attimo mi pento della serata appena trascorsa.Scuoto la testa incessantemente. Mi dispiace per Costia, ho sempre pensato che fosse lei l’amore della mia vita, ma non lo è.Io amo perdutamente Clarke. E non so neanche come tutto questo sia potuto succedere, ma dal primo momento in cui ho incrociato i suoi occhi, ho capito che lei è tutto il mio mondo.Nonostante io continuassi a negare la cosa, l’amore a prima vista esiste ed io ne sono la prova.Devo annullare il matrimonio. Farò soffrire Costia me ne rendo conto, ma la mia felicità è Clarke, solo con lei mi sento viva. La continuo a guardare e vedo il suo corpo scosso da dei brividi. Probabilmente ha freddo.Afferro una coperta e gliela rimbocco.Mi rivesto velocemente. Controllo rapidamente i messaggi e tutti dicono più o meno la stessa cosa a parte la buonanotte di Costia: ma dove sei finita? che cavolo ti è successo?Afferro il cellulare e chiamo Anya.Squilla diverse volte.“MA DOVE CAZZO SEI SPARITA? LO SAI VERO CHE CI HAI SPAVENTATA A MORTE E CHE, SE NON FOSSE STATO PER LA BELLISSIMA ISPANICA CHE ADESSO È AL MIO FIANCO, AVREI CHIAMATO LA POLIZIA?”, mi urla contro talmente tanto che sono costretta ad allontanare il telefono dall’orecchio.“Frena, frena, frena, chi?”, le chiedo sgranando gli occhi. “Ehi Lex, mica solo tu rimorchi! Comunque, se lo vuoi sapere si chiama Raven, e fa parte delle Ski Girls... ed è una delle migliori amiche della bionda... immagino che ora tu sia con lei, vero?” Caspita dritta al sodo! Da lei non mi aspettavo altro.“Già, siamo ancora al club. Lei sta ancora dormendo. Anya ieri notte è successa una cosa… diverse a dire la verità...”, le parole mi muoiono in gola.“Ti prego, risparmiami i dettagli”.“Non fare l’idiota, ho bisogno del tuo aiuto... credo di essermi innamorata di lei!”. “Lex, ma non dire fesserie, non la conosci neanche da 24 ore come puoi già amarla? Poi, scusa se te lo ricordo, ma fra una settimana, ti sposi!”. “Credi che non lo sappia Anya?! Non so come spiegartelo, ma lei mi ha colpito l'anima, quando sono al suo fianco passa tutto in secondo piano... ero convinta che Costia fosse l'amore della mia vita, ma mi sbagliavo. È lei... è Clarke l’unica per me”. “Ma cosa ti fatto questa bionda? Il lavaggio del cervello?”. “Smettila Anya! Io la amo e lei ama me. Ora devo solo dirlo a Costia e annullare il matrimonio”. “Solo, eh?” “Ho bisogno del tuo aiuto Anya...”. “Ok, ti aiuterò, ma non sarò la tua ambasciatrice... troveremo un modo per sistemare tutto, tranquilla Lex!”. “Grazie Anya”. “E di che?! Se no a cosa servono le migliori amiche!”. Saluto Anya e mi volto verso Clarke.Incrocio il suo sguardo e comincio a tremare. Probabilmente ha sentito tutto... ieri notte spero solo di non essermi immaginata tutto. Si avvolge nella coperta e viene verso di me.Il mio corpo continua a tremare. Ennemila dubbi esplodono nella mia testa. Clarke si avvicina di qualche passo e, come se avvertisse i miei timori, mi sorride dolcemente, ed io mi sciolgo in un attimo.“Ti amo Lexa... ora e sempre”, sospira mentre mi accarezza il viso.Il cuore comincia a tampellarmi nel petto. Vengo avvolta da una sconfinata felicità e, d’istinto, le sorrido senza pensare alle conseguenze.“Ti amo Clarke”.Mi avvicino al suo viso e la bacio lasciandomi trasportare dai sentimenti che provo per lei.///Ho sempre amato il film Matrix, ma, fino a quella schifosissima mattina, non avevo compreso veramente il significato delle parole di Morpheus.– “Hai mai fatto un sogno tanto realistico da sembrarti vero? E se da un sogno così non ti potessi più svegliare, come potresti distinguere il mondo dei sogni da quello della realtà?” –“Lexa… Lexa… ti prego, svegliati… mi stai spaventando!”, sento la voce di Costia ovattata, ci metto un po’ a realizzare cosa stia succedendo.“Lexa…”, mi chiama ancora.Gli occhi si aprono piano e subito un fascio di luce mi abbaglia. Mi guardo intorno cercando di capire dove mi trovo. Mi sento persa, spaesata. Mi giro verso il suono della voce che mi richiama e vedo Costia che, preoccupata, mi accarezza il viso. È già vestita, con il suo tailleur elegante, pronta per uscire.Continuo a guardarla sbigottita. Il mio cervello è un groviglio di pensieri. Ho ennemila domande in testa e nessuna risposta.“Lexa, mi hai spaventato a morte… ti sei lamentata tutta notte e non riuscivo a svegliarti, probabilmente hai avuto un incubo”.“Incubo?”, le faccio eco non capendoci più niente. Ma di cosa diavolo sta parlando? Perché sono a casa con Costia? Dove diavolo è Clarke? No, non può essere vero?! Non posso essermi sognata ogni cosa! Disperata mi afferro la testa tra le mani cercando di calmarmi. Ho il cuore a mille e faccio fatica a respirare. Ditemi che è uno scherzo, vi prego? Come può la mia mente essersi immaginata tutto? Come? Le emozioni che ho provato stanotte erano vere, dannatamente reali, il mio cuore rischiava di esplodere. Io amo Clarke. Non è possibile che tutto quello che ho sentito fosse solo frutto della mia immaginazione. NO! Non ci credo!“Lexa, tesoro… Che ti succede? Mi stai spaventando!”.“Costia, che giorno è oggi?”.“È sabato 24, fra poche ore ho l'aereo per andare dai miei, non ti ricordi più?” Oh Gesù, ma questo è un incubo… ed io non riesco a svegliarmi! “No, non è possibile!”, esclamo alzandomi di scatto dal letto.Comincio a girare nervosamente per la camera.“Lexa, dannazione mi vuoi dire che cavolo ti succede?”, sbotta quasi irritata la mia fidanzata.“Io ti ho accompagnato all’aeroporto ieri mattina Costia, questo è quello che è successo ieri! E non ho avuto un incubo, lo sto avendo ora…”, una lacrima scivola sulla mia guancia.“Ho vissuto la più bella esperienza che mi potesse capitare, solo per vedermela scivolare tra le dita... perché era solo un bellissimo sogno…”, sussurro l’ultima parola come a voler negare l’evidenza.“E cosa hai sognato se è lecito saperlo?”, mi chiede Costia con un tono quasi accusatorio.Sospiro, tentando di trattenere le lacrime. Come posso farla soffrire per un sogno? Clarke non era reale… era solo frutto della mia fantasia… ma ciò non toglie che ho tradito la mia fidanzata, anche se ‘solo’ in un sogno, in un bellissimo sogno... ma l’ho fatto... l'ho tradita. Mi sento l’essere più meschino di questo mondo. E non so cosa fare. I miei sentimenti per Costia, non sono più gli stessi. Sì, la amo ancora, ma non tanto da sposarla. Non posso continuare questa bugia, col tempo ci distruggerebbe entrambe. Ed io non posso farle questo, non posso!“In quel sogno io… io ti ho tradita con un’altra donna!”, le dico distogliendo lo sguardo.Rimane scioccata dalla mia confessione e le ci vuole un po’ per realizzare quello che le ho detto.“CHE COSA? Ed è questo l’incubo che stai vivendo… non quello? Fammi capire, ti sei scopata una sconosciuta in un fottutissimo sogno e adesso la tua vita reale non ti va più bene? Io non ti basto più… la tua cazzo di fidanzata non ti eccita più come un tempo, e ti devi rifugiare nei sogni per soddisfare la tua libido?”.Ascolto le sue urla senza sapere cosa dire. Qualsiasi cosa le dicessi sarebbe inutile. Non è una questione di sesso, è che non la amo più come prima, il problema non è lei… il problema sono io. Non voglio fare soffrire nessuno, ma non credo che questa situazione possa andare avanti oltre.“CAZZO LEXA! Credo di meritarmi un po’ di più del tuo silenzio!”.La sento urlare e non riesco più a trattenermi.“Costia che cosa vuoi che ti dica, eh? Che mi dispiace? Ok, mi dispiace… ma non è dipeso da me. Anche se non è per quello che mi dispiace… Costia io non ti amo più come prima, è questo di cui sono dispiaciuta. Non so come sia successo, ma quel sogno mi ha aperto gli occhi. Ho provato dell’emozioni di cui non sapevo neanche l’esistenza, talmente intense da farmi tremare. E mi dispiace dirtelo così, ma è la sconosciuta del sogno che, per la prima volta dopo tanto tempo, mi ha fatto sentire viva”.Vedo Costia accusare il colpo. Ha gli occhi lucidi, probabilmente cerca di trattenere le lacrime. Mi aspetto un’altra sfuriata, ma non arriva.“Immagino che sia finita, quindi?”, il suo è poco più di un sussurro.“Sì, non posso farti soffrire ancora!”, replico di getto.“Sai una cosa, Lexa? Vai a farti fottere, tanto quello ti riesce bene anche in sogno!”.Si sfila l’anello di fidanzamento e me lo lancia addosso. Afferra la sua borsa ed il suo trolley ed esce di corsa dalla camera sbattendo la porta.Le lacrime continuano a rigarmi il volto, non riesco a fermarle. Non so bene se sto piangendo per quello che ho fatto a Costia o per Clarke, la donna di cui mi sono innamorata in un sogno.Sento la vibrazione fastidiosa del mio telefono rompere il silenzio della stanza.Rispondo distrattamente senza neanche prendermi il disturbo di guardare chi fosse.“Ehi Lex, buongiorno! Pronta per il tuo addio al nubilato?”, la voce squillante di Anya mi riporta alla realtà, anche se avrei preferito vivere in quel sogno.“No, non sono pronta! Anya... ho lasciato Costia!”.Siamo rimaste al telefono per circa un paio d’ore. Le ho raccontato ogni cosa scoppiando a piangere moltissime volte. Nonostante le mie numerose proteste, mi ha convinto ad uscire lo stesso stasera. Mi ha assicurato all’infinito che per nessun motivo al mondo mi avrebbero trascinato al Burlesque. In fondo che ci sarebbe stato di male?! Magari avrei trovato quello che cercavo. ///Il mio umore peggiora di minuto in minuto così decido di andare a correre per distrarmi un po’. Faccio il mio solito giro nel parco e poi, stanca, comincio a camminare. Sono distratta dalle vetrine dei negozi e dai passanti che girano. Uno strano rumore proveniente dal mio stomaco mi fa gentilmente notare che ho saltato il pranzo.L’ironia della sorte a volte è strana... infatti mi guardò intorno e di là dalla strada vedo una tavola calda. Attraverso avendo cura di non farmi asfaltare. Non so se lo sapete, ma il traffico di Chicago è veramente impossibile. Appena arrivata davanti al locale, leggo l’insegna Ski Girls Diner. Sorrido amaramente per non piangere ed entro. A volte il destino è veramente crudele.Ci sono diversi tavoli liberi (capirai sono le tre del pomeriggio, chi vuoi che mangi a quest’ora… solo una cogliona… tu!), scelgo quello vicino alla vetrata, così posso continuare a guardare fuori.Afferro il menù e decido per un semplice hamburger e patate fritte. Sono talmente assorta nei pensieri che non mi accorgo della presenza di qualcuno, in piedi, vicino a me.Sentendomi fissare, mi giro e mi scontro con quel azzurro… No, questo è impossibile! È lei... è Clarke…Anche la sua espressione sembra sorpresa, come se avesse visto un fantasma. Oddio, forse sto impazzendo, o forse sto ancora sognando. Istintivamente mi dò un pizzicotto controllo che sia tutto vero, prima di impantanarmi di nuovo in un altro sogno ad occhi aperti.“Clarke… sei tu?”, sussurro senza controllare le mie parole.Le sue mani tremano e dopo poco le cade a terra il blocco per gli ordini.“Lexa…”, mormora incredula.In quel momento sono tornata a vivere. Ho ritrovato il mio amore e lei ha trovato me, quante possibilità c’erano che accadesse? Pari a zero, ma è successo ed io ringrazio il destino che mi ha permesso ti trovare il mio vero ed unico amore: Clarke.Possono due persone essere talmente collegate da fare lo stesso sogno, nello stesso momento? Beh, a noi due è successo e, a distanza di anni, non potrei essere più felice di aver trovato la mia anima gemella.Il scetticismo contro il destino non può vincere. Sorrido ripensando alle parole di Luce in un altro dei miei film preferiti Imagine me and you. – Credo che te ne accorgi subito. È sufficiente che i tuoi occhi... E tutto quello che succede da lì in poi, provino soltanto che hai avuto ragione dal primo momento, quando ti sei reso conto che da incompleto sei diventato uno intero. – THE END
10371129	It Wont be a Stylish	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Alex Kamal, Amos Burton", "Fandom": "The Expanse (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by asocialconstruct", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-19T00:00:00", "words": "1,735", "Additional Tags": "First Time, Accidental Marriage, Fluff, Alcohol, implied past sex work, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spit As Lube", "Relationship": "Amos Burton/Alex Kamal", "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 }	“Ah hell,” Alex groaned, rolling over to find Amos peacefully asleep in his bunk, looking more angelic than that dumb fuck had any right to. The room stank like booze and sweat, clothes thrown everywhere and shit in disarray like they'd both stumbled in too blind drunk for either of them to find the top bunk.That might not be too bad; the last thing Alex remembered was stumbling out of the bar with his arm over Amos' shoulders, telling Amos he loved him. Might not be too bad, except that Amos lay on his belly with his boxers half down his ass, looking content and satisfied with his pretty goddamn lashes dark against his pinked cheeks.Then, like he could hear Alex thinking, Amos opened his eyes. “Hey,” he said, cheek still pressed to the pillow like he hadn't been dead asleep just a half second before. “Did we fuck?”“Shit,” Alex said, sitting up, either the hangover or the rest of it making the room sway. “Shit.”“Cause I ain't sore, are you?” Amos said, like Alex wasn't having an existential fucking crisis right at that goddamn moment.“No,” Alex said, half relief that they probably hadn't fucked and half offended at the implication that he'd fuck anyone to make it hurt, even if both of them were blind drunk.“Well that's good. You wanna do me?” Amos said, rolling on his back to put an arm under his head. Casual, like he was asking if Alex wanted a beer.“Fuck no, why the fuck would I—”“We're married, ain't we?” Amos said. “That's what married people do.” And he said it in that goddamn guileless way he had, like it was just an innocent statement of fact when it was really a loaded question with all kinds of baggage and history behind it Alex didn't want to even start to fathom.But— “The fuck do you mean, married?” Alex said.Amos gave him a look, like, catch the fuck up, brother, and pointed across the room at a cheap photo and certificate. Certificate of marriage, Mr. and Mr. Alex and Amos Burton-Kamal, Alex and Amos both grinning like idiots and arms around each other barely able to stand in some seedy wedding chapel. “You fuckin' asshole, you think that's fucking funny—” Alex started.“Hell no,” Amos said, cheerful like. “I don't remember a goddamn thing about it, wasn't my idea.”Alex blew out a breath, deflated. Scrubbed a hand over his hair. At least they'd both fucked up together, now they just had to figure out how to sort it all out. “Fuck,” he said, flopping back on the bunk next to Alex.“Sure,” Amos said, and turned on their shared pillow to kiss him.Alex's cock, goddamn it, perked right up at that, and he could feel Amos smile against his mouth as Alex's dick poked him in the hip. Amos kissed like the pretty hookers he'd sent after Alex but the smile made all the difference, like Amos wasn't just playing him for cash even though he kissed like it.And—fuck it. Alex wrapped a hand around Amos' thickening cock, the head of it heavy and slick in his hand despite the unfamiliar angle. He gave Amos' cock a couple of experimental tugs, slow and easy like when Alex was trying to make it last in the shower.Amos pulled back, laughing at him. “You never fucked a guy before, have you?” he said. “Just 'cause you yank it one way doesn't mean everybody does.”Alex sputtered at that, blush spreading down his chest, but Amos just leaned in and kissed him again, shoving Alex's boxers off him as he kicked out of his own. Put one callused hand over Alex's on his cock, guiding Alex through stroking Amos' cock fast and rough. Alex shuddered despite himself, squeezing his eyes shut against the image of Amos spread out on a bunk alone like this, jerking himself hard and fast.“So you wanna do me?” Amos said, pulling back as Alex panted and tried to get his scrambled brains together.“Ah hell,” Alex said, leveraging himself up, joints creaking.Amos blinked up at him, face blank before he decided to be pleased. He looked up at Alex with big eyes, too trusting and vulnerable for all that Amos could break his goddamn neck in a second if he wanted to.“This okay?” Alex said, suddenly uncertain even with Amos' cock hard and flushed against his belly.“Sure,” Amos said, smile bright as he turned over. “Never had honeymoon sex before.”“Shut up,” Alex said, and promptly got shut up himself by the sight of Amos hollowing his cheeks around his own fingers and sticking them up his ass, fingering himself open. Enthusiastic and professional, like he was used to getting himself slicked up as quick as possible in dirty rooms that stank like liquor and unwashed laundry. The thought went straight to Alex's dick and he shoved it down, into a little box where he resolved to never look at it again. Not straight on, anyway, not in the light of day.“All set,” Amos said cheerfully, tipping his hips up and bringing his arms up to pillow his head. Goddamn cherubic except for all that thick muscle.Alex blew out a steadying breath, trying to clear his mind of all the reasons this was a bad idea as he spit in his hand and slicked his cock. He spread a hand on Amos' ass, squeezing despite himself and pushing a thumb into the tight heat of Amos' hole.Amos shuddered minutely, a shiver running through him and that near broke Alex right there, breaking through Amos' usual blank facade. He fucked Amos with his thumb slowly, more to assure himself that Amos was open and ready than to actually get him ready.Then Amos, that dumb fuck, pushed his ass back into Alex's hands and gave him a look over his shoulder. Hurry the fuck up, dumbshit.Alex took a breath and lined himself up, steadying himself in. Tightened his hands and took a sharp breath at the tight wet heat on his cock, ignoring the self-satisfied noise Amos made as Alex eased into him. Alex smoothed a hand up Amos' broad back, selfishly more for himself than Amos, who'd pretend to be pleased no matter what Alex did. Unless he decided to throttle Alex for something.“I ain't made of glass,” Amos said, shoving himself back on Alex's cock until Alex was buried to the hilt in him. Alex shuddered, bowing over Amos' back at the sudden, overwhelming urge to fuck him into the mattress and make the smug fuck just shut the hell up for once.Amos laughed like an idiot when Alex put a hand on his shoulder, flexing his hand on Amos' thick muscle as he started fucking him in earnest. Alex fumbled for Amos' cock, satisfied at the surprised jolt that shivered through Amos as Alex started to jerk him roughly. Amos spread his knees for it, head tipped down against the mattress and sweat beading along his sides and back as Alex fucked him. Like fucking a goddamn steel wall, trying to find all the little cracks in the facade and take the whole thing apart.Amos came with a shivery, wounded little sound against the sheets, eyes squeezed shut as Alex stroked him through it. Tried to hesitate and then didn't, Amos shoving back against him as Alex's hips stuttered, uncertain with Amos shuddering under him until Amos opened one eye to glare back at him.And then Alex regretted every goddamn choice that led him to that moment, hands spread wide on Amos' thick ass and all thought burned out of him as Amos fucked back against him like he had something to prove. Even bent over with his ass in the air, Amos was as much in control as he ever was, moment of vulnerability be damned. Alex stuttered to a stop with Amos pulled back against him, grinding into the tight heat of his ass with all his strength as Amos tried to drive them. But Alex was meaner and stronger if only because of the angle, holding Amos back against him still and steady until he'd finished.Amos blew out a breath when Alex finally pulled out of him, rolling over onto his back stinking of sweat and goddamn beautiful with the way he blushed all the way down to his softening cock. Alex lay next to him huffing like he'd just run in full g, feeling old and guilty as fuck. He rubbed a hand over his face, listening to the hum of the ship and Amos' breathing.“What're we gonna tell Naomi?” Amos said in the sudden quiet. He stared up at the bunk above, still and flat as ever. Like being in bed with a goddamn planet, he made his own gravitational well, pulling Alex toward him without moving himself.Alex sat up, pulling his knees to his chest so he could rub his face. “We're not gonna fuckin' tell anybody anything because we're gonna go right back on station and get divorced,” Alex said, hangover starting to pound now that his dick wasn't in control.Alex felt it more than saw it, that little frisson of emotion that went through Amos before it got pushed down behind his usual amiable mask.Amos laughed, a beat too late. “Knew you were a love 'em and leave 'em type, just didn't think you'd be that quick about it,” he said, still staring up at the top bunk with that blank, pleasant look like they were just shooting the shit. Alex wanted to punch his goddamn teeth in.“Fuck,” Alex muttered, rubbing his face. He flopped down next to Amos, pulling him into a rough spoon despite the sticky heat. “Shut up and go back to sleep, I'm too hungover to deal with this shit.”“Sure thing,” Amos said, pleasant and bland except for the way he snuggled back against Alex's chest. He was too big, too broad, to spoon properly, but Alex cuddled the hell out of him anyway.When they stumbled out of bed later, Alex struggling into clothes and Amos cheerful as fuck as they both made their way to the ship's shared showers, Alex didn't bring up the divorce and neither did Amos.
10324964	Baby Misunderstanding	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Erica Reyes, Alan Deaton, Lydia Martin", "Fandom": "Teen Wolf (TV)", "Language": "Italiano", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by apollo41", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-16T00:00:00", "words": "1,993", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mpreg, Discussion of Abortion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Virgin Stiles Stilinski, Alpha Derek, Pack Mother Stiles Stilinski, Pack Dynamics, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Post-Season/Series 02, Magical Accidents", "Relationship": "Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Drabble Events' Fills", "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 }	Baby Misunderstanding Prompt: Derek/Stiles - Mpreg, Stiles scopre di essere incinta di Derek ma non sa come sia potuto succedere visto che la V-card è ancora in suo possesso.Note: L'idea iniziale era di scriverci del crack, ma dopo qualche riga m'è virata di brutto nell'angst. PS: Non c'è Scott perché non mi andava di mettercelo. Stiles boccheggiò senza parole, ma nessuno commentò al riguardo con sarcasmo come avrebbero fatto in qualsiasi altra situazione. Stavolta, però, l'intero branco era ammutolito per la stessa ragione per cui neppure Stiles riusciva a trovare parole. Perfino Jackson non era riuscito a reagire con sarcasmo alla notizia immediatamente! Certo, era infine scoppiato a ridere così forte da esser crollato a terra risvegliando tutti dalla trance, ma aveva pur sempre avuto bisogno di qualche istante per assorbire l'idea.Boyd gli diede una leggera ginocchiata alla schiena e Jackson cercò di ricomporsi, soprattutto quando Lydia gli lanciò un'occhiataccia.“No, deve dirlo ancora una volta, doc. E uno di voi con il super udito mi deve assicurare che Deaton non stia mentendo perché sono convinto di aver avuto un aneurisma e di essere passato a miglior vita.” disse tutto d'un fiato Stiles, le mani inconsciamente strette al proprio grembo.“Sei in dolce attesa del cucciolo del tuo Alpha.” ripeté perlomeno per la terza volta negli ultimi dieci minuti Deaton.“Vedi?” esclamò Stiles voltandosi verso suddetto Alpha, che fissava la foto dell'ecografia che Deaton gli aveva fatto poco prima e che ancora Derek stringeva tra le mani. “Non ha nessun senso, Derek! Devi dirglielo! Insomma, anche se volessimo ignorare il fatto che sono un uomo quindi non sono dotato dell'attrezzatura per ospitare un bambino, non abbiamo mai neppure-!” Stiles si bloccò, arrossendo all'improvviso all'involontaria ammissione.“Aspetta, Stilinski, vuoi dire che sei ancora vergine?” chiese Jackson. Al silenzio di Stiles continuò. “Oddio, lo sei!”Jackson scoppiò a ridere di nuovo e Stiles si rannicchiò ancora di più su se stesso, sentendosi umiliato come mai prima d'ora. Stavolta sia Boyd che Lydia diedero un pugno a Jackson, che li fissò oltraggiato prima di sbuffare e uscire dalla stanza borbottando qualcosa riguardo gli ormoni e la gravidanza.“Com'è potuto succedere?” chiese quindi Lydia.Deaton scrollò le spalle. “Ho una teoria al riguardo, ma è una situazione quasi unica nel suo genere.”Derek finalmente parve risvegliarsi dalla sua trance e fissò il veterinario con sguardo minaccioso. “Voglio una risposta seria, non queste stronzate Deaton!”Il branco si voltò a guardare il proprio Alpha, stupito da quel tono autoritario. Nonostante fossero fedeli al loro Alpha, erano quasi tutti convinti che Derek non sarebbe mai stato un vero Alpha; eppure, per la prima volta, sentirono un forte senso di orgoglio e appartenenza al suo branco. Ne fu una conferma anche la comparsa di Jackson di nuovo sulla soglia della stanza.Deaton rimase a fissare Derek negli occhi per lunghi istanti, poi sorrise e annuì, quasi approvasse il suo comportamento. “È probabile che dipenda dalla scintilla di magia di Stiles. Ora che fa parte di un branco, il suo potere è più forte. Ma il branco è poco numeroso e instabile. Un cucciolo istiga un senso di protezione nei membri del branco, li unisce attorno alla madre durante la gravidanza. Crea un legame duraturo, che rende più forte il branco e di conseguenza la magia di Stiles in un ciclo che rigenera altro potere per il branco.”Per qualche istante calò di nuovo il silenzio, poi Derek sospirò come se il mondo gli fosse crollato addosso e avesse appena respirato per l'ultima volta prima di venir schiacciato. Stiles lo osservò con la coda dell'occhio e si morse il labbro, cercando di trattenere la delusione che minacciava di coglierlo. Derek sembrava così stanco...“Quindi è colpa mia se...” si interruppe per un istante, le braccia ancora strette al proprio ventre. Prese un respiro profondo, prima di continuare. “C'è un modo per, non lo so, evitare che la mia magia di testa sua decida che ho bisogno di più potere? O perlomeno un metodo per...” fece una pausa, poi si forzò a continuare. “Come posso liberarmi di questa cosa?” chiese.Isaac, che era stato in piedi accanto a lui fino a quel momento, emise un guaito a bocca chiusa, gli si avvicinò ancora di più. Il resto del branco reagì più silenziosamente, ma dal modo in cui tutti avevano fatto un passo verso di lui, Jackson compreso, Stiles capì che si erano sentiti tutti a disagio per quelle parole.Si voltò verso Derek, ma l'Alpha era sparito oltre la porta di emergenza che si affacciava sul retro dello studio veterinario. Stiles sentì gli occhi riempirsi di lacrime, convinto di aver ricevuto la risposta alla domanda che non aveva voluto porre a Derek: per quanto Stiles fosse stato sotto shock, avrebbe davvero voluto tenere il bambino se anche Derek lo avesse voluto. Ma non poteva accettare di forzarlo a sopportare una cosa simile, non quando la loro relazione non era neppure una cosa così seria per Derek probabilmente.Deaton si schiarì la gola attirando la sua attenzione di nuovo. “È un po' affrettato sorbirti tutta la responsabilità della situazione, in realtà. I bambini non si fanno da soli, ci deve essere sempre un apporto da due parti.”Stiles sbuffò. “Ho già detto che non… non c'è stato un vero e proprio rapporto tra me e Derek.” ripeté arrossendo ancora. Stavolta però Jackson non reagì. Deaton invece sospirò quasi annoiato. “Parlavo di uno scambio di energie. Volontario, non forzato. Derek deve aver voluto tanto quanto te che questo branco fosse più unito. E deve essersi sentito al sicuro con te perché funzionasse, come se fossi già parte non solo del suo branco, ma della sua famiglia, soprattutto considerata la tua mancanza del giusto apparato riproduttore.”Deaton gli porse una copia della foto che qualche istante prima anche Derek aveva fissato. “Per un Alpha in un territorio in condizioni ostili e con alle spalle il trauma della perdita di un branco, fare figli è più una questione di desiderio e della giusta chimica col partner, che del giusto set di organi e del bisogno di più potere. Aggiungiamo al mix un pizzico di magia in un partner che ricambia il sentimento...” Deaton lasciò la frase morire nel nulla, lasciando Stiles e il resto del branco a trarre le loro conclusioni.Lydia sospirò. “Sapevi che sarebbe successo, non è vero?”Deaton scrollò le spalle. “Era un'eventualità che avevo considerato, ma non mi aspettavo succedesse così presto, non prima che Stiles fosse diventato a tutti gli effetti l'emissario del branco perlomeno. Ora, credo che Stiles debba andare a parlare con Derek.” aggiunse solo prima di uscire dalla stanza.Per qualche istante rimasero tutti immobili in silenzio, poi Jackson gli poggiò una mano sul ginocchio, stupendo non solo Stiles ma anche il resto del branco. “Vuoi davvero…?” lasciò in sospeso la domanda, ma dal lieve suono che venne strozzato nella gola di Isaac e dagli sguardi un po' tristi sulle facce del resto del gruppo, seppe che era un quesito di cui tutti aspettavano la risposta.Stiles si massaggiò l'addome e poi riportò lo sguardo su Jackson. “Devo parlare con Derek.” rispose solo alzandosi e avviandosi oltre l'uscita di emergenza.Nell'oscurità dell'imbrunire, gli ci vollero alcuni istanti per notare la figura seduta sul marciapiedi un paio di metri sulla sinistra. Prese un respiro profondo e poi gli si avvicinò, prima di mettersi a sedere accanto a lui. Derek aveva le mani affondate nelle tasche della giacca in pelle, ma anche senza vederle Stiles sapeva che le stava tenendo strette a pugno. Aveva la schiena ricurva, quasi stesse cercando di rendersi più piccolo, ed era così rigido che Stiles temette gli si potesse strappare qualche muscolo per la tensione.Stiles osservò la foto che ancora teneva tra le proprie mani; Derek la fissò con la coda dell'occhio per un istante, poi distolse lo sguardo.“Va bene.” disse solo l'Alpha interrompendo il silenzio.“Cosa?” chiese confuso Stiles.“Lo capisco. Sei giovane, non sei pronto per questo genere di cose e in fondo non è colpa tua. È solo per colpa della magia, non lo vuoi davvero. Quindi va bene se vuoi...” la voce di Derek sembrava impassibile, ma la sua esitazione proprio sul finale rendeva piuttosto ovvio che fosse molto doloroso per lui dire una cosa simile.Stiles rimase in silenzio per un istante, poi afferrò il polso di Derek e lo costrinse ad estrarre la mano dalla tasca; la strinse tra le sue e si poggiò contro la sua spalla, il viso nascosto nel suo collo.“Non hai sentito quel che ha detto Deaton dopo che sei uscito, vero?” chiese quindi.Derek scosse la testa.“Volevo solo che fosse una scelta.” rispose Stiles. Derek parve irrigidirsi ancora di più e cercò di spostarsi. Stiles lo trattenne stringendosi di più a lui. “Quello che intendevo dire, è che non volevo fosse qualcosa che io ho forzato su di te, perché nella tua vita ne hai avute abbastanza di persone che ti hanno obbligato a gestire conseguenze per decisioni che ti sono state forzate. Pensavo solo che… Magari per te questa cosa non fosse così seria. Tra di noi, intendo. E un bambino! Beh, un bambino è un impegno serio. Non è un matrimonio a Las Vegas, per cui puoi avere un annullamento se ti penti. Ed è vero, sono giovane e un bambino non era una mia priorità in questo momento. Ma un bambino con te, una famiglia insieme. È qualcosa che...” Stiles si sentì arrossire. Strinse di più la mano di Derek che stava ancora tra le sue. “Ho fantasticato su come sarebbe stata, su come sarebbe stato se il branco fosse stato come la tua famiglia era in passato. Pensavo solo non fosse qualcosa che tu volessi con me e quando hai sospirato in quel modo...” ammise infine, la voce che gli si spezzava.Per un infinito istante calò il silenzio, poi Derek lo strinse in un abbraccio e gli diede un bacio sulla fronte. Rimase a lungo con le labbra poggiate sulla sua pelle e Stiles si rilassò nella presa, chiudendo gli occhi.“È una cosa molto seria, Stiles.” rispose in un sussurro Derek senza spostarsi.Stiles ridacchiò. “È diventato più o meno ovvio quando Deaton ha detto che dovevi volerlo tu e dovevo volerlo pure io perché accadesse.”Derek lo distanziò per un istante e lo fissò, gli occhi verdi che luccicavano di speranza. “Già, a quanto pare la mia scintilla è più o meno il motivo per cui sono fisicamente in dolce attesa, ma se questa cosa tra me e te non fosse stata seria e se non lo avessimo voluto parecchio, non sarebbe mai successa solo perché ho un pizzico di magia in me.”Rimasero a guardarsi negli occhi in silenzio per alcuni istanti, poi Derek sbuffò, chiuse gli occhi e poggiò la fronte contro quella di Stiles. “Siamo degli idioti?” chiese.Stiles ridacchiò e annuì, prima di baciarlo con dolcezza sulle labbra. Derek rispose con altrettanta dolcezza, le braccia che lo tenevano un po' più vicino, il viso che si inclinava leggermente per aver migliore accesso prima di cercare di approfondire il bacio. Stiles gli portò le braccia al collo e mugugnò soddisfatto, mordicchiandogli appena il labbro in un invito, che Derek accettò ben volentieri.Li interruppe comunque un colpo di tosse che proveniva dalla porta sul retro della clinica. “Se fosse per me potreste anche continuare,” disse Erica con un sogghigno malizioso sulle labbra, “ma Lydia insiste che non è una buona idea farvi arrestare per atti osceni in luogo pubblico prima che diciate allo Sceriffo che sta per diventare nonno, quindi...”Stiles impallidì. “Oddio, Derek, mio padre!” esclamò voltandosi verso l'Alpha, il quale era sbiancato a sua volta.Erica rise a loro spese e, anche senza l'udito fine di un mannaro, Stiles fu sicuro di sentire Jackson sganasciarsi da dentro la clinica. Stiles si chiese quanto avrebbe riso Jackson quando lo avrebbe costretto a cambiare pannolini al posto suo.
10346931	Une peine a surmonter	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Gotham (TV)", "Language": "Français", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Satanders", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-18T00:00:00", "words": "508", "Additional Tags": "Grief/Mourning, Grieving Edward Nygma, POV Oswald, Selfish Oswald, Episode: s03e09 The Executioner, Minor Character Death, Canonical Character Death", "Relationship": "Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma", "Character": "Oswald Cobblepot", "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 }	Oswald trouvait l'attitude d'Ed absolument déplaisante, mais il ne pouvait pas se permettre de le montrer. La fille était morte, il s'attendait évidemment à ce qu'Ed soit quelque peu attristé par la nouvelle. Mais après la joie de l'avoir enfin récupéré, il devait affronter les conséquences amères du deuil, et ça ne lui plaisait pas du tout. Si elle prenait encore plus de place morte que vive, à quoi cela avait-il servi de la faire assassiner ? Il essaya donc de son mieux de ramener Ed à la raison. Il le savait sensible au rationnel et il était certain qu'il finirait par se ranger à ses arguments. Le dialogue était difficile, car Oswald avait peu de patience en lui pour faire semblant de compatir à la détresse d'Edward – il avait beau essayer, les mots finissaient par sortir de travers de sa bouche. En vérité il était aussi inquiet qu'agacer. Gérer l'exaspération, c'était une chose – qu'il faisait très mal au demeurant – mais en plus du soucis qu'il se faisait, c'était quasiment impossible. Et Ed qui faisait mine de ne rien comprendre. Ou était passé le jeune homme brillant, vif d'esprit, dont il avait l'habitude et qui l'avait fait tombé amoureux ? Soudain il se redressa, et Oswald perdit son sourire encourageant, sa gorge se serrant. Même dans la peine, Edward était douloureusement beau. La chemise froissée, le col de travers, la cravate de biais, un bout de couverture sur l'épaule et des mèches folles sur le front...il était beau même dans cet état de désemparement, et c'était terrible, terrible de savoir qu'elle en était la cause. Les mots que lâcha Ed sur un ton neutre et dépourvu d'émotion pesèrent comme du plomb dans l'estomac du Pingouin. Elle était morte, morte. Pourquoi devait-elle encore s'interposer entre eux ? Il en était rendu fou de rage, et contenir cette colère n'était pas chose aisée. Il ne pouvait l'exprimer contre personne, et surtout pas contre Edward. Bien sûr, il aurait aimé le secouer, lui dire d'oublier, mais ça n'aurait fait que le braquer davantage. Il espérait vraiment que cette visite sur le lieu du drame aiderait Ed à tourner la page. Il n'avait aucune idée de ce qu'il pourrait faire sinon. Il voulait qu'Ed soit heureux. Il aimait le voir sourire, discuter avec lui, échanger. Même ses stupides énigmes commençaient à lui manquer. Il aurait tout donné pour que tout redevienne comme avant. Ce n'était quand même pas un petit meurtre de rien du tout qui allait compromettre leur amitié – et sa possible évolution vers quelque chose de plus romantique. On a le droit de rêver. Soudain, une idée lumineuse frappa Oswald, alors qu'il revenait dans le salon où il avait abandonné le peintre peignant son portrait. - Dites-moi, si j'y mets le prix, serait-il possible d'ajouter quelqu'un dans le tableau ?, demanda-t-il. L'artiste confirma et lui donna le prix. Oswald haussa les épaules comme si tous ces zéros ne signifiaient rien. - Je vais aller vous chercher une photo. Il ne faut pas qu'il le sache, ce sera une surprise. J'en ai besoin pour ce soir !
10344816	Grown Men	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Jang Dongwoo, Kim Sunggyu, Kim Myungsoo \| L, Nam Woohyun, Lee Howon \| Hoya, Lee Sungyeol, Lee Sungjong", "Fandom": "INFINITE (Band)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by msinpinitu (dureh)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-17T00:00:00", "words": "1,997", "Additional Tags": "Cuddling, Mama!Gyu, Scared!Dino, Infinite cares, Nightmares, Crying, Angst, Fluff, stubborn!Dino, ficfest, Idols", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Jang Dongwoo/Everyone, OT7 - Relationship", "Series": null, "Collections": "One Great Step #1 March 2017: First Invasion", "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 }	Dongwoo wakes in the night, covered in cold sweats and chilling tremors of a whispery shiver slithering down skin as he calmly waits for the fear to abate and his reality to set in. He takes shallow breaths and stares up at his ceiling because it’s the only companion he has now. It’s all he’s ever going to get.Finally regaining feeling in his limbs, Dongwoo climbs out of his bed and pads to the kitchen, feeling heavy with each step but praying for a lighter day. It’s just nightmares. They don’t mean anything. Now that he’s awake, they’re gone anyway. There’s no reason to fear. No need to worry.But as he sits in the kitchen with a glass of warm milk clapsed in his hands, Dongwoo wonders why he should breave his bed anymore. It’s almost morning anyway. He’d only just gone to sleep a couple of hours before he woke but he was pretty sure he could take the three hours ahead of him sitting down. Right there. On the kitchen island. *** A scream dies on his lips when his eyes open.It’s a new day with new worries.But it’s the same old demons that chase him. He’s since learned the trails they’ll always take and so he knows to run in the direction but. But now, his fears are waking with him. He’s jolting himself to consciousness with the freshness of a hard night’s chase on his mind and almost on his lips. He doesn’t want to admit it. But it’s starting to be a problem. * “I’m sleeping over tonight.” Howon informs him.“Why?” Dongwoo asks, choosing that moment to wipe nonexistent perspiration from his reddening neck. He knows why. He’s seen why. The members watch him warily and only fail to look away in time when he looks back. It’s been freeing and a process for growth for them all to move out of the dorms and get apartments.But for Dongwoo, it’s been hell.“I need to work on something with you.” Howon says.“Let’s stay late on it here.” Dongwoo says. “No need to follow me home.” * Woohyun comes to visit. He brings food and cloths and pretends that he needs to spend some time with Dongwoo for his own sake and not Dongwoo’s.But Dongwoo makes him finish his laundry quick and helps around with the food so Woohyun is done before it is too late.“I’m tire. I’m sleepy.”“I’ll call you a cab.”And that’s that. * Dongwoo cries now, when he wakes. It’s nothing serious. He just opens his eyes and there are tears there, leaking out the corner down the side of his face. He wipes them away and pretends that nothing’s going on. It’s no hard to wake with tears. It’s better than the screaming he’d done last week. But he wasn’t sure which was more humiliating. * He comes back from recording one day and there’s a ten foot cuddle bear in his sitting room. Attached to it is a letter from MyungJong. Dino-hyung needs to be cuddled… even if he doesn’t want to be. -M, J Dongwoo laughs and laughs and laughs and then suddenly, he’s crying and falling into the bear and crying some more. He can’t even control it. He lies between the bear’s legs and bawls his eyes out, letting the heavy arms enclose him in an inanimate embrace. But anything is better than nothing. So Dongwoo doesn’t question it. Doesn’t fight anymore.He just lays there and cries till sleep decides to come. * Dongwoo struggles. He really does. But he has made up his mind not to let that be his focus. He won’t let it affect the work.So he follows the members for shows and does his part and prays that when he goes home, he won’t hate his bed as much as he does. He’s almost sure that he succeeds when he spend a week with Cuddle Bear and he doesn’t wake up feeling like a needy failure. He tries his best to be positive before he sleeps and even though sometimes he slips up and wakes shouting or crying, Dongwoo believes it’s a change and its growth.And he’ll welcome that any day. * Sungyeol buys him beers now. Stocks his fridge full of Soju.Dongwoo has never been much of a drinker.But he acknowledges the sentiment and manages to take one bottle a week for Sungyeol’s effort. * A year to sleeping in his own house. Sharing his bed with no one. Leaving food in the fridge and coming back to find it there. Having his clutter grow without nagging from members. Leaving the report under the cushion where he liked it and coming back to find it there.One full year.And Dongwoo had finally mastered how to sleep on his own and survive the night in silence.He’d always loved to sleep anyway. That he was now doing it all alone was not something he was going to change. If he wanted to see his mom, he could always go visit. It had never really sunk in. not until he was living on his own. But Dongwoo was a grown man now.The members made fun of how he never woke for an alarm. But he had to these days. Or else it would be a disaster for him and his appointments. So every night, instead of just falling asleep, he’d take the time to set his home-wide, bell-blaring alarm to fit two hours before he had to leave the house. His manager usually reminded him once in a while. But Sunggyu was always adamant about setting the alarm. Almost as if he didn’t trust that Dongwoo would.So every night, he’d set his alarm. And then he’d wake in the morning, bright and early and ready to work. Luckily, this routine doesn’t include the cold sweats anymore… or the crying… or the falling off the bed. He knows that he sleeps through the night and never wakes to pee. It’s his way and he’s grown into it over the years.But just as he’s about to sleep, he suddenly remembers that he needs to wake up a couple of hours before his normal couple of hours for Infinite events. It’s a personal thing and he doesn’t want it to eat into his work time. He goes to the panel by his bed where the alarm is controlled and resets it for an earlier time. When Sunggyu had installed the alarm, he’d made sure the alarm was in the room but that Dongwoo would have to get up to go and turn it off.He sleeps off not long after he’s closed the panel.But just like that, the night is over.The alarm is blaring in the house and Dongwoo moves to turn when he feels a body plastered to his.“Fuck!” Sunggyu cusses as he rolls away from Dongwoo and Dongwoo finds himself missing the warmth even though he’d never known it was there.Dongwoo takes a moment to blink himself awake and realize that there’s a noisy alarm seeking his attention. He gets up, rushes to the panel and flicks it off. By the time he turns back, Sunggyu is sitting up on the bed with his legs folded up and encased in his hands that are clasped around his knees.“You set your alarm early.” Sunggyu says, looking guilty.“I have a thing.” Dongwoo says, not sure what’s going on. “Hyung, why are you here?”“I was sleeping.” Sunggyu says, pouting at Dongwoo. “You should have told me you had something in the morning.”“Why?”“Then I would have known you’d be waking earlier and I’d have gone by then.”Dongwoo tilts his head in thought as his eyes widen.“Hyung, have you been sleeping here?” Dongwoo asks. Sunggyu doesn’t need to answer because Dongwoo already knows the answer is yes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”“Because,” Sunggyu says, climbing off the bed as he begins pulling on his jeans. “You’d have said no and pretended like nothing was wrong with you.”“Nothing is wrong with me.”“You’ve been having nightmares, Woo.”“I haven’t had them for almost four months.”“And why do you think that is?” Sunggyu asks, pausing in his dressing as he looks back at Dongwoo and everything just suddenly clicks.The alarm. The lack of nightmares. The compulsory reminders that Dongwoo set his alarm. Sunggyu’s been sleeping over for the past four months and leaving before his alarm rang. Treating him like he was an invalid baby. Anger wells up in Dongwoo as he faces the leader.“I didn’t ask you to look after me.”“It’s my job.”“Your job stops when we clock out.”“Infinite never clocks out. You’re Infinite in the morning and you’re Infinite at night.”“So you’ll treat me like a baby?”“I’ll treat all of you like babies.” Sunggyu says.“I don’t see you spending the night in Soo’s house.”“That’s because I spend the first two weeks at his house. And then I had to stay at Yeolie’s until he went for his shooting. Jong is leaving with his parents but Woohyun and Howon? They crash at my place all the time. The only difference between all of them and you is that they haven’t been stubborn about all of this.”“Hyung-”“Do you think you’re the only one with issues? We’ve spent years living together… depending on each other. It’s not supposed to be easy to just suddenly leave each other and move out. We still need each other. Even if it’s not in the same way. We’re still Infinite.”Dongwoo thinks about it and Sunggyu sounds about right. He spent the first few months going through withdrawal and now that he’d been getting dosing of his members in the form of Sunggyu, he was finally sleeping right.“I’m sorry that I’ve been doing it without your consent but Woo, you were being unreasonable. Every one of us has been trying to help and you wouldn’t let us.”Dongwoo doesn’t say anything. He’s not sure he’s got anything to say.So Sunggyu pulls on his shirt and picks up his wallet and his keys as he begins to head out of the room.“Stay.” Dongwoo says, reaching for the back of Sunggyu’s shirt as Sunggyu walks passed him. “Sleep.” He says. Sunggyu looks back at him, surprised but happy as he purses his lips.“You’re not mad at me.”“You’re my leader.”“You didn’t answer my question.” Sunggyu prods.“You’re my leader.” Dongwoo replies. “If you think this is what I need, then this is what I’m going to get.”He laughs and Sunggyu laughs with him. *** Minutes later, Dongwoo has Sunggyu back in his bed, shirtless and without his pants as Dongwoo attempts to get comfortable as the small spoon with his hyung holding him from behind.“I thought you had a thing to get to.” Sunggyu says.“Things come and go.” Dongwoo replies, closing his eyes as he finds that it’s more than comfortable in Sunggyu’s hands. It’s warm. And it’s lovely. And Dongwoo doesn’t feel so apprehensive.“Want me to send Soo next week?” Sunggyu asks, pulling him even closer.“Okay.” Dongwoo says. “If he’s free.”“He’ll make time.” Sunggyu says. “He wanted to come once but I figured he’d oversleep and get caught.”Dongwoo laughs.“You should have let him come.”“You’d have gotten mad. And he’d have cried. And Infinite would have broken up.”Dongwoo pinches Sunggyu’s hand as he listens to Sunggyu’s groan of pain.“I could never get mad at Soo.”“I know. Now sleep. We have to be up in an hour.”“Okay hyung.” But then he remembers something. “We’re grown men, hyung.”“Huh?” Sunggyu says, sounding like he’s already drifting back to sleep.“We’re not babies anymore.” Dongwoo says. “We’re all growing up and changing.”He snorts out sleepily.“You’re all my babies.” Sunggyu says. “Grown men or not.”
10333646	Whoops	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Dan Avidan, Arin Hanson", "Fandom": "Game Grumps", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by skyhillian", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-17T00:00:00", "words": "1,551", "Additional Tags": "Sexuality Stuff", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Dan Avidan/Arin Hanson, Suzy Berhow/Arin Hanson (mentioned)", "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 }	Arin wonders how they’ve gotten into the topic of sexuality again. Dan has been asking a lot of questions lately, and even though he himself isn’t all too knowledgeable on a lot of it, he’s been trying to help Dan learn stuff that he’s curious about.“She said that from what I put out there online, she thought I was pansexual.” Dan shifts his position on the couch, unfolding one of his legs from underneath his body and wrapping his arms around it. His chin rests on his knee. “I just said ‘okay, cool’ because I didn’t want to admit that I had no fucking idea what that meant.” Arin looks over at Dan. He’s chewing on his bottom lip and Arin wants to tug it from between his teeth before he damages the skin. “What does it mean?”“Okay, so you know how when you’re bisexual you’re just into two genders?” Arin asks.“Yeah.”“Well—”“Wait, with bisexuality can you be into any two genders or does it have to be dudes and girls?”This gives Arin pause. “I think that one of them has to be your gender? And the other one can be whatever. I think. Don’t quote me on that.”“Oh I’m gonna quote you hard on that,” Dan teases and Arin shoves him lightly. “Okay, okay, sorry. Go on with your sexplanation.”Arin groans loudly, exasperated. “Daniel, please.” The older man giggles and Arin rolls his eyes. “So pansexuality,” he begins loudly, “is when you are into everybody. Like, you don’t care what gender they are.”“Oh. So it’s like a wider form of bisexuality?” Dan questions and again, Arin is proud that Dan wants to learn about this stuff.“Yeah, I guess. It encompasses nonbinary and agender, I think it is?” Arin goes quiet for a moment while he tries to make the jump to the next platform, swearing loudly when he misses and his character dies. “Assballs!”Dan starts laughing again and he leans against Arin. He’s warm and he smells like the woods and the pleasant musk of his aftershave.“Wait,” Dan says when his giggles die down, “you didn’t mention transgender when you explained pansexuality.” He’s still leaning against Arin and he’s uncurled himself a bit, stretching his long, grasshopper-like legs towards the other end of the couch. It’s a sign that he’s not planning on moving away from Arin any time soon.“Well, trans dudes are dudes and trans chicks are chicks so I guess I just put 'em with boys and girls cause that’s what they are,” Arin explains.“That makes sense.”“Like in my case, I’m into everybody. If I wanna kiss you I wanna kiss you.”Suddenly the warmth by his side is gone and when he looks over, Dan is staring at him with wide eyes and his mouth is hanging open.Shit. Shit fuck assballs.Dan fumbles until he hits the pause button on the capture and he scribbles an illegible number on the time slot, and he turns back to look at Arin, who looks just as surprised as he himself feels.“Did… Are you serious?”Arin sets down the controller and puts his head in his hands. “Whoops.”“Whoops? What the hell does that mean?” Dan’s not sure why his voice sounds so panicked and before he speaks again he makes an effort to level it out. “Did you just come out on Game Grumps?”“Whoops,” Arin repeats. His brain has short circuited and has started going in loops, repeating every curse he can think of. What the fuck did he just do? It’s not like he’s been subtle about it, but he’s always played it off as a joke. Ha ha he wants to fuck dudes and suck dick ha ha.The warmth of Dan’s hand on his arm shocks him out of his thoughts, and when he looks up, Dan is looking at him with concern.“Hey,” he begins, “we can take a break. The episode can be scrapped.”Does he want it scrapped? His mouth opens and closes for a few moments. He’s not ashamed. He’s just not sure he wants to deal with suddenly being thrust into the role of a 'queer icon’ or whatever the fuck he had basically been dubbed when someone had tried to make him come out as bisexual. When he was younger he identified as bi, but he felt that that label didn’t fit him anymore.“Arin?” Dan lightly squeezes his friend’s arm to regain his attention. “It’s okay if you don’t want that to be public knowledge yet, or even ever.”“Let’s… let’s do the outro and I’ll think about it.” Dan nods, but he’s still concerned. His own mind is going a mile a minute. He can’t stop wondering whether those 'jokes’ had ever been jokes at all.—They’re sitting in Dan’s car in the parking lot of In and Out Burger. Arin is almost done with his burger and Dan is picking at his fries. He’s got the driver’s seat pushed as far back as it goes and he’s turned to face Arin.The silence is oppressive and Dan hates it. Arin is the one person other than his grandma that he can always feel comfortable with. “Do you want to talk about it?”Arin sighs and puts down his burger. “I don’t know what there is to talk about. I’m pansexual or fluid or whatever.”Dan is silent for a long moment while he debates on whether or not to ask the question that’s floating around in his head. It’ll make him sound like an asshole and that’s the last thing he wants. He’s not entirely sure he’s even allowed to be upset, but he is.Dan picks at one of the holes in his jeans, and Arin nudges him. “What?”“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dan asks quietly while refusing to meet Arin’s eyes.“I didn’t think it was important.” Dan frowns and looks up at his friend. Tentatively, he reaches out and takes Arin’s hand.“It’s something about you and it’s part of who you are. Of course it’s important, Arin.” Arin can feel the heat rush to his cheeks. Dan rubs his thumb absentmindedly over the soft skin of Arin’s hand. “You’re important,” he adds, so quiet that Arin almost misses it.“Danny,” he begins, but Dan cuts him off.“Were—were all those times you… joked about us… together… we’re they actually jokes?” Arin has never seen Dan this flustered before, but he still hasn’t let go of his hand, instead opting to fiddle with Arin’s 'thinking ring’, spinning it back and forth between his long fingers.“I mean, yeah… Unless, uh, you’d be down with it if I wasn’t.” Dan’s head jerks up so fast that he thinks he might’ve pulled something. They stare at each other, unblinking, until Dan speaks.“I… might be? I’ve been… curious, I guess?” Arin can’t believe what he’s hearing. Dan is still holding his hand and spinning the ring.“Curious?” Arin asks the question carefully, like he’s afraid he’ll startle Dan into changing his mind.This situation is so fucking surreal. Sitting in Dan’s Nissan at one in the morning in the deserted parking lot of In N Out Burger, hearing words he had only ever fantasized he would get to hear. They feel strangely isolated, like they’re in their own little corner of the world. The tension is thick, and Arin can taste it on his tongue. Something in their dynamic has suddenly shifted and he can’t tell whether it’s a good thing or not yet.“Yeah. I mean, you know me, right? Straight as an arrow.” He giggles nervously. “But I’m… I’m starting to wonder what it would be like to kiss you?” Arin feels just as goddamned confused as Dan sounds. “It should be freaking the EVER living fuck out of me but it’s not, and that in and of itself is freaking me out.” Danny pauses for breath and takes a second to gauge Arin’s reaction. His honeyed eyes are wide but he doesn’t look upset–only surprised, and something Dan can’t really identify. He barrels on with what he was saying. “I mean, I know you’re married and everything and fuck, being a home wrecker is the last thing I want cause I love you and Suzy so much, and–”“Dan,” Arin interjects, “shut up.”Before he can process it, Arin has closed the gap between them and they’re kissing. His mustache tickles Dan’s nose a little, but the feeling of facial hair scratching at his skin doesn’t make him panic like he thought it would. His free hand, the one not clutching Arin’s like a lifeline, cups Arin’s face. Their lips move together sweetly and Dan really doesn’t want to pull away, but the nagging in the back of his head finally wins out.“Suzy-” he chokes out, and Arin kisses him again, just a quick press of lips this time.“It’s okay,” he assures him. “We, uh, we’ve talked about it before.”“W-what?” Danny splutters.“She okayed it… us. I told her it would never fucking happen, but I guess I was wrong.” He smiles, and Dan can’t help but smile too.“I’m glad you were wrong,” Dan says, and kisses Arin again
10386351	This Light of Mine It	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Anxiety - Character, Prince, Thomas Sanders - Character, Logic - Character, Morality (Dad), Charlie oc", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by Bearly_Beloved", "chapters": "11/11", "completed": "2017-07-27", "published": "2017-03-20T00:00:00", "words": "13,690", "Additional Tags": "I wanted some angst, But then i got a lil sidetracked, I wanna make it happy, Eventually; ), ... - Freeform, Panic Attack, Update: its gonna get sad again, Witch(es?), Evil jerk gnome, fairytales - Freeform", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Prinxiety, AnxietyxPrince", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "prinxiety - Fandom, Thomas Sanders", "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 all too easy to forget. That was one of the things he worried about most often. Forgetting something important. Being forgotten. Being purposefully ignored for being worthless. A nuisance. A bother that everyone would rather see gone. It was all too easy for Anxiety to remember that he wasn’t wanted. All too easy to follow this dark train of thoughts. He didn’t blame the other mindsets for being wary of him, not really. He didn’t really enjoy his own company either. Shadows crawl over him as he walks down the endless corridor of Thomas’s mind. Everything was even darker than it would’ve been even without Anxiety’s presence. Which meant that he was sleeping. Dreaming peacefully without his presence so imminent. ‘Did he set his alarm’ Anxiety falters, he remembers seeing the electronic screen through his mind's eye, and yet… Taking a deep breath, he hurries down the corridor trying to ignore the thought. As if running could make it disappear ’You know he has to meet Valerie for breakfast ’ ‘Her friendship is important to him, if you don’t wake him up, she’ll be upset at him and it will have been your fault.’ He's running now. He can afford to wait. Anxiety knows that’s exactly what Logic,Dad, and Prince would say. Prince. Louder than any of the others, he would disapprove of his meddling. That Thomas needed his beauty sleep. Wake him up, and he's a worrywort. Don't wake him up, and he's lazy and not doing his job right if something goes wrong. ‘WAKE HIM UP’ Sprinting down the hall, he crashes into the nearest room, uncaring of who it belongs to, only knowing that he can’t be the way he is, shouldn't be so worked up and stressed about this of all things, but he is, and he has to wake up Thomas- “Anxiety,” a calm voice soothes from a few steps away, cutting through his repetitive thoughts. When did he fall to his knees? Eyes downcast, his breathing comes in short gasps. He begins to tremble, to shake. He wants to get away, to run. Oh how he wants to run again, but now he can't move. Can't . ‘Now you have woken somebody up, but this time there wasn't even a small chance of you being helpful for once and-’ “Anxiety! Look at me please!” the voice pleads worriedly. Strong hands steadily grip his shoulder. “Follow my lead, okay Anxiety?” All the voice gets in reply is a slight jerk of the head. “Can't even manage a simple nod can you?” “Anxiety, follow my breathing.” Together, they slowly breath in, then out in segments of four seconds. “Tell me five things you can see.” Eyes darting around, he notices that they're in an open forest. “Trees. Stars. Grass. Rocks,” his eyes lock onto the man in front of him. Prince. “You.” Together, they slowly breathe in, then out again. “Tell me four things you can touch.” Hands, at first hanging limp by his side, quiver into action. “Dirt. Hoodie,” they slide up to roughly run over his head, “Hair,” having passed the hands that were still gripping his shoulders, he grabs onto them, as if he were going to bolt. “You.” In. Then out. In. Then out. “Tell me three things you can hear.” he urges calmly. Focusing on the here and now, Anxiety allows his eyes to drift shut so he can listen. “The trees shifting.” The vice that had wrapped itself around his chest was loosening. “Birds singing.” A pause. “Our breathing.” In. Out. “Tell me two things you can smell.” Inhaling purposefully, Anxiety stills. “The pine of the trees, and,” he scrunches up his nose in contemplation, “Roses?” He glances to Prince in question. “It is a perfume I enjoy the smell of immensely,” he concedes with a soft smile. He nods in understanding. “Can you tell me one thing you can taste?” They both still for a moment. Rising off the ground, Anxiety let's go of Prince’s wrists, and spins in a slow deliberate circle. Taking Prince’s hand, he leads him through the forest that was his room, in silence. Soon enough they reach a bush with small patches of berries. Taking two in hand, he places one in his mouth, and then silently offers the other. “These berries.” Prince graciously accepts, and gently tugs him toward a clearing not too far away,with a bed in the middle. They both perch on the edge, hands still linked. “What were you thinking about?” He inspects the ground, noting that there were no stones, or flowers littering the grass. It was pristine. He sighs, “Do you remember Thomas setting his alarm?” Prince quirks his head, “I do believe so?” He frowns, inspecting the slowly lightening sky, “Would you like to go check?” He makes an affirmative noise. “Well then let's go.” Rising up into The Other, they both spot Thomas lying peacefully in bed. Biting his lip, Anxiety looks to Prince, to see that he looks, surprised? Steeling himself, he adopts a cool demeanor and steadily shakes him awake. Muzzily blinking open his eyes, he stares up at him, waiting. “Did you set your alarm for Valerie?” Taking a moment to process the question, he nods with a small smile. “You should double check just in case.” Reaching under his pillow, Thomas taps at the screen until he pauses staring wide-eyed at the screen. Turning it to face the other two they could see that,yes, the alarm was set; but not in the AM. Sighing in relief, Thomas makes the necessary adjustments, before settling down again. ‘’Thanks Anxiety, this was the best way to start the day,’’ he says with a bright,albeit tired smile. “Don't want you losing a valuable friendship over something dumb that could be prevented…”he trails off. He shrugs, noticeably more relieved than he was five minutes ago, before fading back into the mind. Thomas turns to Prince then with a knowing smirk, “Any reason you decided to accompany Anxiety this early in the morning?” At a loss for what to say in return, he merely sinks after Anxiety, with a small wave. Opening his eyes, the first thing he sees is Anxiety. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Was he waiting for him? It was the only logical solution. He had come with him this far, no point in separating now without a proper goodbye. Remembering why they were together in the first place made him take pause. He took the time to observe Anxiety leaning against the corridor wall. Arms crossed, head hung low so that his face was hidden further in the shadows. Now he felt that he was less inclined to part so soon. Silently, he strides to Anxiety’s side, “Will you walk with me?” He gets a tired smile and small shrug. “Anywhere you wanted to go?” “Not particularly, I just wish to be beside you.” He gestures down the corridor, and the two set off in companionable silence. Peaking at Anxiety once in awhile, Prince itches to ask all that was on his mind. He doesn't. Anxiety’s voice breaks the silence. “You got something on your mind Princey?” He quirks a brow, “Do you?” “Eye for an eye, and all that,” he takes a look up at him, “Spill.” “You came to me earlier, why?” He looks apologetic at that, “I didn't know where I was going or that I would end up in your room, sorry for bothering you.” “Apology accepted, though it was not called for. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He sinks a little farther down, hands stuffing themselves into his hoodie pocket , “I woke you up.” He says it like an ugly truth. A statement and fact that couldn't be corrected. Prince settles his hand on his shoulder and steers them both to the lounge, “I was already awake, something that was not your doing, but my own.” he reassures. “Couldn't sleep?” He shrugs, “I'm an early riser, and I suppose sleeping with the bluebirds doesn't really help. As much as I love them, God bless each and every one of their tiny souls, I can't handle trying to sleep when they twitter in the trees,” he gives a wistful sigh, “It gives me a chance to weed out evil witches and dragons earlier in the day at least. And now it is my turn.” Catching on, Anxiety doesn't reply. They sit down facing each other on the two seater couch, and the atmosphere changes to something quieter than the earlier companionable feel. Something more intimate. “What drove you to feel so… worried over the set alarm clock?” Anxiety leans against the couch, “I was just-” he sighs, “I was just worried about what you guys would’ve said if I was wrong. I already know that i’m a pretty useless and terrible aspect of Thomas’s personality, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to hear it. I was just fighting against myself about what I should’ve done and could've done and, well, you saw how that turned out.” “Anx-” “My turn Roman.” He closes his mouth and waits. “Earlier, you were looking at me and you looked… surprised. Why?” He thinks back to when he had paused for a moment, and looked to him for guidance; however little he had been able to give in those few seconds. Undeniably, he had been caught off guard. “I suppose I am very used to you being nonchalant when you input all the could be’s and what if’s, that I set myself up to be more than a little surprised when I saw this other side of you that I don't often see.” He shrugs, “It's how I deal with feelings.” He frowns earnestly“Do you really think so lowly of yourself? Why have you never said anything before?” Anxiety brings his knees to his chest, hugging them close, “That's two questions Princey; try again?” He huffs at his easy manner, knowing now what it hid; but plays along, “Why have you never said anything before?” “Figured you guys would’ve been able to pick up on your own that I'm Anxiety,” he emphasizes with a small wave of his hand. “Yes there can be times when I'm not me , and I actually enjoy things,” he concedes. “But those times are pretty few and far between, as you've seen, or,” he thinks, “or not seen. Besides, the only reason I'm being an open book at all right now is because I'm running off of three days of no sleep and counting and my brain to mouth filter is on vacation and I'm pretty sure that once I'll be able to inspect this conversation more closely, I'll regret everything and I'm just gonna stop talking now.” he shuts his mouth abruptly. Roman blinks, processing everything that he'd just heard, “Well then… I think the best course of action for you now would be to get some sleep, and if you later find that I've crossed the line in this conversation; I hope that you can believe me when I say I'm sorry. Ah, would you allow me to walk you to your door?” Anxiety smirks at that, using his head to indicate the door that had materialized on the previously blank wall. “If you insist.” Laughing, Prince rises from the couch, pulling Anxiety up with him. Taking the few steps it took to get to his door, they stop and turn to each other. He notes Anxiety’s faint smile, and finds that the sight of it sends a rush of… something through him. Watching him open his door, he catches a glimpse of a simple room, albeit a little dark. He stops in the doorway. “Hey Princey? I do have another question.” “Yes?” “What happens when you don't slay the evil witches and dragons in Thomas’s mind?” he asks curiously. He smiles fondly at the memories that come up with this particular answer “Remember a five year old Thomas and his imagination. His childhood was a time for daydreams and whimsy and what seemed like nonsense to The Other, the things running through his mind were zany and wild, and then I came along to.. orchestrate the madness into something more refined and-” he coughs into his hand,briefly wondering if the other man can see his cheeks heating up, “-and to sum it up, they run around and “wreak havoc” around here.” “Or they did until you came along,”he replies with a wink, before shutting the door. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- He opens his eyes. Wait. When did he close them? The last thing Prince remembers was Anxiety closing the door and then- He spins, and looks in wonder and awe at the familiar forest around him. No, not the forrest of his room, but the forest of his childhood. Or rather Thomas’s childhood. The familiar dirt path winds onward, and the friendly trees rustle softly in the ever present breeze; it was always good in assisting the creation of a dramatic moment. He giggles to himself, spinning once, just taking it all in. It has been years since he'd been in this kind of daydream. Which, oh. Looking down, he can see that he's even wearing the brown tunic and tights of his old adventure days, true he never especially missed this outfit, much preferring his current white attire, the sight of it fills him with a sense of nostalgia. “Logic!” he calls out, “ Do you still remember how to communicate in these?” ‘It has been quite a long time since I've been caught up in one of your daydreams, but I do believe I'm communicating proficiently enough?’ he replies back, voice just at the back of Prince's mind. ‘Does this mean you actually missed slaying a witch?’ ‘It appears so’ he thinks back, beginning to hum a simple tune, wandering his way along the edges of the hilltop. ‘What kind of fairytale are you in this time?’ ‘Considering that my tie is torn, I'm wearing an apron, and there's soot in my hair… a lot of soot. It's safe to presume that I'm in Cinderella’s story.’ ‘It's been awhile since we've been caught up in one of these; would you like me to refresh your memory and then check in on Dad and Anxiety?’ He spots a tall hill, and jogs his way up the incline. ‘That would be helpful.’ ‘Just follow her storyline, or don't if you so choose, and stay in the general vicinity. Do Not Leave. Remember that alright? One of the reasons is so that I can pick you and the others up-’ he gasps. ‘Prince?’ “Do you think his daydreams have gotten a little more complex due to growing up?” he murmurs, staring at the sprawling valley of twisted forest and towns stretching far into the distance. ‘It's a possibility, this house is certainly larger, and much grimier than I remember. What do you see?’ He runs his fingers through his hair, “Ah, well I can see that it's going to take a little longer than it used to to come pick you guys up.” He hears him inhale sharply. ‘Prince! Are you the small lone figure at the peak of the tallest hill in the area? I think I can see you.' Turning about, Prince finally notices a dark house against the bright forest foliage. ‘Shadow house?’ ‘Shadow house.’ he thinks back in confirmation. ‘I'll talk to Dad and Anxiety, and then we'll talk about where to go from there,yeah?’ ‘Talk to you then.’ He cups his hands to his mouth, “Morality! Where are you?” He waits, studying how he could possibly get to Logic through the thick wood if he had to pick him up first. ‘I’m in Ariel’s shoes at the moment, or, rather her fins. Can't speak out loud, but I've got a fishtail and a fork and life's pretty great otherwise.’ He chuckles,‘Yeah, it has been awhile since we've been back in one of these, aye old-timer?’ ‘He was six when we last came along on an adventure like this, but I haven't forgotten the rules. Stay in one place to wait for you, do a lot of walking to find the witch once we have everybody, and “poof”, our adventure will have come to an end.’ He nods along, even though he can't be seen. ‘Pretty much. I've talked to Logic, he's in Cinderella’s story. I'm on top of a hill, his location has been pre established, and I presume you are near the water?’ ‘That is correct.’ ‘Alright, well then out of the two of you, it would be faster to pick up Logic, considering the only body of water is behind his house. ‘I don't see a house?’ ‘Well not right behind his house, just relative to where I'm standing. I'll speak to Anx, and then we can all head to the tall dark castle looming over everything.’ ‘Are you talking about the one with the ominous blue and green lighting, and dark clouds hanging oddly close to it with flying things soaring from the roof?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Well alrighty then, speak to Anxiety and give him the run-through of the ol’ rules, and then we can be on our way!’ He sits,staring up at the lightening sky once again. “Anxiety? Can you hear me? All you have to do is think at me. As if I was right next to you, just think of what you would say. Can you hear me?” he waits, idly looking around the treetops. Nothing. “Anxiety?” His call was the only thing to break the sudden silence of the forest. “Anxiety!?” The wind rustled through the trees again, and for the first time, Prince noted that there were no animals present. No Birds singing, no scampering of feet. Nothing. Had there been when he'd first arrived. He bites his lip, eyeing the route it would take to get to Logic. ‘Anxiety if you can hear me, I need you to follow these instructions. Stay where you are or close by, Thomas is daydreaming and we've been swept up in it. Morality, Logic, and I have been through this before in his youth, it's just been a while. I'm going to go pick up Logic and then Morality,and then we'll slay the witch. They're the cause of this particular bout of fantasy. Please,if you can, try to tell me where you are as soon as you can so that we can come get you. Remember, Don't Leave.’ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- ‘Anxiet- -stay- -dreaming- -swept in- -a while- -going- -Logic- -slay- -this- -fantasy- -tell- -you- -soon- -we- -get-’ Anxiety listened distantly to the tinny voice of Prince until he stopped. Stay? He could do that, he thinks vaguely as he turns slowly in the middle of the room he was in. Dark, but what else was new. He couldn't decipher the rest of whatever Prince was trying to tell him. Thinking hurt all of the sudden. He slumps against the wall, and oh- when did he get here? ‘They just want you out of the way.’ He nods in agreement as much as he can before blacking out. ~ Prince stumbles over another tree root. They were never this disorderly before. Where they? The trees tower over him, and walking through the thick of them was- unsettling. “Are there any animals out there?” He sighs, making it a few more steps before a voice replies. “There is, but probably not one you would welcome.” “Can I decide for myself?” he ask curiously. “Let's just keep walking there's a clearing up ahead that we'll both converge in. You can judge for yourself then.” The voice sounded weary. Deep and a bit gruff. Whatever they were, they were large. They continue in silence; now aware of their presence, Prince notices the odd rustling to his right filling in the seemingly never ending silence of the forest. Sure enough, he spots a clearing. They both step into the light. Or rather Prince steps fully into the light, the bear takes a few extra steps to be completely seen. He blinks, “Hello, my name is Roman, but all that I know call me Prince.” The bear, face stony at first, looks confused. “My names Charles? The people I knew called me Charlie?” “Is something the matter Charlie?” He asks gently. He hesitates, “You're not gonna try to kill me?” Prince startles, “Why on earth would I do that?” “Because I'm a pretty big bear that has the potential to kill you?” “My friend, many things, big or small have the potential to kill me. Bears, yes, lions, dragons, particularly dedicated ducks…,”he counts off of his fingers. “Besides,” he winks, “I think I could take you.” Charlie chuckles, “No doubt.” Cocking his head, he asks, “Any particular reason you were calling for the animals of the forest?” He looks around, “I'm just more accustomed to these woods being lively. I was never alone before, when I went on adventures previously.” He sighs. “Why were you following me?” His demeanor, previously relaxed, turns grave. “I need your help.” ~ He blinks the sleep from his eyes, “What?” Dark empty room. Big window. Stay. Right. Anxiety rubs his eyes, struggling to stand. There was one thing different from when he'd first opened his eyes. That difference was in the form of a large ornate bed in the center of the circular room. Creepy. Looking out the window, he squints his eyes against the harsh green and blue lights, emanating from cracks in the ground below. Far far below. He was in a tower? His eyes roam past the rocky ground and farther out to the forest- He reels backwards. Squinting more in disbelief, he recovers from- whatever that was. Looking out the window hurt. He sits on the edge of the bed, barely wrinkling the purple comforter. ‘What are you doing just sitting here?’ He glances uneasily at the only door. “I'm doing what Prince said to. I'm staying.” he says aloud. He sighs exasperated, “Talking to myself already.” ‘What about Thomas? With you just sitting useless in a room, you can't even try to protect him.’ “I'm doing what Prince said to. I'm. Staying.” He repeats with more emphasis. ‘If he gets hurt without you there, it'll be your fault.’ He shrugs tiredly, “Isn't it always.” ~ “What sort of help?” “You said that you believed you would have no trouble taking me down? How do you feel your chances fair against a giant snake?” He smooths his hair back, bringing his hand to rest against his chin in silent thought, “Do we have enough time to sit? I need you to tell me all you can.” He conjures a fallen log. “I was a prince up until the day a gnome decided I wasn't fit to live the life of one. For whatever reason that I can't explain, he decided I was more fit to be a bear. As far as being a bear for the first time went, I fared pretty well because I met a wonderful woman and her family. I'd like to think that we became friends, and maybe they did to because when winter set in they invited me to stay with them to share the warmth of their cottage. I was happy, and I even think the spell started wearing off because one day after nightfall I found myself a man again. And again. And again. Only ever after nightfall, but it was nice.” He shakes himself, looking up at the sky. “What happens next?”he asks quietly, knowing there is a turn for the worse. “I'm happy again, living with this woman and her younger sister and mother; my friend.” A pause. “The gnome returns finding that I am undeserving of this happiness that I have found as well. He turns her family to stone where they stand and puts her to sleep. I'm helpless to do anything but watch as he sets her on a slab of marble like a corpse, and then he-” he takes a deep breath, “he takes a bottle out of nowhere and sets it on a separate slab, and says that this will cure her. The second he leaves, it rises up off the ground, higher than the treetops. And you want to know the worst part? There are hand holds. If I were not a bear I could climb it, cure her and her family and it would be just as it had been. When night falls, a giant snake appears.” He hangs his head, “I am not strong enough to take it alone; she's begun to turn to stone as well, and I've resorted to ask anyone with hands to climb up and get it. But,” he gestures with his paw, “large bear. Regardless of if I can talk, they are always too afraid of me.” He rests his hand on his back, “I am not afraid my friend, we will rescue your new found family. Together. Do you think when we have finished, could you help me in finding my way through this forest?” He asks sheepishly. “Of course, you ah, may have been walking in circles.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Soot. Everywhere. ‘I don't care how much housework they create for the poor girl to clean. No one can make a mess like this.’ Logic huffs, trying (and failing) to clean his glasses again. He looks around the entrance of the house. So much soot. He opens the door and a bird flutters in, settling on his shoulder. “Alright. I am not gonna question you...at least I'm not alone.” He stares quietly at the bluebird. It looks back. “Let's get cleaning.” He sneezes. For the next couple of hours, he cleans. Opening every window he can find, more and more animals join him until they too are covered in soot, but cleaning. Every dish lying unattended gets put in the kitchen by the rabbits, every article of clothing discarded is put in a pile next to the door by the birds. The floors get mopped by the fawn, the furniture shined by the deer, the cobwebs get swept away by the foxes. And still. After all this time. It's just Logic and the animals. Night begins to fall. They all gather at the foot of the stairs. Logic stares at the landing on the top, “Everything is clean,” he mumbles, “Thank you for all your help,” he says, addressing the animals around him, “I know that I'd be cleaning well into the night if you all had not been here for me.” He stops, unsure. “What now?” As if on cue, about half the animals guide him, some pushing, others pulling, up the stairs and into a room he hadn't actually payed much attention to while cleaning. Seven beds. ~ Morality swam a slow lap around the lake for the hundredth time, staring up at the sky as its colors began to change. Again, he contemplated swimming below the surface of the water and through the wide cavern gaping at the bottom of the lake. He decided against it again. It was rather lonely, being alone. Sitting against a rock, he gazed sadly at his tail. It was nice, a light shimmering teal, but he'd much rather have someone to spend time with than have a mermaids tail. He slips back into the water. ~ Prince peeks around a tree, finally seeing the Maiden on the marble slab. “I'm sorry that the one you love is in such a state.” he says in a hushed tone. Charlie stutters, and shakes his head frantically, “L-love that's- no. I really care for them, but I can't- shouldn't…” he trails off. Prince merely raises an eyebrow. “I'm a bear. There really shouldn't be more that needs to be said.” he sighs. “Perhaps if the spell were broken?” Prince suggests, “You said before that it was already fading before-” “Before the blasted being came back and targeted my new-found family. He's just going to keep coming back.” He looks to the sky. “Have you a sword? Or any other type of weapon against the beast?” “Sword. There's time still, I could just climb up and get it.” The sky darkens unnaturally, before lightening again. He looks up to see Charlie's grim human expression. “He's been coming earlier and earlier. In a cruel twist, my “transformations” have synced with his arrival.” A low hiss fills the silence of the clearing. In the time it took Prince to blink, a snake appeared, curled around the base of the podium and the slab. Sleeping. A great green beast with shining scales the size of a train. “Anything I should know about the beast before we try to engage it?” “It's tail is barbed. Treat it like a separate opponent. It will come from behind, do not forget about it.” “Weaponized tail, got it.”he says with a nod. “It's maw is large and it is aware of this. It will lunge without warning.” “Okay.” “It spits acidic venom in streams. Don't let it touch you.” “Acidic-?” He sighs, “Of course it does.” He stares at the snake once again. “Okay, divide and concur, one of us will distract the head, while the other cuts off the tail. It will be injured and down a weapon of attack. Then we can work together to either cut off its head or stab it's heart, between the scales.” Charlie nods in agreement, “I'll go for the tail now while it's still asleep?” He conjures a sword, watching as Charlie reaches into a bush and procures one for himself. “Godspeed.” “Godspeed.” he hesitates, “Prince, do you love?” He smiles gently, “I- I do. When we get her back, tell her how you feel?” “When we get her back.” He confirmed shakily. Silently, the two step out of the underbrush. Separating, Prince stalks toward the still head. He passes the girl, seeing the stone slowly creep up her still form. It hasn't reached her head yet. ‘It won't get a chance to.’ he thinks calmly. He reaches the head and stares at it head on. Quietly watching as it shifts, breathing in and out. In his peripheral, he sees the flash of a raised sword on the left of the snake. It opens it's eyes. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Anxiety opens his eyes irratibly. “I'm not even tired anymore.” He says exasperated. So why did he keep falling asleep? He examines the room again. Nothing new aside from the glowing green spinning wheel beside the window. ‘That's not creepy.’ he thinks sarcastically. ~ Screaming, the monster rears in pain, thrashing it's body about. Without waiting further, Prince stabs between the scale plates before slashing at them to test their strength. His blade bounces off, telling him what he already knew. Cutting off the head would not be their first go-to option in winning this battle. A bit of blood leaks to the ground. It's hard to hurt, but not impossible. He leaps back, barely missing the fanged lunge of the creature as it attacks the ground he was on moments before. Swinging for the eyes, he rolls out of the way as it rises up once more, and they lock onto his position again. Something wet splashes his leg and he tears the bottom portion of his pants without a second thought. Acid indeed. Charlie races to his back in seconds, and everything falls still for a moment as the beast quickly assess its next move. It was intelligent enough to think of ways to kill them. “Watch out for the tails.” He gasps out, eyes scanning wildly over the snake's body. “The-?” The creature sinks lower to the ground watching them, raising its tails above its head in a show of force. It was highly arrogant. As well as possessing the ability to regenerate its tail with an additional one like a hydra. Great. “Stab wildly between the plates while dodging everything?” Charlie suggests. “Sounds good. Get close to the podium and climb. I'll keep the head distracted.” Without any further warning, Prince dashes straight towards it, hoping Charlie wouldn't be noticed making his way around it. Hacking and slashing, this way and that, he dodges the tail and attacks the mouth when it comes to close, managing to cut out one of its large fangs I'm the process. It eyes him warily, preparing for another strike. He raises his sword and freezes. ‘-out- -my head!- -useless- -I know that- -I'm staying!- -hurt?- -Roman?- -witch- -sleep now- Pain explodes in his side, and he watches as the snake pulls back its tail;he slashes at it, only to have it bounce off again. Breathing heavily, he makes a snap decision and stops, walking towards it in a daze, he let's his sword fall away from his grip and onto the ground. “Prince?” He ignores his call, walking closer. The snake eyes him hungrily, flicking it's tongue, and swaying side to side, letting him come. “Roman! What are you doing?!” He was on top of the podium by now, unable to do anything but watch as he walked closer to the beast. Again, the snake raised both of its tails, bringing them down with lightning speed as soon as he was within feet of it. Just as fast, he grips both, one in each hand, driving them past the hard plates, and through the flesh beneath. In a stroke of luck, there was the heart. If it was thrashing before it was moving now. Uprooting trees, shaking the forest floor, roars filling the silent sky. Suddenly, it falls, crashing to the ground, and lays still. And then it was gone as if it had never been there, only leaving bloodstains and a tooth behind. He scoops up the fang and sword, and shakily makes his way to Charlie just as he pours the potion past her still lips. Taking a breath, he eyes the ever darkening sky. “I never did ask, what is her name?” He doesn't look up, scarcely seeming to breath, “Abigail. Her name is Abigail.” Prince looks down as well, waiting, like Charlie for the “cure” to work it's magic. A moment passes. Prince takes a silent step back. She coughs, sitting up and gasping for a breath. The ashy gray color of her cheeks fading away to a rosy hue. The stone crumbling away to dust. Her green eyes open, landing on Charlie. “What-?” He smiles encouragingly, “We have a cure for your family, and…” Trailing off, his smile melts. He takes a deep breath, “It's because of me that the gnome attacked your family, he saw how happy I was with all of you and decided to do this to me again. I will leave and he won't target you anymore, I'll make sure of that. I have to tell you before I go that -,” he sighs shakily, “I love you,” he finally breathes out. She blinks, face splitting into a grin. She laughs freely, bringing their faces together until their foreheads are touching. Locking eyes she smiles, expression giddy. “You love me?” He smiles for a moment, her mood infectious, “How could I not?” He brushes a strand of hair away from where it had fallen into her face. “If it's the dwarf you're worried about,please don't be. My family was unprepared, but we have some spells to protect ourselves and keep him in check next time he shows up. If he ever does. Charlie I love you. If you love me, stay? Please?” Prince nervously coughs into his hand, “You're a witch?” The two break apart, both blushing furiously. “White witch Prince, I'm not the reason you're here.” He nods, accepting this. “Can we escort her home and be off, I have a … bad feeling.” Charlie jumps up, “Could that be because of your stab wound!? Abigail can we patch him up?” He gestures wildly at the patch of skin that the acid had landed on when he finally notices it as well. Prince cuts him off, “They’re both only flesh wounds, I'll live. I… I'm worried about what I'll find at the end of my journey. I heard Anxiety’s voice, during the battle. We're all linked when we end up here, at least all of them to me,” he explains hurriedly, “He sounded angry then resigned, confused, then scared. I need to see that he's okay, soon...please.” “Take him Charlie, okay? I can find my way home from this neck of the woods.” She winces, catching a glimpse of his hands, “Do you not want to get ointment and bandages?” “I need to slay the witch.” he says with determination. Rising, Charlie kisses Abigails head in farewell, “Let's go then.” ~ ‘Aren't you afraid? Of what could happen to the others? To Thomas? While you're just up here?’ “Get out of my head!” he shouts, pulling at his hair, wishing the worried thoughts would just stop. Wishing that these worried thoughts would just stop. They were different. ‘You are sitting here useless.’ He sinks slowly down beside the bed, “I know that already. I know.” ‘Aren't you afraid of any of the others getting hurt? Who will look out for them the way you do?’ “Roman? He's capable; a dreamer,” he smiles for a second, “But capable.” The voice in his head takes on a disdainful tone. And is no longer in his head. “Your darling Prince is always off slaying witches and dragons, what will he do when fear isn't there?” He struggles to stand, “I am not fear.” His voice cracks. “I am Anxiety,” he says, more firmly. “Be gone witch.” He says, trying to sound like how he believed Prince would sound. He thought that that was who was to blame for now. A tense silence follows his statement. A swirling mass of icy darkness takes shape in front of him. It grew larger as it drew closer, blue eyes locked onto him alone, crooked fingers reaching out to grab him. He ran. Dashing through the door, he thanks whoever could be listening that it wasn't locked. ‘Idiot, you never did check.’ He's a couple steps down before he freezes in place. Eyes glassy, he turns around. Step. By step. By step. By step. Until he's in the room again. He does not see the room. He does not see the witch. His eyes are locked on the spinning wheel. It only takes one touch for him to crumple to the ground. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “You summoned a sword, can you summon a horse? It's only a ten minutes ride from here.” No response. “Roman?” Charlie huffs out. They'd been running through the trees, racing to their first destination. “Let me try.” They slow to a stop. He's done it before, he can do it again. A white stallion appears, calmly awaiting their next move. He gasps in pain, mind reeling. They have to move. To get away. “Roman!” Charlie steadies him, “Does summoning take too much energy?” He wrenches open his eyes, forcing himself to look around, “No, no I-” he takes a deep breath, “Please,” he begs, “We have to hurry.” He nods, “We will, come on,” he guides him onto the horse, “Do you want to tell your friends we’re coming?” “Yeah.” And they're off, racing unbelievably fast through the forest. Prince pushes away the fear, trying to focus. ‘Logic? How’re you holding up? We're less than ten minutes away.” ‘Functional. Did you feel that too?’ He responds immediately. ‘Yes.’ he thinks grimly. Don't think about it now. ‘Just to inform you, previously, I was wrong in the theory of my having been in Cinderella’s story. I'm in Snow White’s.’ He says it casually, as if he were informing him of the weather. ‘What makes you say that now?’ ‘Seven gentlemen have assured me that it was alright for me to be in their home, because I had cleaned it. The entire thing. Every square inch. With the help of many forest creatures.’ ‘So that's where they went…’ he thinks distantly. ‘What?’ ‘Nothing, see you soon.’ ‘Goodbye. What do you mean by “we're”?’ ‘You'll see.’ He spots the house’s looming roof approaching closer. He does not need to try so hard to think past the fear now. It was just gone. As quickly as it had come. The residual feeling left him…unsettled. No matter. Their journey was almost over. ‘Morality? We're getting Logan now, and then we'll be after you.’ ‘Alright.’ Came his simple reply. He furrows his brows worriedly, ‘Are you alright?’ ‘I'm fine, just a little under the weather. You felt that shadow too right?’ ‘Yes, I think-’ he hesitates to share this thought, ‘I think it's Anxiety.’ Morality’s tone softens, ‘He’ll be alright sport. And,’ he pauses, ‘If he's not, you'll be there to help him.’ ‘Thanks Dad. See you soon.’ ‘I'll be here.’ Prince grips, Charlie's waist a little tighter. “Less than five minutes,” he calls over his shoulder. He feels Prince's nod in acknowledgement. ‘Anxiety? Please tell me if you're alright. Please.’ Unlike the lack of response from before, now he could feel the emptiness of Anxiety’s absence. They ride up close to the entrance, Logic already mounted on a horse of his own. “They're lending me a horse for cleaning their entire house.” He says eyeing Charlie. “Logic.” “Charlie.” Prince sits up, feeling much calmer. “We're getting Morality now.” Logic nods. “He's a mermaid.” He adds a second later. He has just enough time to glimpse his surprised expression before he faces forward again. “Straight line to the water.” Charlie nods, “Got it.” In seemingly no time at all, the trio reaches the water's edge. Logic scans the lake in concern. Cupping his hands he calls out, “Morality!” The water ripples, but otherwise nothing happens and he doesn't appear. Suddenly, Prince spies an abnormally large tree, and thinks he glimpses a flash of blue between the branches. “Give me a minute you guys, I think I've found him. Gritting his teeth, he climbs the tree, minorly regretting the lack of protection for his hands. “Morality?” He spots him, sitting morosely against the trunk. Slowly stepping forward, he says, “Tell me the truth this time. Are you alright?” Tears well up in his eyes, and Prince watches as he wipes them away furiously. ‘Well I've been better, but I'm fine now,’ he looks up with a watery smile, and shrugs, ‘I don't know why but I just couldn't handle being alone.’ Roman kneels in front of him, mind racing. “You're not alone anymore now, are you feeling better?” ‘I should be. What I'm feeling is just a leftover from earlier. I suppose I'm feeling better now?’ Prince’s eyes dart around, his thoughts running overtime. “Morality this is going to sound silly, but I need you to look past your feelings of isolation and inspect any of your other emotions.” NHe eyes him questioningly, but otherwise takes the time to think for a moment. ‘I was very happy about having a tail,’ he thinks slowly, expression brightening, ‘Still am. And I felt at peace swimming in the calm and quiet,’ he scratches his head. ‘I don't know why that changed.’ “I have a theory, but that can wait until later. Now we must get Anxiety.” He picks him up and drapes him over his shoulders, “Are you feeling better?” He laughs silently, ‘Much.’ Then he sobers up, ‘Are you going to take the time to properly address your wounds?’ He pointedly stares between his leg, waist, and hands, with his arms crossed as best as he can while in the position they're in. Prince starts down the tree, “I will, I will. I'm not even bleeding anymore. Why were you in the tree?” he asks, changing the subject. He shrugs, ‘There's a cave under the lake. I knew that if I went in then I would get sucked into the story. So I climbed up this thing,’ he thinks, patting the base of the trunk once they reach the bottom. Once Morality is situated with Logic, they head toward the dark castle, trees getting farther and fewer between, until they're riding on a dry, rocky terrain. Something nags at Prince. ‘Logic, why did you clean the entire house?’ he asks within his mind. ‘I had to do something while you were gone. I couldn't just do nothing the entire time, useless in a room.’ ‘Alright.’ Prince felt that he had the pieces to figuring...something out. If only he knew what they meant. Useless. Lonely. Afraid. It couldn't mean- He hopes to the high heavens that he's wrong. 'Roman did you notice that there are no dark creatures launching from the roof?’ He looks up to see that that was indeed the case. Where could they have gone? ~ Prince hops off, “Thank you for your help.” he says, turning to Charlie. He climbs down from the horse as well, “All I did was show you the way, thank you for slaying the beast, for doing all you did to help Abigail. I was a bear, a stranger. I know that in some ways, I still am.When you leave this fantasy, will I ever see you again?” He smiles, “We don't always get summoned here, but I am more than a little certain that I could make my way here again.” “Maybe bring this Anxiety along?” he winks knowingly, “I'd love to meet him.” He nods in confirmation, gives a final parting hug, and turns towards the others, “You know the drill,” demeanor suddenly serious. He races past the ornate entrance, and through the little door at the base of the tallest tower. He knows where the witch is. He can sense it. Every step up brings him closer to it. He’ll kill it. Then they'll find Anxiety. It will be okay. Soon. Bursting into the room, sword at the ready, he scans the area. It was dark, save for the green glow that filled the air without any discernible light source. “Anxiety?” he asks fearfully, stepping even further into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. There he is, passed out beneath the window. No one else in the room. He rushes forward, sheathing his sword. “Anxiety!” he shakes him, hoping that the spinning wheel beside him meant nothing. Knowing that in this moment, it meant everything. “Anxiety please!” He stops. Picking him up bridal style, he lays him atop the bed. Nothing. He was breathing still, and Prince let's out a breath of his own at that. He stares silently at his still expression, calming down. He was pale. Paler than he should have been. He stands and turns in a steady circle, expression steely and unrelenting. “Witch. You know how this is supposed to go. Show yourself!” He was angry. Angry at this creature that had slipped through his defense. Angry that he had let it slip by without his noticing. It was not going to leave this room. A mass of darkness gathers, two blue eyes staring at him from within. A gaping hole appears underneath them, stretching itself into a crooked smile. “Haven't you noticed Princey?” Its tone sickeningly sweet, “There is no supposed. I'm here to stay, and not even you can bring me down.” It's suddenly right in front of him, and draws itself even closer. “Try and stop me.” He shivers as it lightly scratches his side. He shakes his head, taking a step back. Drawing his sword, he slashes, missing by a hair's width. It's gone, before he can try to swing again. He sees as it appears again. Hovering over Anxiety and quietly sinking down into him. Ice fills his veins. “No.” Anxiety opens his eyes, but they were not his. “Are you willing to kill him to get to me?” He stands up off the bed, sauntering closer, expression cold, confident. “No. I can get us out of here you know. And I will. Logic and Morality can even come too.” He stays silent, searching his eyes for anything. He laughs.“You're friend isn't here.” He taunts, “He's asleep. Just take my hand and we can all get out of here. Get you all patched up from your little adventure.” He says disdainfully. Prince bites back a groan, as it ghosts another touch over his wound again; just hard enough for it to start bleeding. He wiggles his fingers, inspecting the blood on it’s- Anxiety’s hand, and then offers the other one up. “My being here doesn't have to be a bad thing.” Slowly, he takes his hand and watches numbly as the cuts criss-crossing his fingers and palm knit themselves back together again. “See how easy that was? I think you'll be able to find that it will take no time at all to find my company rather,” it smirks, “pleasant.” Slowly he replaces his good hand for the remaining injured one. Dark tendrils curl up his arm, and caress his hair. The room dims, and Prince starts seeing double; finding it harder and harder to breath. As the second hand heals, he pulls Anxiety’s body closer. He wasn't thinking as clearly as usual, this much he knew, the second the thing had offered his hand. Anxiety’s hand. If he didn't try to do something, they would all be empty shells. Puppets to the witch. He stares, into the the creatures eyes. One of the only things, tipping him off of his dominating presence. It's eyes. Cold and blue. Not brown. Not warm or fiery. Not passionate or focused. Steely. Hollow. Not Anxiety’s eyes. With hands like lead, he cups his face and brings it closer to his own, stopping only when he's centimeters away. “I'm sorry Anx.” Before closing the gap he whispers softly into his ear. “Come on then.“ The second their lips touch, a purple light floods the room. Just as quickly as it had come it disappeared; taking the haunting green light away as well. Prince opens his eyes, shaking his head to try and clear the fog. He watches with relief as Anxiety’s eyes open too, and the familiar brown color swirls back into view. “Roman?” he asks in surprise, blinking his eyes to clear away the haze. Eyes flickering over his shoulder, he freezes and grabs Prince’s sword, whirling around him with surprising speed, and slashing through the rematerializing darkness. The sudden anger and fear fades from his face and he slumps, Prince catching him just before he hits the ground. The sword disappears, no longer needed for now. The witch is dead. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Anxiety blinks his eyes open again. He swears that he won't take another nap for a long while if he could help it. He was- Back in his room. Or rather, being carried into it. Shifting his head, he looks up to see that Roman was the one carrying him. “Roman, you can put me down now.” No response. He wiggles around, and that seems to snap him out of it. “Anxiety?” His says his name with distant surprise. Setting him down with exaggerated care, he sways on the spot. Anxiety swallows, taking him to his personal bathroom. Nudging him onto the toilet seat, he scavenges for the necessary medical supplies. Taking a deep breath, he snaps his fingers in front of Roman’s eyes, “You still with me Princey?” He focuses on him and the bathroom for a second, nodding. Licking his lips, he stares curiously up at him. “What are you doing?” “Patching you up, your hands are fine now, but there's still a burn on your left leg and a bloody gash on your side.” He strips his tunic, and gets a clearer look at it. Lightly tracing it, he assesses the severity of it. Frowning, he sets to work. For the next hour, Anxiety washes away the blood and dirt, stitches the gash, and bandages his leg. Both wounds wouldn't need more work than that for now. He worked efficiently and quietly the whole time, pausing only once when Prince gripped his shoulder for support. Once finished, he kneels between his legs. Looking him up and down one last time, he sighs and finally looks into his eyes to find him already staring at him. “You alright?” Dumb question right now, but it was one that needed to be asked. “Am I alright?” he parrots back incredulously, standing slowly (Anxiety doesn't miss the wince he tries to hide). “I'm perfect thanks to you. A little woozy from the adrenaline crash-” “And blood loss.” He cuts in, struggling to his own feet. Jumping in surprise as Prince takes his elbow and leads him out into his room, towards his bed. “Are you alright?” They situate themselves against the headboard. “Prince, we were all out there for the day. I don't know about the others, but I was just sitting in the top of the tower the entire time. Sleeping, on and off until…” he trails off. “Until?” “Until the spinning wheel. I couldn't move.” He brings his knees up to his chest. “You confronted the witch, saved us, fought something that could hurt you like this,” he gestures up and down his frame, “and won.” He rests his head on his knees, facing away from Prince. “Anxiety you were possessed by that monster,” he struggles for what to say next, “Yes you were in the tower, but that was for the best. Had you left, you might’ve gotten stuck in the story sooner. I-,” he sighs, “How did you feel when you were in the tower?” “Fine.” Roman purses his lips. “There was a phenomena that temporarily linked all four of us for a short time.” Anxiety turns to face him. “I was afraid. It was heart-stopping, the blind fear that crashed over me,” he shivers from the memory, “Morality was lonely. It was visceral and numbing. Logan kept busy to keep the feeling of uselessness at bay. I couldn't, for the life of me, connect with you.” “Because I was fine. I-” “You were just as afraid, lonely, and worried as the rest of us. You’re allowed to feel like that you know?” Prince's eyes fight to stay open, but it was a losing battle and Anxiety noticed. Instead of answering the question directed at him, he gently nudged the royal into a more comfortable position. “If you really want to talk about this. Then we can do it later.” Prince nods absently. They would be talking. Eyes drifting shut, his fingers sneak to the edges of Anxiety’s hoodie, hanging on. ~ They're laying together, still in Anxiety’s room, movie credits rolling up the screen. Prince had opened his eyes to seeing Anxiety in the middle of watching “Cinderella”. He had shifted just enough to see the screen, and they had watched her story unfold, and now they sat in silence. “Do you want to talk about it now?” Prince asks, eyes staring resolutely at the screen. “No. Probably should though.” He sits up next to him, “You don't have to if you are not ready yet.” Anxiety takes his wrist, gingerly inspecting the places where the cuts had been on his hand. “I have some questions.” “Shoot.” “What do you think it wanted with me? Logic,Morality, and you were dropped off in some random location, but it was in my head.” “Do you know how witches manifest? How they feed?” He shakes his head. “Fear. Any type of fear, they'll find it, big or small, and feed it until they themselves can cause it directly. That thing used you as a stepping stone, but it made a mistake.” “How?” He asks bitterly, “I'm the cause of all the fear around here. Seems to me like it's plan was almost fool proof.” Prince shakes his head emphatically, “You're not just fear. Every thought you bring to light, every worry, or suggestion. It's not fear, it's caution. Believe me.” He shrugs, looking down, “Hard to think like that sometimes, I guess.” “Well let me do it for you.” he shoves his shoulder lightly with his own, “Alarm clock. You were making sure it was set, and woke him up to check. Just in case. It even started his day off right.” He added. “I still don't get that, how does waking up hours earlier than you’re supposed to, start your day off right?” Prince hums, then says, “The best part of waking up, is going back to sleep.” He smiles brightly, eliciting a small smile in return. “Fine. Try to explain the monsters under the bed or in the closet.” “Precaution. It's better to check for threats sooner, than to have them spring out of the darkness when you're least expecting it.” “Exactly. I mean-” he coughs, “Okay.” he leans on him then, silent once again. The tv shuts off. “I thought you guys were going to leave me behind.” Prince starts, “What-” “I figured it was what you guys were gonna do,” he interrupts. “Why would you guys need me? I'd be fumbling my way around, slowing you guys down. No one really wants me anyway, no one would miss me. I'd be better off, sitting in the top of the tower where no one would have to worry about me showing up randomly.” “That's what you think?” He shrugs. “Logan would miss you.” He snorts at that, “You guys just need to get better about debating, he'd be okay.” “Not likely, on both points. Dad would miss you, you're part of the family.” “He has you guys. He would also be alright.” “I would miss you.” He looks up at him, “You don't need me, you'd be fine.” he says in a smaller voice. “Thomas would miss you, and no one else would come even close in being able to fill the place where you belong in my heart.” He blushes and hopes that the other wouldn't see it. Fortunately he ducks his head, “Sap.” “And who would I be if I weren't that?” he asks dramatically, hand to his forehead. They sit in comfortable silence. “Wait- no, Thomas would be the one out of all of you guys who’d benefit the most if I were just...gone.” “Benefit from throwing caution to the wind? From never looking closer at the world and it’s dangers?” Anxiety sighs, feeling tired. “Fine, I’m … I suppose I’m glad I’m not gone.” “Thank you for being there for us.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Prince blinks open his eyes, smiling softly down at Anxiety. He was curled against his chest, lazily scrolling through his phone, relaxed. He shivers, pulling himself away from Anxiety's grasp to get off the bed, looking down at h im apologetically. “I'll be back. It's just a little cold in here; so I shall return in something more comfortable.” He turns to the door. “Ah ah ahh. I'm afraid nothing you can do will stop the cold.” Prince whirls around immediately, baring his teeth, sword magically in hand. “Anxiety killed you.” It was supposed to be dead. Gone, and unable to invade Anxiety like this anymore. It stares up through Anxiety's eyes, tossing his phone over his shoulder, giving Prince an unimpressed look. He- it quirks a brow, “Put that thing away. It won't do you any good while I'm this,” he says, gesturing up and down Anxiety's body. He lowers the sword slowly, saying more insistently, “Anxiety killed you.” It sniffs in indignation. “He destroyed a weaker witch by chance. Did you really believe that that was the end?” It sighs, waving away his attempt to reply. “Of course you did. You've been out of the game a long time Princey . You're very rusty, having forgotten after all these years what little you've learned when on whatever grand quest you would delude yourself with.” Dropping his sword to the floor, he strides forward. Green eyes track his every move. He grabs it by the t-shirt unceremoniously. “Forgive me Anxiety.” With his eyes closed, their lips connect. Nothing. It didn't work. Why? No flash of light. Green eyes blink open lazily. “ You never did bring up the fact that your kiss broke his curse. Shame you won't be able to.” He steps back, and back, and back, until he's out the door. Warn Morality and Logic. Find them. He rubs his hands together, trying to warm them up. Why was it so cold. ~ Anxiety glances up from his phone to smile fondly up at Prince. They'd been resting together in his room, Anxiety against his chest, and he'd managed to fall asleep without Anxiety's notice. He reaches up to brush a strand of hair that had fallen onto his face, Roman never did like getting caught with a strand out of place, and pauses. Putting his hand flush against his forehead makes him frown, noting how cold he felt to the touch. The room was a bit chilly. Wiggling Prince around carefully, he manages to get him under the bed covers. He sighs in relief, feeling as his temperature began to rise back to normal. Standing, he tiptoes out of the room to find Morality and Logic. Maybe they were in the kitchen? ~ Anxiety covers a snort, looking to Morality in shock. “Patton you were a mermaid?” He shrugs, chuckling around a bite of pancakes. Swallowing, he opens his mouth to reply, only to close it again. “So you were Ariel and Logan was Snow. “ He runs a hand through his hair, effectively knocking off his hood. “Well, now I at least know about as much as you guys do.” Morality ruffles his hair as he grabs the used plates off the table. Humming a joyful tune, he rinses them off in the sink, then pauses. Releasing a fond huff, Anxiety rolls his head to face him, “Out with it.” “How many tickles does it take to make a squid laugh?” He giggles brightly, “Ten-tickles!” Anxiety snorts, covering his face in amusement. “How many fish puns have you got up your sleeve?” “So many.” Conjuring a cup of coffee, Morality heads to the door, “I'm gonna head off and drop this off with Logan, alright kiddo?” Anxiety just waves casually over his shoulder, already pulling out his phone. ~ “You had a late night last night. You out of all of us, know what happens when one doesn't get a full night's rest.” Morality reprimands lightly, passing over the hot coffee before leaning back on the bed. Logic thanks him silently, accepting the cup from his place at his desk. “And what about you?” he asks, raising a single brow. “You were with me the whole night and received just as much sleep as I.” He tilts his head, “That's different because I'm a grownup.” “We’re the same age.” Morality bounces up, “Oh would you look at that! I better check in on Roman to see how he's doing.” With that, he dashes out of the room, leaving a bemused Logan behind to sip his coffee. ~ Sinking down, Morality pops up in front of Prince’s door. Popping his head in, he blinks in surprise at the neatly made bed. Or rather the lack of Prince on it. “Hey kiddo?” Anxiety rises up next to him. “I'm not a kid you know.” Morality smiles brightly, “Alright son,” he gestures to the door, “Have you seen Roman?” Anxiety gestures down the hallway, “Princey was resting with me before I ate with you.” He begins walking down the hall, leading Morality. “You don't want to sink?” Morality asks, scratching his head. He shrugs, admitting casually, “Walking is calming to me.” After a few more twists and turns, Anxiety pushes his door open for Morality. “I've never been to your room before.” Stepping in, Morality takes in the simple room, noticing that there weren’t many personal touches. “You're gonna have to wait a bit longer Mo. It's in guest mode.” Anxiety walks to the bed, beginning to shake Prince lightly. “Come on Princey, you've been asleep for hours. It’s time to get up.” He doesn't stir. Morality steps up beside him, feeling his temperature before pulling back abruptly. “He's so cold. The room isn't this cold.” “Come on Prince, wake up!” Anxiety shakes him harder, panic creeping into his voice, until Morality pulls him away. “ Roman!” Suddenly quiet, Anxiety turns to Morality. “Why won't he wake up?” He couldn't answer. He didn't know. ~ Prince walks to the edge of the mindscape. Frustrated, he turns around to see the thing that was possessing Anxiety. “Why won't you leave me alone!?” It doesn't answer. “Where are Morality and Logic?”, he tries again, asking through gritted teeth. It stares. Posture relaxed, face neutral, eyes green, it stares. Then it begins to walk into the empty space that was the unused mindscape, beckoning Prince to follow. Helpless to do anything, he follows. Shadows follow them, curling around Anxiety. “Do you have a name?” He asks curtly. “ My my Princey . Do you want to get to know me?” “Hardly. It is rather annoying to constantly refer to you as ‘it’ in my mind. I merely wish for an alternate title, unless ‘it’ suits you.” It glances over Anxiety's shoulder with a feral grin. “You can call me Anxiety?” He glares. “ No dice? Alright. Call me Mal.” He nods. “Fitting. Malicious, malevolent-” He cuts himself off as he spots a shadowy figure in the distance running towards them. “Anxiety?” He glances suspiciously between the figure on his left and the one approaching. He collapses, and Prince rushes forward, Mal trailing silently behind him. “ Anxiety!” He almost bowls him over in his haste to get to him. He falls to his knees, reaching out to touch him- His hand slips through. He closes his eyes, retracting his arm. “Oh, a trick from you?” He whispers, voice strained. “ No. He is nothing but a memory. There are many of him wandering.” Prince opens his eyes to see Mal staring intently at the memory, gaze hungry, turning he looks as well. Scared. This memory was of a moment of Anxiety’s fear. Shaking, eyes wide, he stares unseeing, through Prince. Mal abruptly stands, heading in a seemingly random direction. Prince stands to follow, turning back only once to see the memory fade back into shadows. ~ They wander the unused portion of the mind silently. Shadows beginning to fill the mindscape, one at a time, until every which way he looks, there is a shadow of Anxiety. The closest is one with silent tears tracking down his face, standing upright; but looking for all the world like all he wanted to do was fall down and not get up again. “What do you want?” Prince felt tired, so very tired, and cold. If he didn't know any better, he'd say his fingers were turning blue. “What do I want? I want you to fade Princey. I want you to disappear. To cease to exist. That is what I want. The other sorry excuse for a witch was weak. Feigning patience for months, but really just tormenting your love.” Mal sneers turning on Prince. “Weak. Greedy for the fear and pain he was causing. It’s laughable really. He was in his head for so long that he started to believe that he wanted you, eventually pulling together the silly plan that he could be in power over Thomas with you and the others by his side. I will pick you off one at a time. ” It swiftly grabs his hands, Prince pulling them back with surprise. He didn’t feel it’s touch. Licking his lips, he rubs his hands together. They were blue. The icy color crawled up his skin. Smiling humorlessly, he turns to Mal, knowing what twisted fairytale the witch had turned on him. “It is only a matter of time before you are gone.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- There was only so much the three of them could do to keep Prince’s temperature from dropping further. Morality dressed him in the warmest clothes he could conjure, Anxiety created a fireplace; but. It was nothing. In Anxiety’s mind, none of it made a real difference if he wouldn't wake up . His cold temperature wasn't even the half of it, they’d found that ice was crawling up his fingers. Slowly but surely, and nothing they did could make it stop. Asking Thomas about what he believed was going on only lead him to telling them that his drive for creativity was feeling numb. Anxiety could've laughed. He almost did, but it would have come out sounding hysterical. No one needed to hear that. Thomas didn't know what was happening, not really. None of them had the heart to tell him the whole truth. What they did tell him, was that Prince would be out of commission for a little while. He was just sick. Technically not a lie. Kneeling at Prince's bedside, Anxiety plays the conversation over and over in his mind; while Morality and Logic try to talk quietly behind him. There was something about Thomas’s face; his expression when he'd searched internally to find his creativity. He'd been hiding something. Casting a glance over his shoulder at the other two, Anxiety sinks out to confront him. Maybe it was nothing; a useless and paranoid thought that would lead to nothing. Maybe it could help. ~ “There’s something you didn't tell us.” Thomas’s startled yelp, is enough to give him pause. He turns towards him, clutching at his chest, “You just about gave me a heart attack.” Deliberately slowing his breathing down, he ponders his statement. “Oh.” Licking his lips, he looks down suddenly bashful. “You all told me that Roman was sick, but I didn’t quite believe you guys; and when I tried to find him..well? It felt weird, but,” he stops, looking up with a timid smile, “It felt almost like he was in a fantasy.” His smile drops, and he looks to Anxiety with a small shrug, “It didn’t feel right. I sure don’t know why , but I didn’t think it was important enough to bring up.” Anxiety nods, taking it in. Quietly grateful that he wasn’t asking why he wanted to know, he feigns indifference to this new information, and flicks a casual salute to Thomas in thanks, sinking back to his place by Romans side. Logan and Patton watch him silently as he returns. Licking his lips, he turns his head to watch them from his peripheral, never quite taking his eyes off of Romans sleeping face, “How exactly does Roman leave a fantasy?” Patton sat down beside him with his legs crossed, supporting his head with both of his hands, “Well, every fantasy was modeled off of a fairytale.”He scratches his head, clearly trying to remember, before snapping his fingers, “Usually to draw out the witch that caused the fantasy in the first place, Roman would have to do the universal fairytale cure for curses and other magical maladies.” Dawning realization comes over his face, and he answers his own question, “True loves kiss?” But, that meant that Roman- “How did he get you guys out before?” Patton smiled in understanding, “He was able to do it in the beginning because he'd always had a broader understanding of what loving us meant. You know how there are different forms of love?” He nods. “It had gotten harder in later fantasies though, as he internally began to define what kind of love equated to “true love” in order to complete the story,” Logan piped in, sitting down to join them, leaning against Patton. He looks between the two in shock. “He kissed me to draw out the witch. I don't remember it, but he kissed me.” Patton smiles encouragingly, “And what do you think that means?” It couldn't mean what he thought it meant, what they were implying. If- if it were true than. Than what? “I don't think I want to say it out loud,” he breathes out, trying to grasp onto the idea that there was the possibility of- Love directed at him from Roman. A love pure and true. It sounded so crazy, and yet? It sounded like his Prince. That was the kind of love meant for- For fairy tales, the kind that ended curses and meant declarations of forever . Maybe this wasn't that? But, pretend for a moment that there wasn't any room for doubt or uncertainty. Maybe it was the truth. That meant that- Patton stands up, pulling Logan up with him, “We’ll go make tea. Would you like anything?” He shakes his head slowly, still trying to grasp the idea of this contradictorily complicated yet simple solution. He was making it complicated. They leave his room, and then he is left alone with the sleeping prince. Maybe it won't work. If he tried and failed, they'd still be left with a sleeping Roman, frost still crawling up his body. Dying. He closes his eyes, letting out a quiet breath. Brown eyes open to stare at Roman, the prince that may just love him. He sits up to kneel over him. ~ Roman shivers and shakes, hugging his knees against the headboard of the room he'd brought Verge to earlier. It wasn't his room, not really. “Guest mode” is what he usually referred it as? Mal was leaning against the door of the place, silent. He didn't know which one of them had moved them here, only that they were there after he'd closed his eyes for a second. The waiting was agonizing, the silence dragging. And he knew that the witch was reveling in his pain, feeding off of it. He closed his eyes. Where was Patton and Logan? He grimaces, thinking about how he knew exactly where Virgil was, not having the heart to look at him. Opening his eyes became harder and harder to do. His shivering down sides, and a thought drifts to the front of his mind. Logan telling him the symptoms of hypothermia. Shivering was good, it meant his body was still doing all it could to keep him warm. He wasn't shivering anymore. He would be worried, but- Warm. He was starting to feel warm. He sighed, relaxing into the sensation. Gaze sliding to Mal, he catches his hungry expression. His plan was working. But for all that he cared for Thomas and the others, he couldn't bring himself to dwell on whether or not they would be alright once he was gone. He was warming up. He was safe. He was- rising? Everything around him started to fade away. Well he supposes this is what heaven is supposed to look like. Bright lights, and a dark mysterious figure kneeling over him. Peeling his eyes open further, he blinks hazily up at- “Virgil?” This could have been heaven. Virgil was as much his angel in life as any other in death. It could have been. Except he was cold again, shivering again. Straining to breathe through thawing lungs. It was hard to breathe, but, every breath came easier, every move he made hurt less. He reached up to grasp his shirt, desperate to see the color of his eyes. Brown. Beautiful, breathtakingly brown. He sighed in relief, letting go. Good. Wait. “Roman? If you can hear me, I need you to answer me.” Ah. Virgil was talking to him. He needed to answer. Blinking up again he pulls out a smile, “I'm fine,” pouting when it came out sounding like, “Mm fnn.” Virgil only laughs softly in understanding, taking a moment to rest his forehead against Romans chest. He sits up again, wiping at his eyes quickly, to glance around the room. Standing up, he takes a deep breath and summons Romans sword. Face twisting in confusion, he struggles to sit up, thoughts moving slow. “What?” Virgil understands what he's trying to ask. He keeps the sword raised, eyes never stopping their search of the room when he answers, “You aren't in any shape to kill a witch.” No sooner had the final words left his mouth when the shadows gather in the far corner, the room growing larger. “You think you’re strong enough to stop me?” For his credit, Virgil seems unfazed, turning with the darkness as it roves across the floor. “I know I am.” “You're the reason I'm here. The reason all of this is happening. The reason your precious prince almost died. Without you they'd all be fine” Roman’s eyes widen, as he rushes to stand on shaky knees. That wasn't true. Virgil shoots him a watery smile. “That's not true.” The darkness jerks up to form a figure, before spilling into a swirling pool again. “You don't believe that. You're the burden, the darkness. You're weak, and you know it,” it snarls, rising again before disappearing just as quickly, “Drop that silly toy, you won't stop me.” It forms slower this time around, “However,I can help you leave. Your absence could keep them from hurting again.” It falls. Virgil's eyes flash dangerously as the darkness shifts closer to Roman. “You ever hear the old expression that if you tell yourself something enough times you'll eventually believe it?” He calmly steps between it and Roman. “Maybe,” his voice cracks on the word, “Maybe all of this is my fault.” It rises. “Maybe this could all be avoided again if I left.” It glides closer, a clear and familiar expression on the twisted face it's formed. Hunger. Roman struggles to speak, to reach our, but finds himself stuck in place. Unable to shout that that wasn't true,that he shouldn't listen. “ Without me, the others would be safe. Thomas would be fine.” It was closer now. In a blink, Virgil had run the sword clean through it. No more shadows. No more witch. He throws the sword to the side, turning around just in time to see Roman fall to his knees. “Virgil I-,” he gasps for breath, “Have to tell you before it's too late-,” another breath, “Gotta-,” his thought were running a mile a minute and if he could only think clearly- Virgil helps him up, settling them both on the edge of his bed, much like how Roman had done for him not so long ago. “Breathe Roman,” he soothes, “We have time.” He turns to him than, searching his face but ultimately doing what he's told. In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight. Repeat. They were safe. They had time. But- “Those were lies right? Did you really mean all those things you’d said?” Virgil hums, focusing on the room around them until it's shifted into a quiet beach, stars twinkling up above. “Sometimes.” He glances back, before conceding, “Most of the time.” He grasps his hand, bringing it up against his own heart, “Please believe me when I say that it isn't true. Not a word of it. If you were gone I nothing would be the same, and not for the reasons you think.” His eyes fall shut, and he continues, “I think I was the one to somehow bring the creature into being. I was afraid of- of losing you. And it fed off of my fear, and...” He trails off, struggling to find the right words. Soft fingers guide his head up, and he opens his eyes to see Virgil searching his expression. Debating with himself. To say- “I love you too.” He gasps,thoughts screeching to a halt, before lunging forward to give him a hug, making the other laugh, as they both end up sprawled on the bed. “Had to say it before I lost my nerve.” Roman scoots back to stare at him a wide smile on his face, and the world comes into focus. The softly crashing waves, the moon and starlight against Virgil, the feeling of having him in his arms. “I love you.” He'd finally said it, and suddenly he could breathe easier, a weight falling off of him that he'd been carrying for so long. Virgil scoots a little closer, a small smile on his lips “I can't believe it.” “Than I'll just have to tell you every hour of everyday until you do.” That was a promise he would gladly keep if it meant he could keep him close. Slowly, he leans forward to brush his lips against his forehead, before leaning back for further permission. He earns a nod. “I love you.” A kiss to the nose, that draws out a laugh, making Verge cover his mouth. He gently pulls his hand away, kissing his knuckles. “I love you.” A single kiss for both smiling cheeks, slowly turning red. “I love you.” He gently brushes his fingers over his eyes, to ghost a kiss over each eyelid in turn. When he opens his eyes again, Roman glances down at his lips. “May I?” Virgil let's out a breathless confirmation. He leans in, until he's a hair's width away, “I love you,” before closing the small distance between them. Their lips gently move against each other, and if Roman thought that heaven was bright lights and an angel earlier, than he knew surely that this was heaven for real. They pull apart with a sigh, to catch their breaths, leaning their foreheads against each other. Until Roman glances up, expression shy. “Hey Verge?” “Hmm?” “Would you do me the honor of being my boyfriend?” Elated, he says, “Yes,” before pulling his lips back onto his own. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. The two were lounging in a hammock together, the lazy afternoon sun shining against the water's surface of the beach Verge had made. You make me happy when skies are gray. Today was a day off for the both of them. No videos to film or make, no social situations to monitor. Just a couple of slow easy hours to spend together. You'll never know dear how much I love you. Virgil watched the water lap against the sandy shore while Roman played with his hair. Eventually, the two will fall asleep. Both will dream easily in each others arms. But for now, they are relaxed and content to simply be. Please don't take my sunshine away.
10465002	Bottoms Up	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Olivier Mira Armstrong, Miles (Fullmetal Alchemist)", "Fandom": "Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by SonjaJade", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-27T00:00:00", "words": "356", "Additional Tags": "Holidays, Celebrations, Drinking", "Relationship": "Olivier Mira Armstrong/Miles", "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 }	Every holiday, the same worn out banners would go up in the mess hall and the same worn out recipes for homemade beer, wine and some concoction known only as ‘grog’ would show up.After gathering together at precisely 5 p.m., everyone would shout “Happy Yule!” or “Happy Beltane!” or “Happy White Day!”, followed by Butch the cook leading everyone in a holiday song, then the man would bellow out, “BOTTOMS UP, BOYS!”It was a routine older than many of the soldiers stationed at Fort Briggs, and no one but two had dared buck those time honored traditions. Away from the crowd, away from the noise and the alcohol and the rowdy good time, Gen. Armstrong and Maj. Miles stood on top of the wall overlooking Drachma. It was still and silent, black sky and white snow, their breath puffing gentle and gray in the twilight.His gloved hands opened a silver thermos of imported Cretan coffee, to which he added a bit of rum from a flask hidden in his coat. “Happy White Day, sir,” he said quietly as he passed the aluminum cup to the woman he would give his life for.The Ice Queen took the cup with a nod of thanks, sipping it without even blowing the heat away from the surface. “Mmm, just right as always, Miles.” She watched as he poured himself a cup and clanked her cup to his. “Bottoms up,” she smirked.Without missing a beat, he shook his head and replied, “Not out here, you’d freeze your beautiful bottom off.”She nearly snorted through her nose and then she said, “Later, then.”Miles gave her a lingering gaze. “Yes, later… up until dawn.”This time she smiled genuinely to herself, listening as the wind picked up. “I will definitely drink to that.”The wind calmed once more and the sounds of off key singing and shouts of “Chug! Chug! Chug!” made their way faintly to the top of the wall. But as the Major had embraced his commander and was currently distracting her with a warm kiss, the sounds of her merry men went unheard.
10410567	How to Catch a	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Darcy Lewis, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, an evil Leprechaun, a perverted Leprechaun, Sam Wilson, Jane Foster, Thor, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, multiple Steve Rogers and Darcy Lewises", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Bulmaveg_Otaku, emma98, ibelieveinturtles, meleedamage, phoenix_173", "chapters": "5/5", "completed": "2017-03-31", "published": "2017-03-23T00:00:00", "words": "12,917", "Additional Tags": "Crack, unfiltered and unsupervised crack, that leprechaun is a bad little dude, very special musical episode, very special Shakespearean episode, a very special porntastic voyuerism episode, don't put a bunch of different authors in a google doc magical things will happen, also don't let the 18 year old in charge of the tags, tiny Steve not skinny Steve, the shieldshock isn't too heavy handed if that's not your bag, did I mention the crack?", "Relationship": "Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/M, Gen, Multi", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	How To Catch a Leprechaun Darcy Lewis was fed up. Her dream job was rapidly turning into a Nightmare on Elm Street scenario. Sure, Pepper Potts deposited six figures into her previously malnourished bank account every year, but with the way everything was going, Darcy was considering asking for a hefty raise. Maybe even an extra zero. “Uhm...Darce?”Darcy continued to maniacally set up her project, muttering the whole time. Steve looked at her curiously, a little wary of the woman who was rapidly transforming the common room into something that resembled a cartoon. She had commandeered a refractory machine from the cloaking project that Fury had commissioned to hide his helicarrier in the sky. Instead of using it for cloaking purposes, she had used it to make dozens of rainbows all over the common room. One corner had a large cauldron full of gelt, and what Steve hoped wasn’t actually gold coins. And then of course there was the glitter. It was everywhere. Everywhere .“What are you—what exactly are you trying to do?” Steve wondered.“I am trying to prove a point,” Darcy muttered as she began ripping open bags of Lucky Charms. “I’m gonna catch me a leprechaun, Rogers. And then those idiot scientists are going to STOP trying to prove to Reed Richards that they can make time travel possible before he can.”“I don’t understand how that works,” Steve scratched at his head, not wanting to further distress the very upset young woman who was throwing Lucky Charms cereal in the air like it was confetti.Darcy looked tired. She looked a few levels beyond tired, if Steve was being honest. She was definitely bordering on the edge of hysteria. Once the Lucky Charms were appropriately scattered everywhere (including Steve’s hair), Darcy grabbed a bottle of champagne and took a large swig.“Want some?” she offered him the bottle.“Uhm, sure,” Steve nodded, taking the bottle and drinking from it. His brow furrowed immediately and he looked down at the bottle, seeing that the label was wrinkled at the corner. He pulled at it and realized it was fake… and what was underneath was kind of concerning. “Darcy, who gave this to you?”“Stark. He thinks he can butter me up so I’ll approve his requisition for uranium. I’m not bringing uranium to his base, I’m not,” Darcy insisted. “Oh boy,” Steve sighed. “Darcy, this is the bottle of Asgardian spirits that Thor got me. If I have a glass and a half, I’m usually drunk off my ass.”Darcy blinked up at Steve in confusion. And then she saw it. The leprechaun dancing on Steve’s shoulder. “Uh oh,” she whispered before everything went completely black. Darcy opened her eyes and recognized the sound of birds tweeting joyously. That was unusual. Birds didn’t really tweet so close to the Avengers base. Something about Maria Hill installing the invisible anti-bird fences that deterred the winged creatures using sonic frequencies. She had said that Clint and Sam were enough birds for one base. She sat up and realized that she was in a bed, a very frilly, four poster bed, complete with lace curtains obstructing her view from the outside. Her usual pajamas that consisted of underwear and the largest t-shirt she could find (one she had stolen from Barnes, unlike Steve, he actually wore t-shirts that fit his muscles, sadly, it might have been nice to have Bucky stuffed into mediums as well as Steve, but then Darcy would have to sleep in the nude). Instead, she was wearing a long silk chemise, complete with itchy lace edges. “This is a problematic nightgown,” Darcy muttered, crawling along the king sized bed to get to one of the curtains. She wrestled with the curtain for about a minute longer than was strictly necessary and cursed a few times under her breath. “Who does this? Who is awake enough in the morning to deal with lace curtains?”When she finally managed to get the curtain to part, she looked down and realized that she was very high up for a person who was barely five feet and three inches tall. Very carefully she climbed down ass first, taking a breath of relief when her feet finally hit the cold ground. She looked around for her well worn slippers, the ratty ones that used to be pink pigs and and now resembled a faded, dirty snout nosed alien creature. Instead, there were a pair of backless kitten heels, pale white with a large poofy pom pom decoration on the front. “Are freaking kidding me?” Darcy sighed, popping them on her feet regardless. It was then that she noticed that the melodic bird tweets weren’t actually melodic bird tweets, but instead, was an actual gentle melody played by a flute. It had started gentle, but was rapidly swelling in volume and intensity.“Friday? Cut the tunes, dude. I don’t want to listen to Steve’s boring orchestral stuff so early in the morning,” Darcy sighed. “I have to get caffeine in me before I can pretend to appreciate the boring stuff.”The music didn’t stop Instead, the flutes were replaced with a humor laden clarinet solo as Darcy hobbled in her kitten heels to the door of the bedroom. The moment she opened the door was when the clarinet let out one long, fading note and finally, there was quiet.“Good morning! Good morning, I’ve missed your smiling face .”“Hold on, what?” Darcy whispered as Thor sang his greeting, then did a little suave step ball change into her field of vision, looking dapper and gorgeous in a pair of old fashioned men’s pajamas, complete with a velvet red smoking jacket. “Good morning! Good morning! It’s time to do science about space!” Jane sang as she handed Darcy a cup of tea. Jane was dressed very similarly to Darcy, looking like a petite and delicate Ginger Rogers. She had a satin housecoat on over her nightie though, fur trimmed and completely useless in warding off the cold that Jane was constantly complaining about in the lab that Bruce and Tony kept at a cool sixty degrees. The music swelled even louder and the tempo changed, going into a kicky little uptempo dance number. Darcy couldn’t believe her eyes, but Thor held out his hand, grabbing Jane’s delicately before twirling her so that she spun her body into his. And then they started dancing. Really, really well. “Uhhhhhhhhmmmm,” Darcy only stood there watching in astonishment as Thor and Jane did a perfect quickstep around the spacious living room of Thor’s quarters. She looked down at the tea Jane had handed her and then back to the pair currently practicing for Dancing With the Stars . “Did Science do this? Are we—1937 Musical Style pollened? Is that a thing?”Thor and Jane didn’t answer her, they continued to do their incredibly impressive dancing. Seriously, if Darcy had a score card, she would hold up a 10. Instead, she put the suspicious tea down and very carefully made her way to the front door, before the dancing duo could try to make it a dancing trio. She escaped successfully and ran clumsily down the hall of the residential floor, heading straight for an elevator and diving in before the doors could close. She looked down at the flimsy nightgown she had on and wondered just how her boobs hadn’t knocked her out during her impromptu sprint. “Man, I gotta get me one of these old timey cone-boob bras,” she muttered before looking up and realizing that she wasn’t alone. “Oh, Sam. Hey dude. Is it just me, or is everything crazy for you, too?”The elevator sound system had been disabled months ago after a very hard fought prank war between Darcy and Clint. Apparently a half deaf person thought it perfectly hilarious to blare Wham!’s Wake Me Up Before You Go, Go in the elevator at inhumane levels twenty four hours a day. And he especially found it awesome to lock Darcy in said elevator with Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes and Thor. The three men hadn’t been familiar with the song at first and had declared it a good tune. The first three times. After three hours of the song, Bucky was ready to fall off the former murderer wagon again, Steve was in tears and Thor had summoned Mjolnir to escape and had actually trashed the entire elevator system.So it wasn’t the elevator sound system that was currently playing a bad, muzak version of Lionel Ritchie’s Hello . That was likely all part of this weird place Darcy had woken up in.“I've been alone with you from time to time, and in my dreams I've punched your face, a thousand times ,” Sam sang soulfully, looking earnest and sincere. The elevator came to a quick stop and the doors slipped open, revealing Bucky Barnes on the other side. Sam stared directly at Bucky and sang right in his face, “ I sometimes see you pass outside my door Hello, can I kick you in the shins some more? ”Bucky sighed and took deep breath, ready to sing something back at Sam no doubt. Darcy shook her head and pushed Bucky away from the elevator door, making a run for it.“This is crazy town, ” Darcy huffed out as she ran past a room where Tony was delivering an epic raging rock song as he danced on top of a lab bench. “Nope, I want no part of that.”She had to get out of there. This was not how life happened. It was not a musical. Steve Rogers was waiting for her at the end of the hall, looking earnest and lovely and adoring. He held out one of his arms towards her, Prince Charming-style and opened his mouth to sing something. “NO!” Darcy yelled and put her Natasha Romanoff-approved defense training to good use, reaching up and putting a fist in Steve’s throat. As Steve bent over in half, choking and gasping as he continued to try to sing some kind of cheesy love ballad at her, Darcy caught a flash of green out of the corner of her eye. She suddenly remembered the leprechaun and realized that the only way out of this, and back to her own normal plane of existence was to catch that little green goblin of mischief and fuckery.“Get back here, you little bastard!” In the space of a blink, Darcy felt her entire center of gravity re-aligning and when she opened her eyes again, she was back in the common room, all evidence of the musical gone. Steve was staring down at her in apparent concern as Darcy swayed on her feet.“Darce? You okay?” Steve worried, bringing up his hands to reach out for her.“Come here, you little sonuvabitch!” Darcy growled as she lunged at Steve. He managed to catch her in his arms before she ended up face first on the floor, but she squirmed out of his hold and took off down the hallway, bellowing about rainbows and scientists.Steve shook his head, dislodging the last of the Lucky Charms that had been stuck in his hair. Determined not to let the weird that had infected the base affect him, he headed into the kitchen for his mid-morning-pre-elevenses snack. But as he reached out to open the refrigerator, he noticed his hand. His tiny, childlike hand.As he looked down at himself he was shocked see that all of him seemed to have shrunk. A quick glance around showed he was about half his size. Still proportionate to his previous size, just smaller.“What the actual fuck?”At that moment Darcy returned with Bucky, Sam and Bruce in tow. They both stopped short (ha, short) at the sight of a pint-sized Steve Rogers.“You weren’t kidding about weird shit happening, doll. Hey Bruce! Do you think his strength is proportional to his height?”Bruce looked from Bucky to Steve to Darcy and back to Steve before removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “There is not enough tea in the world to deal with this ridiculousness. I’m gonna go meditate.” And with that he turned on his heel and left for the quiet sanctuary of the conservatory.Steve opened his mouth and in his patented ‘Captain America is disappointed in you’ voice, “Gee thanks, Buck. Good to know you care. Jerk .”Bucky, Sam and Darcy did a blinking double take at the deep voice coming out of teeny-tiny Steve Rogers. They turned to look at each other before bursting out into gut-clutching laughter.Darcy turned to Steve and said, “Oh, come here! I just wanna cuddle the shit out of you! You’re even more adorable like this!” She reached towards him with grabby-hands and he was so surprised by the ‘adorable’ comment that he was a moment too late to escape her clutches. And then he realized where his face ended up at this height. He was in danger of being suffocated by the most exquisite set of breasts he’d ever seen.The sight of Steve blissfully buried in Darcy’s chest caused Bucky to shake his head and smirk at his best friend. What a way to go.“Darcy, honey, you’re gonna need to let our Steven out of the warmth of your embrace before he asphyxiates. Needless to say, I definitely believe you about the leprechaun causing mischief.”“Oh! Sorry Steve,” she said as she released the vertically challenged superhero.“You know...you said it was a leprechaun, didn’t you Lewis?” Sam wondered. “It was a leprechaun and don’t give me that you need therapy, I know a guy look. You know one guy, and I’m not talking to your boy Shawn that you went to high school with about my feelings,” Darcy snapped at him. “There is a little leprechaun-y bastard running around here fucking my day up!”“Well, I mean, look at Steve,” Sam said thoughtfully.“Don’t you dare suggest it,” Steve warned.“He’s small. He’s Irish. He’s ornery as fuck,” Sam smirked.“I hate to agree with Wilson about—well, about anything,” Bucky nodded. “But little Stevie O’Rogers here certainly fits the leprechaun bill.”“You sons of bitches! I’m not a leprechaun, I’m just—smaller than normal!” Steve shouted, pointing his miniature finger at his best friends. “Don’t embarrass me in front of Darcy!”“Pal, you’re three feet tall,” Bucky laughed. “We don’t have to do the embarrassing.”“That’s it!” Steve growled.“This would be a lot more fun if his voice was high pitched,” Sam muttered in an aside to Bucky, who snorted with laughter.“Aaaugugggggh!” Steve shouted before he attacked.Darcy wisely stepped back and watched as Steve Rogers, the three foot tall version of him anyway, attacked his best friends, tackling Sam into Bucky, and bringing the both of them down to the ground. It said something about either Steve’s tenacity when incredibly upset, or Sam and Bucky’s combined ineptitude that a miniature Steve was dominating the both of them. He was a blur of tiny fists, kicking feet and a handful of really vicious head butts to the groin areas and Sam and Bucky could do little else but continue to laugh and occasionally gasp out in sudden pain.“SERIOUSLY?” Darcy demanded angrily. “There are bigger problems here than Steve practicing for little people wrestling!”The men didn’t seem to care, and Darcy felt she didn’t have the time to waste watching anymore. So she simply snapped a few pictures very quickly before shoving her phone back into her bra and stomping from the room, intent on finding that damned leprechaun.“You assholes,” Steve growled as she went for the door. “I told you not to embarrass me in front of Darcy—you know how I feel about her!”“Wait, what in the who and the how?” Darcy demanded from the door.“Nothing, what? Nothing,” tiny Steve blurted quickly, realizing that Darcy actually hadn’t left the room yet. Bucky took that moment to playfully slap at Steve’s tiny face. And Steve renewed his attacks on his best friends, rolling the three of them into more furniture. Darcy rolled her eyes and was about to start in on boys being absolute morons when she saw that flash of emerald green out of the corner of her eye.“HEY! Make Steve normal again!” she shouted, running out of the room and down the hallway. “Get back here you orange-bearded little shit!” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter Two As she chased after the disappearing flash of green, Darcy didn't realise that the scenery had changed until she suddenly found herself teetering on the edge of a cliff. “What the fuck?” she gasped out as a hand grabbed at her elbow just as she was about to fall off the edge. “Careful there,” a voice said from behind her. “That's a long way down.” She looked behind her to see Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson standing behind her. It was Bucky who had hold of her arm, which she now noticed was covered in one of the gauziest, flimsiest fabrics she'd ever seen. A second glance showed that she was wearing about fifty metres of floaty gauze in the form of of a long dress with long sleeves and one of those pointy hats with a long hat train. The dress had a train too, as did the sleeves, and… she twisted, trying to see the back of the dress. Was that a cape draping from her shoulders?? “What the fuck?” As she turned she almost tripped over the cape’s train, and it was only a swift reaction from the two men that prevented her from tail diving off the cliff. “Are you okay there, Darce?” Sam asked. “Um, yeah I'm fine. Thanks for the save, dude. Um, where am I?” Sam and Bucky exchanged a worried glance. “You just ran away from the wedding,” Bucky said, “yelling something about how there's no way anyone can make you go through this and that you'll get your sweet, sweet revenge if it's the last thing you do.” “WHAT? My wedding??? Wearing this ?” Darcy was about ready to completely lose it when she realised they were both chuckling. “No, not your wedding, which is why everyone was so confused. You're one of the guests,” Sam assured her. “Oh thank Thor for that,” Darcy sighed.“For a minute there I was worried. Hang on—sweet sweet revenge for what?” The two men looked at each other and shrugged. “No idea, Doll.” “Well damn,” Darcy said, taking another look around, realising she was still at the very edge of the cliff and taking a couple of certain careful steps backward. She almost tripped… again. This time it was Sam who caught hold of her, saving her from falling face first into a flowery bush. “So are you ready to go back?” he asked her as she tried to untangle herself from the copious metres and metres of chiffony floatiness… was that even a word? “Um, yeah I suppose so. Um… which way?” she asked as she realised that there was cliff on one side of her and thick forest on the other. “How did I ever get up here?” she wondered out loud. “We flew!” Sam declared with a huge smile. Darcy blinked as her.mouth dropped open... “Flew?” she echoed. “That's right, Doll, just spread your wings and you can glide right back down,” Bucky said as a pair of glossy black angel wings spread out from his back. “Holy hell,” Darcy murmured as she reached out with one hand, stopping just short of touching them. “Where'd you get those from? They're gorgeous!” Bucky beamed. There was a rustling noise behind her and as she turned, Sam spread his own wings, which were an incredible mix of autumn reds and oranges. “Ohmigod....” Darcy breathed. “Your turn,” Bucky said as he and Sam grasped her elbows and escorted her back to the edge of the cliff. “What? NO! I don't have wings!” Darcy tried to pull away, but they had solid grips on her arms and she couldn't break free. “You ready?” Sam asked. “No! I can't fly!” She shrieked, struggling to free herself. “Let me go!” “Don't be silly, Darce, of course you can fly,” Sam assured her. “Just spread those gorgeous wings of yours, and jump, Doll.” Bucky agreed. “But I don't have—” Darcy stopped in stunned silence as the gauzy substance she'd thought was her dress rose up of its own accord and became a set of shimmery, sparkly fairy-style wings. “Ohhhh…” she couldn't help giving them a flutter as she spun around trying to get a better look at them. “These are amazing!” “Come on then, let's go,” Sam said as he stepped off the cliff. She stepped off after him, Bucky beside her, all three of them gliding smoothly down towards the ground. As she looked over at Bucky, there was a shimmer of green at the edge of her vision, and she spun to look at it. Dancing in the air several metres away from the edge of the cliff was the leprechaun. “Why, you little shit!” she screeched, and launched herself after him, not noticing that the ground was getting closer and closer and closer... When she opened her eyes again, it was to the sound of raucous applause. She looked around and saw that she was standing in front of a live studio audience, and they were apparently very happy with her at the moment. She looked down and saw that she was dressed in a very risque, old fashioned burlesque outfit. Her breasts were crammed right up underneath her chin. “Darcy, did you hear me?” Steve wondered. “What in the huh now?” Darcy blinked up at Steve, who was dressed in an almost cartoonish version of his Captain America outfit. It was brighter than a cartoon, actually, and it seemed to be fitted more for the visual than the functional. She felt her eyes going wide at the way the tights clung to every muscle in his very well-muscled thighs. The audience laughed at her very understandable reaction. She glared at them and they laughed some more. “Sweetheart,” Steve waved a hand in front of her face. “Whoheart?” Darcy muttered, looking up at him and the audience’s laughter didn’t feel so bad this time, because he was looking at her like she hung the moon. “Would you like to go grab a coffee with me?” Steve wondered. The audience let out a loud “ Ohhhhhhhh ’ sound and Darcy turned away from Steve to glare at them once more. “What in the Saved By the Bell tomfoolery is going on here?” Darcy whispered. “I’m sorry if I misread—I...well I’ve been thinking about this for some, well for some time now,” Steve stammered adorably. The audience ‘ awwwwww’d ’ appropriately. “No,” Darcy shook her head. Steve looked crestfallen and the audience gasped in shock. Darcy’s eyes bugged out of her head cartoonishly and she waved her hands in front of her quickly. “NO, I didn’t mean no to coffee. Yes to coffee, I love coffee and I really like you,” Darcy said quickly. “You do—” Steve’s hopeful line was cut off and he seemed put off by it, obviously not used to being cut of in this setting, but Darcy reached up and slapped her hand over his mouth. “This isn’t real. This is a fucked up dream of some kind brought about by a rogue leprechaun. So, if this is just the leprechaun messing with me? I will murder his tiny green bedecked ass. But if this is based in even a tiny bit of reality, when I finally wake up and get this done and over with, I’m totally taking you out for the best coffee in town, understand?” Steve managed to nod under her incredibly strong grip and Darcy managed to smile in relief. The audience was booing though, and Darcy didn’t understand why. If this was the kind of sitcom she thought it was, then this kind of situation should have been having them on the edge of their seats. Darcy looked up and saw a flash of green hanging from one of the bright, insufferably hot, studio lights and she opened her mouth to swear, only to hear the censor’s bleeping sound before the light came flying down towards her head. “Bleeeeeeeeeep.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter Three Darcy felt the soft press of warm lips against hers in the darkness as strong hands drifted over her skin, seeking out her curves insatiably. This was more like it. The bullshit with that ridiculous leprechaun was over and she was back to her regular scheduled programming... Mr. Mysterious Beefcake kissed her harder as a gentle rushing filled her ears and the cool smooth kiss of metal caressed her bare skin. Her fingertips traced over the ridges of the perfectly sculpted body on top of hers and her lips turned up into wicked grin at the discovery that he was just as naked as he was beefy. She heard the soft tinkle of metal against metal as the lips pressed to hers curled up to match. Wait a second, where was she?! Who was she kissing?! What was that noise?! And where were her clothes?! A single match struck the rough stone, filling the cavern in a warm glow as the leprechaun brought the flickering flame to the pipe clenched tightly between his teeth. He drew in short breaths until the bowl filled with an amber glow and a veil of fragrant smoke surrounded him. Before the match went out, he deftly lit a tiny lantern hanging from a low spot on the wall and the thick blanket of gold coins on the ground shimmered like a desert mirage. "Much, much better," Steve sighed, gazing down at her with a dreamy smile that made her insides melty. The leprechaun unscrewed the knot at the end of his shillelagh and took a swig from the flask concealed inside as Darcy surreptitiously watched over the edge of Steve's broad shoulder. Her eyes returned to his as he tenderly brushed her hair back from her face and she battled the overwhelming urge to go right back to kissing him, even though it was doubtlessly all part of the leprechaun's nefarious plan. Exactly what the fuck was he up to anyhow?! The coins beneath her smoothly shifted as Steve's lips sought hers and the leprechaun's wild laughter echoed against the walls. She reached up, pulling Steve closer and rolled her hips against him out of spite, suddenly unwilling to let the snickering spectator rain all over her smoking hot, sexy parade. Steve hummed a rich approval, swirling his tongue over hers and her hips bucked up towards him as the steady dull throbbing deep inside of her pulsed intensely. His hand reached between her legs and his fingers gently slipped between her silky folds, spreading the wetness they found there. She gasped soft curses against his lips as the leprechaun puffed away on his pipe and loosened the buckle at the front of his pants. "So wet already," Steve breathed, rubbing her clit in tight circles. Darcy writhed against the coins and called out for more, watching over Steve's shoulder as the leprechaun's trousers dropped to his ankles and he began to slowly stroke himself off. Every inch of her thrummed with unexpected arousal as the strange wee man looked on and she discovered to her surprise how much she liked the way he was looking at her while he touched himself and how much she wanted him to keep watching as he got himself off. Steve's arms wrapped around her as he suddenly rolled them over, amid a whirl of glittering gold and she landed on top of him with a gasp. She bit into her lip, hardly able to breathe as he raised his hand and slid his slick fingers into his mouth. His lashes fluttered shut and he hummed sublimely, delighting in the taste of her as he slowly sucked them clean. He withdrew them from between his lips with a wet pop that was so perfectly filthy that she thought she might lose her goddamned mind. Darcy wasted no time pressing her lips to his and his eyes flew open as she sucked his tongue, drawing out a soft noise of surprise. "You taste so goddamned good," Steve purred, between kisses. "How 'bout we put on a little show for your friend over there?" "Ooh. Kinky," Darcy teased with a wicked grin. "What've you got in mind?" Steve's large hands wrapped around her hips, lifting her into the air and turning her effortlessly. She discovered the leprechaun standing entranced, puffing away on his pipe furiously as he took in every inch of her exposed curves. Steve set her down with her knees above his shoulders and they slid against the coins as she struggled to gain a foothold. She toppled forwards unsteadily, bracing herself with her palms against his thighs, suddenly getting a crash course in super soldier arousal as she wound up inches from the glistening tip of the spear. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips as she took in every rigid inch and slowly glanced up towards the leprechaun, meeting his verdant gaze. "Begorrah, what a ride!" he marvelled as a thick cloud of smoke encircled his head. "I've had a glad eye for you since we met. Do you mind me gawking?" She gently nodded her head from side-to-side and wrapped her hand around the base of Steve's cock. "Bang on! It's nothing to get scundered about," the leprechaun continued. "A wee bit o' Aer Lingus is always deadly craic." "I don't know what the fuck you're babbling about," she said with a grin, "but I'm still gonna catch your enchanted ass." "Lookin' foward to it," he quipped, puffing on his pipe with a wry smile. Steve's hands suddenly tightened around her hips and he pulled her down against his face with an impatient growl. She sputtered out a colourful burst of profanity as her knees sank into the golden carpet of coins, sending them scattering and Steve's tongue traced over her slick skin in a long, firm lick. Before she could recover, he did it again and then once more for good measure. She collapsed into a boneless heap against him, moaning incomprehensibly as he added some suction and the tip of his tongue glided over her as smoothly as cursive. "Now, that's what I call kissin' the Blarney Stone," the leprechaun observed with a wink. Darcy took in a breath, opening her mouth to respond as Steve's hand settled at the back of her head. Even though he was gentle, it was hardly gentlemanly. Something about the virtuous hero behaving badly seemed to flip every last one of her switches. She wet her lips, pushing back against his hand as she ran her tongue up and down his rigid length and swirled it over the tip. He gasped distorted curses against her slick skin as she slid him between her plush lips. She continued to fight back against the weight of his hand, grinding herself against his face shamelessly as she hollowed out her cheeks and slowly worked him in and out of her mouth. Her eyes met the leprechaun's as she drew back, giving Steve several solid pumps of her fist as her tongue flickered over his sensitive skin, making him see stars. She wet her lips and let go, relaxing completely beneath the press of Steve's hand and choked down every throbbing inch he had to offer. He let out a muffled groan as she backed up slightly, taking in a breath before diving in for more. She thrilled at the feeling of the leprechaun's eyes on her skin and the slight trembling in Steve's leg up against her palm. Her breathing stuttered as he sucked harder and the sensation of his mouth devouring her nearly threatened to overwhelm her completely. She let Steve take over, humming obscenely as he guided her movements, rocking her against his face with his hand at her hip and fucking her face with his fist in her hair. Her nails bit into Steve's skin as she squeezed his thigh, desperate for him to keep going as every part of her throbbed, demanding release. Each thrust into her mouth grew rougher and she couldn't seem to get enough as the cavern filled with the coarse wet sound of Steve's cock plundering her mouth and her distorted pleas for more. She glanced up towards the leprechaun, flushing with arousal as she watched him continue to stroke himself off. Each pull wound her up tighter as the faint taste of Steve's excitement hit the back of her tongue and the rushing of her pulse filled her ears. The leprechaun caught her looking and his lips curled into a sinister smile as she wondered which of them was going to come first in the filthy race to the finish. "Awful close now, aren't you?" he asked quietly. "I wonder... Should I let you come?" Darcy's brows furrowed in confusion as Steve's fingers twisted in her hair and the burning in her scalp left her breathless. "I was hoping you'd ask nicely," the leprechaun continued, "but I'll settle for begging." She struggled to focus on his words as her pulse raced and the firm press of Steve's tongue drove her all the way to the edge but she was so close to completion that she couldn't seem to think straight. His emerald eyes glittered with mischief as she dangled over the edge, suddenly tumbling face-first into the treasure blanketing the ground as Steve disappeared in a puff of green smoke. The leprechaun's laughter echoed cruelly as she floundered in the pile of coins, grumbling curses under her breath. Her hand instinctively moved to the urgent throbbing between her legs as she ached for release and the bowl of the leprechaun's pipe glowed warmly as he stood looking on. "Not so fast," he said, blowing out four perfect rings of smoke that slowly drifted through the air towards her. "In case you'd forgotten, I'm calling the shots around here." The rings tightened around her wrists and her ankles, spreading her apart as she struggled uselessly. "As much as I'd like to watch you get off, you'll still have to ask me for the privilege." Her blood ran cold with panic as the magical restraints lifted her into the air, leaving her entirely at his mercy. "Let me go," she spat as she continued to struggle. "Is that really what you want?" he asked with a flick of his brow. "Seemed to me like you were having a grand time with that soldier I conjured for you." Steve suddenly reappeared to her left and a second Steve appeared to her right. "All you have to do is ask and I can make all of your wildest dreams come true." Darcy's eyes darted back and forth between the soldiers as they advanced from either side, gazing at her hungrily. Strong arms wrapped around her waist as a third appeared behind her and she shivered as he nuzzled the soft spot behind her ear. "What's the hold up?" he whispered enticingly as the soldiers at either side of her peppered her skin in a flurry of kisses. "Ask him already. We're just dying to make you feel good, sweetheart." "Please," Darcy gasped as the Steve behind her palmed her breast and pressed his mouth against the side of her neck. "Please make them fuck me and watch while they get me off." "Not bad," the leprechaun replied with a smirk, "but I'll bet you can do better than that." The coins beneath him clattered as the Steve to her right dropped to his knees and Darcy cried out panicked curses as the smoky restraints around her ankles settled her legs over his shoulders. He looked up at her through his thick lashes and pressed his lips against the inside of her thigh, kissing her sensuously as the jingle of the coins behind her, left her wondering what the leprechaun had planned for her next. The wispy bonds around her wrists tightened, slowly drawing her arms into the air above her head and pinning them just a little too high to be comfortable. Even sitting up as straight as possible wasn't enough to ease the strain. The Steve to her left reached out, cupping her breast and gently drew his thumb across the rosy bud of her nipple. She let out an unsteady breath as his tender caress and the steady pull of his sinful mouth against the inside of her thigh transformed the burning in her arms into something sublime. The muscles in Steve's jaw twitched as he rolled her nipple between his fingers so hard that she flinched, wrenching her arms against the smoky restraints. A jolt of pain shot straight through her, electrifying every part of her body. "So goddamned pretty," he breathed in her ear, loosening his grip and lightly brushing his thumb over the flushed peak of her breast. "So fucking sexy." He rolled her nipple again, harder this time as the Steve between her legs smoothly plunged his fingers into her tight heat and turned his face towards her, burying it in her slickness. She took in a slow breath, resisting the urge to cry out and a second set of hands grasped the cheeks of her ass, spreading her apart as two tongues eagerly lit into her from opposite sides. Darcy spouted a litany of nonsensical profanity, writhing sandwiched between the men's faces and her muscles pulsed around Steve's fingers as the men worked her over mercilessly. The Steve standing to her left steadied her, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck as he continued to toy with her breast, alternating between gentle strokes of his thumb and firm pinches between his fingers. Her eyes met the cool blue gaze of the Steve with his face buried between her thighs as he beckoned her to come unglued with lazy curls of his fingers that hit her in all the right places. The tip of his tongue glided over her clit at superhuman speed, winding her up in delicious torment as he looked up at her like she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. His left hand slowly outlined the edge of her thigh as his palm slid smoothly over her skin and her stomach fluttered wildly as each upwards stroke ended with a firm, possessive squeeze. Whatever the Steve behind her was up to, it felt fucking phenomenal. Her initial reservations melted away as his large hands gently kneaded her cheeks and he pressed delicate kisses against her sensitive skin, outlining the puckered perimeter with the tip of his tongue. He lavished her in slick warmth, softly sucking with each kiss and drew back slightly, pursing his lips and lightly blowing against her glistening skin, making her tremble with delight. The three men surrounding her rumbled a chorus of approval that made her breath catch in her chest and her mind began to race with thoughts of the press of their solid bodies against hers as they filled her to the brim with every throbbing inch they had to offer. She winced, slick muscles clenching Steve's fingers as a sharp tweak of her nipple refocused her attention, providing the sudden clarity the way pain does best. Steve peered up at her through his thick lashes, slowing his movements and watching carefully as she took in a fortifying breath. The hand at the back of her neck gave a gentle squeeze and the Steve behind her hummed appreciatively as he patiently worked his tongue into her ass. She slowly opened up to him, moaning shamelessly as the vibration echoed through every part of her body and Steve looked on, sweeping his fingers against an especially receptive spot deep inside of her as he adeptly sucked her clit. A hot puff of Steve's breath against the shell of her ear wound the tension building inside of her tighter as he whispered to her, asking whether she liked the filthy things they were doing to her. "Uh huh," she gasped as Steve pointed his tongue, dipping into her ass with staccato thrusts that left her muscles twitching each time he withdrew. The smoky shackles around her wrists raised her arms a fraction of an inch higher and her eyes met the leprechaun's as a ragged groan escaped her lips. "Oh no!" he teased with a wicked grin. "Had enough already? I guess I should tell them to stop—" "No, please," she interrupted desperately. "Please. Please don't stop. I'm... so close." The men surrounding her froze in place and she growled in frustration, struggling against her restraints as the leprechaun laughed in her face. "What do you want from me?" she demanded hotly. He replied with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows that gave her douche chills. "Why don't you just whip up a little something like this for yourself?" she asked, nodding towards one of the duplicates with a frown. "I would, if I could but I can't," he sighed, taking a pull on his pipe. "Even if I wanted you to?" she asked, wetting her lips seductively. "I mean, if it gets this train back on the rails... I really, really want you to." The leprechaun choked on his pipe and it vanished into thin air as he coughed and cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. She wrestled with the twitching corners of her lips, fighting back a smirk as she delighted in his discomfort and considered the fact that she might actually manage to catch him if a conjured duplicate could keep him distracted long enough. The smoky rings around her wrists and ankles would definitely have to go. The leprechaun reached for his shillelagh and unscrewed the knot at the end, drinking deeply from the flask inside. "Since I'm doing you a solid here, do you think we can lose the restraints?" she asked casually, trying to conceal any hint of her actual motive. "My arms are killing me, dude." The smoky rings suddenly disappeared and her arms fell to heavily to her sides as Darcy watched a perfect likeness of herself materialize in front of the leprechaun. Her double waited obediently for him on her hands and knees, dressed in a lacy green bra with matching garters and stockings. Even once the tongues surrounding her started moving again, she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from the leprechaun as he approached her twin and slowly ran his hands over her green fishnets. He clicked his heels together and the mound of coins beneath his feet began to grow until his hips lined up perfectly with the woman kneeling in front of him. Things got awfully surreal as Darcy met her duplicate’s gaze and lost herself in her own blue eyes. The hot, hungry mouths pressed against her feasted on her insatiably as the leprechaun seized her double by the hips, seating himself inside of her with a single solid thrust. He looked up at Darcy, licking his lips as they curled into a filthy grin and the woman on all fours cried out, scraping her fingers over the coins littering the floor as he drove himself into her with sharp snaps of his hips. "Holy shit," Darcy gasped as the Steve to her left pinched her nipple and she flushed with strange and unexpected arousal at the sight of the leprechaun fucking her savagely. "Oh, you lads need to get a taste of this," the leprechaun groaned. The Steve to her left, directed her face towards her own with the hand at the back of her neck and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her so deeply that she felt it right down in the tips of her curled toes. She looked at him in a daze as he broke away with a dreamy smile and turned towards the leprechaun. Darcy's eyes followed his perfectly-sculpted ass as he approached her duplicate, coming to a stop just to her right and reached down, helping himself to a fistful of her chestnut curls. She glanced down at the Steve between her legs in confusion as he suddenly withdrew his fingers from her and the man behind her leaned back, playfully biting the right cheek of her ass. Her arms reached out wildly for something to hold onto as the men surrounding her rose to their feet, lifting her into the air along with them. Steve's slick lips found hers as he wrapped her legs around his waist and she got lost in the lingering taste of herself on his tongue as she watched her duplicate gag on the cock being thrust into her mouth. "Are you ready for us, sweetheart?" the Steve behind her breathed into her ear, revealing the full extent of his arousal as he leaned into her. She moaned into Steve's mouth, slipping her hand between them and he moaned right back as she grasped him and gave him a solid stroke. Sharp teeth nipped the edge of her ear as she directed the smooth head of Steve's cock to the place she was craving him most and slick fingers worked their way into her ass, coating it with lubricant. "Tell us what you want," they demanded in unison, soft lips ghosting over the side of her neck and hovering just shy of hers as Steve sank into her a fraction of an inch. Her legs tightened around his waist as she ached to feel the rest of him inside of her. Two strong right hands grasped her hips, holding her firmly in place as the men surrounding her repeated, "Tell us what you want, Darcy." She bit back a gasp, flooding with a hot rush of excitement and took in a fortifying breath, working her way back up to speech. Soft moans and the sound of wet flesh colliding drifted through the air from the other side of the cavern and Darcy squirmed uselessly against the hands holding her in place as her muscles pulsed impatiently. "I want you," she ground out as Steve reached deeper and the hot stretch of his fingers made her head swim. "I want you both inside of me..." Her confession was immediately met with a solid thrust of Steve's hips as he drove himself into her quivering heat, forcing out a breathy cry of his name. He smothered it, covering her lips with his own as the Steve behind her gingerly removed his fingers from her ass, whispering to her, "Both of us at once, huh? Is that all? Tell us the rest, sweetheart." Her arms tightened behind Steve's neck as she kissed him harder, swelling with sheer delight each time he thrust into her. He filled her so perfectly that she began to panic as the end of a second cock pressed up against her ass and the reality of taking them on at once left her reeling. She caught the leprechaun watching from the corner of her eye, leering lecherously as he got off on the look of alarm on her face. It filled her with a strange mixture of revulsion and arousal that made her stomach lurch as the tension building inside of her wound tighter. She tore her lips from Steve's, grimacing and swallowing thickly as a hot puff of breath hit the soft spot behind her ear. "You want him to keep watching, don't you?" The leprechaun looked on expectantly as she struggled to respond, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. Steve leaned in closer, playfully nudging the side of her neck in an attempt to coax a response out of her as he slowly breathed her in. "Yeah," she croaked reluctantly. "I do." The leprechaun winked at her and she shuddered as Steve pressed himself against her ass, letting her warmth gradually consume him. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" he teased as the steadily building pressure of his cock inside her ass threatened to overwhelm her completely. "Just relax, sweetheart. We're gonna make this so good for you." Steve's hands squeezed her thighs and he bit into his lower lip, stifling a groan, twitching inside of her as she tightened around him. She gasped soft curses, seeking out his lips as the Steve behind her worked himself into her the rest of the way. Before she had time to adjust to the feeling of both of them inside of her, they began thrusting in and out of her in perfect synchronicity. She clung to Steve, moaning into his mouth as the men greedily claimed every inch of her. All she could do was hang on for dear life as they drove themselves into her, leaving her breathless with each alternating stroke. After all the false starts, Darcy was ragged at the edges and aching for relief as she quickly felt herself hurtling towards the verge of completion. She writhed between the two rock solid bodies pressed up against her, delighting in a feeling of fullness that exceeded her wildest expectations as Steve whispered in her ear, telling her how good she felt and how much he wanted to feel her come unglued as he buried himself inside of her. The rushing of her pulse filled her ears so loudly that she couldn't seem to think straight, so she gave up trying and focused what effort she could muster into holding on to the moment for as long as she could. The men continued thrusting themselves into her relentlessly, grunting and growling as she felt her grip begin to slip. "Oh, fuck, please," she gasped desperately against Steve's soft lips. "Please, don't stop. It's so good." "You're awful close now," Steve breathed in her ear, sliding his hand over the front of her body and palming her breast. "We can feel it... the way you're fighting to hold on and make this last." Darcy responded with a low moan as she looked at the leprechaun and admitted to herself that she didn't even care if she caught him anymore. All she wanted was more of what the men pressed up against her were dishing out and for him to keep watching her take it. The change in her expression was just enough to push the leprechaun over the edge and he spilled over inside her duplicate, grinding out a litany of curses as Darcy looked on. Her double came right after, moaning blissfully around Steve's cock until he was shuddering too. The muscles in his back and his thighs and his perfectly-sculpted ass strained and his fingers tightened in her duplicate's hair as she swallowed down his hot rush and the leprechaun lost himself in the feeling of her slick warmth fluttering around him. "You like watching yourself take it like that?" Steve asked softly as her fingers scrabbled against the edge and she fought to hold on. "You oughta see what we're doing to you, sweetheart. I guarantee it's even better." She blinked and two conjured copies of Steve appeared to her right with a Darcy sandwiched between them, groaning and writhing together nearly the same way she was moving between the men fucking her senseless. Another trio appeared to her left, Steve on his back, her duplicate riding him in reverse and moaning shamelessly as a second Steve sucked her clit and stroked himself off. The throbbing inside Darcy reached a fever pitch as the room gradually filled with duplicates - the coarse wet noise of them thrusting into each other, waves of soft curves colliding with rippling muscle, an erotic symphony of moans and groans and breathy cries for more. She lost sight of the leprechaun as heaving, sweaty, naked bodies continued to appear all around her, unidentified hands and lips reaching out hungrily for every bare inch of her skin, undulating against her as her breathing grew ragged. "Let go," Steve whispered to her, tugging her earlobe between his teeth as he buried himself in her ass. "Let go," Steve growled against her lips, his fingers digging into her soft thighs as he thrust into her with sharp snaps of her hips. The cavern filled with a chorus of softly murmured requests for her surrender and she could feel the leprechaun watching as she took in a sharp breath, climaxing exquisitely along with every other body in the cavern. She flooded with white hot euphoria and powerful rushing pulses of release as the men unloaded inside of her and blissful cries of her name echoed against the walls. The sea of bodies surrounding her shuddered, rocking up against each other as they all got off together and soft lips peppered her skin with kisses making her skin tingle deliciously. Steve kissed her deeply, holding her closer and groaned softly with each sharp pulse of her slick muscles around him. The Steve behind her rasped his teeth against her skin as he delighted in the feeling of her wringing him out. Darcy lost herself in a feeling of absolute satisfaction and for just a brief moment she could have sworn that she caught a hold of the smirking leprechaun as everything suddenly faded to black. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Darcy’s eyes popped open and she sat up from where her head was resting on her arms. She was sitting at her desk in the lab, and from the sight of a green square covering 60% of her view, she had a post it stuck to her forehead. Had she fallen asleep? Had all the weirdness just been a dream? Head spinning, and feeling largely disoriented and confused, she pushed back her chair and stood up, squawking rather intelligently when the leather of her comfy rolling chair tried to stick to the skin of her thighs. Her very naked thighs. Curling her bare toes against the chilly linoleum, Darcy realized she was completely nude. “Oh, for the love of Loki!” She cursed as she covered her breasts with her hands. “What is—” Her words cut off with a screech as Jane came striding into the lab. Darcy grabbed the first thing she could find, a large binder filled with scientific readings, and held it over her girly bits. As she tried to quickly come up with either a) an escape plan or b) a reasonable explanation, Darcy realized that her boss was also extremely naked and all planning and reasoning came to a halt. “Oh, hey, Darcy, are those the spectrograph printouts I was looking for?” Jane asked as she strode over and plucked the binder from Darcy’s death grip and flipped it open for examination. “Yes, here they are. Thanks!’’ As she spun, turning her perky little butt in Darcy’s direction, the intern couldn’t help but gasp in shock at the betrayal and confusion. That binder was the only thing in sight that was both large enough to cover most of her parts and light enough for her lift. “Jane!” She hissed, reaching out grabby hands towards her boss. “Huh?” Jane asked absently as she turned back. “Oh, right. Sorry,” she apologized sheepishly as she walked back to Darcy. Darcy’s relief that logic and sanity would be returning to her world was short lived, however. Instead of returning the binder, Jane leaned in close and kissed Darcy deeply. Her lips were soft and slightly chapped, but Darcy was too shocked to appreciate her boss’ technique. She loved her boss, but she didn’t really love her boss. Jane pulled away with a smile and then turned to leave again. “But what about Thor?” Darcy blurted, still stunned by the casual way her friend and employer had laid one on her. Darcy thought she shipped Jane and Thor even more than Jane and Thor did sometimes. She’d be devastated if the two of them ever broke up. Especially if she was the reason… “Oh, he’s here somewhere. He was talking shop with Tony and Steve last I saw—oh, here he is. Hey, babe,” she greeted with a grin as Thor, also naked as a jay bird, stepped through the door. “I heard my name. Did you summon me?” He queried as he leaned down to give Jane his typical hello smooch. Jane kissed the giant blond back and then motioned to Darcy. “Darcy was looking for you, I think?” She supplied casually as she went back to looking through the binder in her hand. “Ah, fairest Darcy!” The looming Æsir declared as he swooped in and gave her a kiss, very much like the one he’d just bestowed on his beloved. “How may I serve you, my lady?” “Uh, uh—” Darcy meeped, her brain imploding. Luckily, she was saved from having to come up with an answer as Tony and Steve interrupted the moment, with their bickering as they followed Thor into the lab. Neither of them was wearing a stitch. “He’s only 17, Tony. Don't you think think that’s a little too young to be attending one of your parties? You know how out of control things can get? Oh, hey Jane.” Steve’s glare turned soft as he noticed the petite astrophysicist walking past. “Hey, Steve,” Jane returned, popping up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Tony,” she added, turning and giving just as good to the billionaire, playboy, genius, philanthropist. Tony’s hands cupped briefly along Jane’s side as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. “Hey, Foster. How’s the new spectrograph working out?” He inquired casually as he rubbed his thumbs along the bottom of her small breasts. Darcy glanced between them and Thor, who just stood, looking on happily. This was just so... “I’m going over the readings now. I think it might need some slight calibration, but I’ll let you know,” Dr. Foster replied, business as usual as she slipped from Stark’s grasp and walked over to sit at her desk and continue working. “You do that,” Tony said, then turned back to his argument with Steve. “I’m well aware of Parker’s age, Rogers. That’s why I invited his aunt May to come as chaperone. If things start getting out of hand, she’ll be there to sweep young Peter away from the debauchery and depravity.” “Is this the Aunt May you mentioned asking to dinner last week?” Steve asked suspiciously as they continued deeper into the lab, both of them pausing briefly to share a friendly (and smoking hot) lip lock with the mighty Thor. “Oh, well, I still maintain she’s too young to be an aunt,” Tony hedged, but the mischievous tilt to his goatee told them all they needed to know. Darcy gasped as Tony pulled her into his arms and kissed the living day lights out of her, his tongue doing a little dance over her lips that had her gripping his shoulders to keep from melting at his feet. Meanwhile, Steve chatted on, as if Tony wasn’t pressed up against her, doing things with his tongue that should be totally illegal. “So how’s she gonna be able to whisk her nephew away if she’s busy being debauched by your depravity?” “Hey!” Tony objected, pulling away and leaning Darcy back against her desk, as if he knew she would need the extra support. “I resemble that remark! Hey, Boobs McGee, tell Steve-o here that he’s being ridiculous and overly suspicious for absolutely no reason.” He squeezed her hip and stepped back to let Steve have his turn, apparently. “Hey, Darce,” Steve smiled crookedly as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him till her breasts were squashed pleasantly against his firm but supple chest. “Hey, Steve,” she squeaked and then he was lowering his head and she could only cling to his biceps as his mouth melted down on hers. This time, she had to admit, she was more than ready to kiss back. Steve was gorgeous and kind and so full of integrity that he was near bursting with it, and she’d be lying if she said he hadn’t featured in more than one of her me-time fantasies. His lips were the softest, by far, and he had no facial hair like Tony or Thor to tease againer her face, but he kissed her like she was life-giving oxygen and cool spring water, and the sweetest, most decadent dessert all tied into one. Instinctually, she might have let one of her legs drift up the outside of his thigh so she could rock her hips against him and get some friction against her soft and throbbing places. “That’s not helping, Lewis,” Tony murmured to her right, but she couldn’t be bothered. “On second thought, that’s not a bad distraction…” Steve jerked back, leaving Darcy a gaping, breathless mess and turned to wrap his arm across the front of Tony’s bare stomach to stop him from fleeing. “This conversation isn’t over yet, Tony,” Steve growled, and enough of his torso was still pressed tight to hers that she felt the vibration of it along her skin. With a whimper, Darcy let her forehead rest against the top of Steve’s shoulder. What the ever living fuck was going on!? Her head was spinning from lack of oxygen and confusion and she felt near to fainting, though she was having trouble complaining about her circumstances. Her thoughts shattered as a voice called from the door that had the shivers running up her spine. “Hey, have you guys seen Stark? He’s supposed to upgrade my arm today. Oh, there you are,” Bucky Barnes said triumphantly. Darcy peered around Steve to see a gloriously naked Sergeant Barnes lean around the door jam and call down the hall. “I found him, Sam, he’s in Foster’s lab.” Steve turned slightly in her arms as the Winter Soldier and the Falcon, (and his two best friends), joined them. Watching in wide-eyed anticipation, Darcy beheld the two of them starting to make their rounds around the room. As was obviously the custom in this messed up, sexually charged version of reality, each of them swapped saliva with the occupants of the room in greeting. Seeing Bucky dwarf Jane as he picked her up and curled down over her was every bit as enticing as seeing Thor do the same to him, their naked, manly bodies pressed knee to nipple in salutation. Sam’s greeting kiss to Tony was very chaste and polite, though he grinned and laughed when Thor rubbed his beard against Sam’s comparatively meager facial hair, and he was still smiling when he cupped Jane’s jaw and kissed her, soft and sweet. She was so caught up watching them, that she almost missed the nearly violent oral collision that was Bucky and Tony. Darcy nearly burst out laughing when the words “battling for dominance” popped into her head, but she managed to stifle it against Steve’s shoulder as she enjoyed the sight of Tony gripping the sarge’s long hair in both fists, as he tried to pull Bucky down to his level, only to gasp and arch his back when the soldier retaliated with his teeth around the inventor’s bottom lip, his body arching to rub their hips together and his hands sliding under Tony’s ass to lift him onto the nearest desk. “Cheater,” Stark grunted, as he planted both hands on Bucky’s chest and pushed him away. He lightly fingered his lip, searching for blood, though there was none. “You should be more polite to the man that is about to do things to your arm no other man can.” With wiggling eyebrows, Tony ran a foot up the side of Barnes' leg. “Dirty old man,” Bucky responded, rolling his eyes, but there was a twist to his lips that took all the heat out of his words. “Hey, Steve, you gonna save some for the rest of us, or what?” He waved a hand to where Darcy was still curled around the good captain’s body like a limpet on steroids. “Shit,” she hissed under her breath and lowered her leg back to the ground. “Be nice, Barnes,” Sam snapped, stepping up to run a hand over Steve’s shoulder and offer his lips for a steamy kiss. When he was finished with Steve, the gorgeous airman turned to her and gave her a sardonic grin. “Don’t mind the Buckster. He only recently returned from his umpteenth stay on ice and I’m pretty sure he has freezer burn.” As he kissed Darcy playfully, she felt his body jerk as Steve shoved his shoulder gently. “Sam!” He rebuked, shooting sideways glances to where Bucky was standing, hands on his hips. Darcy barely had time to enjoy the sweet, peppermint slide of Sam’s tongue over her, and note that he must be a breath mint guy before she was distracted by the sight of Barnes pulling Steve, whose body was rigid with disapproval, into a tender embrace. “You know I love it when you get all papa bear on my behalf, Stevie, but there’s really no need,” he chuckled as he tipped Cap’s clenched jaw down to peck a kiss to his firm lips. After a pause, Steve seemed to melt against his friend and Darcy swore she could hear her brains, and quite possibly her non-existent panties, melting. “Sweet, merciful Odin,” she breathed as the two super soldiers made out right in front of her like a couple of horny, naked teenagers. “Yep,” Sam and Tony both added with appreciative sighs. Sam patted her back and gave her a “what can you do” kind of shrug. “You get used to it,” he added, as Darcy’s jaw dropped at the sound of a soft groan coming from Steve. Bucky’s metal hand was rubbing up and down Steve’s ass, pulling their bodies ever closer, which she hadn’t thought possible. “Good to see you, punk,” Steve breathed as he pulled away, finally, after what seemed like many, multiple minutes. Bucky smirked. “We had lunch together an hour ago.” Bashfully, Steve ducked his head. “It’s still true,” he insisted, eyes sheepishly on his feet. At least, that’s where Darcy assumed they were. They probably weren’t on the impressively proportioned semi that his “friend” was now sporting. Nope. Just when she didn’t think she could take anymore, Barnes turned his smoulder on her. “Hey there, doll face.” “Hey, yourself,” she mumbled, eyes watching the way his lips curled up as he stepped into the now empty space in front of her. She knew what was coming, but the prospect of actually getting to put her lips, and possible other things on the sexy cyborg was too much for her insufficient imagination to handle. And she had a hell of an imagination. He reached for her, the warmth of his right hand, and the cool pressure of his left sliding over her hips and yes, he was definitely more than half hard as he pressed against her stomach, curling down to bring all his six plus feet to bear on her. Her eyes were locked on his lips, and it seemed nothing could pull her away from the sight of that cocky smirk closing in. Nothing, except perhaps a streak of green off to her left. Her gaze jerked towards the quickly dashing little man as he sprinted between desks. “Not now ,” she whined quietly, glancing between the escaping leprechaun and the mouth that she really, really wanted to get better acquainted with. “What’s that, sweetheart?” Bucky asked, pulling back sharply with a pout and a frown. “Ugh, not you,” she insisted, pulling at his sides. When his frown deepened she groaned and shook her head. “I mean, yes you. All the yes to you. No to that obnoxious little bastard,” she explained, very badly, with a wave to wear the meddling twerp was disappearing out the door. He was getting away. Again. And she really needed to catch him. “Fuck,” Darcy growled and started to chase after the Irish menace. She turned back momentarily to the stunned and scowling Sargent and pointed at him instantly. “Stay right there. Hold that thought. I just gotta—” she waved down the hall. “I’ll be right back for that kiss, Barnes. Don’t go anywhere.” As soon as he nodded, looking slightly confounded, but decidedly less frowny, she resumed her pursuit. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter Five Darcy finally had that motherfucker. There was good imported whisky on the rocks in a tumbler, about two loaves worth of buttered toast, and the March 1987 issue of Playboy left unattended on the coffee table in the common room. Above the table, however, a Faraday cage hung where the light fixture once was, and all Darcy had to do was flick the light switch and it would drop, effectively catching the wily leprechaun that had so fucked up her day. So, nail gun in hand, Darcy waited. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long. A shimmer of rainbow light streaked in from outside the room, stopping right at the edge of the coffee table. After a few moments, the rainbow light started to solidify into a small man wearing all green. With a happy squeak, he sat down on the coffee table, chugged the whisky, and started flipping through the magazine. And Darcy sprung her trap. The Faraday cage came crashing down, trapping the leprechaun in the one thing he couldn’t get out of. Darcy rushed over and nailed the cage to the table. The leprechaun pushed against the edges of the cage, and it sparked. “What the fuck, sprite?” he yelled at her. “Science and cold iron, bitch!” Darcy yelled, making a crude gesture for added emphasis. The leprechaun flipped her off as he nonchalantly ate toast. “The Queen will have me out in a wee bit,” he said triumphantly. “Not if the King is up to his old tricks,” she said, grinning sharply. The leprechaun narrowed his eyes at her, and Darcy gave a braying laugh. The leprechaun’s eyes widened in understanding. “Aw, fuck me,” he swore. “Not even with a ten foot pole,” Darcy sang sweetly. The leprechaun started to push against the cage in an attempt to escape. Darcy plucked the champagne bottle of Asgardian mead out from where she’d hidden it under the coffee table and then climbed up and sat down on top of the cage. The leprechaun swore violently at her in Gaelic, but Darcy ignored him in favor of taking a drink. At this point in time, the residents of the Tower were finally released from whatever leprechaun magic they had been under, and they stumbled into the common room one by one. Tony was the next to last to stumble in, still suffering lingering effects of the magic, a pair of donkey ears were firmly in place on his head. “What the hell,” he brayed, taking in everyone else’s normal forms. “They suit you,” Sam smirked. “Darcy, what in the world is going on?” Steve wondered. Thor seemed to know what was going on and burst into laughter as the rest of the crew just looked confused. “You are saying,” he wheezed, “that we are merely,” he snorted, “caught up between Titania and Oberon?” he asked, tears running down his face as he continued to laugh. “Lud, what fools these mortals be,” Darcy said dryly. “Hashtag team Oberon,” she added, winking at Thor. “Wait, are we in some Shakespearean shit right now?” Bucky growled. “Yup,” Darcy said, popping the ‘p.’ “So you’re saying…” Bucky trailed off, looking at Tony and then Darcy. She nodded. “So that would make….” Bucky added, looking contemplative. “How do you think she survived as his EA for so long?” Darcy asked. “Mortal machinations are nothing compared to the Fairy Court’s politics,” she said, taking a swig from her champagne bottle. Tony donkey-kicked the wall behind him and bellowed, “Somebody better explain what the hell is going on and why I still have these ears!” “Fuck you, that’s not me fault!” the leprechaun yelled from underneath Darcy. “March 17th. The day that the Fairy Court’s prank war is allowed to happen in the mortal realms,” Darcy said as if that was common knowledge. “Titania’s… minions,” Darcy said distastefully, motioning to the leprechaun below her, “versus Oberon’s,” she pointed to herself with the champagne bottle. “Shit gets cray, and humans are too drunk to notice. Winner is declared at the stroke of midnight and gets bragging rights for the next year.” “Miss Lewis,” Pepper Potts’ cool voice cut through the cacophony of voices in the common room. “Why is Reginald in a cold iron cage? That’s really beyond the rules.” “He’s the one who crossed into the mortal realms before the seventeenth!” Darcy cried out mutinously. “Reginald?” Pepper asked, a hint of ice in her voice. “Is this true?” “Aye, me lady,” the leprechaun mumbled from beneath Darcy. Pepper sighed, a quiet, disappointed sound. She slowly looked around the room, taking in Steve’s ripped clothing, Tony’s donkey ears, the Lucky Charms and toast scattered over the floor, eyes finally landing on Darcy sitting on top of her leprechaun trap. “Do be a good fellow and fix this mess, please,” she asked Darcy. Darcy stood to her full height on the coffee table. “Ahem,” she cleared her throat before striking a dramatic pose. “If we shadows have offended, think but this—” “Really?” Pepper interjected with a sliver of a smile. “You’re going to do the whole monologue?” “Fine,” Darcy replied, rolling her eyes. “Mischief managed,” she said with an expansive wave of her hands. A wave of rainbow colored glitter rocketed through the room, dropping each of the Avengers and company into a deep, alcohol-fueled sleep, leaving only Darcy and Pepper standing amidst the former chaos. Darcy released Reginald the leprechaun from the trap, and he quickly disappeared in an attempt to avoid the wrath of Titania. Darcy hopped down from the table and walked over to perch on the back of the couch, next to where Pepper was standing. “Donkey ears, really?” Pepper murmured as she fondly looked down on where Tony was curled up on the couch. “Can’t beat the classics,” Darcy said, grinning unrepentantly. She poured each of them a tumbler full of whisky and passed one to Pepper. “Happy fucking St. Patrick’s day,” Darcy said, clinking the rim of her glass against Pepper’s. “Darcy… how much of this did you drink?” Steve asked, plucking the fake champagne bottle from where Darcy was curled around it on the couch. Darcy tried to keep the bottle in her grip, though, and ended up sprawled face down on the floor. “All of it,” she muttered into the plush carpet. “Thrice,” she added after a moment. “And on a scale of one to Charlie Sheen, how drunk are you?” Sam asked from behind Steve. Darcy rolled over onto her back and sprawled out. “Ummmmm…..Tony Stark post-Pepper but pre-Iron Man,” she said after a moment of contemplation, and then passed out. Darcy blinked her eyes open and found that she couldn’t quite sit up all the way. Her eyes darted around, looking desperately for anything out of the ordinary about her surroundings. It was the common room, and everything seemed to look right. There were no donkey-eared Tony Starks, no miniature Steves, no multiple Steves, no naked people (sadly. So sadly), no delightfully excessive makeouts being used as greetings, and no singing or dancing or orchestral scores playing in the background. Darcy crossed her eyes to see if there was a laugh track or studio audience. Thankfully, all she felt was her head pounding like a drum. What there was, were a few Avengers and Jane looking worried, and Helen Cho tending to her quietly as she lay on the couch. “Oh thank God, she’s awake,” Steve sighed in relief. “What happened?” Darcy’s voice was raspy and hoarse. “You very nearly had to have your stomach pumped,” Helen explained calmly. “I thought we agreed that super day drinking wasn’t supposed to happen unless there was a world ending event involved?” “Whoops?” Darcy offered. She blinked a few times, already feeling the hangover headache forming in her temples. “I had the strangest dreams. And you were there. And you were there…” “Please tell me Barnes was Toto in this dream,” Tony asked hopefully. “You were a fucking donkey,” Darcy accused. “Good kisser, though. I don’t even know where that came from, actually; I totally failed the Shakespeare course I took in high school.” “You are not to drink the soldier’s spirits that I bring from home, Darcy, you know this,” Thor scolded. “I didn’t mean to, someone switched the labels!” Darcy defended herself and then immediately winced as the angry elves in her brain pounded on their war drums. “Here’s the thing, we checked the surveillance and I’ll be damned if we can find out who did it,” Tony admitted. “The bottle has been in the booze fridge, undisturbed since our last party.” “Maybe it was a leprechaun?” Jane offered, looking around at Darcy’s impromptu decorating of the common room. Rainbow colored light was still dancing around most of the room. “You know, for mischief and stuff.” Darcy shivered violently and glared at Jane with the intensity of a thousand really angry suns. “Ugh,” Darcy grumbled. “New house rule. No one is ever allowed to mention the evil minions of Ireland ever again.”
10496391	Wedding and Honeymoon	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Hoshitani Yuuta, Ootori Itsuki, Hiiragi Tsubasa, Tavian, Team Ootori (Starmyu)", "Fandom": "スタミュ: 高校星歌劇 \| Starmyu \| High School Star Musical", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by moonlightkitsune", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-29T00:00:00", "words": "606", "Additional Tags": "minor Kao Kai, Team Hiiragi - Freeform, Weddings, Honeymoon, boy in dress, Love, Wedding Rings, Flowers, Implied Sexual Content", "Relationship": "Hoshitani Yuuta/Ootori Itsuki", "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 }	Their wedding day was unforgettable. It was a small ceremony, with only their family and friends."Are you nervous?" Hiragi, wearing a black suit, asks the groom."Does it show on my face?" Otori, wearing his black suit, asks his brother and best man.Hiragi smiles, "It's OK. You're fine." Otori sighs, still in disbelief that he's actually doing this.Then, the music starts, and the bride comes. Otori watches his bride come down the aisle, 'Beautiful.'The bride, one Hoshitani Yuta, is wearing a simple light green dress with frills, flats, and a simple veil over his face, bouquet of white roses in hand.As for how Hoshitani was convinced to wear the dress… Otori convinced him, plus Yuzuriha and the Nayuki twins insisted.Once down the aisle, the ring bearer, Tavian, gave them the rings, a simple engraved silver brand, the pastor making his speech.Then, "Do you, Otori Itsuki, take Hoshitani Yuta as your husband?"Otori smiles as he puts on the ring, "I do.""Do you, Hoshitani Yuta, take Otori Itsuki as your husband?"Hoshitani smiles shyly as he puts on his ring, "I do.""You may now kiss."Otori lifts the veil, and kisses Hoshitani on the lips, Hoshitani kissing back. In the background, there were cheers, crying (Tengenji and Toraishi with Inumine trying to comfort them), and soft smiles (Hiragi and Kuga).As everyone celebrated with sake and cake, there was a crowd to catch the bouquet. Smiling, Hoshitani tosses it, and… Tavian caught it. She was next to a white tom cat though, which Tengenji was furious at. The two cats ran away together, Tengenji chasing after them.Laughing, both Hoshitani and Otori enjoy the party, but leave early for their wedding night and honeymoon, Otori picking up his bride bridal style.Once alone together in their honeymoon suite, Otori puts Hoshitani down on the bed. Looking at him, "You look lovely," comments Otori, which makes Hoshitani blush. Otori lifts the veil up and over his bride's head, planting a kiss on his lips.Hoshitani smiles into it as Otori unzips the zipper on the dress, then breaks the kiss. Otori lifts the dress up some to reveal Hoshitani's legs. Smiling, he puts a hand on Hoshitani's left leg, rubbing it up and down while he gets a peek at Hoshitani's nipples. They're pink, so he decides to tease them with his mouth, sucking on them until they're a bright shade of red.Hoshitani moans as he does this, "Itsuki… The dress will…Nn… get ruined if you don't…Mm… stop."Itsuki pulls away from his beloved's nipples, and chuckles as he sees them all red, "I can't help it. It's our wedding night. Besides, seeing you in this dress makes me want to take you. And your legs…" he kisses them, "are so sexy. I'm glad you're all mine, Yuta."Yuta smiles as he blushes, "I'm glad you're mine too." He pulls Itsuki into another kiss, enjoying it.After a few hours…They both pant as they laid limply in bed next to each other. "I can't believe you…" Yuta complains, flushed and still in the dress."You're the one who begged for more," Itsuki replies, "Besides, by the way you were screaming my name, you enjoyed it."Yuta blushes, hiding his face with a pillow, "Still can't believe you did me five times…"Itsuki smirks, "I know. It felt amazing." Yuta hit him in the face with a pillow in response. "We're keeping the dress," is Itsuki's last thought before Yuta relents, "Fine…"Smiling at each other, they kiss once more, "I love you," before falling asleep.
10457484	Break My Heart	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Byun Baekhyun, Park Chanyeol, Oh Sehun, Zhang Yi Xing \| Lay, Kim Minseok \| Xiumin", "Fandom": "EXO (Band)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by chemicaljedi (orphan_account)", "chapters": "16/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-03-28T00:00:00", "words": "56,121", "Additional Tags": "Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Therapy, Therapist Sehun, Professor Baekhyun, Teacher-Student Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Consent, Social Anxiety, Daddy Issues, Alternate Universe - College/University, Mommy Issues, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Child Neglect, Happy Ending", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Byun Baekhyun/Reader, Byun Baekhyun/You", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	You were painting your nails a soft, peach-pink when your phone dinged the first time. You furrowed your brow as you put the nailbrush back in the jar and carefully reached over, examining the lockscreen with confusion. Nobody ever texted you. You were quiet, kept to yourself, and you were awkward, besides. Nobody at university so far had been all that interested in getting to know you, just as nobody in high school had been all that interested in doing anything other than making your life a living hell. So who...?[Y/N, are you still coming to your appointment tonight?] - SehunOh. That made sense. It was your therapist; he'd given you his number for emotional emergencies, and you texted on and off when you were having a crisis or just trying to set up a date for your next appointment. It wasn't unusual for him to text you for scheduling purposes, but the text left you slightly puzzled.[Yes. Eight o clock, right?] - Y/NYou waited for his reply text with dismay. He'd never checked in to make sure you weren't a last-minute cancelation before, something else had to be the matter. Had you messed up the time?Before you could pull up your calendar app, you got his reply.[... It was supposed to be seven.] - SehunYou panickedly checked the time and saw it was 7:32 PM. Shit. And the building was fifteen minutes away... how had you confused the times? Weren't you supposed to be the genius scholarship student? Your phone dinged again.[But it's alright. My nine o clock slot cancelled. Do you want to come in then?] - SehunSehun was a godsend. You felt yourself breathe properly again as you responded.[That's okay with me if it doesn't put you off any. I'm so so so sorry for forgetting!] - Y/NIt only took half a second for him to reply.[Don't worry about it. Just be careful in that waiting room. You never know what kind of people are going to walk in late at night.] - SehunYou got to your appointment early-- probably far earlier than necessary. But you'd already stood him up once that day, and you weren't the kind of person to do it twice. Actually, you weren't the kind of person to do it at all.You weren't sure that you were adjusting to university all that well. It had been two weeks, and you hadn't made a single friend. It was embarrassing. You didn't even have a roommate as a safety net. What with the university being fond of tripling, due to a clerical error, you'd been left alone, one person in a two person room. You'd even talked to the front desk about it, asking if you could get a roommate assigned to you so you wouldn't have to be alone, but the nice lady behind the desk had informed you all roommates were locked as of August 1st, but she'd let you know if any transfer students came.You put your hand on your chin as you waited, staring at the wall clock. It was 8:20. Definitely too early for you to be there; you were definitely overcompensating. With a sigh, you opened your bag and pulled out the homework for your favorite class. It wasn't due for another week, but you figured that since you had time, you might as well start. Not to mention that your scholarship depended on you maintaining your grades. You couldn't imagine the look on your parents faces if you showed up on their doorstep and told them you'd lost your scholarship. You shuddered.You were immersed in your assignment when he walked in, so much so that you didn't even notice him. You only looked up when you heard the sound of the back of his chair thumping slightly against the wall as he sat down. He was looking at you. Quickly, you looked back down to your paper, but your eyes weren't seeing it quite right. You felt blush burn in your cheeks. He was cute.It was much harder to focus on your project after that. Ever so often, you felt his eyes on you, and you couldn't help but look up. Somehow, you met his dark eyes every time, which made you blush even more furiously and look back down at your paper. You thought you heard him chuckle at you one time, but you couldn't be sure.The minutes-- already slow in passing, thanks to your eagerness to arrive early-- seemed even slower now. Why was he looking at you like that? Sure, there were no other people in the waiting room, but didn't he have better things to do to pass the time? Then again, you were doing homework..."Y/N?"You jumped to your feet, notebook in hand at the sound of Sehun calling your name. You cringed as your bag fell over from the sudden movement, knocking all of your pens and loose papers out. Shit. Sehun's last appointment excused himself hastily and left the waiting room, probably hoping to avoid the social interaction. You couldn't blame him. Apologizing profusely, you knelt down to collect your things, your face practically aflame with blush. Sehun rushed over to help you, and you tried very hard not to look over at the other boy. You'd let him stare at you for forty minutes, but he couldn't help you pick up your things? What the hell?You didn't acknowledge the boy's presence as you walked past him and into Sehun's office with your things. Yet you got the distinct feeling that he was looking at your ass.As soon as Sehun had shut the door, you flung yourself onto the couch and asked, "Who was that?"He raised his eyebrows."Oh, sorry, you probably can't answer that," you realized. "Confidentiality and all that. Sorry, just forget I asked..." You plopped your bag on the ground at your feet, making sure to shove a few straggling pens back down so you didn't repeat the waiting room spill."He's actually a friend of mine," you were surprised to hear Sehun say. "Not a client. He's here to give me a ride after I finish up here with you."Huh. "Why is he here so early?" You hadn't added it up yet.Sehun seemed to consider this for the first time too. "I may have forgotten to tell him I refilled my nine o clock slot."Great. That's probably why he'd been staring; you were the reason he was going to have to sit in an uncomfortable waiting room chair for an extra hour. You made a mental note to apologize after your appointment. It was bad enough your mistake had messed up Sehun's schedule. Now you were messing up his friends' as well?Sehun seemed to see the worry on your face."Don't worry about Baekhyun," he said, waving his hand as he took a seat in his favorite armchair. "He could use some down time. It'll keep him out of trouble for an hour, at the very least."You couldn't tell if he was joking."So, Y/N," he fixed his eyes on you and smiled warmly, but not without humor. "How are you?"You figured it wouldn't be encouraging if you buried your face in the couch cushions and groaned, so you had to resist the urge. You picked at a loose thread on your tights, watching detachedly as a small hole began to form. "Not bad," you said, which you were pretty sure was true. You weren't miserable. You just, weren't anything."Define 'not bad.'" He never let you get away with anything.You frowned, ripping the thread out in one sharp pull, magnifying the hole so it was almost obnoxiously large. "Well, I'm all unpacked up at university. I don't have a roommate, but I did ask the front desk for one, like you suggested. She said I might get one if any transfer students show up. And I'm doing well in all my classes; I really like my Ko--""Y/N." You looked up at him. "I didn't ask about your school, hun. I asked about you. How are you. Are you adjusting well to university?"Crap. You couldn't lie to Sehun for shit. "Er, well." You felt your stomach ache. You hated to let him down like this. "I don't know if I would say I'm adjusting well, but I'm not adjusting poorly, you know?" He looked at you like he most certainly did not know, and he needed you to spell it out for him. Damn you, you thought, but deep down, you were thankful for his genuine concern. He had always cared about you beyond the role of therapist; that was what you loved about seeing him. He was so different from the other therapists you'd had, whose shits to give had always mysteriously run out when your appointment was over. Sehun was never like that. So you owed him the truth.You deflated. "I haven't made any friends," you mumbled, looking at the carpet. He was silent for a moment. "Have you tried to join any clubs?" He suggested, just as he had the week before. "I know it may be uncomfortable at first, but it's an easy way to make friends.""There's no 'easy' way to make friends when it comes to me," you said under your breath."You know what your problem is?" Sehun said, his voice light. You looked up again. "You horrible to yourself. You present yourself as a horrible person. And you're not, but nobody knows that, so you're stuck in here every Thursday."Was there any way to stick your tongue out at your therapist and not seem immature? "I know. And I run away from all of my problems. And I have gargantuan daddy and mommy issues. We've gone over this.""Yes, we have." He gave you that piercing look. "But you haven't changed your behavior at all. So I'm going over it again."You did groan then, leaning back into the comfortable couch and closing your eyes. Nobody else had to try this hard to make friends. Nobody else was as awkward as you."Social anxiety makes it hard to reach out and start friendships," Sehun said. "But it's nowhere near impossible to live a normal and happy life despite of that.""I know, I just--""-- you just don't want to," he finished. You groaned again. "Because...?""Because my friends will end up deciding they don't like me anymore," you admitted, "just like they always do. I'm unlikeable. So it's better for everyone if I just keep to myself. No point fighting social anxiety if I'm not even fun to be around without it."Sehun made a disapproving noise. "For the record, I don't think you're unlikeable."You snorted. "Aw, thanks. My therapist is my only friend. Nice." You sat up and gave him the side eye. You saw him shake his head."Listen, Y/N. I'm being entirely honest when I tell you this: it's much easier to make friends out there than it is to make friends with your therapist. You've already accomplished the latter. What does that tell you about the former?""Bullshit." You rolled your eyes. "You're being paid to like me. You're paid to be my friend."At that, Sehun rose from his perch on his armchair and went over to his desk, opening the center drawer and shuffling around. What was he doing? For a quick moment, you had the thought that he was finally fed up with your shit and was about to shoot you. It was dispelled when he turned around, holding his certificate. He handed to you. "Can you read this for me?"You tried to hand it back to him. "Sehun--""You can read, right?"Of course you could read. You were in college. "I didn't mean--"He took it from your hands and pretended to examine it for a solid minute. "Nowhere on here does it say that I am a friend-for-hire," he announced. "Nowhere on here does it say that I have to like my clients. And nowhere on here does it say that I have to tell my clients that they're likable if they're not."You grumbled something under your breath about being overly-dramatic."I am a therapist. That's it. If I didn't like you, I wouldn't tell you I did. If you asked me, I would avoid the question or be honest with you. But I am telling you now under no pressure that I find you enjoyable, and if we weren't already engaged in a therapist-client relationship, I would definitely consider myself your friend." Even when he was being an ass, he was nice to you. Damn him, and damn that cute little smile he was giving you. Damn it all to hell."Fine," you grumbled. "I'll see if I can join a club. But when this all backfires, I'm blaming you."He laughed as he sat back down. "You go right ahead.""So, next Thursday at eight?" Sehun asked, emphasizing the time as he walked with you back out into the waiting room. You flashed a look at him, trying not to look at his friend--Baekhyun, he'd said-- who seemed to have gotten better-looking in just the one hour you'd been in session."Eight is fine," you said. "I have my copay, too; for this week and last.""Oh!" You could tell from the look on his face he'd forgotten to ask you for it, just like he had last week. It really did make you think that maybe he really did like you after all, if he forgot he was supposed to be paid for his services so often. "Right, let me go get my wallet and my phone to put the time in. Be right back. Do you mind if I lock up while I'm at it?" You shook your head no. "Right. I'll be right back."And then he was gone, and you were alone in the waiting room with Baekhyun. You risked a glance over to the chair where he'd been sitting, but he was gone."What's your name?"You almost jumped right out of your skin at the sound of his voice behind you. You whipped around, hand on your heart and the other clutching your purse strap for reassurance. "E-Excuse me?"He was smirking at you. God damn he's even cuter up close... is it even legal to be that good-looking? "You're cute, you know. And smart. I saw your work." His eyes seemed to be glittering. You were at a loss for words. You felt yourself gaping, even knew that your mouth was slightly open, but you couldn't think of a single thing to say. Baekhyun cocked his head, his smirk deepening. "You don't know what to say, do you? Are you one of those girls who have no idea how pretty they are?"Who was this guy? And had Sehun paid him to say these things? "I-- I-- um--" What the hell? Say something, say anything, Y/N--His thin, long fingers were encircling your wrists all of the sudden, and you felt him pull you lightly towards him. You gasped, looking up at him (he wasn't even that tall, damn it, curse your stupid height!). His smirk was gone, and he was so intense out of nowhere, his deep eyes mesmerizing. He opened his mouth to say something, and try as you would later, you could never remember what you'd been expecting him to say. You did know, however, that it was most certainly not what came out."Break my heart," he said earnestly, his grip not uncomfortable at all but strong. You couldn't breathe.And then Sehun returned. Baekhyun let go of you instantly, but it didn't seem to be quick enough. Sehun stalked over to the two of you, eyebrows raised. "Am I interrupting something?" He asked, in a tone that made it clear he hoped he very much wasn't."N-N-No," you stammered, stepping back from Baekhyun and looking everywhere but where he stood. Break my heart. "I, um. I'm gonna. Drive. I mean, I'm gonna go. I'mgonnaleavebye."Without another incoherent sentence, you darted out of the room, forgetting to give Sehun your copay in your hurry to get away from his bizarre friend. Still, you heard his musical voice the entire way to your car, repeating it over and over, like a song: break my heart, break my heart, break my heart.There were boxes outside of your dorm when you got there. A lot of boxes. What the--? You'd had just enough stress for one day. Cautiously, you poked your head in your open doorway, hearing the sound of someone moving stuff around. You edged your way into the dorm, and once you'd turned the corner past your kitchen, you saw him.He had bright red hair and handsome, boyish looks. He was loading boxes into the one side of the dorm room, with the empty bed for the roommate you didn't have. Feeling awkward, you knocked on the doorframe to your own room.He spun around, his face breaking out into a smile like sunshine. "Y/N Y/L/N?" He asked, looking excited. It took you a second to nod, like you weren't sure, exactly, what your name was. He kindly ignored it.The boy extended his hand for you to shake. "I'm Park Chanyeol; I just transferred here from Korea," he said, and you finally understood what was happening."You're my new roommate?" You asked, feeling a mix of excitement and dread. On one hand, you hated social interaction. But on the other, he was adorable, and you really did need at least one friend (who wasn't your therapist).Chanyeol nodded. "Sweet!" you said. You racked your brain for what Sehun would tell you to do in this situation. But you'd never gone over something like this! After a moment, you said, "Let me help you unpack."And that was that. You spent several hours helping your new roommate unpack, which involved a lot of him thanking you (maybe thanking you too much, it was just moving boxes, after all) and him ordering the both of you a pizza (and insisting he paid). He was definitely good company. By no means was your social anxiety gone, but he was easier to talk to than most, and he was funny. He offered a promising friendship and a good distraction from the stressful events of your therapy session. It wasn't until you were laying in your bed that night that you had to think about Baekhyun again.Break my heart. You fell asleep to the litany repeating in your brain, endlessly. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chanyeol had to wake you up the next day. With everything that had happened the night before, you'd forgotten to turn the ringer back on on your phone so you could hear your alarm. You felt his hands on your arms, shaking your body, and your eyes flew open. Not remembering that you had a roommate now-- and definitely not remembering it was this cute boy-- you screamed at the top of your lungs, throwing your arms in front of your face like he was going to attack it."Woah, woah, woah, it's me," he said defensively, quickly letting go of you and stepping back. "You weren't waking up," he explained nervously, "and class starts in half an hour. We have the same foreign literature class, remember?"You cursed, swinging your legs out from under your fluffy blankets, raking your fingers hastily through your Y/H/L hair and wincing when they got caught in snarls. Chanyeol was watching you anxiously, like he wasn't sure if he'd done the right thing in waking you. He had his hands in his pockets-- he was already dressed-- and just stood in the middle of your dorm without a purpose. To assuage his concerns, you said, "thank you so much, Chanyeol, you're a life-saver" as you rushed over to your closet, grabbing the first dress you could find. You saw him smile brightly as you doubled back to the drawers under your bed. You yanked the top one open and fetched your undergarments and some tights. As you passed him for the third time, it finally occurred to you that he wasn't moving, and you stopped. "You okay?"He seemed to blush. "Well, I was going to wait for you."Oh my God. He might have been the nicest boy you'd ever met."You don't have to wait for me," you rushed to say. "Go eat breakfast-- I'll see you in class--" You dropped your tights as you fiddled with your hands."Are you sure?" He asked hesitantly as you snatched your tights back up off the floor."Yeah-- yeah, I'm fine--" You stubbed your toe on the desk leg as you hurried to the bathroom to brush your teeth. It made a loud noise, and pain exploded in your foot. He stepped towards you in concern, and you emphasized, "Fine!" in a very weird-sounding voice.He looked like he disagreed, but he still said, "Well, okay then. See you in class, okay? Do you want me to tell the professor you're running late?""Oh please, no," you said, poking your head out of the bathroom, your toothbrush in hand. "I'll die of embarrassment. And he won't care." Your foreign literature professor was by far your least favorite teacher; he was just plain old mean . "Just go, okay? I don't want you to be hungry." "Alright. See you!" He waved at you as he grabbed his messenger bag from his desk chair and headed out of the bedroom. "See you!" you called out back, and then you heard him close the dormitory door. "Fuck, fuck, fuck me," you muttered at yourself. What kind of dumbass forgot to turn her ringer on? You brushed your teeth in record time, daubed some perfume on, and put on some plain makeup. You threw on your clothes, realizing far too late that you'd picked the sexiest casual dress you owned-- a little black number with a cutout above your breasts. You'd only ever worn it on one date! You hurried back out to your room and checked your phone for the time. Crap. You had fifteen minutes to get to class, and it was about a ten minute walk to the room. Looks like I'm wearing the sexy dress, you thought mildly to yourself as you hoisted your bag up over your shoulder. You only had time to grab two granola bars and a water bottle from your kitchen before rushing out of the dorm, locking it, and starting on your way to class. Chanyeol was already in the room when you got there. He waved at you, and you felt something warm in your stomach. Were you already friends? You hoped it was okay to join him as you headed over, dropping your bag on the desk next to him. "You ate breakfast that quickly?" You asked, impressed. You started to unwrap your first granola, your stomach grumbling angrily at you. No more oversleeping, I got it, shut up, you thought at it. He pointed at the styrofoam plastic cup sitting on the edge of his desk. "Tea," he said. He flashed you that same bright smile and said, "All I need is some caffeine, and I'm good to go." You laughed lightly, but you were fighting a frown. He hadn't eaten because of you. Because he was waiting for you. You were saved from having to formulate a response when his phone vibrated. You ate your granola bars silently as he unlocked it and peered at the screen. You didn't miss the way he rolled his eyes at whoever had text him. You weren't going to say anything, but then he scoffed, covering his mouth with his hand as he started to laugh. "Y-You okay?" Damn it, you'd really tried not to stutter. You were really trying to make some friends so you didn't have to tell Sehun that you'd made no progress again next week. He looked over at you, shaking his head. "I'm fine. It's my idiot friend that's not," he said, laughter in his voice. At your perplexed look, he elaborated. "He met this girl for about two minutes last night, it seems like, and now he's deadset on finding her and 'wooing her.'" You burst out laughing at that too, recapping your water bottle so you didn't spill it. "Did he really say, 'woo?'" You asked. Chanyeol looked at you. "Unfortunately, yes," he said. "And I don't think he did it ironically, either." His phone vibrated again, and he instinctively looked down. "No," he said to his screen. "Ugh." He looked back up at you. "He's trying to get me to help him find her." "Who does that?" You hoped you were doing this right. God. How did normal people have conversations all the time? You felt like you were gonna have a heart attack from maintaining this enjoyable one alone. "I don't know," Chanyeol sighed. "He's never like this. He's more of a love-'em-and-leave-'em kind of guy." You made a face. You hated guys like that. "Sorry," he said as he saw it. You were going to wave it away, but you heard your professor enter the room, and instead you frantically gestured for Chanyeol to put his phone away. The guy would probably have a conniption if he saw it out, and Chanyeol didn't need that on his first day at university (no one did). Chanyeol got his phone in his bag just in time. The professor appraised the class from behind his desk. Sure enough, his eyes landed on you, even though you hadn't done anything wrong. But he smiled at you then, like you had, and your stomach flip-flopped. "Y/L/N!" He called sharply. Quick fact: being singled out in class is, like, the Worst Thing to Ever Happen to someone with social anxiety. Almost up there with mosh pits and middle school dances. "Y-Yes?" You sounded like a mouse. A very small, very frightened mouse (who had done nothing wrong!). "I thought I made it clear that eating is prohibited during my class," the professor said, his lip curling as he stared pointedly at your granola bar wrappers. You clenched your jaw. Mouse was gone. Enter, pissed-off lion. Not once had he ever said that, and it had never been mentioned in his course syllabus either-- you knew that, because you'd practically memorized the thing. And even if eating was prohibited-- which it wasn't-- you weren't even eating. You'd finished the goddamn granola before class had even started! He waited for your response, and you had to choke back several unprintable responses to his simpering glare. "Sorry, professor," you forced out, crumpling up the wrappers and grabbing your water bottle for good measure before stuffing the lot in your bag. "It won't happen again, sir." "Of course not," he said dismissively. He paused for a moment to prolong your Worst Thing to Ever Happen moment, and then he began the lecture. Face burning with anger, you retrieved your notebook and pencil from your bag and flipped open to a fresh page, copying down every key point he made with spite. He could hate you all he wanted. You were going to ace his class. Next to you, Chanyeol coughed, a few times in a row. When you looked over, he mouthed, Is he always like that? You had to swallow your giggle as you nodded in reply. "Y/L/N! Kindly refrain from flirting during classtime!" You groaned internally and got back to your immaculate notes. Some things were just not worth the fight. You didn't eat lunch alone for the first time since starting university, and having company was everything you had hoped it'd be and more. This, of course, was helped by the fact that your company was Chanyeol, and he was inexplicably the leader of your previously nonexistent defense squad."Is he allowed to be like that to girls?" He demanded furiously as you two worked at your meals in the courtyard.You raised an eyebrow. "It's not just girls," you said. "It's everyone. He's an equal-opportunity asshole. And yeah, I don't think the school really cares. From what I've heard, he's been here for ages, and he's like, a veteran or something. The historical commission would start a riot if he got fired."Chanyeol made a face. "Being a veteran doesn't mean you can be a dick," he said in a flat voice, and you couldn't help but laugh at the combination of his cute face, flat tone, and language. "Sorry," he said, thinking he'd offended you. "You know, service is required for all males in Korea. We all do it. And we all don't walk around like gigantic assholes.""Is it really?" You'd never known. "So, you're from Korea?"Chanyeol looked at you. "Look at me. Did you think I was German?"You blushed at yourself, but still muttered, "You could be" before taking a sip of your drink. You thought for a second, and then said, "You know, your English is really good. I figured you'd just transferred from, like, out of town.""Now, technically, yes," he grinned. "I did. Just, from... really far out of town."It went like that for the rest of your break, and you hated to go, even though you knew you'd see him later. But you didn't want to have to rush to both of your classes that day, and besides, the upcoming class was your favorite-- it was that class' project you'd been working diligently on in Sehun's waiting room. You told Chanyeol goodbye and agreed you'd meet in your dorm after class for homework and snacks. Then, you started off to your favorite class of the semester.It wasn't a very far walk, but it felt farther than usual that day, like your body knew what was coming even though your mind didn't. You were aware, of course, that the teacher you'd had so far had been a stand-in, and that your actual professor was handling business abroad. You were in fact wondering when he would return when you walked into his room that day, picking your usual seat at the back of the class (less stares, better for social anxiety). You peered at the front of the room with mild interest, but there was no teacher there at all. Wondering if today might really be the day your professor came, you felt yourself become more and more anxious. What if he was like your lit professor? God, if you had to deal with two pretentious asshole teachers in one day, you'd snap, you really would.You have no evidence that he's a pretentious asshole, you reminded yourself as you unsheathed your project from your bag, examining the translations you'd done so far with confidence. Who knew that you'd love Korean so much? You remembered your parents scoffing when you selected it for your foreign language credit-- hoping to avoid too large of a class-- and how they'd 'seriously questioned' that you'd ever have a use for it.You'd have to introduce them to Chanyeol sometime.You were still giggling at the thought when your professor walked in, and you felt yourself buzz with excitement-- this wasn't your usual sub, it had to be the professor! God, you really hoped he liked you, or at least tolerated you..."Take out what you've done for your projects so far," the professor said at the front of the room, with no preface. His words weren't necessarily friendly, but his voice was musical, pleasant. He was facing away from you all, setting up the projector screen so that it wouldn't roll up as he did his presentation. Man, he really did have a nice voice... and oddly familiar, too, where had you heard it before?Once your classmates had stopped rustling through their bags to reveal their mediocre beginnings to their projects, he began to speak again, pulling his Macbook out of his bag and flipping it open, connecting it to the projector to transfer his screen to the big one. "As I'm sure you've gathered by now, I'm your official professor for the year. My name is Byun Baekhyun-- Byun being the family name, as I hope you would know from your studies so far. Family name comes first. That being said, please refrain from calling me Professor Baekhyun. It's..." He finally turned around. "Weird," he finished.God. Damn.This was not happening. This was not happening to you.It was the same Baekhyun as Sehun's Baekhyun-- "break my heart" Baekhyun.You were going to be sick. You zeroed in on your notebook, staring blankly at the characters that had made perfect sense two minutes prior, but now just looked like chicken scratch. Well. It's been real, Korean language. I really enjoyed our fling. But it seems I have to drop this class... immediately..."Has anyone started their projects yet?"By God-- on a normal day, there was no way in hell you would have singled yourself out like that by saying you had, so whatever force was compelling you to raise your hand amidst the shameful silence was definitely external. I've been possessed. Sehun will never believe it.Baekhyun, not having recognized you yet, noticed your hand and nodded. "Awesome, Miss...?" Shitshitshitfuckshitfuckfuck. He was adjusting his position so he could see you all the way in the back. You were doomed.You let out a defeated sigh and said, "Y/N Y/L/N, sir."You saw the recognition in his eyes the second he saw you, and your stomach felt like it was trying to crawl its way out of your esophagus.He grinned."Y/N," he said-- no, more like murmured. Jesusfuck, you were going to die. Please, God, please. Fling my worthless body into the Sun. "How far have you gone?" He asked you."I-- I, I started, really, only," you mumbled, looking at your notes. "Just a handful of pages, really. And they might not even be right.""I'm sure they're right," he said in response. After a wink so subtle you might have imagined it, he went right back to his lecture, as if he didn't recognize you after all, as if he'd never met you before. As if you'd imagined the whole thing.There was no possible way you'd imagined the whole thing. Sure, Baekhyun (you were not going to think of him as Professor Byun) hadn't explicitly said, "Hey, I remember flirting with you in Sehun's office", but you knew he knew it was you. It had been a week since he'd returned, and he'd just kept smirking at you and calling on you incessantly-- even when you didn't know the answer, damn it.You'd taken to glaring at him all lecture-long, social anxiety be damned. It had become a sort of class-wide joke, how much you seemed to hate Baekhyun-- so much so that when he told you to stay behind after your Thursday class, you heard kids placing bets on who'd survive the encounter as they walked out the door.You sighed. If those were the candidates, did you really want to make friends in the first place?Baekhyun didn't bother to close the door after the last of your classmates left. That, at least, reassured you that he wasn't going to do anything weird. It occurred to you, as you walked to his desk, that you should have been worried about something like that. And that you should be anxious.But you weren't anxious. You were just irritated.His eyes appraised you, examining your face up close. Just when you were starting to think he wasn't going to say anything, he spoke. "Do you remember what I asked of you?" He questioned, his handsome eyes glittering with mischief.Break my heart. Had he expected you to forget? Should you lie?You didn't. "Yes," you said. "But... sorry, what the fuck?" You blushed at your own language. Weird and annoying as he may be, he was your professor, after all, and you were a scholarship student.He didn't seem to mind your cursing. "Apparently I need to have my heart broken," he said simply, looking at you. He looked curious. (And infuriatingly good-looking.)What does that even mean? "That's fantastic?" What were you supposed to say? Had he legitimately been asking you to break his heart?"You're not unattractive," Baekhyun continued. What the-- "And you know Sehun. So you're ideal."Did this guy think that being beyond-attractive meant he could say whatever he wanted? Ugh. "Rude. You're rude, you know that? And I'm not helping you," you said in disgust. You shook your head, hiking your bag-strap up on your shoulder and turned to go.But you never got to walk away."You have to," he said in that musical voice. His tone wasn't hostile, or threatening. But something in it let you know that you needed to turn back and look at him."And why is that," you said through clenched teeth. God, all you wanted was a normal life-- some friends, and no creepy professors. Was that too much to ask for?"Because." He shrugged, seemingly carefree. "Otherwise, I'll tell everyone you tried to seduce your professor."Your heart spluttered, and you found yourself gaping at him. Your first thought was that no one would believe him-- and your second was that, no, they definitely would. He could play it almost any angle. Scholarship student, desperate for good grades in a challenging class. Social outcast, vying for validation from her teacher. Lonely girl, trying to get it on with her sexy professor... any one was believable. And it was his word over yours, even if you tried it conversely; even if you tried to tell a supervisor about this event itself before he could talk. Fuck fuck fuck. He was a professor, and you were a student who wasn't even paying to be here. Maybe if you had friends, you could have counted on them to back you up, but as it stood, all you had was Chanyeol. And he was a transfer student, who you'd only known for a week. His credibility was lacking."You wouldn't," you heard yourself saying.He raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't I?"You were shaking your head, your heart pounding now, your arms cold and your legs prickling. "Sehun wouldn't let you get away with that," you said desperately. They were friends, sure, but Sehun was a good guy. And you were friends with him too, right? At least he'd said so...Baekhyun smirked and leaned in, causing you to flinch back, even though there was a desk between you. "He's the one who told me I needed to have my heart broken in the first place."You closed your eyes. "Can't you pick someone else? Anyone else? Someone who's not..." Me? "your student?""I could," he admitted. His eyes flashed. "But I want you.""But I-- what if I already have a boyfriend?" You tried."You don't," he said swiftly. "No friends either, it seems."You crossed your arms. "And what makes you think that?" There was no way Sehun would have told him that. Not only was it a betrayal; it was illegal."Teachers talk, Y/N," he said, rolling his eyes. "And we're not blind, you know. You only ever hang out with your roommate. And you're definitely not dating him." You didn't think that was quite fair to Chanyeol, as he was very attractive, but that wasn't the point."I'm not-- do you want me to date you? And then dump you?" How was this your life?Baekhyun waved his hand dismissively. "Something of the sort," he said, "I don't know. Sehun just said I needed my heart broken. Apparently, I'm 'selfish and over-confident' and I ought to be humbled."No kidding.You stepped back from his desk a bit. "You wouldn't really tell everyone I tried to seduce you," you said, eyes narrow."I think you greatly overestimate my compassion," he said. Your stomach sank. "It's not like you'll get in trouble for it. Just some shame and all that. But from the look on your face, it's enough."What an asshole! Of course it was enough. If he said that stuff about you, it would get back to your parents, and-- you almost screamed-- they would kill you.They'd kill me, they'd kill me, they'd kill me. They wouldn't believe you; they never did. Oh god oh god. You took three gasping breaths. "You can't tell anyone," you said seriously, your voice quivering. "My parents'll-- I'll literally die. And my social life--""I thought we already established you didn't have a social life.""Shut up," you snapped. He looked like a kicked puppy. You were going to be sick. "Shut up, just shut up. I'll do what you want. Not that that's a surprise to you, is it? You've got it all worked out. Guys who look like you never get told 'no', do they?" You were furious. You latched onto your bag with a grip tighter than a vice, and glared at him. His eyes were fixed on you, mild, his handsome face open. You opened your mouth to yell some more, but you could think of nothing else to say.Without another word, you spun on your heel and whirled out of the classroom, your heart pounding in your chest, throbbing harder than the indignant rage in your veins. Break my heart. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Sehun was staring at you.Well. Staring might not be the best word. What he was doing had much more intention than that; he was lasering into you, eyes sharp and cutting into your chest. Your soul. Whatever."It doesn't matter," you muttered, turning your head away, knowing he would call you out on it.But he didn't, really. He didn't say, "Clearly, it does!" like you'd thought, or even snort.He got mad."Y/N." His voice was so rough that your gaze jerked back to him. Your stomach lurched. He was simmering. "I want you to understand me when I say this: it matters. The second you say it doesn't is the second you give your power away."You felt your eyes started to water. Cringing because you hated crying, you brought a hand to your face and wiped at your tears as you said, "They told me it was my fault I have no friends," finally.Sehun was silent."That I'm a miserable bitch, and no wonder no one likes me, because I'm so challenging to be around." You dropped your hands in your lap and looked down at them. Dejectedly, you shrugged. "I guess they're right.""They are not." Sehun's voice was no longer rough, but it was ten times more forceful. "Y/N, you are a lovely person. I would never lie to you and tell you that I enjoy your company if I didn't. Your parents are the miserable ones, understand? And there is never a good enough reason to justify them speaking to you like that. Never. Never." That's not what you'd been told your whole childhood. You shook your head. "You don't understand. They're really good people. It's not like--""Y/N." Sehun stared you down, bringing you to silence almost immediately, interlacing his fingers and letting out a little breath. His eyes were boring into you with something like empathy when he said, "It's abuse."You just stared. Stared. And yes, that was the word for it, there was nothing else-- just blank, heart-beating, blood-pulsing staring. ... what? It wasn't even necessarily that the thought had never occurred to you before.Your parents had always been like this, always yelled and fought and hurt you on purpose. But they never raised a hand at you, so what could anyone do? That meant it wasn't abuse... right?"I don't..." you said weakly, and Sehun waited for you to finish a sentence you hadn't actually planned to complete. You sighed. You were just so tired."I'm going to give you some articles to read," he said quietly after a moment. "They give the basics on emotional and psychological abuse, and neglect. I want you to read through them this week in your own time, and I want you to highlight everything that seems familiar." Everything? He must have seen the look on your face. "Everything," he repeated firmly. You groaned and slouched back into his couch, wishing, despite everything, that you could stay and talk to him for a little while longer. But your session was almost over, and you had promised Chanyeol you'd be back right after so you could eat dinner together..."Damn it." Without you noticing, Sehun had risen, and had apparently been searching through his desk. "I don't have any printed."You perked up. "Does this mean I won't have to--?"He laughed. "No," he said, shaking his head. "I just am going to have to ask you to stay after a bit so I can photocopy some more for you. Do you think you could? It should only be a few minutes."You hesitated. Sehun saw, and you knew you should explain so you didn't hurt his feelings, but if you told him you'd promised Chanyeol you'd meet up, he'd make another twenty minute monologue about how proud he was that you'd finally made a friend. "I don't mind," you said after a moment, and then smiled meekly at him.He nodded, and then a look passed over his face. "Crap. Remember my friend that you met last time?"Double crap. So far, you'd managed to keep yourself from telling Sehun about Baekhyun. Despite what Baekhyun had said, you knew Sehun, and you knew that he'd never let Baekhyun get away with using you like this. But... something was telling you to keep your mouth shut anyway, and maybe it was anxiety (probably it was anxiety), but you'd heard about woman's intuition one too many times to ignore such a strong feeling. What if your body knew something you didn’t?You pretended to strain your memory. "Uh... yes. I do." Break my heart."Well, he's driving me again today because my car is broken. Again. And he really is a great guy, but when it comes to women..." He looked like he wasn't sure how much would be appropriate to share. Little did he know he didn't need to share anything. You were pretty sure you knew how Baekhyun was, not that you could tell your therapist that. "He's a little... flirtatious. He's probably in the waiting room again. Will you be okay to sit out there if I lock up and go make some copies?" God damn-- god friggin-- Well, now you were screwed. If you said 'no', he'd not only be disappointed in you for avoiding facing social situations, but he might even get suspicious. And Christ, that feeling really didn't want Sehun to know about your thing with Baekhyun...You shrugged, as nonchalant as you could force yourself to be. "No problem."Sehun seemed to ease up almost instantly. "Great," he said, and before reaching for his bag and keys, he added, lowly, "I mean, he'd never lay his hands on a girl without her asking first, but, he's the kind of guy that knows he's good-looking. He's...""A jackass?" You supplied, maybe a little too quickly.But Sehun just laughed. "Exactly. But he's my friend, so try not to kill him if he comes on to you," he requested, and you promised you would. Oh, he has no fucking idea...Sehun had only been out of the room for 0.2 seconds before Baekhyun smirked and said to you, in that bastard sweet voice, "Hello, Y/L/N."You crossed your arms. "You know, if you're going to threaten and blackmail me, the least you can do is use my first name," you snapped. You hated the way he said your last name, like it was something dirty.He grinned again, but said nothing on it. Instead, he asked, "How long have you been seeing Sehun?"You opened your mouth and closed it again. You'd been prepared to fire off a smartass retort to whatever response you'd expected him to give about your name. But there he was, changing the topic, and what the hell? Who the hell asks those kinds of questions?You clenched your fist. "A year," you said.Who the hell answers those kind of questions?! You tried to justify your madness by insisting to yourself that he'd leave you alone if you answered his question.But he only asked more. "Are you seeing him for any particular reason?"Jesus Christ. He was asking these questions casually. It was like he was trying to make you uncomfortable— but—no, those eyes were looking at you with amusement and interest, not malice. He really wasn’t trying to make you uneasy. He was just… curious.Well, whether or not he meant to make you uncomfortable, he had. And he’d blackmailed you into… whatever he’d blackmailed you into. So you weren’t pulling any punches.“I tried to kill myself,” you said, soberly.He didn’t even flinch. The boy blinked, just blinked. You assumed he would have just moved on to the next question, but Sehun walked in, carrying a small stack of papers.You didn’t move, and neither did Baekhyun. Sehun noticed the tension in the room right away.“Baek. Can you for maybe once in your life not hit on every girl within a twenty mile radius?”Baekhyun rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t hitting on her,” he said, and, well, it was technically true. So when Sehun looked to you for confirmation, you nodded. “We were just talking. Did you know she’s a student up at the university?”Sehun stiffened and glared at his friend. You almost wanted to laugh. You could see him thinking it through, worrying that his friend would seek you out on campus and chat you up when Sehun wasn’t around to intervene.Really, honestly, if he only knew…“Hey, Sehun?” You rose to your feet, bag on your shoulder (with your Korean homework inside, as a matter of fact). “Can I have those papers? I’ve got to get home soon. I actually promised my roommate we’d have dinner together.”He smiled at you. “That’s great!” He came over, and lowered his voice as he handed the papers to you. “Call me if these are too much. And you can always stop and wait to finish them until in-session.”You nodded. “Thanks, Sehun,” you said, and you held the papers tight in your fist as you got the hell out of dodge.Chanyeol was understanding. You felt horrible.“Don’t!” He replied when you told him you felt bad about holding him up. “It was therapy! Jesus, who would be mad at you for running overtime at therapy?”You thought of your parents. And then tried to make the thought disappear, as it related directly to the stack of papers you’d shoved under your mattress the second you’d gotten home. The papers you were pretty sure you never wanted to read.The two of you were sitting on your bed, side by side, staring at the TV you’d installed on the other wall the first week you’d been here. On it, some soap opera was playing, and some girl was screaming about how her sister had slept with her husband, who was also a mafia leader, but secretly gay… or something. You were far too absorbed in your own soap of a life to pay attention to the charmingly dramatic Spanish people on screen.“Y/N… Y/N… wake upppp.”You shook your head. “Sorry.” Maybe you should just shred the papers Sehun had given you. Pretend your roommate was feral. Chanyeol ate my homework. Whoopsie? The boy in question was looking at you with cute concern, his fried chicken forgotten on his paper plate below. “Sorry, I just… can I talk to you?”His face wrinkled with worry. “Um, yes? We’re friends, right?” You nodded, again, too quickly. He didn’t seem to mind. “Yeah. You can talk to me whenever you want. Are you okay?”You made a face. “Okay, so here’s the thing…”You were late to Baekhyun’s class. You were late to Baekhyun’s class. God, you were just asking for trouble at this point, holy hell, what was wrong with you? You were full-out sprinting across campus, your lunch cradled in your arms like a baby (what, like you were going to throw it away?). Your skirt kept flipping up, and you kept cursing, and potato chips kept falling, and you were sure you were a sight to see for any goddamn passerby or other idiot students who weren’t in class yet.You had no idea how you’d survived without Chanyeol. You’d been without him today at lunch, because you’d put off your Korean homework, and you’d needed to get it done. So, you’d gone to the library instead—alone. And wouldn’t you just know it, you’d fallen asleep atop your translation! So not only were you late (to Baekhyun’s class) but you also had not finished his damn homework!You tried to enter the classroom as quietly as you could, hoping and praying that maybe he wouldn’t notice or even that he had a replacement. But lo and behold, he was there, and even better: when you opened the door, your coffee cup fell right out of your hand, andburning hot coffee splashed up your legs.And you yelped.Everyone in the class turned around to stare at you—nightmare!!!—as you frantically tried to wipe the burning coffee off of your legs with your sleeve. Once the burning was gone, your stomach dropped, and you looked up to meet Baekhyun’s eyes.He was grinning at you. Smirking again, in that cheeky way that made it look like he was undressing you with his mind.It was a good thing, for him, that everyone was looking at you, then.He gave a dramatic sigh. “Miss Y/L/N.” You could hear the entire class inhale, waiting for his verdict, for him to tear into the one student who so clearly hated him. “Please take a seat.”And the vultures withered. Assholes, you thought, as you picked up your coffee cup and made your way to your seat. You sat and ignored their contemptuous stares, taking out your homework and being glad that Baekhyun was one of those professors that didn’t check homework. If you want to fail, go ahead and fail, he’d said on his first day as he’d shed his jacket (the words had been muffled by the sounds of girls swooning).But of course not doing one assignment didn’t mean you wanted to fail. At least, that’s what you tried to remind yourself as you tried to discreetly complete your work. Your chest was tight as you failed in your fight against your parents voices in your head, telling you you were lazy, and you didn’t deserve to go to college on their money…“Y/L/N. Please stay after class.”What? Everyone was leaving the room already. This was bullshit; you weren’t that late! Or had you really been so anxious that so much time had passed without you noticing? Either way, you let out a breath of defeat and nodded at Baekhyun, hoping he just wanted to talk to you about professor things, and knowing that would not be the case.Everyone cleared out this time with snickers, and most of them walked around the coffee spill very purposefully, as if to extentuate it. God. Damn. Assholes.“Did you burn yourself?”“Holy shit!” you exclaimed, and you jumped so hard you almost fell out of your chair. He was right by you, peering down with curious eyes. You glared up at him. “No, I’m fine,” you said, and you rubbed your thigh at the place where it’d hurt the worst.“Oh,” he said. Then— “Well, in that case—”He leaned down, and you were hit by how good he smelled and also surprised by how intimidating he could be with such a cute face. “Why were you late for my class? And,” he saw the half-finished paper on your desk, “why haven’t you done my homework?”Your heart was pounding. You’d already been anxious, and he was far too close. And he was going to scold you, oh my God, you were lazy—“I—”He held up a hand to stop your explanation and straightened up, his eyes flashing. Right, no excuses.“I’m sor—”“Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” He asked curiously. “It was just a question. You know I don’t care about stuff like that.”You were shaking. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t yelled, that he’d been far more reasonable than anyone had with you in the past. He’d set you off, and now…“Y/N.” You jolted. It was the first time he’d ever called you by your name. You looked up at him, embarrassed by the half-formed anxious tears in your eyes. “Have dinner with me tonight.”Your heart spluttered. “Wh-what?”He tilted his head, leaning back on a desk without a care in the world. That indecent smirk played at his lips again. “Have you forgotten again?”Break my heart. Of fucking course not. But it was one thing to be forced into the arrangement, it was another thing to see it through. The way he was looking at you, what if he touched you—He snorted. “I thought I told you I’m not going to touch you without permission.” Jesus, you were way too readable lately. “I’m asking for dinner, not sex. Understand?”You were bright pink. So now he thought you were slow. Or maybe he always had, and that’s why he’d singled you out. Yeah, that was probably it…“I understand,” you muttered, “but—” Your eyes darted towards the open classroom door. You leaned in your seat a bit to half-whisper, “Isn’t that a little risky?”He shook his head with that lions’ smile on his lips. “Not at all,” he said.“But—” If someone, anyone, saw the two of you, the both of you were done for. And not that you entirely cared about him, but you would be dead. Your parents would kill you.“Listen. Y/N. I will not be taking you any place where your peers will be going.” You felt your cheeks redden. Did anything in the world bother him at all? And why was it so easy for him to bother you? “And as for the school. Do you know who paid for this building? And the next?”You felt trepidation in your gut. Still, you shook your head.“Let me just say that unless I were to film us having sex with one another and post it on the internet, there’s really nothing the school will do.”Your stomach did a funny flip. That was two times he’d mentioned sex in one conversation. And, hell yeah, compared to guys your age, that was low, but…“Y/N, I wouldn’t set you up for failure,” he said. You looked at him, your eyes hard. “I gave you an objective, and getting us split up before you can do any damage is extremely counterproductive. So take that as a comfort. I’m counting on you.”You sighed. That wasn’t comforting in the slightest.“You’re mad,” you said finally. “Absolutely mad. But what else can I say? Fine.”He grinned. “Meet me in the Courtyard at nine tonight.”You were pretty sure your eyes almost bugged. “Nine?”He nodded, that grin still on his face. “Gives you plenty of time to finish your assignent,” he said.That was it. Your cheeks on fire with blush, you hoisted your bag up and went for the door. Just as you were passing through it, you heard him call.“And Y/N?” Clenching your teeth, you turned around to see him lounging on that desk, looking far too handsome and deceptively sweet. “Dress nice.” Bastard. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Y/N?"You kept your eyes closed. Maybe if he thought you were sleeping, he'd leave you to die."Y/N."Maybe you should feign a snore."Y/N, you need to get ready for your date."God damn it. Why had you wanted a roommate, again?With a groan, you sat up from where you'd been trying-- and failing-- to sleep on your tiny bed. Chanyeol was looking at you with a mix of concern and amusement. "Are you sure you're up for this date tonight? You don't look so good..."Well, that was flattering.You swung your legs over the side of your bed, rubbing at your eyes in hopes of brightening them. "I'm fine, I just..." How much could you really tell Chanyeol, aside from that you had a date? "I just don't want to go," you admitted.Understatement of the year.He didn't seem to understand. "If you don't want to go--" he helped you stand up, as you'd been clutching at your bed dizzly-- "then why are you going? And you never told me who you're going out with. Who is it again?"You had to keep yourself from bursting out into hysteric laughter. Oh, nobody, just my Korean professor, no big deal. You shook your head. "I don't want to talk about it," you said darkly, and he took the hint."Do you want help getting ready?" He asked. You eyed him and saw that his textbooks and laptop were open and waiting on his bed."Don't you have work to do?" you asked. He waved it away. "Your date is more important. Besides, it's Friday."Right. That."You can help if you want," you said. You could probably use an extra set of eyes when picking out an outfit. You really didn't want to look sloppy-- you didn't need to embarrass yourself even more than you'd already been embarrassed, thanks-- but you also didn't want to look like you were actually eager to be there. And, limited as your fashion sensibility was, you had no idea how to convey that with your dwindling supply of date-worthy clothes. "Can you help me pick out something to wear?"Chanyeol nodded. As you led him to your closet, you checked your phone for the time. Eight o clock. Shit, fuck, shit. Well, maybe if you were late, he'd decide he didn't like your attitude and leave you alone. Maybe.Probably not.You and Chanyeol sorted hurriedly through your closet for a few minutes before you gave up, shaking your head and stepping away. "I'll just wear a dress or something," you announced, "don't worry about it. I have to go do my hair and makeup. Seriously, just do your work; I'm a lost cause."Chanyeol didn't say anything from where he was in your closet, and you figured that meant 'okay.' You rushed to the bathroom and did your makeup as lightly as you could, because you really didn't want him to think you were trying for him. This was for you, damn it. You brushed your hair so fast it hurt, but you had no time to wince, really. You sprayed it with product and styled it the best you could before bursting back out into your room, where you found Chanyeol holding a dress you'd shoved in your closet while unpacking and had forgotten about almost immediately after."No," you said automatically. It was too small. Too tight. Too... black.Chanyeol looked confused. "But it's a date, right?" He clearly wasn't getting that you really didn't want to go, was he? "You'd look great in this. Don't you want to...?""Not particularly," you grumbled, but it was getting later and later, so you snatched it from him with a grateful mutter and then returned to the bathroom so you could change. Once it was on, you refused to look at yourself in the mirror. You knew if you looked, you'd hate the outfit even more, and then you'd change clothes a million times, and your hair would be a mess again, and you'd get makeup all over yourself. It'd happened before.You plodded out of the bathroom again and searched for your flats. "Have you seen my black flats?" You asked him, glancing over at where he sat, finally on his bed and reviewing his homework. He shook his head and gave you a once over. "No. But you should wear heels.""I'm not wearing heels," you said automatically. That just screamed 'fuck me' and that was the last message you wanted to convey.You bent over, searching under your bed for the shoes that had completely, utterly vanished. You were groping around in the dark when your hand fell on a stack of papers. Your brow furrowing, you pulled it out, and instantly felt your stomach drop. It was the stack of papers Sehun had given you about abusive parents.You'd shoved them under there almost immediately after you'd gotten home the night before, resentful and petulant, like a child. You didn't want to look at them, because you were terrified they'd tell you something you could never unknow.But still, you clutched them in your hand, unable to let go. I should just burn them, you thought wildly, forgetting your date for a hot second as you contemplated starting a bonfire with your mental health paperwork. No wonder I have to see a therapist once a week. Angry, you threw the papers on your bed and went back to searching for the flats. You could destroy them later. You liked Sehun a lot, but you weren't going to do this. You weren't going to do it, and that was final. Your parents were good people with a lot of problems. Just because they did certain things or said certain things, that didn't mean...You found your flats and grunted triumphantly. You put them on as fast as you could and checked your phone. Eight-twenty.Damn it. So now, you were early? The Courtyard was only a five minute walk, and you were not showing up early. That gave off all kinds of vibes you needed to avoid. Before you could consider the best way to waste thirty minutes, you got a text from your parents.[Remember. You should be studying, every night of the week. Dad says to buckle down in Korean. The college won't let us see your grades, but we think you might be failing, with how little you tell us about that class.]Charming. That was from your mom.[Y/N, you know you're not allowed to go on dates, right? And no parties.]And that was your dad. Quickly, you texted back, [Of course, dad. Love you. Gotta get back to studying.] You went to reply to your mother, but for some reason, tears were watering in your eyes. Your hand shaking, you threw your phone on your bed. You were slipping; you should have thought ahead like you were only doing now and realized that you couldn't take your phone with you on your date. Your parents tracked you and got alerts on where you went and when. They'd see wherever you went with Baekhyun, and God, you had no idea how you'd deflect those questions, especially when you'd just told your father you were studying.You wiped at your eyes with haste, blinking around to clear them. Your eyes, as if they had a mind of their own, landed on the front page of the packet Sehun had given you, on the bullet-pointed list detailing the behaviors of abusers.Your vision focused on the words: controls actions.You were pretty sure your eyes were still puffy by the time you got to the Courtyard, but you doubted Baekhyun knew your face well enough to notice. You stood, unwilling to sit down in so tight a dress, and waited for him to arrive for a short while. To your surprise, he wasn't overly late, and he didn't stand you up. You'd been half-expecting that ego to translate into "fashionable" tardiness or practical jokes. But no, he strolled into the Courtyard some five minutes after you'd arrived, and when he saw you, you felt more than saw his eyes trace over your form."You look nice," he murmured as he came over to your side. When his eyes reached your face, you saw him visibly notice your puffy eyes. His expression changed, to something indescribable, but he didn't say much on it. He only muttered, "Me?" and then seemed a bit less worked up when you shook your head no, you weren't crying over him."Let's just go," you said, and it was then that you blinked away your remaining tears and took a good look at him.Your breath caught. Fuck my life. He looked gorgeous, goddamn gorgeous, how was that fair? You bit your lip as you looked quickly away from him, the image of him pressed in your eyelids, flashing every time you blinked. He looked so good.Why the hell was he messing around with you?You must have been making an even worse face, because Baekhyun's face almost seemed concerned for a moment, and he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?" in a low voice.With your professor? Who was currently blackmailing you into dating him? No fucking thank you.You shook your head. "Let's just go," you muttered, and to your surprise, he took you by the arm, confidently, leading you out of the garden and through the common area, where students convened to eat, drink, and shamelessly flirt. You'd only been once (too many people for you), but you knew it must be crowded all hours of the day. "Wait!" You grabbed onto his arm to halt him, letting go instantly when you realized how firm his arm muscles were and that you were squeezing them. You looked up at him with nervous eyes. "Everyone's going to see us."One corner of his mouth quirked up. "And you care because...?" He gave you a very pointed once over. "If I looked like that, I'd want to show myself off, you know."You were pretty sure you had heart palpitations. You struggled to keep your jaw from dropping as you looked away, your cheeks red. "Don't," was all you said on the matter. "And I don't want people to see me... with you."You looked over at him to see if he was offended, but he almost looked pensive. Then, he laughed. "I guess you wouldn't, would you? That's the whole hold I have over you." He smiled, and you hated the damn sight, because he really looked so innocent and sweet. It was deceptive. Not to mention fucking annoying. "Would you rather we go the other way? It's the cultural center's walkway. No one ever goes there."You nodded. You weren't really thinking, at the time, that you were agreeing to go somewhere dark and secluded with a man you didn't know, a man who clearly didn't take 'no' for an answer. The two of you turned and set off in the other direction, the silence a little tense, but his posture and body language entirely at ease.You glanced surreptitiously over at him. What the hell went on in his head? You'd never gotten a clear answer on why he was so determined to have his heart broken in the first place, and, more importantly, why he thought you'd be the one to do it.During one of your not-so-indiscreet glances, he looked over and caught you, smirking as he led you down the cultural center's walkway, towards God knew where. You blushed again and started to stammer an apology, but he cut you off."I wasn't flattering you, you know," he said, and you couldn't detect a trace of mockery in his voice. "I mean it. You don't show yourself off nearly enough."You tried to ignore the way your gut flipped. He was hitting on you. Of course he was, what else would he be doing? You still felt your palms getting sweaty, and you were glad that he wasn't trying to hold your hand. "I have really bad social anxiety," you tried to explain.He stopped walking and looked over at you, critically. After a moment, he nodded. "Makes sense," he said, and he resumed his pace. "I just thought you were shy." You didn't say anything. "So is that why you go see Sehun?"Your stomach jolted at the reminder of his connection to Sehun. The whole thing was just too weird. Your therapist's friend was blackmailing you into dating him. What kind of bullshit was that?"Sort of," you said, and you didn't offer any further explanation.But he didn't drop the subject. "There's more?"You thought of the stack of papers strewn across your bed, and you shot him a look. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes. There's more."He was silent for a moment, and the two you of you were just walking. You began thinking about how nice the late-summer air felt on your skin, and how, was it really that bad, to be out at night with such a handsome man? Was it really terribly awful, to wear a pretty dress and get courted by the most beautiful person you'd ever seen in your life?You looked over at him again, if only to see his expression. He seemed to be contemplating."Y/N, if you ever need help, or someone to talk to--"You cut him off. "Don't," you said forcefully, and you purposefully looked away from him. "I don't need your pity. Or your help. I have Sehun.""I don't pity you, Y/N. I don't think it's possible to pity someone who's willing to bite your head off at first chance." Baekhyun's voice was light, but you were flooded with a feeling of guilt as the two of you neared the teacher's parking lot, and you realized he was taking you to his car.You really were quite mean to him. "Sorry," you muttered, and you didn't say anything else, because cute or not, he deserved to get put in his place a little bit.It was only later, as you lie in bed that night, that you realized your thinking was exactly the same as the thinking that'd gotten you into this mess in the first place. Break my heart. His hands were in your hair and his mouth on yours, and only the fabric of your panties kept you from being completely bare with him. You gasped against his mouth, groaning as his hands dipped past the silken fabric, finding that pearl of nerves in you with no effort. The sensation flooded your lower half, and he pulled away from you, shoving you against the wall as he knelt down, eyes flashing up at you, looking like sin. His hair was rumpled from you running your fingers through it, his body naked and almost too perfect to withstand. He winked up at you, that charming smirk on his lips, and slowly, he looped his fingers in the fabric of your panties and pulled them down. You instinctively went to cover yourself, but he caught your hands, shaking his head at you, his own hands encircling your wrists. He brought your hands to his shoulders, where you kept them, even after he let go, despite your shyness. "I thought I told you that you've got a body worth showing off," he said, and his voice was husky. Your cheeks were red with heat. You looked away from him, and you felt his hands trail up your thighs, his touch a feather-light whisper on your skin, leaving goose-pimples behind in lines. "You've never done this before." It wasn't a question. You said nothing. Suddenly, his hands were hooking behind your thighs, and he was standing, and he was lifting you up and then throwing you onto the mattress, eyes burning dark and deep. You were breathless, gasping for air as his body covered yours, lean and sinuous. You felt every place his skin touched yours like his body was a live wire; you shivered at the sensation as he leaned down and bit at your neck. You felt him smirk against your skin, and he bit you again, harder this time. You yelped. He made a rough noise at the sound, and then he gave a somewhat winded laugh, the only evidence that he was as affected by this as you were. "You're not getting any sleep tonight," he said roughly, and then his mouth was on yours again, and you were kissing, and his hands were all over your body. He reached down and slipped a finger into you again, swirling it around your clit just hard enough to make you whimper against his mouth. You clutched at his arms, not sure if you were trying to make him stop or trying to get him to keep going. Maybe you didn't even know. Without warning, he dipped one finger inside of you, causing you to gasp and squirm. Even when you'd gotten yourself off before, you'd never been brave enough to put anything in your body-- you'd never imagined it'd feel good. But now... He worked the one finger inside of you for only a moment before adding another, and the vaguely pleasant sensation grew stronger, and stronger, and then he was really going to town in you, thrusting his fingers in and out, and you moaned both at how it felt and how wrong it seemed, when he had a perfectly good erection to put to use. Somehow, the wrongness made it feel better. He curled his fingers inside of you, and out of fucking nowhere, a sensation like you'd never experience exploded in your body. "Holy SHIT," you exclaimed, pulling back from his mouth, looking up at him in surprise. That hadn't been an orgasm, right? He didn't explain, just smirked and went back to your neck, trailing kisses down it and to your collarbone as his thumb found your clit. He resumed his pace, pumping his fingers into you, and his thumb rubbed against your clit as he did so. You groaned. "That feels-- so-- so good," you managed after a few times. Your climax was building, faster than it had ever built before, and you were about to scream. "I'm gonna--" You were already coming. You yelled as you came, clutching into his back and leaving nail marks, you were sure. He withdrew his fingers from you and, once you could see again, he made sure to lick them clean as you watched. Your cunt fluttered with heat at the sight. "You shouldn't do that," you said breathlessly, even though the sight had you ready to go. He laughed. "We shouldn't be doing any of this, Y/N," he said, and that's when you really thought about what was happening, who he was. Your stomach flipped as you realized you were fucking your professor. And then you woke up. You jack-knifed up into a sitting position, no idea where you were, who you were, or what century it was. Panicking, you wrestled with the blankets tangled around your legs and looked around wildly, your frantic movements coming to a halt as your eyes processed the sight of Chanyeol sleeping on his side of the room. Oh. Dorm. College. Roommate. Dreaming about fucking your professor. Oh, fuck. This was not good, not good at all. You scowled down at your nether-region, pissed off that you were turned on from the dream, pissed off that you'd had the dream in the first place, just pissed off in general. Baekhyun was attractive, beyond so. And yeah, he appeared to be interested in you, but there were three extremely valid reasons why his looks and his interest didn't matter.One, he was your professor. Your literal professor at your literal college and, no, smart girls just don't go around hopping on their professor's dicks for the hell of it, thank you.Two, he'd blackmailed you into the relationship (could you call it a relationship?) to begin with. You would give him nothing for it, absolutely nothing, and yes, that included sex. No sex.And three--Your phone dinged loudly, once, then twice, then three times. Quickly, you snatched it up, turning your ringer off so you didn't wake Chanyeol. Squinting at the bright screen, you first saw the time, thought who the hell is texting me at one in the morning, and then saw the contact you'd saved just a few hours prior, the second you'd gotten back to your dorm, so you could let him know you were safe per his request.[I can't sleep because I can't get you in that damn dress out of my mind.] - Professor Byun[Sorry if that's too much.] - Professor Byun[You're too much.] - Professor ByunBefore you could process this, more texts came in. You squeezed your thighs together at his words and tried to pretend you weren't doing it. No, you were most certainly not turned on by this. Not even a little bit.[I hope you know I'm gonna have to go jack off to get to sleep tonight. Thanks a lot.] - Professor ByunThere was a once second gap between texts as you gaped at your screen.[Goodnight, Y/N.] - Professor ByunGod fucking damn it. You threw your phone on the carpet and yanked your covers over your head again.You were truly, royally screwed. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You weren't planning on texting Baekhyun back, swear to God, but this homework made no sense. You were staring blankly at it, cursing yourself for zoning out all of the time in his class, and trying not to scream. The prompt was simple enough-- it was the goddamn translation that was the problem. You knew you'd learned the words, but you couldn't find them in your notes, and you were too embarrassed to ask Chanyeol for help."I tried to wait up for you," he'd said sheepishly as the two of you had eaten breakfast together that morning, "but I fell asleep on my textbook. What did you guys do?"You tried to be generic as possible. "Went around town, I guess. Nothing fancy."Okay, that was a blatant lie. The restaurant Baekhyun had taken you to was classier than any you'd ever seen in your life, even on TV, but in an effortless way. The place seemed to ooze charm, and they didn't serve those ridiculous rich-people portions and delicacies (one little caviar on a huge plate with artfully drizzled sauce? Not appealing) but actual restaurant food. When he'd first walked you in, you'd tried to turn around, muttering "nope" and hoping you didn't trip in your haste to get out of the door.But he'd caught your elbow gently, and had ushered you back in, murmuring, "Relax. Relax. Just think about your homework, that I'm sure you still haven't done."You'd glared up at him.But the bastard had been right. So currently, you were glaring at the sheet in question, alone in your dorm (Chanyeol had gone to the library). You'd been trying to work on this goddamn thing for over an hour now with absolutely no luck, and you kept getting distracted besides. Chanyeol had understood that you weren't really in the mood to discuss your date, but maybe if you talked about it, you would stop fucking thinking about it. If so, you needed to share ASAP, because you were pretty sure you were losing your mind.You couldn't get the littlest things out of your head. Like the way he held the door for you. The way he'd smirked no less than three times in three minutes as you tried to cuss him out for calling you "mouse" (and the way you'd sounded like you were squeaking as you did so).It wasn't that you were falling for him. It was that he was stuck in your goddamn brain like a stupid fucking virus, and you had no idea how to cure yourself of him.His eyes had stayed on you all night, roaming your dress and straddling the line between okay-staring and creepy-staring. He'd watched the curve of your lips as you'd sucked on your straw, you were sure, and he'd even gone so far as to tell you, as you nervously rambled about how black wasn't really your color, that you were an idiot-- he was sure every color looked good on you.You remembered (as you shoved your homework away, because face it, at this point it was never going to get done) the way he'd taken your hand after you'd tripped over nothing, refusing to let go because "you'll break your pretty face if I do." And the way he'd teased you as he'd taken you to the campus greenhouse and you'd almost knocked over a flower-pot. "Are you always this klutzy?" He'd asked. "Or is it because of me?"It was because of him, the bastard, but there was no way you were telling him that. He made you too nervous to function.You'd gotten back to your room sometime around twelve, with Chanyeol sleeping and your phone beckoning from where you'd left it on your mattress. Per his request, you'd taken the slip of paper out of your purse and had plugged his number into his phone, letting him know you were home safely.[It's Y/N Y/L/N. I got home safe.] You didn't want to just give your first name. You didn't want to admit that level of familiarity.His text had come almost instantly.[Finally!]Rolling your eyes, you'd labeled his number 'Professor Byun', and you were only half-surprised when more texts came in.[You must walk exceptionally slow.] - Professor Byun[I was wondering if you'd died.] - Professor Byun[Or maybe you fell into a ditch.] - Professor Byun[I'd hate to see what you're like in heels.] - Professor Byun[Actually, no, I'd love to see that.] - Professor ByunYou'd throw your phone on your desk at that, grumbling about fuckboy teachers and bemoaning-- quietly, so you didn't wake Chanyeol up- what your life had come to. All you'd wanted to do was sleep, but of course that hadn't been in the stars. What had been in the stars, however, was a wet dream and some questionable text messages that you still hadn't replied to.Presently, you glared again at your Korean homework and then checked the time on your phone. Oh fuck me, I've been staring at the stupid paper for an hour. That did it. You were texting him. Students asked professors for help all the time, right? If not via phone, then by email. And what was the difference, really, anyway, in this day and age?You took several minutes composing your text.[I need help. I can't do this homework.] - Y/NYou sent it with shaking hands. You halfway didn't expect him to reply, which was why you set your phone down and went to the kitchen for a glass of water as you waited. You eyed yourself in the hallway mirror on the way back and grumbled some more. You had eye bags because of him. You looked terrible with eye bags.After prodding at your under-eyes for a probably unhealthy amount of time, you returned to your room to see your phone lit up."Oh!" You hurried over to it, hoping against hope that he'd just volunteer to help you, no other questions asked.[You really still haven't done it?] - Professor Byun[Do you really hate my class that much?] - Professor ByunYou shut your eyes and shook your head in exasperation. Only he would take it personally.No, you typed, ignoring the way your heart started to speed up. I just zone out a lot, is all.There was a minute of nothing, no typing bubble or anything, and you started to think he'd gotten distracted. Then, the text came in.[Any particular reason why?] - Professor ByunOh, you were so going to smack him.[You're distracting.] - Y/NIt was all you could think to say.Then, you'd gotten the typing bubble, and you moved over to your bed to lay down as the conversation proceeded. You were still so tired.[You're pretty fucking distracting yourself.] - Professor ByunYou felt your cheeks flush crimson just as you heard the dorm door unlock and open."I'm back!" Chanyeol called. You quickly turned the brightness down on your phone so he wouldn't see who you were texting before he came into the room, but when he entered, he still raised his eyebrows at you. "Why are you blushing?""I'm not blushing!" You sounded a little hysterical. Maybe that was why he held his hands up, a disturbingly familiar smirk on his face, and said, "Okay, of course you're not."Your phone buzzed.[Not to be that guy. But you need to stop wearing those clothes to my class. Wear sweatpants or something.] - Professor ByunBefore you could get mad, he added:[I mean, wear what you want. But if you want a competent teacher, you might want to rethink your wardrobe choices.]You were going to ignore the heat that spread below your waist at what he was suggesting. Had he gotten hard in class because of you? Oh now it's on, you thought, and despite yourself, you were already planning the perfect outfit to wear to fuck him over on Monday.Your phone buzzed again.[Skype me.] - Professor Byun[If you want help on your homework, that is.] - Professor ByunYou glanced over at Chanyeol, who was unloading what seemed like a million library books from his backpack.I can't, you typed. My roommate is here. And I look too hideous to leave the dorm.His response was faster than lightning.[You could never be hideous.] - Professor Byun[But I guess if you don't want help...] - Professor Byun[... I have other things to do. Like think about what you look like in heels.] - Professor ByunFrantically, you tried to backtrack.[WAIT. Give me like five minutes to fix my hair and I'll Skype you from the library!] - Y/NYour phone buzzed one last time, the sound ripe with finality.[See you on Monday, Y/N.] - Professor ByunYou could practically hear him laughing.You couldn't fucking go to class like this. Why had you thought it was a good idea? You were so fucking stupid, so goddamn stupid. You always brought all of your suffering on yourself.Only a masochistic idiot would set to work on Sehun's assignment during her lunch break, when she still had a class to go to-- and not just any class, Baekhyun's class. What the hell were you supposed to do, show up crying, puffy-eyed, red-faced? But you couldn't just ditch, not when you were a scholarship student, especially not with him. He'd never let you live it down.You were curled up on your dorm floor, papers strewn around you, most of them almost highlighted in their entirety. Sehun had been right. It was abuse. You were being abused. You were being abused, and all you could think about was the fact that you'd been groomed so well you no longer had any idea what was real. If your parents really were abusing you without you realizing, what else had been going on around you while you slept with your head in the sand?You had no idea how you managed to scrape yourself up off the floor and leave the dorm. You wiped at your eyes and sniffled as you set off towards the languages building, not caring if you were late, so long as you didn't have to enter the classroom still-sobbing.The walk seemed much longer than you remembered. Your body wasn't tired, but your heart was, and all you wanted to do was text Sehun for emotional support, but you couldn't, you had class. Your legs started to shake. No, no, no, you were not having an anxiety attack. You were not showing up to class like this.You wanted to badly to stop in a bathroom once you got to the building to fix yourself, but it seemed you were late as it was, the halls were empty. So you wiped your eyes, sniffled, and pushed your hair back from your face before reaching for the door. With a cold, acid fear tingling in your gut (anxiety! anxiety! anxiety!), you pulled the door open and stepped in.All eyes were on you again, but this time, you wouldn't spill hot coffee on yourself. You bowed your head in apology towards the front of the classroom, refusing to look at him, and then you quickly made your way to the seat.You could hear people whispering, even after you sat down. "... she doesn't like the class, but that doesn't mean...""... isn't she the scholarship student?""... wonder where she gets that attitude from..."You bit your lip. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you told yourself, but it was too late, you were already crying. You covered your mouth with your hand and pulled the hood up on your hoodie, hoping that maybe that would block your face from view. You tried to block out what people were saying as you retrieved your homework. Yes, you'd finally done it-- not that it made any sense, and not that he was still going over it. A quick glance up at the blackboard showed that he was currently teaching vocabulary, so you got your notebook out too, and your favorite pen. You hardly ever used it anymore because it was running out of ink, but you thought you deserved and needed the comfort right now.The rest of class went by without a hitch. You avoided making eye contact with Baekhyun and showing him your puffy eyes, you took your notes, and you even heard some of the people around you redacted what they'd said earlier."... I think she's crying. Do you think someone died?""... shit, now I feel bad.""... do you think she can hear us? I hope not."Yeah, you very well could hear them, but you didn't want to embarrass them (or yourself!) any further by letting them know that. You just sat silently, miserably, praying for your class to end so that you could run back to your dorm and curl up in a ball on your bed and snot-cry some more. Maybe Chanyeol would take pity on you and go buy you some ice cream.When Baekhyun finally dismissed the class, you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders-- at least, until you heard, "Y/N Y/L/N, please stay after class."You sunk into your chair. You considered making a break for it, but you definitely weren't fast enough or coordinated enough to do that without compromising what little dignity you had left. The one good thing, though, was the sympathetic looks you got from a few of the boys in the class as they passed by. One of them even mouthed, Good luck to you before leaving, and shutting the door behind him. Maybe everyone in your class wasn't an asshole, after all.After a small moment of time where you forced yourself to steel your nerves. You glanced up at him, half-expecting him to be standing by your desk again. But no, he was standing at his, leaning back on it as he observed you with unreadable eyes."Come up here," he ordered, and you felt that familiar jolt of concentrated panic lightning through your chest. Was he going to punish you?? You couldn't afford to get in trouble on scholarship.Abandoning your bag, you rushed forwards, saying, "I'm really sorry, I didn't--"He held a hand up to stop you. "I don't care," he said, and your stomach jolted again. He must have realized how he sounded, because he revised, "I don't care about that." With two small steps forward, he was in front of you, and in one swift movement, he lowered your hood from your head, revealing your puffy face. "You've been crying again. Are you alright?"How did he keep noticing these things? Friday night, you'd been almost back to normal, but he'd spotted the difference. And today, you'd been trying to hide, but he'd spotted you nevertheless. Did he really pay that much attention to you? Why?"Y/N." You didn't know what to say. He sighed. "I'm going to go lock the door," he said after a moment, and your heart jumped. "I'm not opening it again until you tell me what's going on."There was no way in hell you were telling him. "Nothing's going--"He locked the door with a loud, pointed snick. He turned back to you, his eyebrows raised as he said, "Nothing's wrong?" You nodded. "Absolutely nothing?" You nodded again, feeling stupid. "Then why the hell are you always crying?"You hardly thought that 'always' was fair. It had only been two times that he had seen you."I'm not--""Y/N." He was by your side again. "It's not because of me, is it?"You couldn't speak for a moment. You hadn't even considered that he would think that, even after he had asked on Friday. That's really what he thought? That was ridiculous. He may have pissed you off, and he may have forced you into something you wanted no part of, but he was pretty decent to you, all things considered. And so far, your grades hadn't suffered, so could you really complain?"Your silence is promising," he muttered, and that propelled you to speak."Professor, no, it's not--" You cut yourself off, shaking your head. "It's not you. You're not really..." You didn't know how to word it. Our coerced relationship and the subsequent blackmail has not yet had a lasting effect on my psyche? He didn't look convinced. "Professor--""Well if it's not me," he didn't sound like he believed it wasn't, "then what's wrong?" You took a step back, shaking your head. All of the words you'd highlighted in the packet were swimming in your mind, announcing themselves and parading around like neon yellow hornets. Controls actions, insulting, gaslighting, threatening. Check, check, check, check. You shook your head again, and again, until you were crying again. "Y/N--""I can't tell you, I can't," you said, and you tried to pretend your voice wasn't cracking. Angrily, you wiped at your eyes. Damn it, I didn't want to cry in front of him. "Try me," he said.You shook your head once more. "It's personal. It's something I'll just talk about with Sehun--"That seemed to set him off. He cursed colorfully and said, "Damn Sehun. I'm asking you because I want to help you. Maybe I'm not a therapist, but I'm not a complete idiot, alright? Let me help you." You bit at your lip again and kept wiping your eyes. He lowered his voice. "Is someone harassing you?" He asked."No," you said. "People don't talk to me much, but they don't outright--""Y/N, that's not--" Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair. "I meant-- is someone harassing you?" Was someone sexually assaulting you. "No, no," you said quickly. Judging by the look in his eyes, you did not want to see what he would do if you told him you were being sexually harassed. "It's nothing at school, it's just--"His eyes flashed. "Family," he said, and it wasn't a question, just a simple statement that gave you pause, made your breath catch.It took you what seemed like an eternity to decide how to respond. Finally, you said, very quietly and without looking at him, "Yeah, family."He looked away from you. "Tell me about it," he commanded, his voice soft.And you did. You told him everything, all about your childhood, about your adolescence, about your teenaged years. Stuff you'd never thought to even tell Sehun was spilling out, coming up out of the cracks in your skin where you crammed all of your secrets. You told him about that one male friend you'd had, the first person to ever get handsy with you-- he'd growled at that. You told him about all the times your father and your mother had fought, had screamed, had raged. You told him everything, about how you weren't allowed to date, about how you'd never been kissed, how you'd never had sex. About how they tracked your phone, which was why you left it behind on your date.He was silent, listening, waiting for you to be done. When you were finally done, you choked on your breath, thinking, Oh God I shouldn't have said all that."Y/N," he said, his voice tense, "what are you doing over your breaks?"My... breaks? Your face was a question mark."Winter break, summer break. Any holiday breaks," Baekhyun supplied. His eyes locked onto yours, and he said, "I don't want you going home to that. So let's figure out a plan. I can get you an internship almost anywhere, where are you interested?"You stared, trying to process what was happening. "I don't..." It was all too nice to think about, but the reality hit you: your parents would want to see you, would want you to come home for one of them. "I can't."His eyes hardened. "Y/N, let me rephrase that," he said, his voice mild and his expression mild but the soul of his being toeing the line. "I am not letting you go home to that. You will be staying with me during breaks until you graduate, or until you manage to emancipate yourself." He walked around to the other side of his desk, opening a drawer and rifling through it to find something in there as you stared, unblinking. "I can get you internships almost anywhere you want. What are you interested in?""I-- I--" You had no idea. You couldn't exactly process what was going on, everything seemed surreal and foggy. Like a nice dream that you'd wake up from any second.Speaking of dreams, you suddenly remembered... You felt him smirk against your skin, and he bit you again, harder this time. You yelped. He made a rough noise at the sound, and then he gave a somewhat winded laugh, the only evidence that he was as affected by this as you were. "You're not getting any sleep tonight," he said roughly, and then his mouth was on yours again, and you were kissing, and his hands were all over your body. He reached down and slipped a finger into you again, swirling it around your clit just hard enough to make you whimper against his mouth. You clutched at his arms, not sure if you were trying to make him stop or trying to get him to keep going. Maybe you didn't even know. You felt your face turn blush-bright scarlet in a fraction of a second. When he looked up from his desk, a small pile of papers in hand, you were blushing like mad, unable to stop thinking about the dream you'd blocked out since it had happened Friday night.He raised an eyebrow at you. "Are you alright?" He asked you for the second time.Honestly? "Not really," you said.He nodded at the honesty, his eyes guarded, and then he handed the pile of papers over. "I want you to go through those this week and see which ones you're interested in. The sooner we apply, the sooner we have you covered." You took the papers wordlessly, trying not to think about the last pile of papers you'd been forcibly handed. "Y/N, I'm serious about this. I'm not letting you back into that environment. I wouldn't be doing my job as--" He broke off and looked away before continuing, "-- my job as your teacher if I didn't make sure you were safe.""But--" You didn't know what to say. It seemed too good to be true. And that blush was still burning in your cheeks. "Professor, I don't think-- I don't know--"Baekhyun stared at you with sharp eyes. "Have you ever known me to take 'no' for an answer, Y/N?" He asked. You shook your head. "Exactly. So don't test me on this. You can stay with me during breaks if they won't let you keep your dorm."Your blushing got worse. "I can't--""I'm not going to..." He struggled to find a word that was semi-appropriate. "Ravish you if that's what you're thinking. Unless," he added, a smirk on his face, "you ask me to, of course."You wanted to shoot back that you would never ask him to, but then you remembered your dream and thought it was best that you kept your stupid mouth shut. "Thank you," you said softly instead.He didn't speak for a moment, for so long that you started to wonder if you should go or maybe say something else. Then, he said, "Come here" in a low, tempting voice.No! You thought at yourself as you went around to his side of the desk. Not tempting! Repulsive! Gross! I thought we established that you weren't giving him anything?But he wasn't anything like you'd thought, really. He was cocky for sure, but he'd just essentially offered to take you in just because your family was shit. Despite only having known you for a few weeks.You stopped a few feet away from him. He shook his head and said, "Closer." You obeyed. "Closer." You moved again, and again, until the two of you were merely inches apart. You stared up at him, and you noticed for the first time how good he smelled, how sweet his face truly was when he wasn't smirking, how he was even more handsome than you'd already thought."Y/N," he said softly, and he wasn't touching you, but you knew he was going to. Your heart pounded so fast in your chest that it was almost painful. You closed your eyes, waiting, ready, and then you felt his lips press against your forehead. "Someday I'll be your first kiss," he whispered against your skin, and you felt butterflies ghosting in your lungs. "But not today, baby. Not like this."You felt him move away from you, but you kept your eyes closed. You didn't think you were able to move, your entire body was still frozen."Open your eyes, Y/N," Baekhyun said, his voice quiet. You found that you could do it when he said so. You looked up at him again, and he smiled a half-smile. "Go get some rest," he said gently, and he led you over to your desk so you could collect your stuff as he unlocked the door. You almost wanted to argue, wanted to stay, but there was no reason to.He was, after all, your professor.And good girls listen to their professors. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The first time you'd ever come to Oh Sehun's office, you'd been about sixteen years old, small and shy and absolutely terrified to be left alone with the man who called himself a "therapist."What, exactly, was a therapist supposed to be? You'd thought. You didn't want to spill all of your secrets to a man-- a man-- you didn't even know. You didn't want to talk to him. And by the look on his face, he didn't want to talk to you either.You'd begged your parents to take you back home, but they'd only snapped at you about how selfish you were being. Then, you'd shut down, and just as your eyes had sunk to the floor, Sehun had called you into his room. Into the abyss I go, you'd thought dramatically, and you'd gathered your notebook in your arms and had entered the office that would become your safe haven.Presently, you stared at the man in question, your heart hurting, but not because of him. "Do you remember the first time we met?" You asked quietly. He nodded, his eyes hesitant. You could tell he didn't know where you were going with this. "I thought you hated me."At that, he rolled his eyes. "I think that's just the way my face is," he said. You laughed a little, tiny giggles fighting against the strain wrapped around you, the shroud that suffocated you. You'd thrown the stack of papers at his lap the second he'd sat down, and then the two of you had dissolved into silence. You knew he could see all of the highlighting. You knew. And he got that look on his face, that one that made his beautiful features so cold, and you'd been instantly reminded of the first time the two of you had met."My name is Oh Sehun. You can call me Sehun, that's my first name," he'd said.Fat chance, you'd thought. No way were you calling this intimidating man by his first name. "I, uh--""You're Y/N," he'd supplied. You'd nodded, cheeks heating. He was really attractive. And scary. God damn it.Sehun had put his clipboard down on the carpet by his feet. "Y/N, would you like to tell me why your parents brought you here?" He'd asked after a moment.And you'd snorted. "Because they hate me," you'd said.His features had softened, to your surprise. "I'm sure your parents don't hate you, Y/N."So maybe they didn't hate you. But if that pile of highlighted papers was any indication, they didn't like you that much either. Or themselves, for that matter.You sighed and closed your eyes, turning to bury your face in the crook of the couch where the arm met the back. "I'm so tired," you mumbled. "Just, so fucking tired of all this. You were right. Of course you were right." You bit at your lip, not too hard, but hard enough to make you inwardly flinch. "I'm a goddamn abuse victim."Sehun was silent for a moment. "I could give you a bullshit speech about how being a victim is only a state of mind, or tell you that you're not a victim but a survivor," he started, "but that's exactly what it would be. Bullshit. People always try to put a positive twist on abuse. Like, 'you wouldn't be the person you are today without it.' But I'm not going to do that to you."You breathed against the couch for a few moments. "Why?" You asked, your voice muffled."Because, like I said. It's bullshit," said Sehun easily.You removed your face from the crook of the couch and eyed him critically. "Are you telling me that life sucks and then I die?"He didn't laugh. "I'm telling you that I'm not going to lie to you and try to make this into something positive. You're an abuse victim. Yes, you've survived. But just barely." You nodded. For some reason, that validation was exactly what you needed to hear.You don't think you would have been able to bear it if he'd called you a survivor like he'd said, or if he'd told you that you were stronger because of the abuse, or anything stupid like that. You'd always been strong, always been defiant and tenacious and fierce.Abuse did not make a person. It could only break them."Someone suggested to me," you started carefully, "that I get an internship over my breaks. So that I won't have to see my family as much."Sehun raised his eyebrows. "That's a great idea, actually." Don't ask me who came up with it. I'm shit at lying. "Was there anywhere in particular where you were interested?"Your mind went through the stack of papers Baekhyun had given you the other day. There'd been internships for almost everything you could imagine, but the few that had stuck with you had been the ones about writing. There'd even been small journalism gig at one of your favorite magazines. You knew that that meant, if hired, you'd probably just be getting everyone coffee and whatnot, but it was still exciting to think that you had the opportunity to apply to a scholarship at the magazine you'd been reading since you were a kid.And it was all thanks to Baekhyun.Not that you could say that. But you still didn't want to lie to Sehun, so you said, "There are a couple of journalism ones that I've found that look really cool."He nodded. "Just make sure you apply as soon as you can," he said. "That way more positions are open, and you have a better chance of getting one. Do you need help with a resume?"You shook your head. "I've got one already, thanks." Scholarship students tended to have their accomplishments and service at the ready. How else were you going to get the big bucks?You glanced down at your phone and grimaced. Your time was almost up already. And although Sehun had never once rushed you out of his office, no matter how late you ran over, it was always a special event when you went into the waiting room and had to deal with the glares of the people you'd held up. No, thank you. "Is there anything else you want to tell me before I go?" You asked with a sigh.He stood. "Yes, actually," he said, and he fixed his eyes on you. "Have some fun." ... huh? "Have... fun?" You asked dubiously. Even you weren't sure why you were so confused, as it wasn't like Sehun had never before expressed concern over your lack of lightheartedness. It wasn't even the first time he'd told you to get out more. But just 'have fun'?Was it sad that you had no idea how to do that?Sehun laughed a little at the look on your face. "You'll figure it out," he said.You doubted it. "Isn't there another stack of traumatizing papers I could read instead?" You hedged, only half-way joking, hand on his office doorknob.He shook his head. "Goodbye, Y/N," he'd said, humor in his voice. He was almost... cocky.You groaned and flung yourself out of the room, trying not to huff as you stalked past the staring patients. You had enough cocky bastards in your life, thank you very much.You heard the text tones go off as you drove, but you weren't stupid enough to check your phone while you were driving. Nobody ever texts me, you thought. Only Chanyeol, Sehun, and your parents... and since Chanyeol was out on a date, and you'd just left Sehun's, that left--Aw, fuck.You felt those three little dings weigh on you like Atlas' sky the entire drive back to your dorm. You turned on the radio in an attempt to distract yourself, but the flashy beats and vapid lyrics did nothing. I wonder what happened. Did I do something wrong? Your breath started to hitch in your chest. I did something wrong. I must have done something wrong. They found out about the abuse thing. Oh God, now you were almost hyperventilating. You fought to keep your hands steady on the wheel. They found out that I think they're abusive and they're going to kill me, literally kill me.A loud honk snapped you out of your spiral of panic. You'd started to swerve into the wrong lane, which was thankfully empty, and the car behind you had warned you. Your heart flipped several times in your chest as you righted yourself. I'm a disaster. I'm a disaster.You couldn't drive like this. You flicked your blinkers and pulled over to the shoulder, carefully positioning your car so that you were in no way in the stream of traffic.Then, you screamed.Just screamed. This isn't fair! was what you would have said, had you been capable of producing words. All you could manage was a loud, indignant yell-- wordless yet filled with rage and madness.God damn it! You slammed on your steering wheel with the palms of your hands again and again and again, until they were bright red and you finally stopped shaking. You stopped screaming abruptly, your yells cutting off like a cliff's edge as you curled in on yourself, crumpling and deflating."God damn it," you whispered, and then you reached in your bag for your phone. You'd been right: there were three missed texts, and they were all from your parents.[How's the Korean work going, honey?] - MomYour nostrils flared. You weren't her 'honey.' And how dare she act all lovey-dovey when, first and foremost, yeah, she was abusing you, and also, she was just trying to pry info about your grades out of you?There was another text. [You'd tell me if you met any boys, right? Your father and I are worried that you're having trouble in class because you have a boyfriend. You know you're not allowed to date, Y/N. Your father would have a heart attack if he found out you'd went behind his back.] - MomThere it was. The classic guilting. Too bad for her, you weren't in the mood to let it work.First of all, it was, quite frankly, none of their damn business who you were dating or if you were dating at all. Their contribution to your college tuition was never asked for-- you'd have been happy to go into debt if it meant you were free-- so there was no way in hell you'd let them hold that over your head in order to control you.Second of all, even if your father had a heart attack, that was more his fault than yours. Maybe heart attacks are what happen when you realize you don't own everything in the universe.And third of all, you weren't even doing poorly in Korean. You were above average actually-- your parents just expected that you were such a fuck-up that you were failing it, with no sound evidence to back the hypothesis up!The last text was, of course, from your father.[No boys.] - DadCharming.With an angry huff, you stuffed your phone in your bag, flipped off your blinkers and turned on your turn signal. You were back on the road in seconds, driving away, driving to your dorm, the only home you had ever really had.You finished blow-drying your hair with a forced enthusiasm that made the reflection of your grimace near-terrifying. You were a sound believer in "fake it till you make it", so that was just what you were doing. You didn't know how to have fun? Well, fake it, bitch. Shower. Put on makeup. Straighten your hair.You padded out of your bathroom to search for your favorite jeans. You weren't sure exactly where you were planning on going. The library? Books were fun. You especially liked the ones in the library because the librarian, Janice, was really sweet. Y/N. You could just hear Sehun's scathing tone, and you scowled at it. Spending your Friday night with Janice the librarian is not fun.Yeah, it was Friday. Thursday had seen one of Sehun's clients in an emergency state, so that meant your standing Thursday appointment had been pushed back to Friday, which you really didn't mind, except that it meant you couldn't procrastinate his latest assignment. Fridays were, like, known for their fun-ness. Fun-ness? Oh my god. You were absolutely pathetic.Still scowling, you tugged on your jeans, threw on a nice blouse, and then slid your feet into flats. Nothing special, but nothing embarrassing either. You thought you looked decent as you tucked your hair behind your ears while checking yourself in the mirror. "Now or never," you said to your reflection, and then, bag on your shoulder, you forced yourself out of the dorm.The walk to the library wasn't a long one, necessarily; it required that you pass the science center, and then the languages building, where you had class with Baekhyun. You took the walk as a welcome, silent reprieve from all of the things that badgered at you. You liked going for walks. Maybe walks counted as fun?You started to walk past the languages building, but then you stopped. Maybe Baekhyun could help you figure out what to do about your parents thinking you were failing his class. No matter how many times you told them, they never believed you, even when you showed them your grade reports. He was your professor, after all...You took a deep breath and changed course. You stalked up to the languages building, heart throbbing in your throat. Stop that, you thought at it. I'm just seeing if he's in his office so I can ask him a damn question.You couldn't remember his office hours, and you didn't want to fish your phone out of your bag to text him to ask. You thought for a second that maybe you should warn him you were coming, but then you thought, stupid, a normal student wouldn't. And you just want to be a normal student to him, no matter what he says, remember?You remembered.You made your way through the building, getting more and more nervous the closer you got to the wing that held the professor's offices. It was separate from the classrooms, and you'd never been before, but you'd had it pointed out to you during orientation. You took several wrong turns, but eventually you found a hallway full of closed doors with "So and So-- XYZ Professor" plaques on them, and you figured you were in the right place.It took another minute of walking, but you found Baekhyun's office at the end of the long hallway. The door was ajar, and you could see light coming out of it. Hesitantly, you made your way over, and you knocked on the doorframe."Come in," he said from inside. To your surprise, relief didn't wash over you-- hadn't you just been worried that he wouldn't be there? Still, you weren't going to just stand there like an idiot, so you pushed the door in and stepped into his office.Your heart squeezed.He looked so... soft. His hair was rumpled, and he had glasses on as he reviewed an important-looking stack of papers. He looked up at you with surprise and a half-smile on his lips, what looked like a pure smile, not that cocky smirk he usually wore on his handsome face. You noticed that his tie was undone, hanging around his neck, loose, and his shirt was undone a few buttons, revealing a white undershirt and a smooth neck that looked extremely...Kissable.Before you even knew what you were doing-- far before you could think to close the door, even-- you were walking around his desk, sitting on his lap, and kissing him as as strongly as you could.You didn't necessarily know what you were doing, but he did, and it only took him a few seconds to recover from the shock and kiss you back. His hands went up to your head, holding you in place as he pecked a million little kisses on your lips, threading through your hair as he pulled you to him, close, closer, and his lips started to bruise against yours, strong again, hard enough to make the kisses sting. But oh God, did it feel good.You moaned, and as you opened your mouth, he took it as permission, and you were dying, electrified, oh God...You made a noise and scooted closer to his torso, your hands running over his chest, your mouth fighting back against him like the two of you liked to argue. You remembered all the times you'd called him a bastard, and suddenly, you wanted to kiss away every single one of them. Let me help you. His voice was in your head, his tongue in your mouth, his hands sliding down to your hips."Y/N," he said against your mouth, his voice breathy. "What the hell are you doing."He didn't quite manage to make it into a question, which was just as well, because you couldn't quite manage an answer. You kissed him again, your lips brushing over his, sending sparks down your spine and into your gut, where they sizzled and grew into an arousal that you couldn't deny. Hell, you couldn't deny his either-- you were sitting on it."'M not sure," you admitted. "I just need..."His hands were on your shoulders all of the sudden, and he was pushing you back, not roughly, but firmly. His eyes met yours, and you saw that his glasses were askew. Your heart thumped in protest at how cute it looked."Did something happen?" He asked you, his deep eyes concerned.Why was he asking that? "No," you lied. He made a face and went to push you off of him, so you quickly changed your tune. "Alright, yes. My parents were just..." You trailed off. He was your professor. Even with the conversation you'd already had and the way he'd insisted you come to him with any other problems, you didn't think he wanted to hear about your fucked up family life any more. Especially not when he was half-hard."Your parents were just...?"He wasn't going to keep kissing you, was he?With a sigh, you slid off of him, straightening your blouse and feeling yourself deflate once again. The high of kissing him was wearing off, and all of the sudden you were mortified."They were just texting me," you mumbled, staring at the floor with red cheeks. God, what had come over you? You'd kissed your professor. Not in a wet dream, not in a fantasy-- in real life! Who does that?Baekhyun's hand shot out to take yours. His hand was warm and soft, his fingers long as they weaved through yours. "Texting you about what?"Your cheeks were still burning, even though he was holding your hand. Maybe because of it."They were just being themselves. And it triggered me. And then I thought I could come here and have you say something to them about the fact that I'm not actually failing Korean like they think I am, and they'd maybe get off of my case a little. But I guess now that'd be really weird, considering I just threw myself at you, and--" Man, the door was looking pretty inviting. "I think I'll just g--"Baekhyun tugged on your hand. "Don't go," he said. "Look at me."You really didn't feel like arguing, so you did. His lips were pink from kissing. Your heart fluttered. He smirked. "You're welcome to throw yourself at me any time," he said lowly. He let his eyes trail over your body in a long, obvious once-over, and he smirked even more. "You look beautiful, by the way. You got a hot date?"At that, he stood, his eyes sparkling, like he knew what you were going to say next. "Just with you, Professor," you said, your cheeks still red. He kissed the tip of your nose."That's my girl," he said, and without another glance at his paperwork, he grabbed your hand and led you from his office. You followed, a mantra playing in your head. But this time, instead of break my heart, it was: that's my girl. You caught yourself smiling.Idiot, you heard that practical voice in your head say, but you squashed it down, for the sake of having fun. Yes, for the sake of having fun, you let Baekhyun lead you from the building and into the wild night. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You had no idea what'd come over you. Why were you smiling when you should be frowning, scowling? Why were you getting into Baekhyun's car when you should be getting literally anywhere else? What the hell was wrong with you?You weren't the kind of girl who did things with her professor; you weren't the kind of girl to grab someone and kiss them without a warning, either. So what the heck gives? The voice of practicality was yammering in your head as you slid into the passenger's seat of Baekhyun's sedan. It wasn't flashy, which surprised you (with his attitude? Please!) but sleek and expensive-looking. You didn't get a good look at the brand because you didn't want to look like you were looking (if that even made sense). Baekhyun closed your door behind you, having gotten it for you in the first place. You were still blushing. Why was he being a gentleman? Were the two of you just acting completely out of character tonight?You couldn't bring yourself to sober up, even as you were left alone in the car for the few seconds it took for him to get to the driver's side. Get a grip, that tiny, pesky voice snapped at you. Apologize and then book it.But you didn't want to apologize, and you most certainly did not want to book it. You... wanted to be with him. Wanted to touch him again, kiss him again, see exactly what those songs on the radio were always singing about. Was he thinking the same thing you were? You didn't ask where he was driving you as he went, not as he pulled out of the parking lot, not as he pulled away from the university, not even as he took the two of you on the highway. You should have likely felt uncomfortable-- or, by God, even a little bit anxious, but all of the sudden, you just didn't. You looked over at him as he drove, and you shivered. He'd taken his glasses off to drive-- they were reading glasses, then?-- and you could see his face better, could see where his lips were the slightest bit swollen from kissing you. You shivered again."Are you cold?" He asked, glancing over in concern.You shook your head. "No," you said, your voice quiet, but unashamed.He grinned.He took you to the tallest building in the city, asking, "Are you afraid of heights?" before taking your hand and leading you inside as you stammered, "No." He led you past the front desk, where both the guard and the secretary waved their hellos at him. Your brow furrowed. How did he know them? You didn't ask.Baekhyun ushered you to the center of the lobby, where a noble structure encased the elevator shaft, lined with gold-leaf and sharp cedar wood. It, like the rest of the building, was very expensive-looking. He pressed the 'up' button lightly, and the structure released a pleasing ding and admitted the two of you into its belly. As the doors slid open, you felt your stomach tingle, and you knew, you knew. You knew.The second the elevator doors closed, you were on each other once more, and this time he wasn't pushing you away, not at all, not in the slightest. You pulled the tails of his dress shirt out of his pants and slid your hands under his shirt, over his abs-- and holy hell, did he have abs, you gasped against his mouth. He smirked against your lips and murmured, between kisses, "Something you like?"You kissed him harder, determined to kiss that damn smirk off of his face. He was so cocky, so cocky, but damn it, he had every reason to be. You opened your lips for him, and at that, he grabbed your upper arms and shoved you against the wall, pinning you against it as he took the opportunity, as his tongue made love with yours, and holy holy hell, you were on fire, you'd never been so turned on in your life--The elevator dinged as the doors opened once more. The two of you sprang apart as if you'd been struck by lightning. You saw out of the doors that you were on a completely different floor. You didn't remember him pressing any buttons."Come on," he said, his voice low, and he extended his hand for you to take. With a nod, you took his hand and followed again, allowed him to lead you out of the elevator and to the right, towards a grey-painted steel door, out of place in the classy building.Where the hell was he taking you? Was he about to murder you?As if he could hear your thoughts, he said, "Trust me, Y/N," his voice rich and soft.The two of you traveled behind the door, which held a staircase leading only up. He looked over at you with a grin, and then the two of you set up several flights of stairs. Just when you were about to lose your mind wondering what was going on, you reached the top, and he let go of your hand and pushed the door at the top open.You were on the roof.Looking back on it, you thought, you should have really figured out you were going there. Up, up, and up, in the tallest building in the city? With the most extra boy on the planet? There should have been no question. But you were a little preoccupied--You were still a little preoccupied.You reached for him, dazzled by the endless sunset stretching around you, yes, but even more dazzled by the way he looked in it.You'd never seen someone so beautiful. It almost hurt, how pretty he was, how sexy he was. You reached for him, but he sat down on the rooftop and patted the space next to him for you to sit. You hurried to oblige, thinking that if you were good, he'd kiss you again.He didn't kiss you again. At least, not right away."Tell me, Y/N," he said simply, and he looked at you with lidded eyes, the only evidence you had that he was just as affected by your kisses as you were by his."Tell you what?" You asked, painfully aware of how dumb your voice sounded compared to his musical one."Tell me why you kissed me." His eyes held yours. He seemed to hesitate. You waited for him to say something else, but that, apparently, was it.You stared at him for several seconds before you felt a burning blush fire up in your cheeks, and you looked away."I don't know," you said, mumbled. You were embarrassed. You felt like he was reprimanding you. "Sorry for it."He made a noise. You looked over at him again. "Don't be sorry. I'm just..." He let out a deep sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm just worried about you, is all."He was worried about you? You went to say, don't be, but instead you asked, "Why?"His eyes flitted to yours. They were dark and deep, but beautiful, and kind. You'd seen him wear many expressions in the short time you'd known him, but you'd never quite seen him look kind, until then. Softly, he said, "You said you'd tried to kill yourself. I just want to make sure you're safe, that you're not doing something with me just because you're upset. I want to know if you're not okay. Always."You stared.When had you said that? How did he know that? You weren't exactly shouting your old failed suicide attempt from the rooftops, now were you? Not even Chanyeol knew about it, and you'd told him all about your parents and other important things. Then, you remembered: "How long have you been seeing Sehun?" "A few years." "Are you seeing him for any particular reason?" “I tried to kill myself." You had told him about it. But you'd forgotten-- you'd gotten interrupted after that anyway, and besides, the hadn't even flinched. You hadn't thought he'd cared.You laughed. "Seriously?" He cared? He cared. God. Why were you laughing. Stop. Laughing.He was looking at you now with a little more than concern. You laughed harder, and then you felt something wet on your face. You reached up to touch your cheek and your hand came away wet; you were crying.He reached for you, and you let him take your hand again. Your laughter died in your throat.Okay. So. What the fuck was that?You couldn't stop shaking your head. "I can't believe..." You couldn't believe that he cared. Someone cared whether you lived or died, aside from Sehun. What the hell?"You can't believe I care?" His voice was sort of... hurt. Oh no. You realized a little too late that you were coming across all wrong."No, I-- I just, can't believe that you care, because I can't believe..." you swallowed. "Well. I can't believe anyone cares. Much less my Korean professor."At that, he definitely flinched. "Am I really just a professor to you?"Again, you back-tracked. "Do you think I slip all of my professors the tongue?" You were hoping for a playful tone. When he cracked a smile, you figured you'd succeeded."Y/N, of course I care," he said still. You shifted uncomfortably. You'd been half-way hoping that the topic had been changed, but no, it seemed the two of you were going there. "I'd care even if we weren't... whatever we are." Whatever we are. You tried not to grimace. Oh fuck me, are we going to have the DTR talk? You contemplated pitching yourself off of the building. "Baekhyun. I'm supposed to be having fun right now. Sehun told me so."Baekhyun was silent for a moment. Then--"Well, first of all, Sehun's an ass, so ignore everything he says." You were 99% sure he was joking. "And second of all, I am loads of fun." That, you were sure, was serious. "And third, that's the first time you've ever said my name." For some reason, your heart caught at the realization. He was right. You'd never said his name before. You'd only ever before addressed him as 'Professor' or 'Professor Byun' or 'Hey, you asshole!'.You didn't know what to say. You went to say something witty, but all that came out was, again, his name. Out of nowhere, you asked, "Baekhyun... why me?"He seemed to understand what you meant immediately. He shook his head. "I don't know," he said at first, and you started to wither, but then he said: "I mean. There are a million valid reasons to pick you to break my heart. That's what you're talking about, right?" You nodded. "Well. When I first walked in, I felt like I got punched in the face. You were so beautiful."At that, you scoffed."I'm serious, Y/N. I wanted to ask for your number right then and there, but I was afraid I'd bother you. You were clearly working on something." His voice had taken on a sort of narrative tone; it sounded like he was reciting some sort of fairy tale, but no, he was doing something more: he was letting you into his mind. "I tried to mind my own business, but I'd forgotten my phone in my car, anyway. I looked over at what you were working on, and I saw it: you were doing homework, very well, might I add-- and for my class."There, you had to interrupt. "Shouldn't that have been a reason not to pick me?"He laughed at that. "Yes, it should've." His eyes were dancing. He wrapped an arm around you, and you were surprised at how strong he seemed. He tugged you closer to him, so that your bodies were side by side, touching, and he leaned over and murmured in your ear, "But it only made you that much more tempting."You swallowed at the tone of his voice. "And your other reasons?" You asked, hoping he wouldn't hear the weakness of your voice."Other than smart, and beautiful?" He nuzzled the skin below your ear, and you felt your stomach jump, leap, soar. "Hmm." He pretended to think. "Well. You know Sehun. He's one of my best friends." Quick, he nipped at your earlobe, and to your surprise, you let out a little breathy noise. What the hell, you liked being bitten, now?Or did you just like anything... so long as he was the one doing it?Girl, you are in so deep, that logical voice said, and you could picture a mini you shaking your head."And?" You prompted, breathlessly."You've got fire," he said. He turned towards you, so both of you were sitting cross-legged. He took your hands in his and looked in your eyes. "You called me a bastard about a hundred times. You threw a fit at me for trying to get you to date me."That is not how I remember it. But you let him talk."You're broken," he said simply, then, looking into your eyes, "but you try so hard to cover it up. You're brilliant, still, somehow, with everything going on in your life. I just... I'm astounded, how someone can be so broken and still shine so brightly."You felt tears start to sting in your eyes. "I don't shine," you said, but even before you were done, he was shaking his head."Yes, you do," he said firmly. You wanted to look away from him, but something about the set of his jaw, the glint in his eyes, made that impossible. "Y/N. You want to hear my last reason?"Your breath caught. You nodded, expecting him to say something serious again, but instead he said, "You're super fucking sexy."You burst into laughter, but it was a burning kind of laughter, a flattered laughter, a disbelieving yet yearning laughter. Here was this gorgeous man, telling you you were sexy. You, the virgin. You, who had never kissed anyone before today.Sexy?"Sexy," he reaffirmed, and then he crashed his lips into yours.You reciprocated passionately. You didn't know how it happened, exactly, but soon the two of you were laying on the rooftop, him atop you, his hands trailing down your body, exploring every curve and edge, tracing patterns on your hipbones and dipping into the waistband of your jeans, making heat bloom in your core. You gasped when you felt his fingers touch your clit for the first time, and he smirked above you but said nothing. He said everything with his hands.He showed you how sexy he thought you were when he made you come, not one but two times on the rooftop, his fingers searching and teasing, breaking you down until you were a moaning, crying mess beneath him. That was, until he pulled your jeans down and used his tongue on you-- there were orgasms three and four, from his tongue and fingers alone. You felt him exploring you, kissing you, and it was all you could do to thread your fingers in his hair and whimper feebly as you felt things you had never before gotten yourself to feel.You'd touched yourself before, yes, but you'd never felt anything so good."B-Baekhyun," you moaned, and he pulled back, causing you to whimper. He grinned up at you."I like it when you say my name like that," he'd said, and then he'd kept going.Now, the two of you laid side by side, staring up at the stars. Your entire body was screaming from pleasure, worn out from coming so many times but still, strangely, ready to go. You'd offered to try to take care of Baekhyun in return, but he'd denied you. "Not today, baby," he'd said, sounding very much like he had back in his classroom, when you'd almost kissed him. "I'm not fucking you for the first time on a rooftop."The two of you were holding hands. He asked you a million little questions, about the smallest things, but you found that his interest flattered you and that the cadence of your intertwining voices was calming. So you told him your favorite color, favorite CD, favorite number-- things like that. He took all of your answers and then more, more, always more-- he always wanted to know more.You didn't know how long the two of you talked for. You only realized how long you'd been there when the sky started to lighten."Baek, oh my god, it's sunrise," you said, sitting up in wonder.He'd followed, looking around. Then, he smiled the most glorious smile you'd ever seen, looking out over the city, as beautiful as ever. Your heart hurt. Break my heart. Even once you'd finally crawled into your bed, all you could feel were his hands on your body. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You weren't exactly sure what the goddamn protocol was for students heading to class after getting eaten out by their professor, but you were pretty sure it didn't involve showing up in sweatpants. Too bad for you, the universe was not and had never been on your side.Your battered, second-hand Juicys were more than mortifying, but you'd been so tired when you'd gotten out of bed that Monday, despite sleeping off your all-nighter all weekend long. You'd gone to Professor Asshole's class in sweats, no big deal, and had figured you'd have a chance to make yourself decent before Baekhyun's class during lunch break. No dice. Asshole had assigned a gi-huge-ic project due next class, which was so unreasonably soon that you'd spent all lunch break working on it, Baekhyun out of your mind completely.And now it was too late to change.You sunk low in your seat, early for once, sitting with the other students waiting for Baekhyun to arrive. You expected to just get neglected as you were every other day-- no one ever talked to you-- socially awkward, remember?-- but then a very cute, very not-a-figment-of-your-overactive-imagination guy showed up at your desk. You blinked a few times, realizing he'd said 'hi' and that he was also the same guy who'd wished you luck the other day when Baekhyun had made you stay after class.He was cute. Did you already mention that?"Hi!" You said. Oh God, you sounded too perky. Like Flo from Progressive on steroids. 'Roid rage Flo. Oh my God why are you thinking about Flo from Progressive when a cute boy is trying to speak to you? "It's Y/N, right?" The boy asked, seemingly undeterred by your Flo voice. Maybe it hadn't been as bad as you thought? Either way, he pointed at the usually empty seat beside you and asked, "Can I sit here?"... what? "Um, yeah. Yeah!" Why did you have to say it twice?? "Yes."He smiled at you. "My name's Yixing. Nice to meet you, Y/N. You're the scholarship girl, right?" You nodded helplessly. "Wow. You must be, like, a genius or something. Maybe you can help tutor me." You were pretty sure he was joking. "So, um, if you don't mind me asking: what exactly did you do to Professor Byun to make him hate you so much?" At the look on your face, he quickly added, "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."You shook your head. "No, I just..." It's just that, he really doesn't dislike me, he got me off like four times on Friday and asked me what my favorite movies were while we spooned until sunrise. "I'm always late, I guess."He laughed at that. "You are." He looked like he was going to say more when Baekhyun walked into the room, apologizing for his tardiness to his class. Yixing straightened in his desk and pulled out his notebook, completely innocent and harmless. But when Baekhyun's eyes slid over to your seat, they slid right past you and locked on him, then on your blush, then on him again. Well. At least he hasn't noticed my sweatpants. You looked over at Yixing to see if he'd noticed. He shifted uncomfortably. Shit. You eyed Baekhyun, hoping to telepathically tell him to stop glaring at the nice boy who didn't care that you sounded like Flo from Progressive."Y/N Y/L/N." His voice was like a wave over the already-silent classroom. You knew what was coming. "Come see me after class."You sunk even lower in your seat. Beside you, Yixing shook his head. "Do you want me to say something to the dean about him?" He asked quietly once Baek had turned his back and had started writing on the board. "I mean, you weren't even late this time. You didn't even do anything wrong."You shook your head. "Try telling him that," you grumbled. Yixing gave a sympathetic nod before returning to his notes, and that was that.You were well and truly screwed.The door seemed to slam behind Yixing, the last to leave the room. "I can wait outside of the door if you want," he'd offered. "That way, he can't take too long."You'd shaken your head. "It's fine." You didn't want Yixing to hear... whatever it was Baekhyun had to say.And now you were sitting at your desk, in sweatpants, in trouble with your Korean professor who was also your semi-boyfriend. And you weren't exactly sure why.Baekhyun crossed his arms. "Come up to my desk, Y/N," he said flatly. You felt your cheeks burn. You felt major deja vu but didn't think it was the time to comment.You averted your eyes from him. "I don't want to, " you mumbled, looking at the floor. He was silent, and you pictured him up there, fuming, mad at you for God knew why. This was it. He was done with you. You should have expected it from the start-- he was too attractive, too charming. Of course, even if he'd always wanted you to break his heart, it had always been bound to be the other way around. He would break yours, and he would do it right now."Y/N." His soft voice came from right beside you. You jumped and looked up at him, rising to your feet, clutching worriedly at your jacket zipper for something to fidget with. Oh God. Here it comes, you thought. "Baby, look at me," he said.You didn't know what else to do, so you obeyed. "Why were you flirting with Yixing?"Your jaw dropped. Dropped. "Baek, are you... jealous?" you asked incredulously. It seemed impossible-- I mean, he's a fucking masterpiece, and I'm... I'm... But he said nothing. "Oh my God, are you serious right now? Like. Serious?"You felt a grin breaking out on your face. He pouted."It's not funny!" He said, but you were shaking your head, laughing now. This gorgeous, model-like boy was jealous that your classmate had talked to you. Was this real life?"It's hysterical," you said."Is not." He insisted, and he grabbed your hand. "Look at you, can you blame me? You're the cutest. Someone's gonna come along and steal you away someday. I was thinking about it all weekend. How pretty you are. How it's impossible that you've never dated anyone. Have you really never dated anyone?"You shook your head. "Have you met me?" Ignoring all of the stuff about you being beautiful, which was bullshit, you were still the most socially awkward person to ever live. "Of course I haven't. Look at me," you said, gesturing to your sweatpants.At that, Baekhyun made a face. "What's that supposed to mean?"Was he really going to make you detail all of your flaws? You shifted uncomfortably. "Well. First off, Baek, I'm wearing sweatpants. Second-hand sweatpants. With holes in the hems. Really glamorous, huh? Makes all the boys swoon." He made a face at your attitude."Sweatpants are just clothes," he said. "You can change into a dress in a second and make any guy lose his mind, I promise. And for the record, you look good in whatever you wear."Man, he was either out of his mind or pranking you.You shook your head again. "That's not even true," you said. "I'm-- well, I'm subpar, to put it nicely. Really. Look at me, Baek. I mean--" You inhaled. "I mean, I'm-- I'm so pathetic I'm seeking validation from my goddamn professor."His eyes flashed. "Stop calling me that," he said, and his voice wasn't harsh, but it was stern. "And you are not pathetic. Or subpar. I told you, you're beautiful. Beyond beautiful."You closed your eyes. "I'm sorry about Yixing," you said quietly. "I mean. Sorry that you thought we were flirting. I didn't mean for it to look like that. He's just a nice guy, alright?"When you opened your eyes, he was looking at you, all traces of frustration gone from earlier, his eyes filled only with concern and what could only be described as affection. Affection. For you."I'm sorry for getting jealous," he muttered, and he was blushing a bit. Suddenly overtaken by emotion, you leaned over your desk and kissed him once, softly. He kissed you back and then pulled away, smirking. "I should've known better. He's not as hot as me."Baek grinned at you before dancing away, idiot that he was. But you couldn't help but smile.The rest of the week passed slowly, slowly. Time seemed to move like it knew that you were anticipating what would happen on the upcoming Friday. The two of you hadn't discussed anything, but it seemed an unspoken agreement that you had a date on Friday night.But when Friday night finally arrived, you sat around in your dorm room for hours, alone. Chanyeol had gone out to catch up with a friend last minute, telling you not to wait up, leaving you sitting on your bed, desolate, thinking that maybe you were a dork and unspoken plans equaled no plans in Baekhyun's mind.You stewed that way for several hours, before the texts started to arrive.[Baby I'm sorry we couldn't do anything tonight. I wanted to take you out but something came up.] - Professor ByunYour face broke into a smile the second you read his text. Hell yeah! Unspoken plans were plans! You weren't a dork! And what's more-- you were 'baby'!You texted him that it was okay, and maybe you could do something with him this weekend. His response:[Your Sunday belongs to me now.] - Professor ByunYou grinned again at your phone, but this time, a warmth between your legs accompanied it. You hated to admit it, but you liked it when guys took control, so long as they respected you when they did it. And since you couldn't imagine Baekhyun ever disrespecting you...Before you could reply, like he could sense that you were getting turned on, he text:[I miss the way you tasted.] - Professor Byun[And the little sounds you made when I hit your g-spot.] - Professor Byun[Fuck.] - Professor ByunFuck was right. You squeezed your legs together at the thought of him getting turned on. Was he getting as worked up as you were? You didn't know how to ask. Instead you typed, with shaking hands, What are you wearing? and sent it.It only took a second for him to reply.[Jesus Christ, Y/N.] - Professor Byun[I'm supposed to be catching up with an old friend, but you're trying to get me to sext you? You're such a bad influence.] - Professor Byun[... give me a second.] - Professor ByunGive him a second? What did that mean? You squeezed your thighs together again. Several minutes went by, and you were starting to think that he'd forgotten about you when your phone vibrated.You gasped when you saw what he'd sent you.The picture had you salivating. The warmth between your legs flared as you pored over the image, tapping on it to enlarge it. Baekhyun was reclining on a bed, shirt off, pants unzipped and dick out and hard in his hand. Your pulse fluttered. The picture was perfect-- you'd never understood sexting before but holy shit, holy shit.[Wish you were here.] - Professor Byun[I'd fuck you so hard you'd come in to class on Monday still limping.] - Professor ByunYou couldn't breathe. Quickly, you hopped up to lock your bedroom door and then returned to your bed, kicking off your pants and getting back onto the soft pile of blankets. You could feel how wet you were as your thighs brushed together. You stifled a small moan at the sensation.Your phone dinged again, and you saw another image from him. His pants and boxers are gone, and his dick is impossibly hard, leaking precum against his stomach as he bit his lip in the background.[All for you.] - Professor ByunYour hand found its way past the waistband of your panties, and you started to lightly circle your clit. You knew you should respond, but your fingers were shaking. With your free hand, slowly, you managed to type, You're so fucking hot.Before you could manage to shy out of it, you pressed send.You went back to looking at the second picture, focusing in on his face as you rubbed at the most sensitive part of your body. That face had been between your legs. That face had gotten you off with its tongue alone. Oh my God.[Send me a picture.] - Professor ByunYour heart stammered. Send him a what? You stopped touching yourself momentarily, biting your lip, but then you reasoned that it was only fair. He'd send you two. He deserved at least one.It took you a few minutes after taking off your panties and shirt to find a good position, but eventually you took a good snap, with your fingers in your pussy and your eyes closed as you moaned. You hesitated to send it to him, but then you thought about him jerking himself off, in his apartment you assumed, waiting for a pic of you. You pressed send.You got a reply almost instantly.[HOLY FUCKING SHIT, Y/N.] - Professor Byun[YOU'RE SO FUCKING SEXY.] - Professor ByunThe praise went straight to your core. You moaned even louder, not caring who heard you as you experimentally dipped one finger inside of your body and pumped it in and out. Shit, that felt good-- not as good as when he'd done it, but good nonetheless. You were definitely getting off tonight.[You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right now. Jesus.] - Professor ByunGod, you could practically hear his voice, pulsating through your body like a drug. You wanted to call him, needed to call him--Your phone was ringing. The sudden shock of it made your heart splutter, but when you checked the screen, it was him. He must have been thinking the same thing as you. You picked up, and the second you did, he was talking."I am going to hell for what I'm thinking about you," he said with no preamble. You went back to rubbing yourself, but you couldn't stifle a little giggle at the tone of his voice. You didn't know what to say to that-- weren't sure exactly what you were doing-- so you said nothing. "Are you as turned on right now as I am?"Probably more. "Maybe," you teased, but the teasing came out all breathy and desperate as your climax started to build."That's my girl," he said to you, for the second time. You liked it even more than the first. Am I your girl? You wanted to ask. Are we together? Dating? Not the time, Y/N."Baek," you expelled as you rubbed your clit a little harder, a little faster. Your climax was building, and you so wanted to get there while you could hear his voice. "I'm getting close," you told him breathily."Fuck." The word was a short curse. "Fuck, Y/N. You want to come when I'm talking to you? You want me to tell you what I want to do to you, every damn day in my classroom? You want that?"Your moan signified that, yes, yes, you really did. "You have no idea what I'm gonna do to you." He said it very matter-of-fact. Arousal struck through your body in a sharp wave at it, and you almost came right there. When he kept speaking, you could hear his words get more and more breathy, could hear him growing sloppy in his language, and you imagined him touching himself to the thought of you. "I'm gonna bend you over my desk and fuck you so hard after class someday. Fuck, everyday. You're gonna hide under my desk and suck me off while I give lectures. Fuck, baby, fuck...""Keep talking," you gasped, your heart racing. You were so, so close. So close! All you needed was for him to say the right thing--He moaned. He moaned, and just like that, you were coming, gasping and whimpering, coming harder than you ever had on your fingers before. Oh my God oh my GOD. The sound worked itself into your bones, shaking your insides and making your orgasm come a thousand times stronger than every before. You knew, you knew: I want that. I want to hear that. I want to hear that so many more times."Baek," you struggled to say, but he didn't reply, he just moaned again, and then there were a few moments of silence, with only heavy panting on both ends of the line. You closed your eyes and let your body relax, feeling as if you'd just melted, but liking it way more than you should have. Your heart seemed to thrum a steady rhythm, counting the beats before he spoke."Fuck, Y/N," was all he said, but it said it all. And so did your reaction, for that matter. You could hear his approval, his affection, and you wanted more more more of it. Lying in your bed after one of the best orgasms of your life, you couldn't convince yourself that you should stop this game in its tracks, even though you knew you were playing with fire. More than ever, you knew it.You were too attached. You hadn't even meant to get involved with him, but now he had a naked picture on his phone of you. And you liked it.You shook your head at yourself. You weren't this kind of girl. Not the kind of girl who sexted her professor, not the kind of girl who liked it. You were in way over your head. You're in so much trouble, Y/N, you told yourself."Yeah," you said softly, and you weren't sure who you were agreeing with: him, or the voice in your head.Maybe both. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You saw the texts as you stumbled to shut off your phone alarm the next morning.[Come to class early.] - Professor Byun[WAY early.] - Professor ByunYour heart pounding, you sat up in your bed, pulling your blankets against your chest. "What?" You muttered, fear starting to settle in. Why? Why did you have to come to class early? Was he going to break up with you?Across the room, Chanyeol squinted at you. "You okay?" He asked. You didn't respond.[Why?] - Y/NYou got an answer almost immediately. [I need to see what you sent me last night in person.] - Professor ByunYour heart spluttered. Oh. You didn't realize that Chanyeol was behind you until you heard him asking, "Is everything okay?"With a small squeal, you flung your phone across the room, panicking that he'd see who you were texting. "I'm-- everything's--" You spluttered over your words before looking at him critically. "Wait. Weren't you supposed to be meeting with an old friend?"Chanyeol pulled a face. "Something came up with his girlfriend," he said, rolling his eyes. "He had to call her or something. Some sort of family emergency. We still chilled after, but I decided to come home."You tried to focus on your friend. Sehun would want you to focus on friendships, not your illicit relationship with your professor, right? Right.Wait. Sehun."AW, FUCK!"You jumped out of bed, running after the phone you'd flung away, desperate for it to tell you something you knew it wouldn't say. You'd ignored Sehun's texts the other day so you could respond to them when you were in a better place emotionally (Thursday had been a rough day-- your parents had harassed you again), and your dumb ass had forgotten to respond.Not only that, but YOU'D STOOD HIM UP FOR YOUR THURSDAY APPOINTMENT.How the hell had you forgotten? You looked down at your phone in dismay. The most recent text got your heart working with guilt.[Y/N, please. Call me. I'm worried and I don't want to contact your parents and get you in trouble.] - Sehun"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you were cursing, running your hands through your hair. How could you have let this happen? You knew how. You'd allowed your mind to get taken over with Baekhyun, idiot that you were, and other people were paying the price. How could you be so dumb? You read the other texts Sehun had sent, from most recent to least.[Y/N, it's Thursday night and you aren't here, and you haven't texted. Are you alright? I'm getting extremely concerned.] - Sehun[Hey, are you running late for our Thursday session? It's thirty past and you're not in the waiting room.] - Sehun[Y/N, are we still on for Thursday?] - SehunYou felt Chanyeol's hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, you're freaking me out, are you okay?"You felt tears burn in your eyes as you looked up at him. Hot, shameful tears. "No, I'm not," you said. "You remember how I told you, that I've got a therapist and, you know, family issues?"Chanyeol nodded."Well, I--" A new text came in. This one from Sehun again.[Y/N, I'm having trouble sleeping. Please just let me know you're okay.] - SehunYour heart clenched as you checked the time. Six in the morning. That was normal for a college student to get up for classes, but for a professional therapist? He shouldn't be awake at that hour. He must be worried sick."I'm sorry, let me just--" You said to Chanyeol, but you cut yourself off as you shook your head and started dialing Sehun's number. You had to call him ASAP. Explaining could wait.He answered on the first ring. "Y/N?" His voice was desperate. "Y/N, is that you?""Sehun," you breathed, and you shut the bathroom door, locking yourself in so Chanyeol wouldn't overhear your conversation, even though you weren't sure why. You were just calling your therapist, after all. "Sehun, I--""Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" He interrupted, sounding genuinely angry for the first time you could remember. Even when you'd thought he'd hated you with his natural glare and all that, he'd never seemed so angry. "I was about to call your professors."Your professors. Your stomach twisted. Your brain tried to fathom Sehun calling Baekhyun-- you knew they were friends, so you figured that's who he'd call first, he knew you were taking Korean-- and you almost vomited. You weren't sure what Baekhyun had told Sehun about your relationship, if he'd told him anything at all. At first, when he'd first started blackmailing you, you'd been sure that Sehun would take Baek's side, but now you weren't so sure. You weren't so sure about anything."You can't," you blurted, and you instantly wanted to kick yourself. After giving this man so much worry, that's what you had to say?He seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "Are you serious right now?" He demanded. "I've been panicking about you since last Wednesday-- and it's now Monday, for the record-- and that's what you have to say, that I can't call your professors?" You cowered from the phone. "Do I need to remind you that I'm friends with your Korean professor?" No, he really didn't. "Y/N, I was worried you'd-- you'd--""I'm sorry," you said faintly into the receiver, hoping to cut him off, but he wouldn't be stopped."I was worried you'd hurt yourself again," Sehun said, and his voice was considerably softer. There was a moment's silence, and then he said, "I'm sorry for losing my temper. It was extremely unprofessional. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."Why the hell was he apologizing? "No, I'm sorry," you said. "I'm sorry for worrying you. I was..." I was fucking around with your friend? "I was busy."For a moment, Sehun said nothing. Then: "Well, I'm glad to hear that." He didn't sound glad. He sounded like he was being strangled. "But next time, please remember to respond to my texts, or let me know if you're going to miss an appointment."You had to force your voice to leave your throat. "I will," you said, your voice a small croak. "Sehun, I'm really sor--""It's fine," he cut you off. There was another sharp silence. "I've got to go back to sleep now, Y/N. I'll see you Thursday."You nodded, even though he couldn't see you. "Okay," you said, your voice tiny. "I'm sor--"There was a sharp click as he hung up on you.You knew Chanyeol meant well, asking you what had happened and why you looked so down. But what were you supposed to say? I think I pissed off my therapist and hurt his feelings by ignoring him so that I could fuck my professor instead? As fucking if. You tried to assuage his concerns best you could with your vague one word answers, but you knew he wasn't having any of it. He kept looking at you worriedly all throughout Professor Asshole's class, and as much as you tried to smile comfortingly at him, you knew you just looked disturbed. You rushed back to your dorm during lunch break to eat and change for Korean, and he followed you. Not, like, in a creepy way, but almost as if he were a puppy who could sense you weren't feeling well. He didn't say anything though-- he seemed to have figured out that you would tell him what you would tell him, and nothing he could say or ask would change that."I have to get changed," you announced, subdued, as he locked the dorm door behind you. He looked at you funny, so you added, "I hate this outfit. I can't wear it for another second. If you want to eat without me, that's fine."Chanyeol shook his head. "I'll make pasta. Don't take too long. It'll be ready when you come out."You sighed.He was too good for you.You arrived at Baekhyun's room thirty minutes early for class. You knocked on the door, expecting it to be locked, but it swung slightly open, and you heard him call, "Y/N?"You couldn't help the butterflies that danced in your tummy at the sound of him saying your name. You took a deep breath and entered the classroom, seeing that it was empty except for the two of you. You closed the door behind you, unsure if you should lock it or not. On one hand, you didn't want anyone catching the two of you doing something-- you still didn't want to be known as the girl who goes for her professor--, but on the other hand, if you locked it, when you unlocked it, people would question what the two of you had been doing in a locked classroom together. You shook your head. You were overthinking it. You strode over to where he sat at his desk, and he stood up, his eyes glittering as he took in your skirt and blouse. He opened his mouth to say something, but you grabbed him by the tie and pulled him so that his mouth crashed into yours."Kiss me," you demanded, and he was more than happy to oblige. His mouth found yours with delicate kisses, but delicate was not what you wanted right then. You bit his lip and said, "More." He planted his hands on your hips, and, without a word, lifted you up and sat you on his desk. He pushed his way between your thighs, opening them up as he kissed you more feverishly, more passionately. You knew, in the back of your mind, that anyone could walk in at any minute. Instead of sobering you, the thought made you excited. You could feel Baekhyun's hardness poking at your core, and you grinded against him. He moaned. "Don't," he said, and he pulled slightly away from you, his hands sliding down to your smooth thighs as he looked at you with that wanton expression on his face."Why not?" You reached for him. "We have thirty minutes. We could be quick."He danced away from your grasp, eyeing you again, this time critically. "I don't want to be quick. Especially not for your first time," he said. He looked at you. "Y/N, are you okay?"Maybe too quick, you nodded. "I'm fine."He narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure?" Definitely too quick. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"You wanted to groan in frustration. You didn't want to talk about it. "Do you really want to talk about my goddamn therapist issues while you've got a hard-on?"Baekhyun's brows furrowed. "Sehun?" He repeated. "Sehun's giving you trouble?"You shook your head. "No, that's just it," you said. "He isn't. I'm giving him trouble." You reached for him again, but he just waited for you to elaborate. You sighed. "I forgot to call him, and I missed a therapy appointment. He was worried about me, and now I feel bad. That's it. I promise."Baekhyun took a step back to you, and you felt his warmth radiating from his body. You wished he would kiss you again before it got too late and too risky. "Are you sure?" he asked.You bit your lip. That wasn't quite all of it. You were, after all, wondering about him-- exactly what the two of you were, exactly what the two of you were even doing. But how were you supposed to ask? You nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure." Feeling exposed, you closed your legs and hopped off of his desk. Which was good, because just as you got your feet on the ground, the door opened, and Zhang Yixing walked in.You whipped around, a blush firing in your cheeks as Baekhyun quickly took a seat in his chair to hide his erection. Yixing noticed you after a moment, pausing as he set his stuff down in the seat next to yours. He noticed your bag at your seat and looked up. His face turned into a question mark when he saw you standing behind Baekhyun's desk."Th-Thank you for clearing that up for me, Professor Byun," you stammered, offering a little bow."Anytime," Baekhyun played along. "If you have any other questions, come see me at my office. My hours are on your syllabus."You bowed again. "Thank you, sir," you said, and you started to walk away, but found his hand catching onto your arms behind the desk. Your eyes shot to Yixing, but the boy had looked away, perhaps in embarrassment from his previous gaping. Quietly, Baekhyun whispered, "Stay behind after class. I want to take you to my flat."Your stomach flipped. That could only mean one thing. You nodded and went to your seat, greeting Yixing and making small talk with him as the rest of your classmates sporadically filed in.Baekhyun did not stand up from behind his desk the entire lecture.Baekhyun's car was just as nice as you remembered it, but you couldn't focus on how nice the heated seat felt on your back for the life of you as Baekhyun drove you to apartment.Were the two of you about to have sex? You didn't think him inviting you over could mean anything else. Were you seriously about to lose your virginity to your professor? Your professor? Every time you started to freak out about it, you looked over at him, and he smiled at you, a soft, comforting smile that reminded you of that time in his office when you'd first kissed him, and how sweet he'd looked and how gentle he'd been."Are you hungry?" He asked you as he drove. "I'm not far from the school, so we should be there in few minutes. I can make you dinner if you want."Dinner... and then sex? Or were you the only one thinking about sex? You couldn't be. He'd been hiding behind his desk the entire lecture, even if his hard-on was gone now. That, combined with your sexting, you knew had to mean he was thinking about sleeping with you. Why was he asking about dinner?"I ate lunch with my roommate," you said. "I don't think I can eat again so soon." Which was the truth. You had too many butterflies in your stomach to be eating anything right then."Dessert, then?" Baekhyun asked, and he wiggled his eyebrows. You laughed out loud. How could anyone so handsome also be so... cute?You gently smacked his shoulder. "Maybe," you said, and he grinned at you.The two of you pulled up to a gleaming, crystalline structure of a building, towering over the city and glowing in the afternoon sun. He cut the engine in a parking space directly in front of it, labelled 'reserved.' He smirked at you when he saw you notice it, and you shook your head. Cuteness, gone. Enter: cocky bastard. "This is your apartment building?" You asked, gesturing at the glowing structure. It was beautiful. Baekhyun nodded.He took your hand and led you inside, ushering you through the lobby, nodding at people who greeted him, "Hello, Mr. Byun." He led you to the elevator, which gave you deja vu to the night when he'd taken you to the rooftop, and the two of you had kissed and touched until sunrise. You felt a blush on your cheeks just thinking about it.As the two of you filed in the elevator, he smirked at you, and you knew you weren't the only one thinking about his head between your thighs, those sinful lips making you feel things you'd never before felt. You watched as Baekhyun pressed the button labelled "PENTHOUSE", and you had to say, you weren't surprised. You knew he was rich, after all, and you were starting to think that you were the only second-best, average thing in his life. Everything else was glittering.The elevator opened up with a ding, into a sparkling kitchen that left you breathless. You raced out of the elevator and whirled around in a circle, taking in his apartment. Everything was glimmering, shimmering, richly beautiful. You gaped at his TV, at his stove, at his everything. You heard him laugh, and you whirled around again, finding him leaning against the kitchen countertop and watching you with a grin. "See something you like?" He asked.His grin was infectious. You made your way over to him, and on tiptoes, you pecked him on the lips and said, "Oh, definitely." He smiled against your lips and murmured, "Me too."You were making out with him on the couch when it happened. You didn't know if your kissing would have lead to sex or not-- you never got to find out-- but the two of you were intimately involved, with both of your shirts off and his hands up your skirt. Your lips were swollen from kissing and you could feel him hardening beneath you; you were just about to grind your hips against him when you heard the noise.At first, it didn't register as the elevator ding. You just heard the high-pitched noise and sat up, looking confused around the apartment for the source of the sound. Baekhyun followed, but he rose to his feet, recognizing the sound and standing almost immediately, shirtless, his hand taking yours. You looked up at him in confusion, but there was no time to ask him what was going on. The elevator doors opened, and you heard him speaking."Baek! I know you're home; I saw your car. I have to talk to you--"He stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes landed on the two of you. You instantly felt like you were going to be sick. Beside you, Baekhyun cursed.Of all the people in this world, you thought, God, really, of all the people in this world? He had to find us out?Oh Sehun's eyes locked with yours, and you knew you were fucked. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You were the one to break the silence. His name came from your lips like a plea, your voice a soft, breaking whisper."Sehun," you cried, and you were rising from the couch, shaking, clutching at yourself because you felt like you were about to fall apart. The words came from your mouth at an uncontrollable, rapid pace. "Don't be mad at me. Sehun, don't be mad. Please don't be mad, please don't be mad, please don't be--"Sehun opened his mouth to speak, but Baekhyun's hand squeezing yours sent you into a fit of hysteria. Inexplicably, you freaked out-- you pulled yourself away from him, tears burning from your eyes out of nowhere, and you tripped over yourself to get away from his side, like if you separated yourself you would no longer be guilty. And you really, really didn't want to be guilty.You started sobbing.Sehun rushed over to you, ignoring Baekhyun for half a second as he took your hands in his. You shook, your entire body quivering, and as panic overtook your body, you lost all sense of reason and flung yourself onto Sehun, clinging to him like you would die if you let go, regardless of the fact that you were half naked and he was, in fact, your therapist.He didn't push you away as you cried into his shirt. It took a second, but his hands did smooth over your back comfortingly as you repeated, "Don't be mad at me, don't be mad, don't be mad, don't be mad..."Sehun looked over you at his friend, and although you couldn't see, you could feel the fire of his glare, the weight and the anger of it. "What the hell is wrong with you," he spat at Baekhyun. "What the hell--"You heard Baekhyun try to speak. "Sehun--"But he was cut off. "No, shut up. Shut up. For the love of God, couldn't you just leave alone one girl in your whole life? One girl? That's all I fucking asked of you!" Sehun's hands found your shoulders and he pulled back so he could look you in the eye. But you wouldn't meet his gaze, couldn't meet his gaze, you were so ashamed. "Y/N, how did this happen, sweetie?" He asked, his voice low, insistent, with all of the poison he'd injected into it as he yelled at Baekhyun gone. You couldn't speak. You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you quaked. Your fingers twisted in his shirt, and he looked down at them, then back up at your face. "Y/N--""It was my fault."It was the first sentence he'd managed to get out since Sehun had found you out. It was strong, his voice without falter, and although it got Sehun's gaze snapping back over to him, you just couldn't look at Baekhyun."Of course it was your fucking fault," Sehun spat. To your surprise, he pulled you against him again, hugging you to his chest as you cried even harder at the sound of him raising his voice. Everything felt surreal. It felt as if your life since Baekhyun had first spoken to you had been a dream, a convincing, absorbing dream, and you were only then waking up. "You think this-- this innocent, sweet, hapless girl is even capable of-- of--""Well, it was my fault, but I haven't been fucking raping her, so she is somewhat capable of whatever you're suggesting." Baekhyun's voice was like ice. No, like cold stone, cutting through flesh and stabbing into hearts and lungs and livers. "I forced her into being with me. But I never made her touch me. That was all her choice."Sehun gripped onto you tighter. "Is this true, Y/N?" He asked quietly, so quietly that you weren't sure Baekhyun could hear. "Y/N, you can tell me anything. I'll believe you. If he touched you--"You broke away from him all of the sudden, shaking your head, clutching at yourself once more. "No, no, no, no, no," you muttered, shaking your head. "No, no, no--""Y/N," Sehun tried, but Baekhyun spoke again."I bribed her into dating me," he said. You keeled over, and then sat on the ground, curling up in a little ball and shutting your eyes, rocking back and forth like a child. "I told her that I would tell my supervisors that she'd tried to seduce me. Of course, with her a scholarship student, and me as... who I am, they'd take my word over hers, and she'd be shamed or even kicked out. The threat was enough to get her with me."Stop, stop, stop, you thought. He was saying everything so coldly, so mechanically, you almost didn't recognize his voice. But he didn't stop."She hated me, I think. But then something must have changed, because she kissed me.""Stop." It wasn't you thinking it this time, or even you saying it. Sehun had spoken. "Stop it, Baek. Stop."He still didn't stop."And you know what? I fucking kissed her back. And she liked it.""Stop it." You could hear Sehun's voice shaking, and you looked up. Almost against your will, your eyes drifted over to where Baekhyun stood, and you saw him, still as stone, glaring, his hair mussed, looking like a detached, cruel god. "Stop it before you say something you can't take back."And cruel, he was. Because he kept going."I didn't make her kiss me, Sehun," he said, his voice a knife. "I didn't force her to spread her legs for me. I didn't make her like it when I ate her out. I didn't make her send me pictures of her pussy, and I didn't make her get off to pictures of my dick. She did all that by herself, didn't she?" You couldn't look away from him. It was terrible, terrible, terrible. And he'd never looked more beautiful. "And you know what? If you hadn't fucking gotten here, I probably would have fucked her. And it would have been all. Her. Choice."You shot to your feet again, but neither of the boys looked at you. They were too busy glaring at each other. "So did I take advantage of her? Maybe in the beginning. But me bribing her to date me isn't as fucked up as you," Baekhyun said, his voice acid. "You, lusting after your own damn patient. Wanting what's mine." Sehun flinched. "I bet you think about her when you get off, don't you? That's why you told me to stay away from her. You think about her when you get yourself off, think about her legs, her lips, her ass... I wonder how many times you've come thinking about my girl." Baekhyun smiled. "Because's she's mine. Right, Y/N?"At that, suddenly, you found your voice. You glared at Baekhyun, at the man who had absorbed the past few weeks of your life, who was your first so many things. Who was beautiful beyond measure but also making you sick."Fuck you," you spat, your voice strong and unwavering, solid and bold. Your words echoed through the flat as you took Sehun's hand into yours, and-- leaving your shirt behind-- you fled the scene, like murderer leaving a dead body behind.His tongue was in your mouth, and tears were in your eyes, and your bodies were colliding like the sun and the moon, so unlikely and catastrophic. But you couldn't stop.You were at his place. You'd been too much of a mess to go back to your own dorm and face Chanyeol, so you'd begged and cried in the shotgun seat of his car for him to take you home. And he had. He had.You didn't know who had started it. Only that you were on his bed, rolling around with him, your hands all over his body and his hands all over yours, leaving sizzling trails of heat and taboo on your skin. You kissed him fiercely, unlike how you'd kissed Baekhyun. You wanted it to be different. Needed it to be different. Your body was singing, buzzing, about to overheat. Without a word, his hands found your hips and anchored there as his lips found your neck and started to suck. You moaned, and he bit into you, harder, harder, until you knew you would have marks. Your hands slid down his chest to the zipper of his jeans as his lips worked magic on your skin, moving to anew spot and sucking harder, making you whine."Sehun," you said, and he pulled back, his eyes shining."Are you okay?" He asked, and it struck you, hit you. You hid your flinch by kissing him, meeting his heavenly lips with yours, but you could hear him in your head, asking you if you were alright a million times. You shoved him flat on his back and fell over him, attacking his lips with kisses. Be in the present, you thought viciously at yourself. It was something he'd said to you himself a million times. He, Sehun. Your therapist.Who you were currently making out with.You pulled back, eyes lidded and reached back to unclasp your bra. He watched you with wide eyes, and it made you feel like a woman, not a girl-- a goddess, not a child. As you bra fell away from your body, you rose, his hands coming to meet you, to cup you. His mouth found your shoulder and he was sucking on the skin there, too. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, and you said nothing, nothing. He cupped your breasts lovingly, and then he bent down, trailing a line of kisses down your collarbone to between your breasts. You tilted your head back and exhaled, feeling, if only for a moment, the weight of the world come off your shoulders. You were floating, floating, floating away, in between the constraints of time and space, and suddenly you were only in this moment with him, with Sehun, and you knew you were safe and nothing hurt.Your hands pulled at his shirt, and you tugged at the hem, telling him you wanted it off. He pulled back from your breasts, and you said, "Take off all your clothes."He obeyed. And as he removed his shirt, his pants, his boxers, his shoes, you took of your skirt and panties and flats, leaving you bare before him. But you were not afraid, and you were not shy. Your body met his, and his hands traced constellations on your freckles, stretch marks, self-harm scars. He leaned down and kissed the hundreds of cut-scars that decorated your legs, flesh memories of darker times. Times you'd told him about at length, in the comfort of his office. You thought, as he kissed your scars, that no one knew you like he did. Not your parents, not Chanyeol, not Baekhyun.A wave of passion over-taking you, you shoved him on his back again and fell over him, this time pressing kisses down his torso, kissing his hipbones, your hands smoothing over his thighs. You looked up, and yours eyes met his for half a second before you went down on him.He let out the most beautiful whining noise as you took his dick into your mouth. You knew you didn't know what you were doing, but you didn't think it mattered. You'd heard girls at highschool detail the experience, and how difficult could it be, really?"Y/N," Sehun inhaled, and you hollowed your cheeks, starting to bob your head up and down on him. Your hands squeezed his thighs, your nails digging into the soft flesh as you sucked him off. "Y/N-- ah, fuck."You smiled at the sound of him cursing. You changed your angle, taking him deeper into your throat and doing your best to suppress your gag reflex. His fingers thread through your hair, and you could feel him start to pull and shake the faster your pace got."Y/N-- Y/N--" He was gasping. "Stop, I'm gonna--"You pulled off of him, and instantly, his hands found his member. You watched as he held it tight to keep from coming, fascinated by the pink, dripping tip. You could taste only him in your mouth, and you leaned down again and kissed him, wondering if he'd taste himself when you did. You kissed him, biting his lip, tangling his tongue with your own, and he mumbled against your mouth, "I don't have a condom."You kissed him harder, stronger. It didn't matter. You didn't care. "I'm on the pill," you said, and it was true, and you'd never been happier. Sehun directed you to get on your back, and you allowed him to position your body the way that he wanted. Your lower regions were throbbing, aching with want, and your heart was crying out, and your lips were warm and hot and swollen and you wanted him. Wanted him to fuck away the pain and the confusion. Sehun's hands were gentle on your body as he positioned himself above you. It occurred to you that he knew you were a virgin; you'd shared the information with him before. That was why he was touching you so delicately. Your heart ached. He positioned himself at your entrance before meeting your eyes with his."You sure?" He asked. You nodded, and he said, "Say it, Y/N. Say it out loud." With anyone else, you would have thought he wanted you to dirty talk him, but you knew he wanted the consent, wanted to hear the words, needed to."Fuck me, Sehun," you said softly. "Fuck me, please. Please."Your hands trailed down his back, and his forehead met yours as he slid into you, slowly. You closed your eyes at the burning pain, and you heard your breaths faltering as you waited for it to go away. Sehun was still, his lips only pressing against your forehead as the two of you waited, as the pain slowly turned to pleasure. You felt so full. You arched your hips, and he seemed to realize that that meant he was good to move. He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips as he started to fuck you, his hips moving with yours to create poetry. You felt fire flow and flow through your body, and you were drowning in him, drowning in the things he was making you feel.The nighttime grew, and grew, and died around your bodies as the sun rose and the two of you caught on fire."Y/N Y/L/N. Stay after class."You closed your eyes and felt your heart drop out of your chest. It was the next day, and you were in his class, hoping to God that he'd ignore you, that the two of you could pretend that nothing had ever happened. But no. He was singling you out, again. Again.Yixing was incensed. "Y/N, seriously. Let me report him to the dean," he muttered, his fists clenching as he looked over at you, and how pathetically afraid you must have seemed."No, it's..." You couldn't even finish the sentence. It wasn't fine, and you knew it. You knew it, Yixing knew it, and you thought, Baekhyun surely had to know it too. Whatever the two of you had been doing, it was over. You'd awoken from the spell he'd put you under. You weren't that girl, you'd never been. He'd somehow enchanted you, but that was over. It was over. Yixing caught onto your desperation. "You can't even finish the sentence," he said. "Y/N, the dean won't mind if I talk to him. He's an old family friend, okay? I'm sure he'll listen to what I have to say."And you were sure he would, but something in your gut was telling you to keep your mouth shut. If you told on Baekhyun, something bad would happen, your gut just knew it...You shook your head. "Let me try to deal with it one last time," you said to Yixing, and you meant it. If you couldn't get Baekhyun to leave you alone after this, then you would report him to the dean with Yixing. Even if that meant coming clean. Even if it meant taking a risk, what with Baekhyun being a benefactor and all that. You couldn't live like this.Yixing didn't seem happy, but he nodded. And when class was dismissed, he helped you gather your stuff and again volunteered to wait outside for you, but you dismissed him. "Here's my phone number," you said, and you scrawled it on his hand. "We should hang out sometime, okay? But just trust me, I've got this." He'd hesitated, but after a little more prodding from you, he was gone, and you were alone with Baekhyun. The slam of the door sounded like the hinges closing on a coffin."Come to my desk." It was a command. Your legs mechanically obeyed, and you kept your head down, remembering your mission even though you were so afraid you felt you might faint."Professor, I--" You began, but you faltered when you looked up and saw the way he was looking at you. Like he wanted to eat you alive. Like he was fucking you in his mind, like he was about to grab you and make love to you on his desk.Make love. You winced. You were still sore from sex with Sehun..."Those are some peculiar bruises you have," Baekhyun remarked, pointing at your neck. Your heart stammered. Your scarf, your scarf--- where the hell had it gone? You looked around for it wildly, and found it dangling from his fingers. When had he removed it?"Professor--"Baekhyun shook his head. "Don't," he said fiercely. He planted both of his hands on his desk and leaned forward, glaring into you. "Listen, Y/N. I am neither stupid nor blind. I know exactly what those bruises are, and I know exactly who you got them from." Your heart jolted. He couldn't. He couldn't.He picked up on the look on your face. He scoffed. "What, did you think I wouldn't figure it out? They'd be from either me or Sehun. And since you left before we could do anything, I'm guessing that you fucked your therapist."You couldn't breathe. But he wasn't done."Now, unless you want me to report Sehun to his supervisors, here is what we're going to do," Baekhyun said, his eyes narrow as he straightened up and walked around his desk, closer to you, causing you to stumble backwards in fear. He paused at the fear in your eyes, but only physically. "Our arrangement will still stand," he said. "You will still see me whenever I tell you to see me. If I tell you to come to dinner with me, you will come to dinner with me. I will not touch you unless you explicitly ask me to." His eyes glinted at that, and you almost saw a flash of the kindness that had enchanted you in the first place, but no, it was gone almost as soon as you'd seen it. "You will tell no one about what we are doing. Not even your beloved Sehun. Not unless you want me to get him fired and locked up for fucking his sweet, susceptible patient."You were shaking. "You bastard," you whispered. He cocked his head and smiled."Aw baby, you get me so hard when you talk like that," he said. He eyed you up and down. "Take a shower and then meet me in my office tonight. I don't want him on you when you're with me, understand?"You felt tears well in your eyes. "Fuck you," you said to him again, and he ignored it. "Fuck you, Baekhyun, fuck you," you said, and then, for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, you fled his presence. Break my heart. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Your phone kept going off, and every ding was like a bullet to the brain. You flinched noticeably at the ringtone, so noticeably that even Chanyeol, who was clearly trying to mind his own business, had to say something."Y/N. Seriously. You've been really weird lately, are you sure you're okay?" He asked you as the two of you studied in your dorm that night. You hesitated for only a moment, considering whether or not you could tell him what was going on with you. Obviously, you couldn't tell him the whole thing, but to get some of it off of your chest would be amazing.You sighed. "No," you said finally. "I'm not okay." You shoved your foreign literature textbook away from you with finality and slouched back in your seat, looking away from your roommate. You hadn't know him for that long at all-- he'd come into your life the same day you'd first met Baekhyun, you realized with a pang-- but you felt so at ease in his presence. Almost too at ease. You were constantly worried you tell him more than you should, and you would get yourself in trouble. Now, it was a million times worse-- you didn't care about Baekhyun getting in trouble, but Sehun? You would kill yourself if he lost his job because of you."Do you want to talk about it?" Chanyeol asked carefully, peering at you over his own work. "I know you're really not big on sharing, but you really look like you need it."You did. You sighed again. "I know I do," you said, "and I'd love to talk about it with you, but some of it, I can't. I'll get people I care about in trouble. Does that make any sense?" Chanyeol nodded, his eyes cautious."Are you safe?" He asked. "No one's hurting you, right?"Only my Korean professor. "Right," you said, and it sounded like a falsehood, even to your own ears. Your tone seemed to set off red warning flags in Chanyeol's mind, and his gaze turned suspicious. "Look," you hurried to say, "no one's hitting me, so I really can't complain, can I?"Chanyeol made a face. "People can hurt you really badly without ever hitting you, and you know it," he said pointedly. Your mind shot to your parents, and you had to admit he was right.You looked away from him. "Long story short," you began, "I slept with someone I definitely shouldn't have slept with. And someone else knows about it and is blackmailing me because of it."Chanyeol sucked in a breath. You looked at him. "What?" You asked. He shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "It's nothing." He eyed you. "You? Slept with someone? I thought..." He trailed off suddenly, looking embarrassed."You thought I was a virgin?" You supplied. Blushing, he nodded. "I was. Until about last night." You looked away from him, your own face red as you remembered it, the way your body had moved with his, the way he'd made you come over and over again until you cried and buried your face in his neck for hours. You cleared your throat. That was about as much as you could share without risking anyone, and you knew it. Your phone dinged again. You used it as an excuse to end the conversation. "I really should check that," you said, and he said nothing, just watched you with an unreadable expression on his face.When you saw the names attached the messages, you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom so you could read them in private. Your stomach felt like it was dropping out of your body, and you felt your palms start to sweat.First, most recent one:[Y/N Y/L/N. Get to my office now unless you want what we discussed to become a reality.] - Professor ByunYou bit your lip to keep from dry-heaving. He really was serious, wasn't he? You'd been hoping if you ignored his commands and didn't go tonight, he would calm down and somewhat return to the man he'd been during your enchantment. But no. That man was gone, if he'd ever really existed. "Fuck," you muttered as you transferred to the other conversation, a bunch of texts from the other person, all lined up like men facing the firing squad:[Y/N please let me know that you're okay. Please. I'm desperate. If you don't answer in ten minutes I'm driving to your dorm.] - SehunBefore that:[I don't mind if you hate me but I need to know that you're alright. You can report me and I'll completely understand because I deserve it but please, tell me you're okay.] - Sehun[You were gone when I woke up, and with everything that happened, I'm panicking. Please text me so I know you're alive.] - Sehun[Y/N, answer your phone, please. Where are you?] - SehunYou had to call him. If only to yell at him-- what the hell was he saying, 'you can report me and I'll completely understand because I deserve it'?!? He deserved nothing of the sort, and for him to even think you would do that to him... You shook your head and hit the call button on your phone. It took a few tries for him to pick up."Y/N?" He sounded breathless when he answered the phone."Hi," you said, and your voice was small. You felt your face flush and your heart start to pound. You could've sworn you felt his skin on yours, his body in you, his hands trailing softly down your back and pulling you closer to him. You heard yourself gasp for air. "Hi," you said again.He was silent for a moment. "Y/N--" He began, but you knew what he was going to say. You cut him off."Don't start," you said. "Don't you dare start with that: 'Report me because I deserve it' bullshit." Your voice seemed to have gotten stronger of its own accord. "Sehun, you're--""-- your goddamn therapist," he interrupted. Your heart squeezed. "And all I can think about is how goddamn beautiful you are. All I can fucking think about is how you felt in my bed and how much I wish things were different so I could touch you like that again."Your breath caught in your throat. "Sehun," you said softly, and it was almost like you were admonishing him, breathlessly scolding him for saying things he couldn't be saying."I know," he said quickly. "I know how wrong it is. Believe me, I know, Y/N, I know. Do you have any idea how long I've been suppressing this?" You bit your lip. "I told myself it was never going to happen, that I'd never let it happen, but now look where we are. And I don't know what to do."You had to be honest. "I don't know either," you whispered into the line. You didn't think you could face him again, but what choice did the two of you have? Your parents would demand a reason why if you asked to stop seeing him, and besides, could you really survive giving him up? You didn't think so.Before you could say anything more, your phone dinged, and you felt your stomach go to ice. You knew who that was, and you knew what the price for ignoring him would be. A price you would not pay."I think my phone's going off," you said softly to him. "I have to go, okay? I'll call you later."Sehun was silent for a moment. Then: "Alright." You almost hung up, then, but he added, "Y/N? Stay away from Baekhyun.""I will," you lied, and the lie was acid in your mouth. How you wished you could. "I mean it," he said. "He'd never force a girl to do anything physical, but he's possessive. I think he really liked you, so that'll make it ten times harder for you to get away from him."You could imagine."I'll be careful," you said quietly, and then you hung up.Your phone dinged two more times, and you almost fell into a panic attack as you rushed from the bathroom, not bothering to tell Chanyeol where you were going, just knowing that you had better get there quickly. You looked down at your screen as you fled the dorm, and your heart constricted.[Y/N. I mean now.] - Professor Byun[Do not think me above getting Sehun fired.] - Professor Byun[There's nothing I wouldn't do.] - Professor ByunYeah, you thought as you raced across campus. That's what I'm afraid of.You collided with him as you raced to Baekhyun's office, slamming right into his body as you stared anxiously at your phone, where you'd typed, I'm on my way. Please don't do anything rash."Shit!" He exclaimed, and he caught you before you could fall backwards on your ass."I'm so sorry!" You groaned, and you looked up at him. He had a friendly face that put you at ease, even as you straightened your clothes from the encounter and apologized again."Hey, don't worry about it," the guy said, and then he squinted at your face. "Hey, are you by any chance Y/N?" He asked, and you cocked your head, forgetting about your panic for a second as confusion set in. How did he know your name?"Y-Yes?" It sounded like a question.He noticed your confusion. "Everyone's been talking about the cute scholarship student who hates Professor Byun," he said. "And I'm Yixing's friend, he's mentioned you a few times, too. I'm Minseok, by the way." He extended his hand for you to shake. You took it, feeling flustered."Nice to meet you," you said, and it took all of your willpower to ignore your phone as it dinged again and brought you back to reality. Baekhyun.Minseok seemed to notice your renewed panic. "You have to be somewhere?" He asked, and you nodded. He stepped out of your way, gesturing for you to carry on. "Don't let me get in your way! I'm sure I'll see you around. It was nice to meet you, Y/N," he said."Nice to meet you too," you said, and you meant it.Then, you waved a goodbye and started to run.The door was closed, and you hesitated at it. You couldn't help but remember the only other time you'd come to his office, the time when you'd thrown yourself at him and had truly gotten yourself into this mess. After all, he'd promised you he'd never force you to touch him, and he hadn't-- you'd been the one to initiate contact. How you wished you could take it back.You set your jaw. Wishing wouldn't change anything. Only action would. You just had to go in there and try to convince him to let you go, and then try and try and try again until he did. There was no other option. You would not screw Sehun over-- not when he was possibly the only person in your life to ever care for you unconditionally.Before you could stop yourself, you knocked on Baekhyun's office door, and then, without waiting for a 'come in', pushed it open and stepped inside.He was lounging at his desk, casual, relaxed, and his dark eyes followed you as you shut the door and then reluctantly took a seat across from him. His eyes trailed over your body slowly, raking down your hips and lingering on the marks on your neck. Damn it, I forgot he took my scarf off.The two of you sat in silence for a few seconds, and then finally he said, "You know how fucked up that is, though?" He nodded at your hickies, and you shifted uncomfortably. "I can't believe you fucked your therapist."A wave of rage crashed through you. "Well, I can't believe that you're talking to me like that," you snapped. "And," you added vengefully, furious, "it's better than fucking you."At that, Baekhyun raised an eyebrow. "Sorry for you, we never actually had sex, Y/N," he said. "But do us both a favor and please refrain from pretending that you neither wanted nor consented to having sex with me. It'll be better for us both."You glared at him. What a bastard. What a sick, stupid, self-absorbed asshole. "What the hell is wrong with you?" You demanded, clenching your fists. "You were so-- so--""Charming?" He supplied, quirking his eyebrow again. "Well, I like to think I'm usually like that, thanks. But sometimes, when people piss me off, I get less than pleasant.""Not to mention," you added furiously, "that your appeal as a person drops significantly."Baekhyun stared at you. "Ouch," he muttered, and you resisted the urge to bug your eyes at him in indignation. There he was, blackmailing you worse than ever to be with him, and he was pretending to be hurt by your comebacks? How dare he?"Why don't you just tell me what the hell you want from me?" You demanded, almost shaking in the chair by how angry you were. "And don't even test me with that 'break my heart' bullshit." His eyes flashed at that."And what's that supposed to mean?" He countered, his voice low. "I mean," you shot to your feet, so done with him, so done with this, your voice acidic, "I can't break your heart if you never had one in the first place."Baekhyun rose as well, scoffing. "Now that's rich, coming from the ice cold virgin," he said, leaning forward and getting in your face."Yeah?" You got in his face right back. "Say that 'virgin' part again, would you? I like it when you're fucking wrong."Baekhyun pulled a face. "Shut up," he muttered, and you resisted the urge to roar."Don't you dare tell me to shut up!" You shouted, not caring that anyone could come in and discover the two of you arguing. "Honestly, honestly, you know what? I don't know what you did to get me so insane these past few weeks, but I do not appreciate it! I am not the kind of girl who fucks around with her professor! I am not anyone's bitch! And you do not get to tell me to shut up!"Baekhyun opened his mouth to retort, but you weren't done. Not even close."What the hell happened to you as a child to make you like this?" You demanded. "What fucking trauma do you have that's made you think you can control everyone and everything?!" You planted your hands on your hips. "You have no right to use what happened between Sehun and me as leverage. You have no right to even discuss it with me. It's none of your goddamn business. And you know why? It's because I'm not your girlfriend. I'm not your anything, and you don't own me. I can fuck who I want.""I'm sure Sehun's supervisors will disagree," said Baekhyun. You stared at him for a moment, unable to even process how much he'd changed, before falling back into your chair. You shook your head. "Just tell me what you want from me," you said, seething. Maybe if you could convince him you couldn't give him what he wanted, he'd let you go.Baekhyun shook his head. "You know what I want," he said, and you almost choked on the tears that rose in your throat."But why?" You cried, shot through with frustration and sadness. He'd been so sweet, and now he was a completely different person. It felt as if you'd lost a friend. "Why me? Why any of this?" You squeezed your eyes shut. "Please just leave me alone."There was only a small gap of silence. Then: "I can't," he said, his tone sounding genuinely remorseful for it. You opened your eyes and saw he was sitting again, no longer towering over you, and his expression was far more placid."And why the ever-loving fuck not?" You were back to glaring. All of your emotions welled up in you, and instead of crying, you shot to your feet. "You know what? Nevermind, don't answer that. I'm sure I'll get a bullshit answer anyway, and I quite honestly don't have the patience for you any longer." You stormed over to the door, and you heard him get up."Y/N--" His voice was like a warning, but you were beyond caring.You whipped around, your eyes burning. "No. No. I'm leaving. And if you've ever known what it's like to care for another living being, you'll just let me go."Without another word, you burst out of his office, slamming the door behind you, only one destination on your mind.You typed frantically into your phone as you stormed away from Baekhyun's office, halfway expecting him to grab you and pull you back in. But no, he didn't, so you were left typing, Are you home? as you raced to your dorm so you could fetch your car.You weren't sure why you needed to see Sehun so badly, but you had to, you had to. Your stomach was burning and you were about to cry, and you were in no condition to go back to your dorm and face Chanyeol, not after you'd opened up to him. He was smart-- he'd know something bad had happened, and after what you'd told him about being blackmailed, what would happen if someone told him you'd gone to see Professor Byun? He'd put two and two together, and you'd be screwed, and more importantly, so would Sehun.You felt your phone vibrate.[Yes? Y/N you can't come here.] - SehunYou felt tears sting in your eyes. [I need to see you.] - Y/N[Please, Sehun.] - Y/NThere was only a short pause like a sigh as he responded.[I'll leave the door unlocked.] - SehunThe door was indeed unlocked. You burst into his apartment, crying hysterically, and he caught you in his arms. He shushed you as he closed the door with one hand and wrapped his arm around you. You shook, the tears coming violently, and he led you over to his couch."Y/N," he said, his voice pained."I'm fine," you said, even though you were clearly not fine. "It's just-- it's all too much." You looked over at him sitting next to you, and he withdrew his arm. You bit your lip. You wished he hadn't.He caught the look on your face and winced. "Y/N," he started slowly, "we can't..."Tears welled in your eyes. You'd never felt more unwanted in your life, and you went to turn away, ready to leave his apartment as quickly as you'd come, but you heard him say, "Fuck, Y/N," and then his lips were on yours again.By the time the sun came up, you were both asleep in his bed. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You woke up to the sound of him cursing. Your eyes shot open and you sat up, clutching the sheets to your chest instinctually as he sat with his head in his hands beside you. "Damn it, damn it, damn it," he kept saying, and you felt your heart clutch.Oh no, you automatically panicked, Baekhyun reported him. He got mad at me for walking out last night and reported him. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.You reached out to touch him, but he jerked away, looking over at you with tortured eyes. "Why are you doing this to me?" He demanded, his voice broken, and it was not what you were expecting him to say.You paused. "What?" You asked, your voice unsteady. Sehun shook his head. "Y/N, we can't do this," he said, but he didn't move away when you reached for him again. You took his hand in yours and stared down at the joining of your two bodies, your face flushing as you thought back to the night before, when he'd been inside of you and you'd screamed his name. "I know," you whispered."It's so, so wrong. I'm your fucking therapist." He sounded like he was about to cry."I know," you said, even quieter this time."And I'm about five years your senior."You hadn't even thought about that. "...I know."The two of you sat in silence for a moment, but you couldn't keep quiet, you couldn't do it. "But I need you," you said, your voice small, and you curled in on yourself, feeling pathetic. He didn't say anything at first, so you curled in further, resting your head on your kneecaps, allowing the tears to well in your eyes. Then, you felt his hand smooth over your bare back, and you sniffled. "I need you," you said again.Sehun let out a breath. "I know," he said. "But not like this. This isn't-- it's not healthy, Y/N."You uncurled yourself a small amount so that you could look at him, tears in your eyes, and say, "I know. I know. I know. But..." You couldn't look at him as you said it, so you looked away, out his bedroom window, at the sunrise. "But maybe I don't give a shit. Nothing in my life is healthy. You of all people should know that." You let out a mirthless laugh. "My goddamn Korean professor is blackmailing me into dating him!"Sehun withdrew from your body. You looked over to see his face worked into the very picture of concern. "He's still blackmailing you?"Quickly, you shook your head. "He was, I meant," you said, which wasn't a lie. You had meant to say it in the past tense, because it was both true and uncompromising. You couldn't let Sehun know that Baekhyun was still after you. Not when his job was on the line. Not when his reputation was on the line. You changed the topic. "Sehun..." you said, trailing off a bit because you were afraid to say what you wanted to say. "I don't want to stop."Sehun's eyes met yours. He exhaled, shook his head, and then said, "Fuck." His eyes trailed over your body carefully, what he could see with you holding the sheet to your chest. Then, he shut his eyes and said, "Fuck, Y/N, that's so not fair."You shifted, dropping the sheet as you reached for him to take both of his hands into yours. You felt the cold air on your breasts, and you felt your nipples perk up. He opened his eyes when you grabbed him, and he inhaled sharply as his eyes danced along your chest. "Sehun..." you bit your lip. "I don't have class today... and I want you to know that I was listening to you, but..." Your cheeks were red fire from blush. "One more time can't hurt, right?"Sehun shook his head, but as he did so, he was moving towards you, his hands smoothing over your breasts, thumbs rubbing your nipples until they hardened. "We can't," he said, but he pushed you down lightly, and you let him. His lips found yours, captured yours, and your heart raced. "It's so wrong," he murmured, but his hand slid down your body and found your sex. He dipped one finger inside of you, making you mewl. Your hands caught at his arms, and you looked up at him with lidded eyes. There he was, the only man who had ever known you, the only man who had ever been inside of you. And he was telling you all of the reasons why you should let him go.Tears stung in your eyes the entire time the two of you made love.It was the next day. It seemed like Baekhyun could sense that you'd slept with Sehun twice more. He didn't tell you explicitly to stay after class, but you knew by the way he was glaring at you that you would be in a world of trouble if you didn't.Yixing noticed too."Y/N." He pulled out his phone, tapped on it a few times, and then held the screen out to you. You saw that he'd pulled up a contact for a man named Junmyeon. "I told you, I'm friends with the dean. I've got his number right here. Let me text him for you. Please."You shook your head. "It's fine," you said.Yixing rolled his eyes and retracted his phone. "He's glaring at you. Are you going to pretend like that's not happening?"You considered it for a second. "Yes."Yixing snorted. He seemed to get that you weren't going to allow him to talk to the dean about Baekhyun any time soon, so he took the cue and changed the subject. Since Baekhyun had told the class to split up into partners and work on the assigned reading, you figured the two of you wouldn't get in trouble for talking."So my friend Minseok said he met you the other day," he said conversationally as he flipped to the page you were supposed to be working on. You nodded. "Yeah, we ran into each other. He was nice."Yixing nodded. "Yeah. He's a really good guy." He grinned at you, then, and he said, "He said you were super cute. I think he likes you." He wiggled his eyebrows.You laughed. "Yeah, right." Yixing rolled his shoulders, like he was prepping to say something. "You should hang out with us sometime. I promise we don't bite." He grinned again, and you grinned back. Your first immediate thought was: Holy shit, I'm making friends, I need to tell Sehun. Then it was: Sehun had his dick in you not 24 hours ago. That's weird.Before you could say anything else, everyone around you started to pack up, and you realized class was over. You moved slowly, hoping that no one would notice you staying behind, but Yixing picked up on it immediately."You should come eat dinner with us," he suggested. Then, he noticed your hesitation and said, with his eyebrows raised, "Unless you're planning on staying here?"Your face flushed. "No, not at all," you said, and you sped up your packing. You would have to text Baekhyun to meet you somewhere. It would be far too suspicious if you stayed behind after class, he had to realize that. Once you'd gotten your bag all settled, you hoisted it up onto your shoulders and faced Yixing again. "I'd love to hang out with you and your friend tonight, I really would," you said as people bustled around you, "but I can't. I have foreign literature homework to do--" Not a lie, necessarily-- "and I really want to spend time in my dorm." Also not a lie.Yixing nodded, a little bit deflated. "That's okay. Next time, alright?" "Right," you said, and you smiled. "I'll see you later, Yixing," you said, and the two of you left the classroom. He bid you goodbye before going his own way, and as soon as he was gone, you whipped out your phone, typing frantically.[I couldn't stay; it would have been too suspicious.] - Y/N[I can meet you at Kitty's Cafe if you want.] - Y/NKitty's Cafe was a small, private cafe located just off campus. Students hardly ever went there-- it was more of a haunt for old people, which made it the perfect place for you to meet with Baekhyun. You made a face as you re-read your texts. You didn't want to seem like you actually wanted to see him, though.[If not, I do have homework to do.] - Y/NThere. That got the point across, hopefully without angering him. You stuffed your phone in your bag and kept walking, taking your time as you made your way to your dorm.Chanyeol was already there when you arrived. He perked up when you walked in, taking off his headphones and saying, "Hey! Do you want to go down to the commons and get dinner together tonight?"Your heart instantly sank. "I can't," you said, and the regret in your voice was genuine. As much as you needed alone time, what you wanted more than anything right then was to be a normal college student and go grab dinner with your sweet roommate. But being a normal college student just wasn't written in your stars.Chanyeol's face sank. "Oh," he said. He looked down at his homework he'd been doing and said, "I just thought, since you're not around much anymore, you'd want to spend some time together."Your heart was breaking. "Chanyeol--"He held up a hand. "No, I get it," he said, and he gave you a smile that was clearly forced. "I know you're a little busy right now. And your life is..." He was clearly thinking about everything you'd told him the day before. "Crazy. So I get it."That very well might have been true, but you still felt horrible. "Tomorrow night, okay?" You said. "For sure." You'd have to beg Baekhyun to leave you alone for one night, at least. You thought back to the sweet person you'd met between the blackmail and cockiness. Surely not all of him had been fake.Chanyeol nodded, but he didn't look convinced. "Tomorrow," he agreed.You were only alone in the Kitty's Cafe for a few minutes before Baekhyun walked in, dressed in casual clothes, looking like sin in black jeans, a black shirt, and black, slicked back hair. Every muscle in your body constricted, and you were practically made of stone by the time he got to your table."You shouldn't be out alone," he said with no preamble. "Don't you have a roommate? Where is she?"You shook your head at him. "He is busy. Studying."Baekhyun's handsome face sunk into a dark scowl. "'He?'" He demanded.You sighed as you stirred sugar into your coffee. "Yes, he," you said. You didn't like where this conversation was going. "Look, is there any specific reason why you wanted to see me? I do have homework to do, I wasn't lying." You tried to change the topic. Plus, maybe you could convince him to let you go in time to meet with Chanyeol.Baekhyun wouldn't be deterred. He narrowed his eyes as you took a sip of your coffee and asked, "And have you fucked your roommate too?"You spat coffee on yourself.You glared at him as you dabbed at your shirt with your napkin. "Not that it's any of your business," you said, "but no. I haven't. Chanyeol's not--"Baekhyun's eyes widened, and he interrupted you. "Chanyeol?" He repeated.You stopped dabbing at your shirt for a moment. "Uh, yeah?" Did he know him? "Why?"Baekhyun smirked. "No reason," he said. "It's just a Korean name."You eyed him suspiciously. You weren't sure you bought it, but you returned to what you'd been saying. "Chanyeol's not like that," you said. "He's just a friend."Baekhyun raised an eyebrow. "Like how Sehun's just your therapist?"You clenched your jaw."You fucked him again," Baekhyun continued, his eyes appraising you. "I can just tell. You know you can't keep doing that, right?" You weren't stupid. You knew that."It's none of your business," you said again.Baekhyun leaned closer to you, his eyes narrow once more. "Actually, it is. You're my girlfriend." You winced. He pretended not to notice. "And as such, you shouldn't be fucking other people."You narrowed your eyes right back at him. "Well, I'm certainly not fucking you," you said nastily, but he didn't even flinch."Well, not right now you're not," he said. "But never say never, sweetheart."You were seriously going to punch him. "Shut the hell up. I'm never touching you again."Baekhyun opened his mouth to retort, but an elderly woman cut him off."Well aren't you two just the cutest!" She declared as she passed, on her way to the bathroom or something. She paused at your table, smiling down at the two of you, and you were flabbergasted.Bekhyun smiled the most glorious smile and reached out and took your hand. To your surprise, heat shot up your arm from where he touched you, and you almost shivered right there. Shut up, you thought at your traitorous body as you smiled at the old woman. "Thank you," Baekhyun said to her, and hell if he didn't look like sunshine itself."How long have you two been together?" The woman asked. You clenched your teeth as you smiled. She's being sweet and old, you reminded yourself. Not nosy and rude. She means nothing by it.Still, you couldn't help yourself. "Oh, we're not together," you said. The old woman's smile turned to a frown. She rounded on Baekhyun, hands on her hips."And why not?" She asked him. She nodded her head at you. "She's extremely pretty, young man. You better get her before someone else does."You grinned. Baekhyun looked speechless, for once, and you were just starting to seriously enjoy it when the woman rounded on you again and said, "And you, young lady. He's clearly a keeper. This is the 21st century! You ask him out already!"Your cheeks were bright pink. Baekhyun smirked at you. I'm a keeper, he mouthed, and you had to resist the urge to stick your tongue out at him. "Martha?" An old man shuffled over. He took the old woman by the waist and said, "Are you bothering these two kids?"Martha looked offended."Not at all," Baekhyun said. "But we were just about to leave." He rose from his seat, and you were happy to follow, if it meant the conversation with Martha would be over. Baekhyun took out a ten dollar bill and left it on the table next to your coffee. He nodded at Martha and said, "It was nice meeting you, ma'am." Then, he dragged you from the restaurant like it was on fire."I didn't think she was that bad," you commented as he pulled you out the door and then roughly, his hands on your shoulders, shoved you against the alley wall."Shut up," he said breathlessly, and then his mouth was on yours.You gasped, and he shoved you harder against the wall, his arms moving to trap you, one on either side of your head. He kissed you angrily, so angrily, it was like you could taste his rage, and you took it, moaning against his lips and kissing him back. You knew, implicitly, that if you told him to stop, he would. No matter how much he had changed, he would stop.But you didn't tell him to stop."Stop fucking Sehun, please," he begged as he kissed you, and you mumbled something nonsensical in response. Baekhyun's tongue found yours and you leaned into the kiss, pushing off of the wall and wrapping your arms around his waist, pulling him to you. He had to lean down to kiss you, you knew, and he'd never had a problem with it before. So it surprised you, then, when without a warning, he hoisted you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around him to avoid falling back down. He slammed your back against the wall again. "Please, baby, please," he pleaded, his voice scratchy. He pressed kisses to your lips over and over again, and it was like he was trying to devour you. You felt as if you were on drowning, drowning in the way he felt, in his hands on your ass, holding you up, the feel of the skin of his back on your fingertips as you slid your hands up his shirt."I'm not your baby," you mumbled as he kissed you. He bit at your lip, hard, and you let out a sharp noise of pleasure at the sensation."Be my baby, then." He was begging, pleading between kisses, and you were melting. Melting. But you couldn't forget, wouldn't forget--Do not think me above getting Sehun fired, he'd threatened. There's nothing I wouldn't do.At that, you broke away from him, sobs heaving in your chest before you could process what was going on. Baekhyun didn't try to kiss your lips again, he caught you as you clutched at him, and he crouched, sliding you down the wall until you were sitting on his lap, sobbing hysterically into his shirt."Y/N," he said, and you could hear genuine pain in his voice. "Baby, please don't cry. Please, baby." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. You cried even harder. "Baby, please, please don't cry. Y/N..."It made no sense, why you would break down clutching onto the one person who was making you break down in the first place. For you to seek comfort in the one person who had only brought you anything but.But there you were, crying, clutching onto Byun Baekhyun, as he murmured your name over and over again, only your name, always your name. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chanyeol knew something was wrong the instant you got back to the dorm, but you wouldn’t talk about it. He asked you once, twice. Three times. But you just shook your head, your lips tight. “Is that guy still blackmailing you?” He demanded. You winced. You regretted ever saying anything about it. You’d needed someone to talk to sure, and you hadn’t given anything away, okay, but still, what the fuck, who shares that kind of information? You shook your head. You hoped he would take that as a ‘no’, because you didn’t want to lie to him. You couldn’t look him in the eye and tell him, no, you were out of the woods. So you hoped he would drop it. He didn’t. “Y/N--” he yelled from outside of the bathroom door, where you’d locked yourself as you cried. “Y/N, do I need to call someone? The school counselor? Or… the cops?” He sounded lost. He stopped talking for a moment, for just long enough that you thought he might have given up on you. Then, he said, “I just, if you’re not safe--” “I’m safe,” you said, and you swung the door open, meeting his eyes. If there was one thing you knew, it was that you were safe. As annoying, as rude, and as indecipherable Baekhyun was, you knew there was no way in hell he would hurt you. Physically. Chanyeol met your eyes, and he seemed to be able to see that you were sincere. “I’m safe, Chanyeol,” you repeated, and he seemed to soften. All of the air came out of him, and he slouched a little. Hesitant, you took a step out of the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Then, you gave him a hug. It was nice to hug Chanyeol. He was tall and a little clunky, but he hugged you back, and tears stung in your eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked quietly. You pulled away, wiping furiously at your face. “I’m fine,” you lied unconvincingly. Chanyeol said nothing as the two of you made your way to your dorm. He was silent as you slipped off your shoes, even as you climbed under the covers fully clothed. It was when the both of you were in bed that he finally said, “Y/N, we’re friends, right?” You looked over to his bed in the dark, eyes wide. “Of course,” you said. Your heart levitated, burning, in your chest, and you waited for him to say more. But he only said, “Right”, and then rolled over on his side, his back to you. Your tongue dried up in your mouth. Before you could say something else, anything else, the loud noise of a text tone interrupted you. It was your phone. [Sweet dreams, Y/N.] - Professor Byun You set the phone down and went to bed. Chanyeol was gone when you woke up. You tried not to take this personally, but it was a Thursday morning-- one of the mornings when you had foreign literature with him, and usually that meant he would walk to class with you. Not today, though. You stared up at the ceiling from your bed. You were clad still in yesterday’s outfit, and it was getting more and more uncomfortable the longer you stayed there. You knew you should move. You knew you had to move. But did you want to move? No. What the hell was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just establish a normal relationship? Chanyeol was more than nice, more than sweet, more than understanding. And there you were, lying to him, avoiding him, and making him feel like he wasn’t really your friend. It wasn’t like you wanted it to be that way, sure, but it still was. You fucking hated it. You unplugged your phone from where it sat charging by your bed. You saw that you still had ample time to get to class-- your alarm hadn’t even gone off yet-- but that wasn’t why you were on it. You flicked to your messages, ignoring the one from Baekhyun still, and typed in Chanyeol’s name. You bit your lip as you typed your text. Was he truly mad at you? Were you imagining things? Making a mountain out of a molehill? You shook your head, thinking about him turning his back on you last night, the way he’d said, “Right.” You stared at the text for almost a whole minute before you sent it. [Are we still on to hang tonight?] - Y/N You didn’t expect an answer right away, so it surprised you when before you could even set your phone down, you saw the typing bubble pop up. [Yes!!!] - Chanyeol [Sorry I didn’t wait for you] - Chanyeol You looked over at his empty bed. It’s no big deal, you typed. I’m sorry about last night. You checked the time again. Your alarm would go off soon. You switched into your clock app to shut it off, and then set your phone down. You should probably start to get dressed. The last thing you needed right now was to be late to Professor Asshole’s class. But it wasn’t Professor Asshole’s class that you should have been worried about. As ever, it was Baekhyun’s. He didn’t say a word to you. Didn’t call you to stay after class, didn’t make eye contact with you, didn’t even breathe in your direction. You were quaking in your chair. Yixing noticed. “Professor Byun… is he ignoring you?” He asked curiously as Baekhyun elaborated on a specific grammar rule in the front of the classroom. You tried to appear nonchalant. “What do you mean?” Was Baekhyun’s cold shoulder really so obnoxious that other kids were noticing it? Was he even giving you the cold shoulder? Or just wisening up about interacting in front of your peers? Yixing gave you a look. “What do you mean, what do I mean. He always harasses you. Remember?” With a sigh, you looked over at him. He meant well, he really did. But him paying attention to your relationship with Baekhyun was the last thing you effing needed. “I talked to him after class about it,” you said, which was relatively true. You had texted him that you meeting him after every class was too obvious. “He apologized and said he’d make an effort not to single me out anymore.” Yixing hardly seemed appeased. “Well, he’s doing a fantastic job,” he grumbled. “This side of the classroom hasn’t even gotten a cursory glance since class started.” You rolled your eyes. “You can’t have it both ways,” you said. “Either you want him to single me out, or you want him to ignore me. Pick one.” Yixing shot you another look. “Why can’t he just interact with you as if you’re a normal student?” You wanted to sigh. Why, indeed. Your phone went off three times in your bag in the time it took you to sit down with Chanyeol in the commons center to grab a bit for dinner. He eyed your bag. “Are you gonna get that?” He asked. It was either Baekhyun, Sehun, or your parents. You wanted to talk to none of them. “No,” you said pleasantly, and he let the subject drop, if only for a few minutes. The two of you were sitting in the corner of the dining area, plates piled high with the meal of the day, and you were trying not to be obvious about how guilty you felt. You toyed with the salad on your plate as Chanyeol ate without a care, but eventually, you caved. “I’m really sorry,” you said, sighing, and you set your fork down. You felt him looking at you. “Why?” You glanced up, and he was arching an eyebrow. You looked away. “I’m the worst friend ever,” you mumbled, looking down at your food. Chanyeol said nothing. “Like, you’re probably the sweetest guy I’ve ever met, and all we ever do when we even interact is talk about me, or my problems, or…” You shook your head. “I suck.” Chanyeol was silent for a moment. Then: “In your defense,” he began, “your life is kind of ridiculous.” Your head shot up at that, and you glared at him. He laughed. “What?” He took another bite of his meal. “I mean, look at it from my perspective.” He chewed. “You’ve got shit parents. Beyond shit parents. Like, if I had your parents, I’d be way more of a mess.” You crossed your arms. “I hope you’re going somewhere with this,” you said. Chanyeol ignored you. “The only person you really trust is your therapist,” he continued, “which is nice, but also kind of fucked up, because, you know, you should be able to trust your friends and family.” At that, you interjected. “I trust you,” you said. He raised his eyebrows again. “Alright,” he said. “Who’s blackmailing you, then?” You were silent. “Right.” He nodded, his expression sour. “That’s what I thought.” Chanyeol set his fork down and looked at you, really looked at you. “You know what your problem is, Y/N?” He asked, and his voice wasn’t unkind, but you still felt your heart twist in your chest. You could hardly breathe, all of the sudden. “No,” you said. Chanyeol leaned forward. “You isolate yourself,” he said. “You never ask anyone for help. You never tell anyone who can help you what’s going on in your life. Have you talked with your therapist about this person who’s blackmailing you?” You didn’t answer. Technically, yes, you had, but you didn’t want to lie to Chanyeol. The way you’d discussed Baekhyun with Sehun wasn’t the way Chanyeol was suggesting you talk with your therapist about your problem, and you knew it. Chanyeol looked away from you. “Exactly.” He shook his head. “You know, Y/N, I like you and all, but seriously, girl. Why are you doing this to yourself? When someone is hurting you, you ask for help.” You ground your teeth. “It’s not that simple,” you said, and it wasn’t. Maybe Chanyeol was right. Maybe you were a untrusting mess that needed to ask for help. But he didn’t know the whole story, and he didn’t know you. “Enlighten me, then,” Chanyeol said, and he sounded a little desperate. You looked into his eyes, and you saw not judgment or malice there, but a desire to understand. To help. Any anger that had blossomed inside of you died. You looked down at your food. “I can’t,” you said. Chanyeol made a noise of frustration. “And why not?” He demanded. “Y/N, I’m trying to be your friend, here. I just want you to be okay.” “Maybe I am okay,” you said, as you stared at your salad. “Maybe I’m handling it on my own.” Chanyeol scoffed. “Like how you were handling it last night? When you came home with your face all puffy from crying?” That was hardly fair. You glared up at him. “I’m doing my best,” you snapped. You tried to remind yourself that this sweet boy just wanted to help you, but you were getting angry again. Sehun would have told you that you were getting defensive, trying to protect yourself from being hurt. In the past, letting people “help” you had never gone too well. What evidence did you have that Chanyeol would be different? “And what I’m trying to say is, what if your best isn’t good enough?” Chanyeol asked, his eyes wide. He reached out for your hand. “Y/N, I--” “Well, look who it is!” You seized up. What the hell was he doing here? You and Chanyeol both saw him stalking over to your table, grin on his handsome face at the same time. You and Chanyeol, however, had very different reactions to his arrival. “Baek!” Chanyeol exclaimed, and he rose from his seat, crushing the man into a hug. You stared. What…? Your mind flashed, and suddenly you could hear snippets of a conversation had just the night before in your mind. Baekhyun’s eyes widened, and he interrupted you. “Chanyeol?” He repeated. You stopped dabbing at your shirt for a moment. “Uh, yeah?” Did he know him? “Why?” Baekhyun smirked. “No reason,” he said. “It’s just a Korean name.” They knew each other. Your roommate and Baekhyun knew each other. And they were clearly friends, by the looks of it. Fuck, fuck, fuck me. You rose unsteadily from your seat. “Y/N! This is my friend, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol started happily as he pulled out of the hug. “I, um, know,” you said. “I mean, I know him. Sort of. I mean, he’s my professor.” God, you were rambling. Shut the fuck up! “Not that I knew you two were friends.” Why were you still talking? “I, um.” You shifted awkwardly on your feet. “Hi,” you said to Baekhyun. He raised an eyebrow at you. “Hi,” he said back, in an almost mocking manner. You narrowed your eyes. You better not try anything in front of Chanyeol. So help me God, I will kill you. Chanyeol didn’t seem to notice Baekhyun’s attitude. “Y/N’s my roommate,” he said, ushering his friend over to your table. Oh God, please don’t invite him to eat with us. Please don’t invite him to eat with us. You didn’t think you could take that level of weird. Like: Ah, yes, let me just have a nice, relaxing dinner with my puppy-dog roommate and the bastard sex-god who’s blackmailing me into dating him. Fucking great . “I see,” Baekhyun said. He didn’t take the third empty chair, which left the three of you awkwardly standing around the table. His eyes appraised you. “Baek’s been my friend my whole life,” Chanyeol said. “He’s the reason I came to study here in America. He wrote one of my letters of recommendation!” Your heart was starting to crush itself to death. The way Chanyeol was looking at Baekhyun-- the way he was talking about him-- the boy clearly admired him, clearly looked up to him, clearly loved him. You knew implicitly then that no matter what Chanyeol said, you could never, ever tell him about Baekhyun. Baekhyun was eyeing you up and down, not so subtly. You glared at him, hoping he’d take a hint. “I was texting you,” he said.Your heart stopped.Chanyeol blinked. “Um?” was all that could come out of your mouth. Fluidly, Baekhyun sat down, folding his hands before him as you scrambled to sit, too. “About your internships. Remember?” Your… what? Baekhyun’s eyes met yours, and you remembered-- how could you have forgotten? “I am not letting you go home to that. You will be staying with me during breaks until you graduate, or until you manage to emancipate yourself.” He walked around to the other side of his desk, opening a drawer and rifling through it to find something in there as you stared, unblinking. “I can get you internships almost anywhere you want. What are you interested in?” “I-- I--” You had no idea. You couldn’t exactly process what was going on, everything seemed surreal and foggy. Like a nice dream you’d wake up from any second. “Ah-- yeah,” you said, rather stupidly. Seriously, how had you forgotten about Baekhyun offering to get you an internship? Again you found yourself asking: what the hell was wrong with you? You knew what the hell was wrong with you. You’d allowed yourself to get absorbed into him, and then into Sehun, had allowed yourself to get unbelievably distracted until you had forgotten about the opportunity provided to let you escape your parents. “Yeah,” you repeated. Chanyeol was starting to look at you as if you were slow. “I’m sorry,” you said quickly. “I was talking with Chanyeol. I heard my phone go off, but--” Baekhyun held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. His face was very kind. When he looked like that, it was almost impossible to imagine he’d be capable of the things you knew he was capable of.Like blackmail. Threatening. Cruelty.Kissing you like the two of you would die if he stopped.Chanyeol’s interest was piqued. “Is Y/N looking for an internship studying Korean?” He sounded pretty excited. It made sense, though, considering that’s where he was from. “Is she looking to study abroad?” Baekhyun smirked. “I don’t know. Is she?” He focused his attention on you. You tried not to glare. Normal students didn’t glare at their professors. Especially not the ones who were helping them get internships seemingly out of the goodness of their own hearts. “I was more interested in journalism,” you said, which was true. The internships about journalism had been the ones you’d taken the most note of, especially the ones at magazines you knew. Chanyeol seemed a tad bit deflated. “Well, if you do decide to study abroad, you can always stay with me during breaks,” he offered. “I don’t live that far from Seoul.” You felt your entire being melting. He was the sweetest boy you’d ever known. Officially. Seriously, honestly, entirely. You didn’t effing deserve him. “That’s a good idea,” Baekhyun said, but his eyes told a different story. He was eyeing you possessively, and you remembered him saying that you could stay with him during breaks if you needed to… you gulped. Baekhyun turned to Chanyeol. “Do you mind if I steal Y/N from you?” He asked. Chanyeol looked a little surprised. “I want to discuss internship options with her in private. At my office, if you will… it shouldn’t take too long. I’d get her back to you before the night is through, in case the two of you have plans.” After a moment, Chanyeol nodded. “Sounds like a deal,” he shrugged. He nodded at you as he reluctantly rose. You doubted Baekhyun actually wanted to talk to you about internships. The only thing you could think as he led you away was: what the hell is it now? “Come away with me this weekend,” he said almost the second the two of you were out of earshot.You turned bright red and shushed him. “Don’t say shit like that where people can hear you,” you hissed. Didn’t he remember that his entire hold over you was that you wanted absolutely no one to know that you were with him? Baekhyun only looked amused. “What would you prefer I say? ‘Y/N, you look so fucking sexy today that I could only think about fucking you my entire lecture’?” He gave you that fucking smirk that made you weak in the knees. Get it together, you thought at your knees. You forced yourself to scowl, and ignored the way your heart was racing at his words. “No,” you said. “I’d prefer if you let me eat dinner with my roommate, if you will.” Baekhyun scoffed. “It looked like the two of you were arguing before I arrived,”” he said. Damn it. Now he decides to be perceptive? You didn’t have much to say to that. “Why do you want me this weekend?” You asked, trying not to notice the way your stomach flipped at the thought of what spending a weekend with him might entail. What the fuck, Y/N. Did you forget everything? How terrible he became when Sehun found you out? Did you forget about Sehun, for that matter? I repeat: what. The hell. Is wrong with you. “I can’t go anywhere with you, besides,” you made yourself say. Baekhyun stopped walking, pausing halfway out of the commons’ cafeteria door. He turned his gaze on you. “And why is that?” He asked coolly. You shifted uncomfortably. “Because-- move it, would you?” You gave him a light shove through the doorway. People were starting to line up behind you. “Because I don’t want to.” Baekhyun started walking again, but he was eyeing you. “That’s not how it seemed last night,” he said. You glared at him. Again: don’t say shit like that where people can hear you!!!! “I burst into tears last night,” you said. Baekhyun’s expression darkened. “I remember,” he said, his voice quieter. Then, he grabbed your arm gently and pulled you to the side, away from the ebb and flow of students entering and exiting the commons building. “Look, Y/N,” he said. “I want to spend the weekend with you. I’m not going to do anything inappropriate to you. Not,” he added, “unless you ask me to.” You glared at him even harder. “I’m not going to ask you to,” you said. But it might have been a lie. You weren’t much in control of yourself anymore, you had learned. Especially not around him. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You tapped your foot impatiently as you waited for the slot ahead of yours to finally leave Sehun's office. To say you were anxious would be an understatement. You were positively freaking out. All you wanted was to get the whole thing over and done with, so that you could go back to your dorm and sleep away Baekhyun's request, the fight with Chanyeol, and whatever traumatizing thing was bound to happen during your session with Sehun.It was the first time you'd been since... since he'd found out about you and Baekhyun, since you'd fallen into his bed. You weren't sure exactly how you were supposed to feel or what you were supposed to be doing. I mean, all you really knew was that your life was a mess, and if it weren't for your parents' insurance paying for one therapy session a week, you surely would have said, "NO THANK YOU" when he'd called to schedule an appointment.But there you were. Sitting, watching the clock as it ticked every so slowly, waiting for the session before you to finally just be over. You kept jiggling your leg, so hard that you could see it irritating the other people in the waiting room, but every time you pressed down on the offending leg with your hand, the other one would start up again. Eventually, you just gave up.Before the other citizens of the waiting room could band together to chop off both of your legs, Sehun's office door opened.You sucked in a breath.He looked just as he'd always looked, just as he'd always looked when he wasn't mussed-up from sex or sleeping all night. His platinum hair was hanging in his face, but it didn't look messy-- no, it looked suave, professional. His eyes met yours.Nothing happened. You didn't know what you had been expecting-- maybe that all the memories of being with him, the memories of him fucking you would go away like a dream once you saw him back in his natural habitat? But the memories stayed. If anything, you could hear him groaning in your ear, could feel his hands on every inch of your skin. You swallowed.Sehun nodded at you, a stiff, cordial nod. You rose from your chair, clumsily, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Your hands were numb. You hardly noticed when a skinny boy exited from Sehun's open office door, bidding his therapist a goodbye and then brushing past you with an apology. All you could think was, Oh God, what am I doing here.As soon as the door shut, you started hyperventilating.Not, like, lowkey hyperventilating, with little gasps and endearing tremors. No. Full-on, flat-out, freaking hyperventilating, which resulted in you clutching a pillow from Sehun's couch and biting into it as you struggled to breathe."Y/N? Y/N!" Sehun rushed over to you, abandoning his post by the door as he rushed to make sure you were okay. "Y/N, breathe. Breathe. In, out. In, out. In, hold four seconds. Out, hold four seconds." He was repeating the mantra he'd taught you years ago for coping with attacks like this. He repeated the words, over and over again until you were following them. Finally, your breathing slowed back down, and you let go of the pillow, cognizant of the tears streaming down your face as you stared at his carpeted floor. You couldn't look at him. "Y/N..." He sounded very, very sad. "Maybe we should--""No," you said. You knew, whatever he was going to say, you wouldn't like it. "No," you repeated.Sehun was silent for a moment. "You didn't even listen to what I was going to say," he said. "I just, I can't help but think that maybe we shouldn't-- shouldn't do this anymore." Against your will, your eyes flew to meet his. He was serious. "Maybe I need to help you find a new therapist."Your heart seized up in your chest. No, no, no, no. You shook your head, and the rapid breathing was starting to make a reappearance. No, no, no. You would not lose him. Sehun was quite possibly the first and only person in your life who had ever genuinely cared about you. God knew your parents hadn't. You couldn't lose that. You couldn't."No, no, no, no," you emphasized, your breathing shallow. He reached for you in concern, but you jerked your hand away, curling up into a little ball on his couch. "No!""Y/N." His voice was pained. "I just think that-- I know that this isn't right, for us to-- well, for us to be in the same room, even."At that-- before you could even register your body's movements as your own-- you rose from the couch, fists clenched, and you stared at him with wild, tear-stained eyes. "No." You said, and your voice was shaking. "No. Do you understand me? No. You're the only person who's ever fucking cared about me!"Sehun rose too. "I care about you too much," he said, "Why can't you understand that? Jesus Christ, Y/N, I-- I'm in fucking love with you!"Your eyes went wide. Too wide. Sehun saw, and he cursed and looked away, the rise and fall of his chest uneven. You could hardly even feel yours moving. ... what? You vaguely recalled Baekhyun making snide comments about Sehun having feelings for you when he'd found you out, but you had brushed it off as chatter. You'd just thought-- well, you'd figured you'd both been out of your minds the times you'd slept together. But, shit, if Sehun was in love with you..."Oh my God," you whispered. Tears started to sting in your eyes. You were selfish, so selfish. God, what the hell was wrong with you? It all made sense now. His concern, his kindness, everything. Fuck anyone thinking he'd taken advantage of you-- you were the one taking advantage of his feelings for you, without even knowing it.You hastily wiped at your eyes and saw with clearer vision that he had sat back down. His legs were crossed, and he had his arms folded. He nodded at the couch. "Sit down, Y/N," he said tiredly. You hurried to obey. You were silent, tears leaking one by one from your eyes. You cursed yourself in your head. If anyone had the right to be crying, it was him, not you."I'm sorry," you said, horrified at yourself. Your voice was soft, but you knew he heard. He said nothing. You said it again. "I'm sorr--""Don't," Sehun said levelly, cutting you off. His eyes met yours. He appeared to have collected himself once more. That face was back again, the almost-cold one that had scared you so much when you'd first met him. You bit at your lip. How long had he felt this way? Surely he hadn't fallen for you at first sight. You'd been too young, and he'd been too paternal. No, somewhere along the line, things had shifted, you realized. You had always known it, deep down.No one is that close with their therapist.You shrunk into yourself, your shoulders curling in. You had never felt so small.Sehun's gaze softened. "I don't need you to apologize, Y/N," he said. "If anything, I should be the one apologizing. You've done nothing wrong."You shook your head. "That's not true," you said. Your voice was hoarse. You didn't elaborate, but you were sure he knew you were right. You'd done a hell of a lot wrong, starting with not reporting Baekhyun immediately, before he'd gotten this intense of a hold on you. You didn't want to blame yourself for everything that happened...But you sure as hell weren't blameless.Your eyes drifted away from Sehun, towards the window in his office. When you'd first started coming, you'd looked exclusively out of the window, never at him. He was too intimidating, even after he'd told you that his face was just his face, he wasn't glaring at you. Well, he should be glaring at me now, you thought. He should be effing furious. This is all my fault. All of it. How quickly you devolved into fatalistic guilt. I should have reported Baekhyun. Who cares if the university might not've believed me? At least I could say I did something. At least I could say I tried. Now..."Y/N." You knew he'd changed topics by the sound of his voice. He was stern. "Are you still seeing Baekhyun?"Your stomach flipped. Why would he ask that? Were you that transparent that he could tell you were thinking about his friend? Had he not believed you when you'd told him you would stay away?Of course, he had good reason not to believe that, as you hadn't, but that hadn't been your choice, either. Baekhyun had new leverage. He had knowledge of your relationship with Sehun, and you couldn't allow Sehun's professional life to be messed up by your mistake. So of course you hadn't stayed away from him, of course you were still seeing him.But you knew you couldn't say that to Sehun. If he knew that Baekhyun's leverage over you was your illicit relationship, he would turn himself in at once. You eyed him furtively. Yes, he was that kind of guy-- you knew him well enough to know that.You would not allow him to destroy his life for your sake.This is all my fault, you thought. And then you lied to your therapist."No," you said, your voice strong. You forced yourself to look in his eyes. He wouldn't believe you otherwise.Sehun examined you. There was a beat of silence, in which your heart thrummed insanely fast in your chest. Your palms started to sweat. It was the first time you'd ever directly lied to Sehun. You felt terrible. But what choice did you have? "Are you lying to me?" he asked quietly.Your thrumming heart twinged with pain. My fault, my fault, my fault. If you hadn't been so stupid, you wouldn't have to lie to him. If you hadn't been so fucking selfish, you wouldn't have hurt him.In that moment, you swore you hated yourself.You looked away from him. You said nothing, but your inability to look him in the eye said more than enough. He cursed. "Sehun--" You began, your voice weak, but he cut you off. "No. Save it." You looked back at him, and saw a dark look on his features. He shook his head. "Damn it, Y/N. What is he holding over you? What is he doing to you?"The words were laced with such venom that you flinched. Sehun noticed, but he couldn't seem to push his anger away this time.Your heart was climbing up into your throat. You were about to puke it out, it felt like."Is he touching you?" Sehun's voice had never been so hostile. You said nothing, just started to shake. "Is he bribing you?! I can-- I have money, Y/N, if that's what it is. I can give you want you need. You don't need to--"You shook your head at him in disbelief. Out of nowhere, anger flooded your veins. You shot to your feet, a glare to rival his gracing your face. When you spoke, your words were ice. "I am not a prostitute."Sehun blanched. "That's not-- I wasn't saying--"You shook your head again. "That's exactly you were saying," you snapped. In the back of your mind, there was a voice telling you to calm down, telling you that you were overreacting, that you had let all of your emotions pile up and they were all coming out at once on poor Sehun. But you told that voice to shut the hell up. "You know what Sehun? Fuck you. I'm out of here."In a furious haze, you grabbed your bag, hoisting it over your shoulder as he rose to try to stop you."Y/N, I didn't mean--" He tried, blocking your path to the door.You held a shriek in your throat. "Get out of my way, I swear to fucking God--"The door flew open. But it was not Sehun who had touched it, nor was it you.It was Baekhyun.Your jaw dropped. Baekhyun stalked into the office like he owned it. Hell, he was rich enough, maybe he did, you thought."What the hell are you doing here?" Sehun snarled, moving to block you from him. Like that would sever your connection to him, once and for all.Things were not that easy.Baekhyun scoffed at Sehun blocking you. "Please," he said. "All I have to do is tell her to come, and she will." Slowly, ever so slowly, a terrible yet beautiful smirk curved on his lips. "But you would know all about her coming, wouldn't you?"You sucked in a sharp breath of air.Sehun said nothing. Baekhyun continued."You know, I didn't think you had it in you," he said, appraising his friend with burning eyes. "To come onto her, after all these years. You know I've always known, right? That you were in love with her?"You froze behind Sehun. 'Always known'... how long had this been a thing?And if Baekhyun had always known.... Why had he approached you to break his heart in the first place? "Unless he wanted to break Sehun's too..." you found yourself muttering, too quiet to understand. Both of the boys ignored you."I don't know what you're talking about," Sehun said finally. He crossed his arms. "I'm going to ask now that you leave. You're not welcome here." He gestured at the office door.Baekhyun didn't move. "I'll leave," he said, "as long as Y/N comes with me."You weren't breathing. Sehun scoffed."There's no way in hell I'm letting her leave with you," he said.And just like that, your anger was back. "Excuse me," you said as you stepped around him, into Baekhyun's vantage for the first time, "You have no say on who I leave with, thanks." You remembered his earlier comment, and your blood was boiling again. "Unless you're willing to pay for my company, that is."Baekhyun's eyes flashed. "You called her a prostitute?" He snarled, rounding on Sehun, who stood his ground, his own glare a force to be reckoned with.Sehun sneered. "Isn't that what you're treating her like?" He queried. "A goddamn prostitute? Manipulating her-- forcing her to be with you? If it isn't with money, it's power. It's the same damn thing, Baek, the same fucking thing, and you'll never learn--"Baekhyun was almost shaking with anger. "I would never force her to do anything."At that, Sehun laughed. "Right," he said. "Tell me. Did Y/N over here volunteer for your little experiment? Did you or did you not blackmail her-- using your place of power as her goddamn professor to force her to play along?"Baekhyun didn't flinch, even though Sehun was right. He took a step closer. "Judgment's fucking rich coming from you," he spat. "Did you or did you not use your place of power as Y/N's therapist to fuck her brains out?"The boys were looming in each other's faces, looking just about ready to throw down in a real, bloody fight right then and there.You had to cut in. "Baekhyun, please," you moved quickly, latching onto his arm. You tried to yank him away from Sehun, but he wouldn't budge. You felt his arm muscles tensing under your grip. "Baekhyun--"He whirled on you. "How are you even here with him?" He demanded, and you were shocked to see hurt in his eyes. "After what he's done to you?"You swallowed. "He's my therapist," you said thickly.Baekhyun scoffed. "Some fucking therapist," he said. He glared into Sehun's eyes for another moment, then turned his back on the man, sliding his hand into yours. "Come on, Y/N. We're going," he said, and he started towards the door.You didn't move. You were torn. Should you go with Baekhyun? Stay with Sehun? Go off on your own? You knew what the smartest answer would be, but you'd already promised Baekhyun you'd spend the weekend with him, and you didn't want to irrevocably damage your relationship with Sehun over this."Y/N--" Sehun reached for you, but with one swift tug on your arm, Baekhyun pulled you out of his reach. His hands smoothed over your back, and you could feel him looking at you, but you were looking at Sehun."Don't go," Sehun pleaded. "Please, Y/N--"Baekhyun's grip on you tightened. "Don't say her name like that," he said. "Don't say her name at all. Don't call, don't text, don't ever contact her again. She's mine."Then, without another word, Baekhyun dragged you from the office. You could do nothing but allow him to pull you away.He threw your body up against his car and kissed you fiercely. You slackened in his arms, your body betraying you. Somewhere along the line, your body must have decided he was home, even if your mind and heart hadn't. You eased into him as naturally as you would have eased into your own bed. All the pressure that had been building inside of you during Sehun's session burst like dam, and suddenly, you were threading your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.Damn the consequences, you thought. You could feel your phone going off in your back like mad, and you figured it was Sehun, or maybe even your parents, but you didn't check. It didn't matter. All that mattered was him, was the way you felt about him. You couldn't deny it any longer. You might not have known how your head and heart felt about this beautiful, enigmatic bastard who had marched into your life and demanded you break his heart. But your body recognized his as home.For the first time, it occurred to you, truly. When this ended-- and it had to end, terribly, with brimstone and fire-- Baekhyun would not be the only one destroyed. Your relationship was a bomb. And when you truly detonated, everyone-- you, him, Sehun, even Chanyeol-- would burn to ash in the explosion."This is all my fault," you whispered against Baekhyun's lips. He pulled away, and said nothing, just smoothed your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ears.He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. "Let's get away from here," he whispered against your skin.You closed your eyes. Say no, you said to yourself. Say no, before the explosion comes and we all fucking die. "Alright," you said.Sometimes, bombs just had to detonate. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Dark.The car-ride was dark, nighttime coming quickly after the eve. The two of you took it in silence, a surreal silence that seemed to radiate with unspoken things and emotions. You didn't know how to break it. "Baekhyun..." you said softly, hesitantly. He clutched the wheel with white knuckles, his entire form tense and angry. "I don't have any clothes."You waited anxiously for him to say something. For a while, he just stared out of the windshield at the open road. Then, he said shortly, "I'll buy you some" with a small glance in your direction. You sucked in a breath at the look in his eyes. Burning. He was on fire. You nodded.You didn't say anything else for the rest of the journey.Black.The marble floor of the hotel was black."Byun," Baekhyun said to the lady in chiffon behind the golden counter. "Two rooms." You weren't intending to listen-- you were trying to distance yourself from him actually, because he seemed... volatile-- but you overheard, and a knot in your chest that you hadn't even been cognizant of eased itself out. Two rooms. You hadn't put much thought into the sleeping arrangements on this trip, mostly because you'd adamantly convince yourself that he was joking, but you were thankful to hear that he had. And that he'd had the decency to book you your own room. Out of nowhere, your heart hurt.You tried to scowl as you looked away from him. Your heart shouldn't be hurting over the same asshole who was blackmailing both you and your therapist, no matter how good he was at kissing. Period.But you already knew that. You already knew how entirely goddamn stupid you were being, but that hadn't stopped you from being stupid yet. You were still here, weren't you? Still compliant? Still a willing victim.And you were at the point where you didn't care what that said about you.You were shaken from your thoughts as he came over to you, two plastic keycards in his hands. You caught yourself staring at him, and looked away. "We're on the top floor," he informed you quietly, one hand finding the small of your back so he could lead you out of the lobby. You would have protested the behavior-- you were almost sure-- if not for the fact that you were feeling extremely unlike yourself. You didn't have that usual fight in you. You felt tired, and you weren't sure why, or of what."I booked two separate rooms," Baekhyun said without looking at you as he pressed the button to summon the elevator. You nodded, then realized he couldn't see."Thank you," you said softly, and you looked down at your feet. The elevator dinged as the doors slid open. The two of you entered in silence.Baekhyun carried a small duffel bag, filled with clothes he had purchased for you for the weekend at the local mall, despite your sincerest protests. I don't need that many things, you'd said. Put that back.But it would look so beautiful on you, he'd said, and that had been that.It was a three hour drive from your Sehun's office to the nearest metropolitan area, where you were currently located. You'd been too offset by Baekhyun's tense grip on the wheel and terse silence to ask during the drive, but luckily he'd explained his motives for taking you so far away this weekend."I got you an interview," he'd said to you, abruptly, as you embarrassedly made your way around the delicates store. You'd looked up at him, a blush still firing in your cheeks from earlier, when the saleslady had accosted you and "your boyfriend" to take a look at the BDSM lingerie collection they had in the back of the store. "What?" You'd asked brilliantly. Total interview material, you'd thought instantly. "Where?"Baekhyun named one of the magazine companies you'd mentioned you were interested in-- way back when he'd first handed you the internship files. You couldn't believe he'd remembered. You dropped the t-shirt bra you'd been examining and, despite the million reasons why you shouldn't, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his body and burying your face in his chest. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," you said breathlessly, and tears started to well up in your eyes. You were halfway shocked by your own reaction, but the other half of you was too far gone to be surprised anymore. Embarrassed, you'd gone to pull back from him, but he'd reciprocated, hugging you in return and saying, mouth against your hair, "It's three PM on Saturday. Tomorrow."You'd pulled away, wiping at your eyes and trying not to think about the fact that you could now cross "Crying in a Victoria's Secret" off of your imaginary bucket list. "Why did you tell me?" You'd asked, wide-eyed, t-shirt bra forgotten as you played with the frayed strap of the carrying bag in your hands. It was Baekhyun's turn to flush pink. He looked so warm and lovely when he blushed. You hated yourself for noticing it. "I didn't want to have to bribe you to come with me," he said, looking away from you. You’d found that odd. Your entire relationship was essentially a bribe, right? What would one more manipulation hurt, in his eyes? He'd forced you to date him in the first place, latching onto you and obsessing over the girl from Sehun's office.The elevator dinged once more, the glossed golden doors opening to reveal a plush, carpeted hallway and glittering chandeliers. Your eyes couldn’t take any of it in.“This way.” Baekhyun gestured, leading you down the long corridor. You only stopped once you reached the end of the hall, finding him gesturing now at two doors, about fifteen feet apart. “That,” he pointed at the far one, the one on the very end of the hall, “is your room. The other is mine. There is a door that connects the two of them, which we can leave locked, if you'd like."You didn't know what to say. You stared.Baekhyun didn't seem to expect a response. He bustled ahead of you, unlocking your door and holding it open for you, ushering you inside. Almost robotically, you entered, brushing past him and feeling your skin crackle with imaginary static where you touched. Stop that, you thought at yourself. You made your way to the queen bed, sitting down on it for lack of anything else to do. You looked up, expecting Baekhyun to enter after you, but he was still by the door, which was ajar."I'll leave you to get settled in, okay?" The less you said-- the less fight you put up-- the more his tense demeanor from the office seemed to disappear, and the more concerned he seemed. "I'll be right in the other room. If you leave the door unlocked, I'll come in after I shower and tell you what I know about this interview."You nodded. Baekhyun hovered by the door for a second, as if he were waiting for you to say something. You almost thought you saw him open his mouth to say something, but he shook his head, and then he was gone.You laid back on the bed and closed your eyes.Colorless.The inside of your eyelids were colorless, as far as you could tell. You supposed it didn't really matter.What the fuck, you thought at yourself. There's something seriously wrong with you, you know. Yeah, you did know. You weren't sure if you'd always been this way-- this much of an idiot-- or if the Baekhyun had changed you. Or maybe it wasn't Baekhyun at all. Maybe it was the abuse.You just couldn't figure out what the hell you were doing. Fucking Sehun. Obeying Baekhyun. Why were you so complacent? Why were you so easy to use, so passive in your own life? Why were you so content to play the victim?Was this a side effect of being abused? Maybe it was that you were so afraid to upset those you viewed as more powerful than you, that you let them do whatever they wanted.You groaned, throwing an arm over your eyes, feeling a little less like a robot in that moment and more like a gargantuan fucking loser. You were only in your first year of university. You had social anxiety, yes, and a fucked up home life, but seriously, was that any excuse for everything in your life right then? You knew the answer: no. Especially not when you had a kind and sweet roommate who was more than willing to help you sort your life out. Especially not when you had a therapist who cared about you and a professor who, it seemed, genuinely wanted to protect you from your family. Maybe it was you. Maybe you just brought out the worst in Sehun and Baekhyun. Maybe your compliant nature begged them to take advantage of you. You didn't know.Before you could drive yourself mad thinking about it, you heard the chirping of your phone going off. You considered not answering it for a second, but then you thought, it might be Chanyeol, wondering where, exactly, I am. You opened your eyes and sat up, slapping your hand onto your phone and then bringing it to your ear after hitting the accept button-- all without looking at the caller ID.This left you significantly whiplashed when, expecting you hear Chanyeol's voice, you heard Sehun instead."Y/N?!" He asked wildly. A jolt of electricity ran through your body, and you sat up straighter. Your heart seemed to start beating again. Robot, no more. "Y/N?!"You unclogged your throat to speak. Somehow, a lump had formed at the very sound of his voice. "Sehun." You said his name quietly, afraid, somehow, that Baekhyun would hear you through the walls and come barging in. You glanced over at the door that linked your two rooms, saw that it was locked, and relaxed a bit.Sehun sighed into the line. "Jesus Christ, Y/N," he said, and he didn't elaborate on it. You didn't respond... biting at your lip, you thought about the look on his face as Baekhyun had called you his, as you'd let Baekhyun drag you from his office. It seemed stupid, your anger, now. He clearly hadn't been intending to call you a prostitute-- that's what had made you angry enough to go with Baekhyun in the first place, hadn't it? He'd just been worried about you. Caring about you. Like always.And what had you done, but prance out of his office with Baekhyun and disappear to God-knows-where.Tears stung in your eyes. "I'm sorry," you found yourself saying. "Oh my-- oh my God." What was wrong with you? You were asking yourself for the millionth time. "He-- He said he'd report you if I didn't-- if I didn't keep playing along. And I couldn't-- I couldn't just let him--" You were choking on your own words. "I couldn't just let him do that to you. You're all I have." The tears were falling, now, and your chest was heaving up and down. You were this close to another panic attack. You fought to keep yourself together. "You're all I have, so please don't be mad at me. Please don't be mad at me.""Y/N." His voice was sharp. "You're with him now?"You swallowed. "Not exactly," you said faintly. "We-- well, it's hard to explain.""Try."You swallowed again. "We're in the city. At a hotel."Sehun was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was a growl. "Let me get this straight," he said roughly. "You're in the city, where you don't want to be, with Baekhyun, who you don't want to be with, and you'll be sleeping with him, even though you don't want to, because you don't want me to get reported?"He was clearly losing his constant composure. You thought back to when you'd first seen him, and how scary he'd seemed. But Sehun's anger wasn't scary to you. It was crushing. Fix this, you yelled at yourself. Fix what you've fucked up, god damn it!You opened your mouth to try, but what came out was, "I'm not sleeping with him."You could hear Sehun exhale. "That's not what I meant," he said, his voice pinched. "I know you're not sleeping with him. You're--" Sleeping with you. The two of you were silent again. You thought back to what he had said in his office. I'm in fucking love with you. Your stomach twisted and roiled, and you wanted to throw up. All you could think was that when Baekhyun had asked you to break his heart, you hadn't intended to break Sehun's in the process."Y/N, you know I love you," Sehun said after a moment, his voice soft, gentle, all traces of the growl, vanished. "I love you. I love you, I've loved you for years, I love you more than you realize. I love you, and it's because I love you that I know you're kind and self-sacrificing to the point of martyrdom. It's who you are." He paused. You couldn't breathe. "But I am not your latest cause, and you will not be a martyr on my behalf."You weren't trying to be a martyr. Your voice was faint. "Sehun--""You will not be a martyr on my behalf," he repeated firmly. Your stomach hurt, and you knew something terrible was coming. Then, he said, "So I'm giving you an ultimatum." This could not be happening. You never should have come clean about why you were with Baekhyun. Now he was going to--"If you cannot manage to convince Baekhyun to let you go by the end of the weekend, I will report him, and myself." His voice was hard. "Then, you'll be free from both of us."You were gasping for air. "Sehun--" You tried to beg, but the line was already dead. Now he was going to ruin everything. Abyssal.The panic was abyssal, never-ending—seeping into every pore of your being and winding its way into your bones, cracking into your organs and making a scream rise in your throat. No. No, no, no. This cannot be happening. You caught your head in your hands, keeling over on your bad. He was going to turn himself in. He was going to turn himself in; he’d have to, there was no way you could convince Baekhyun to let you go. The boy might be slipping back into his charming façade, but you remembered how he’d been when you’d first been found out. You remembered how you’d ended up in this situation in the first place. It was Baekhyun who had started all of this. Not you. Not Sehun.And now Sehun was going to turn himself in. No. Absolutely not. You scrambled for your phone, hands shaking as you tapped out a message that read a little hysterical, even to you. You knew he wouldn’t respond if you called. So texting was your best bet.Sehun, it read. Don’t do this. Please don’t do this. I know what you may think, but you’re wrong. I wanted it as much as you did, so please. I’m old enough to consent, and I did, every time. Please think this through. You mean too much to me for you to end it like this. Please, call me, and don’t do anything rash. You felt a burning in your chest, and realized you weren’t breathing. You rectified the situation by frantically sucking in air. Oh God. Oh God. This can’t be happening.You shot up from your bed, suddenly unable to sit still for another second. You paced the room, half-crazed, checking your phone every ten seconds, knowing he wouldn’t respond but hoping against hope that he would. After a few minutes, you sent another text.[Please, please. I need you in my life. Please don’t take yourself out of it like this.] – Y/NAnd another.[Please don’t do this. I love you.] – Y/N Your hands were still shaking. You gnawed at your lip anxiously, waiting for him to say something, but still he said nothing, nothing. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried not to cry. Don’t jump to conclusions, you tried to tell yourself. He may be busy. Maybe he put his phone away.You shook your head, cursing at yourself. Why had you let it slip that that was what Baekhyun was still holding over your head? You could have lied and said literally anything else. It was like you wanted to put yourself in this situation. Before you could self-flagellate any more, your phone went off again. You jumped.Heart racing, you looked wildly down at the screen, and let out a low, meaningful curse when you saw who it was. It was not Sehun, as you’d hoped. Nor was it Chanyeol.It was your mother. “Fuck. Fuck.” What did she want? You weren’t sure that you could talk to her without completely and entirely breaking down.Still, you had no choice but to answer the call. Ignoring calls from your parents had only made things infinitely worse in the past. You knew better.You brought the phone to your ear after swiping ‘accept’, your heart racing. “Y-Yes?”Already, it was the wrong thing to say.“Is that how you answer the phone now?” Your mother snapped. “‘Yes?’ Like you were raised by wolves?”You felt one of your fists clench. “I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I meant to say, hello.”Your mother scoffed. “How does one say ‘yes’ instead of ‘hello’?" How does one nitpick every tiny thing their child does instead of loving them unconditionally? You supposed you both had your questions. You heard your father in the background. “Is she giving you attitude?” He asked. Your stomach clenched, just like your fist. Your eyes darted around your room, landing on the locked door that separated your room from Baekhyun’s. You remembered him saying he would come in after showering, and automatically, you went over to unlock it.“Let me on the phone,” your father ordered your mother. “Put it on speaker.” Your mother must have obeyed, because soon, both of their voices were accosting you. “Where are you?” Your mother demanded, as your father asked, “Why are you in the city?”Your heart flipped. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You were so stupid. You knew they tracked your phone. Why hadn’t you left it at your dorm with Chanyeol? Or come up with a lie, in case of a situation like this?Your hand started shaking too much for you to hold the phone. You pressed the ‘speaker’ button and set it down on the hotel nightstand. You sat on your bed, curling into the fetal position, almost despite yourself. Get it together, and lie, you told yourself, but no words would come.“I…” Oh my God. Where had your voice gone?“Are you with a boy?” Your father demanded, and you heard the sound of something slamming. You imagined him slamming his fist down on something, and tears sprang in your eyes again.Just as this happened, there was a small knock on the door connecting your room to Baekhyun’s. Before you could process what was happening, the door was opening, just as your mother was saying, “We raised you better than this, Y/N,” in a cold voice.As the phone was on speaker, Baekhyun could hear every word. You squeezed your eyes shut, and he paused in the doorway.“Say something,” your father spat. “You’re with a boy, aren’t you? Being—being some miserable slut, while you’re supposed to be fucking studying." “…’m not.” Your words were a whisper, but they must have reached your parents ears. You heard your father scoff.“Then why are you in the city? Without letting us know that you were going?” He questioned. “If you’re going to be a sneak, at least do it right.” He sounded disgusted. More tears escaped your eyes, and you curled in deeper against yourself. “And you want us to think you’re smart.”“We forbid you from dating, Y/N,” your mother snapped. “And you’ve gone against our wishes, like a whore. Well, if you want to go and get yourself knocked up, then—”She kept talking, but you didn’t hear it. Baekhyun’s hand had brushed your arm, and your eyes opened, tears spilling freely. You sat up, not looking at him. You had never felt more pathetic in your life. There you were, getting berated by your parents—called a whore and a prostitute, getting told that you would get kicked out of your house with no financial aid if you got pregnant—right in front of him. Him. He leaned in. “Tell them you’re here for an interview,” was what he whispered. “And then tell them you will give me their number. I will call them, alright? It’ll be okay.”You were almost numb. You didn’t even have it in you to nod. Your mother’s voice broke back through your consciousness.“Y/N, are you even listening to me?” She said, her voice shrill. “I swear to God, this is just like you. You act like you’re so responsible and independent, but you’re just a gigantic fucking child. So do us all a favor and stop pretending. It’s exhausting. You’re exhausting.”Baekhyun’s hand slid into yours and squeezed. Somehow, it gave you the strength to say, “I’m listening, mom, sorry,” in a relatively normal voice. You cleared your throat. “I just don’t know what to say. I feel really stupid right now—I wasn’t thinking about letting you know I’d left campus, I’m sorry. But I hope it’ll make you feel better to know that I’m not with a boy—I’m here for an interview for an internship.” That seemed to shut them up for half a second.Then: “You didn’t ask us if you could get an internship.” It was your father. You swallowed.“I’m sorry,” you said. “I just thought—”“See, that’s the problem,” he interrupted you. “You need to stop ‘just thinking.’ Because whenever you think, you do something immeasurably stupid.”You had to bury your face in Baekhyun’s shoulder to muffle your wail of pain. It hurt to hear them talk to you like this, no matter if they’d always been this way or not. It was one thing to be abused and unaware of it. It was easier to bounce back, when you thought, Oh, this is normal, this is okay, this is a fluke. It was another thing entirely to be confronted with the terrible reality of being trapped in such a cycle.Baekhyun kissed the top of your head. “Tell them to talk to me about it,” he said in your ear, quiet enough so they wouldn’t hear. “Blame it on me.”You swallowed again. “Mom,” you said. “Dad. I’m really sorry. It’s just, my professor thought of me when he saw this opening—do you mind if I give him your number? I can have him call you and explain.” There was silence. “If you want.”You heard your mother mutter something to your father, but you either were too distressed to process it, or she said it too quietly for the receiver to pick up. You forced yourself to pull back from Baekhyun. He let you.Finally, your father sighed and said, “Let him call us.” You couldn’t untense your muscles, even though you felt that you should. “Which professor is this?” “M-My Korean professor,” you stammered. The one I make out with on the daily.Your mother made a noise of disdain. “The Korean class you’re failing?”You felt something much like indignant rage flash in your veins at that. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. I’m not failing Korean.” You knew you probably shouldn’t be talking to them in such a way, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “I’m actually doing very well.” “Watch your tone,” your father said in warning. You flinched. There was more silence. “I’m going to hang up so I can call him and tell him to contact you, okay?” It was best you pretended he wasn’t sitting with you on a hotel bed.Your father sighed again. “If that’s what you think best,” he said.“We’re still disappointed in you, Y/N,” your mother said. Baekhyun squeezed your hand again, but you couldn’t look him in the eye. “You never should have left campus without telling us. You’re only ever allowed to go to Sehun’s, you know that.” There was a pause. “What does Sehun think of this all, huh? This internship?” He doesn’t know about it, because we’ve been too busy discussing the bizarre love triangle that has formed between him, me, and the professor you’re about to call. “He thinks it’s a good idea,” you said slowly, lying. You didn’t think your parents would call him just to corroborate the story. And besides, Sehun was smart enough to lie on your behalf, right?That seemed to somewhat placate your parents. Enough for them to let you hang up, at least. “Well,” your father said. “We’ll wait for the call. Try not to go anywhere else stupid while we’re waiting, alright?”You tried to ignore the tears that still leaked from your eyes. “Alright,” you said, your voice a croak. “I’m sorry,” you said again.“Sorry is bullshit,” your father said. He was always fond of saying that. “Don’t do anything else stupid.”Then, he, just like Sehun, hung up on you.You closed your eyes.You heard and felt Baekhyun reach over your body to shut your phone off, making sure the call was cancelled before he spoke. Your heart started to pound. You were going to be sick.“Y/N,” he said softly, and that was all it took for you to start sobbing.You shook with sobs, tears fleeing the confines of your eyes as you threw yourself at him, as he wrapped his arms around you, shushing you, smoothing your hair back and telling you it was going to be alright.“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he cooed gently, his hands smoothing circles on your back.“I’m—I’m s-so s-s-sorry,” you choked into his chest. It was only then, as your hands touched bare skin, that you realized he was shirtless. Your eyes fluttered open, and yu pulled back immediately. He was, indeed, shirtless, with only black sweatpants on. If you hadn’t been so upset, you would have been flustered. As it stood, you just looked away. “I’m s-sorry,” you said again, and you sounded pathetic. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t mean for you to hear any of that.” God, what would he think of you? That you’d unlocked the door just so he could hear your parents berating you? That you wanted his pity? His attention? “Baby.” His voice was so soft. Your eyes met his. “Baby, please don’t say you’re sorry. Not when you’ve done nothing wrong.”How could he say that? How could he say that when it was painfully obvious that you were just a human disaster? It was like your father had said. You were immeasurably stupid. Exhausting. A gigantic fucking child. This was all your fault.Sehun, Baekhyun, your parents—it was all your fault, all of it. You hated yourself. You hated—Baekhyun brought his hand to your face, cupping your cheek gently. You inhaled. He leaned forward. Just when you thought he was going to say something, he leaned even closer, and his lips brushed yours.“Baby, please,” he whispered. “You did nothing wrong. This is not your fault.” He knew what you were thinking. Before he kept speaking, he kissed you again, his lips lingering more, pressing harder, and your hands found his chest. “An eighteen year old girl should be free to date and go about as she pleases. She should be free to get an internship. To do whatever she wants.”You shook your head. He didn’t understand. Not you. Your parents were right. You were too stupid for this, for any of this. That was why you were making a mess of Sehun and Baekhyun’s lives. You should have listened to them when they told you not to date. You should have said no to both of the boys, no matter what. This was all your fault.“No, listen to me,” Baekhyun said. “Y/N, baby, listen to me. Your parents are wrong.” He didn’t know that. He didn’t know them. “Not only are they wrong, but they’re assholes. Abusive fucking assholes.”You shook your head some more. “No, they—” “Do you want me to call Sehun right now?” Baekhyun asked. “Because I will. I’m sure he’ll tell you the same thing. What I just witnessed, Y/N, is abuse. It’s fucked up abuse. You are not exhausting. You are not stupid. You are not a slut or a whore or any of those things—and even if you were, a parent should never say that to their child, do you understand me?” “I deserve it.” Your voice was hollow.An expression of pain spasmed over Baekhyun’s handsome face. “No, baby,” he said, his voice cracking, and he took both of your hands in his and squeezed. “Baby, no you don’t. You don’t.” He was kissing you again, like maybe that could make you understand. His lips did make a convincing argument. He kissed you like you were everything your parents hadn’t said—like you were worthy, and lovable, and brilliant and deserving. He kissed you like he needed you to understand that.“Baek, I—” How could you explain it to him? That you were the cause of all of the bad things, not only in your life, but in your parents’, and Sehun’s, and his own? It was all you. All. You. “No, shut up,” he said, but it wasn’t in a cruel way, not at all. “Y/N, look at me.” You forced yourself to lock eyes with him. Tears slightly blurred your vision, and you tried to blink them away. “Y/N, I asked you to break my heart, but not like this, baby, please. I can’t bear to see you blame yourself for this. Break it in any other way. Not like this. I’ll die.” You wanted to argue melodramatics, but he looked dead serious. “You don’t deserve to be abused.” He almost sounded incredulous, like he couldn’t believe that you could think otherwise. “You deserve to be loved,” he said, his voice softer.You didn’t say anything. You weren’t sure that you could.Baekhyun pressed one last kiss to your lips. “I need to call your parents,” he said. “Can you send me their numbers? I’ll try to be as quick as possible.”You took the opportunity to look away from him, reaching for your phone to message him the contact information.“Do you want me to call them in the other room?” He asked quietly as you sent him the contacts. You shook your head.“There’s no need,” you said, and your voice sounded foreign to your own ears. “They’re always nice to strangers.”“Just not their own child.” Baekhyun’s voice was filled with disgust, but it wasn’t for you. “Not their own beautiful, brilliant, amazing child. Right. Got it.”You didn’t know what to say. So you stayed silent as Baekhyun pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and used the information you had sent him to call your parents. Your stomach clenched. Why was this happening to you? Were you truly that bad that God had to punish you like this?You didn’t want Baekhyun to speak to your parents. You wanted to die. You must have missed the sound of him typing, and the dialtone, because the next thing you heard was him speaking.“Is this Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N?” His voice was musical, professional. You hadn’t noticed just how soft his voice was when he was with you, until you heard him speak otherwise. You gnawed on your lip and tried not to shake. He slid his hand into yours again. It’s okay, he mouthed. You wanted to believe him.There was a low, aggressive rumbling on the other side of the line. You winced and hid your face against your shoulder, mortified. So much to always being nice to strangers. Baekhyun rubbed his thumb against your skin, soothingly.“Yes.” His voice was calm. “Professor Byun. Although you may call me Baekhyun.” You didn’t want your parents to call him Baekhyun. With a rush of possessive anger, you found that you didn’t want your parents to call him anything. They didn’t deserve to have anything to do with him. There was more rumbling. Accusatory rumbling. You couldn’t hear your parents well enough to make out what they were saying, but you could definitely hear their tone of voice. And it was not the tone of voice one would be expected to take with a respected professor.“Yes. Correct.” Baekhyun’s tone had not lost its calm, but it was a tad sharper now. Your breath caught in your lungs. If he yelled at them, would they yell back? You thought you would die on the spot. “Yes.”What were they saying? You almost wanted to ask him to put it on speaker, but you were too afraid to make a sound. If your parents heard you—if they realized you were with him—you didn’t want to think about what would happen.Baekhyun cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said, and somehow, it sounded different than his other yeses. Sterner. “I got word of an internship that I thought would suit Y/N. So I contacted her accordingly.” More rumbling. “It is not a Korean internship.” His voice was getting testy. “Well, teaching her one subject does not stop me from seeing her as a whole, does it? Professors can tell which of their students are immeasurably brilliant.” Immeasurably brilliant. Did he really think that?For half a second, your parents said nothing. Then, there was a snarky response. God, had they abandonded all sense of propriety? You were usually the only one they treated as less-than-perfect. Were they losing their grip on the façade?Baekhyun laughed, but it was a humorless sound. “No, she’s not failing my class. Where would you get that idea?” He was getting more and more combative. You imagined your parents, fuming, on the other side of the line. “She’s actually quite brilliant. As I said. She’s quite near the top of her class.”The volume of your parents rumbling increased.“Well, I hardly think it reasonable to expect a freshman to be at the top of all of her classes. Do you?” His grip on your hand tightened. “Of course I’m not trying to teach you how to parent. Can you imagine the nerve?” You held your breath. He’s about to say something terrible, I know it. But he seemed to feel you clenching, and he toned it down. “I happen to find that Y/N puts in more effort than most graduate students I’ve seen.”You could imagine what your parents were saying here. I don’t care about the other students. It would be your father saying this. It was his thing. I only care about Y/N. “Well, it happens to be my job to care about all of them, and I’m telling you, Y/N is gifted,” Baekhyun said mildly. You were right. Either you knew your parents too well, or they were completely predictable. “That’s why I thought of her, right away, when I heard of this opportunity.”Rumbling. Rumbling. Rumbling. “I’m positive that Y/N is capable of handling the pressure of an internship on top of her schoolwork, but the point is moot,” he said. “The internship hours and schedule mostly overlap with her breaks exclusively. The spot was created for students at this university. As such, it reflects their break times.”Did it really? Or was he lying, to placate your parents, who would no doubt think you incapable of managing both an internship and school?“That won’t be a problem,” he said smoothly. What won’t be a problem? “The dorms remain open for interning students during breaks.”That wasn’t true. You stared at him, wide-eyed. Had he just lied to your parents? And, more importantly, would they buy it?The rumbling got softer.“Well, that’s something you’ll have to discuss with her,” Baekhyun said. “But for what it’s worth, she did mention her excitement at being able to stay during breaks… she didn’t want to burden you financially by returning home every time she has off.” Softer. Then, he was saying, “Well, it was nice to meet you, too. I’m sure Y/N will keep you up-to-date as she goes through the application process. Thank you for your time.”Without, it seemed, waiting for a response, Baekhyun took the phone away from his ear and then cancelled the call. He shut the phone with a click, and threw the object away from the two of you, placing it on the nightstand. He turned to you. “Assholes,” he repeated, his voice normal again, not the stern, professional drawl he’d used while on the line. You were startled into a giggle. There was a ding coming from the nightstand as your phone went off. Your heart twinged. It was either your parents, who you didn’t want to talk to, or Sehun, who you desperately wanted to talk to. It was a fifty-fifty chance. You picked up the device and clicked the home button. The text was waiting on your lockscreen.[Just talked with your professor. He had some very nice things to say about you. Why didn’t you tell us you weren’t failing Korean?] – Mom You found yourself mumbling something rude under your breath at her. Baekhyun laughed, the sound cut off as your phone dinged again.Heart racing, you instinctively moved to hide the screen as soon as you saw the name. You jerked away from him, and he looked over at you in confusion. You opened your mouth to say something, but a dark understanding crossed his face.“Sehun,” he said lowly, and he wasn’t asking. His eyes held a different light now. His entire demeanor changed. He seemed to have forgotten the other man completely.You couldn’t lie to him. You nodded. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. Then you glanced down at your phone. [I love you more. It doesn’t change anything. Be safe.] – Sehun Doesn’t change anything. You closed your eyes. You heard Baekhyun rise from the bed, and you knew he was leaving to go back into his own room. Your hand flew out and caught his arm. “Stay,” you said, and your eyes opened in to his. “Please. Stay.”His eyes were dark. He seemed unable to stop himself as he said, “I wanted to give you some privacy, so you could talk to your…” His lips curled. “Boyfriend.”You tried to ignore how much his tone hurt. Hadn’t he just been holding you as he cried? Did he hate the thought of you and Sehun that much? “I’m not asking Sehun to say” was what you said, and your voice was stronger than you expected it to be, “and I didn’t leave his office to run away with him. I’m asking you. I left with you.”He still didn’t move. You rose from your place on the bed, too, and slunk over to him, your hands finding his hips as you went onto your toes to kiss him. “Stay,” you said. “Please.” You kissed him again, softly, slowly. And that was all it took. Maybe it was magic that kept him with you, some sort of spell that convinced the boy to stay that night until midnight, talking, about anything and everything, but nothing important. Maybe it was magic that you opened yourself up to him in such a way.Or, more likely, maybe it was the deadline you now had—you would, after all, one way or another, only be with him until the end of the weekend. Doesn’t change anything. The only thing you could think, as you lie in bed that night, was that somehow, maybe, somewhere along the line, Baekhyun had grown to care about you, enough to intervene when your parents abused you. Enough to get jealous of Sehun. And that made things infinitely worse.You closed your eyes.I will do what I have to do, you told yourself, as I have always done. I will not let Sehun ruin his life over me. And, you thought, guilt churning in your stomach, it isn’t like this isn’t what Baekhyun always wanted in the first place.But you couldn’t convince yourself. You stayed awake, late, into the early hours of the morning, burning with the thought of breaking the heart of the second man who insisted that you deserved to be loved. You didn’t think you would be able to do it, had it not been necessary to protect the first. Sleep found you with your jaw clenched. The dreams that haunted your mind that night were not nightmares, nor fantasies. They were nothing. You welcomed it. You craved the blank space. The lack of pain. You fell into unconsciousness happily.And, again, it was dark. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Something was jostling you. You were asleep, mostly, and warm; everything was soft and you had never felt so calm. You had been having a very good dream. It was all well and good, except someone's hand was on your shoulder, gently shaking you. You didn't want to be gently shaken. "Y/N." Their voice was gentle, too. "Mm." You didn't want to wake up. You tried to shake their hand off of you, nuzzling deeper into the mattress, ducking under the covers. There was a laugh. "Y/N, you have to get up," he said. Your eyes shot open. He. You jolted up, your head spinning as Baekhyun moved so you wouldn't slam into him. He was grinning. "You want to sleep through your interview?" He teased. You flung the covers off of your body, scrambling up, yanking your shorts down out of your ass as you ran into the bathroom. You could hear him laughing, saying, "You still have an hour! Don't kill yourself with panic.” You vaguely heard yourself grumbling something back at him, but the fog in your brain was far too thick for you to process it. You shut the door and faced yourself, looking in the mirror like a deer in highlights before releasing a dramatic groan. "Why? Why, why, why?" Why did it look like you'd let a group of birds nest in your hair for six months? You flipped on the shower and went to head back out to grab your phone, but another look in the mirror stopped you dead in your tracks. You did not want Baekhyun to see you looking like this any more than he had already. You just wouldn't listen to music. No big deal. Whatever. You thought you heard the sound of a text tone as you stripped down out of your clothes. Your mind flashed to your parents first, then Sehun, then even Chanyeol and Yixing. You shoved the thought of the possible text out of your mind. Right now, there was absolutely no one you wanted to hear from.You hated yourself. You genuinely, legitimately, absolutely hated yourself, and it was this truth you carried in your heart as you followed Baekhyun into the office room where your interview would be held. [Hey Y/N. I know you've got therapy tonight, but what do you say to a movie night afterwards? This guy in my math class has never seen Harry Potter and I'm forcing him to watch them with me.] - Chanyeol That was the text, presumably sent last night, that had only come in this morning. Several more followed. [Also, if you want to pick up chips before you come back I'll do your Korean homework for a week.] - Chanyeol [Y/N???] - Chanyeol [Are you running late or are you just ignoring me?] - Chanyeol [Or you're dead.] - Chanyeol [You better be dead because I'll kick your perky ass if you're with that guy again.] - Chanyeol Your heart seized in your chest. The last one was sent only an hour prior. [Seriously let me know if you're at least safe. I was joking but if you're actually dead I'll be really really sad. Call me ASAP you jackass.] - Chanyeol You'd checked your phone as soon as you got out of the shower. Baekhyun was gone, in his own room getting ready, so you sat in your towel for about ten minutes just contemplating how terrible a human being you had become. You typed several apologetic responses to Chanyeol, but each sounded more flimsy and pathetic than the last. He wasn't your mother, and it wasn't your fault that your phone was glitchy, but this wasn't an isolated incident, either. All you ever really seemed to do was crap out on or hurt the people who managed to care about you in favor of the ones who pushed you around like a dummy. I’m sorry, you sent at last, and then you put your phone down to get dressed. There was really nothing more you could say. Now, you walked into the conference room, phone burning a hole in your back pocket like a cross on a sinner's neck. You tried to focus on anything, literally anything that was happening around you, but you just couldn't for the life of you. Baekhyun kept a professional distance from you, shaking hands with the businesswoman who had fetched the two of you from the lobby. "Y/N Y/L/N," you introduced yourself as she turned to you, shaking her hand as well, your voice crisp and clear. You weren't sure where any of it came from. You felt more qualified to curl up in a ball and roll yourself off a cliff than apply for this position. "Please take a seat," said the woman in response. You sat carefully in a chair across from Baekhyun. It occurred to you that you didn't even know her name. Either she assumed you'd done your research like you should've, or you'd missed her introduction entirely. Either way, it was strike 3000 for Y/N.“So nice to meet you,” you said, smiling brightly. “And thank you for taking the time out of your schedule for this interview, it’s truly an honor.”The woman only nodded, her face impassive as she shuffled papers, opening a file.“Miss Y/L/N,” she said sharply, in the tone that teachers use when you’ve done something wrong. Immediately, your back straightened. “It says here that you’re a scholarship student up at the university. May I ask your qualifications? Your transcript is impressive, of course, but it is quite a competitive school. What would you consider your ‘edge’ to be?” My ‘edge’? You thought, your eyes wide. I don’t even know what that means! My ‘edge’ is that I’m a complete and utter dumbass! “I was told that my essay was the most impressive part of my application,” you said automatically. Inside of yourself, you were shrieking non stop. You would have to thank whatever god that was currently possessing you after the interview for keeping you from sounding like a total idiot. You smiled again at the woman, trying to be more genuine, and continued, “Of course, I assume I was given a full ride for a wide variety of things, but I’m sure that was a large part of it.”“And these ‘things’ would be your aforementioned grades?” Uh…. “Yes,” you said smoothly. “I did test out of a great majority of my foundations classes. Admissions noted that that’s exactly what they’ve been looking for: advanced students to take higher classes, so that they can get more out of their college experience. Actually, that’s what I wrote my essay on… the possibility that Gen Ed courses should be considered a detriment, not a requirement. It just doesn’t make sense for someone to learn Spanish if they want to be an astronomer, for example.”The woman stared at you still. Did she blink? You genuinely wanted to know if she was capable of blinking.“Yes,” she said, although you’re not sure what to. “I’m told you’re taking Korean classes with Professor Byun here?”Your breathing hitched as you looked over at him. His face was composed, professional, but you’d almost forgotten he was there and for some reason his presence suddenly made you want to scream.He nodded. “She’s my best student,” he said graciously. “As a part of the admissions board, I did actually get to read her piece. That’s why I recommended her. As you can see, I’m not a writing professor— in fact, I’m one of the few Gen Ed classes she does need to take.”Baekhyun smiled, and your heart fluttered. He was so much more charming than you were, it wasn’t fair. Even the woman seemed dazzled. She gave a single blink before looking back down at her files.“I see,” she said. “Gen Ed. Well, it’s nice to know that she has a cause.” You weren’t sure if that was supposed to be sarcastic or not. You were functioning on about a negative four out of five. If your brain had been moving any slower, it would have been going backwards.“I’m very flexible,” you jumped in, trying to salvage what you were viewing as the most awkward, uncomfortable interview of all time. “I can find a way to be passionate about almost anything. I think that adds to my writing, especially in regards to journalism, because it comes across as genuine. Really, who’s going to want to read something if the author wouldn’t want to read it herself?”That caught the woman’s attention. Finally, her eyes seemed to have some interest as she looked up at you.“Yes,” she said, but it didn’t sound like a filler word anymore. She was genuinely agreeing with you. “That’s one of my own greatest philosophies. I used to work the position you’re applying for, you know,” she said. “It was a hard job, but a great one. We have a great program here, and there’s plenty of room to grow at our company. We like to set people up for strong, healthy careers. I know you’re quite young, Miss Y/L/N. Where do you think you’d like to be in ten years? Working as a reporter? Writing fiction?”Shit. Fuck. You didn’t know. At the rate you were going, you’d be out of your mind by the time you were twenty-five.“Honestly, I think it depends,” you decided to say, as you quite clearly could not give her a realistic response. “I think it’s a little too cocky for someone my age to think they know where they’ll be, what they’ll want, in a decade. Clearly, I’d like to work in a writing-related field. That’s where my talents would be most useful.” You took a deep breath and forced yourself to maintain eye contact. “That’s why a magazine like yours would be good for me. You’ve got such diverse content in every catalogue. I’ve been reading it since I was a little girl; I think that’s part of why I’m so well-rounded now. Of course, I’m still a student and I have a lot to learn, but I’d like to think that a place like this would be perfect for someone like me. I’m versatile. I can write whatever you ask me to, and I guess if this all works out, we’ll see together where that takes me in ten years.”You held your breath. You weren’t sure if she was going to buy it or not, but after a hard moment of deliberating, she nodded, writing something down on your file.“Alright,” she said, and to your surprise, she started to stand. “Thank you for your time.” Your stomach was sinking, but you clenched your jaw to keep yourself from crying in front of the woman. You couldn’t look at Baekhyun. The woman led the two of you back out of the conference room and into the lobby. You didn’t think she was going to say anything else, just shoo the two of you onto the street like unwanted dogs, but then she held out her hand for you to shake. “We’ll be contacting you with your hours, Y/N. Do you mind if I call you that?”You found yourself shaking your head no, and then shaking her hand, and then shaking your head no again. Oh my God, you were going to shoot yourself.“No, that’s perfectly fine,” you said, the words rushing out so quickly that you weren’t sure they were comprehensible. “Thank you so much—”The woman withdrew her hand with a laugh, the sound of which seeming foreign coming from her type of character. “There’s no need to thank me. If you’re going to thank anyone, thank your professor, on behalf of both of us. I’m looking forward to having you on the team.”Then, with a wave of coffee smell and a swish of conservative-length skirts, she turned on her heel and walked away. Baekhyun was ecstatic. You weren’t quite sure that you were capable of processing much of anything, but he was more than ready to process the good news for you.“Y/N!” He laughed, grabbing you and swinging you around the second the two of you were out of sight. “You did it! You really did it! I knew you could. How are you feeling? Are you anxious? You did such a good job in there, but I know you get anxious so easily. I—”“You sound like how having a heart attack feels,” you said, cutting him off. He faltered, unsure if that was meant to be a genuine insult until your face broke out into a grin and you threw yourself against him, wrapping your arms around him in the biggest hug imaginable.“And you’ve had a good number of heart attacks, then?” Baekhyun nudged, his voice muffled as he went to kiss the top of your head.You pulled back, still grinning. “Every time I get one of your papers back,” you said. He looked affronted, and you laughed at the look on his face, and then again when he contested the suggestion that he was a harsh grader.“I’m perfectly reasonable,” he said as the two of you walked back to his car.“Not the first word I’d use to describe you,” you said, and he unlocked your door for you, opening it like a perfect gentleman.“What word would you use to describe me, then?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, a cocky smile on his lips. His arms were caging you in between the car and his body as he rested one hand on the door and one on the roof.“What would you use to describe me?” You countered.Despite the smile on your face and the great news and the part he’d had in all of it, a little part of you was still yelling at you not to be kind to him. He blackmailed Sehun and you. He’d kept secrets from Chanyeol. He was a self-entitled jerk with no consideration of other people’s feelings.But as he looked at you with the loveliest expression on his face, he didn’t look like a self-entitled jerk. He looked like he was in love with you. The sight caught you off guard, so you almost didn’t notice when he said leaned in and whispered, “Mine.”His lips caught yours and you closed your eyes. The voice in your head shut up, and for a moment you let yourself just be happy. You let yourself imagine that he was your regular old boyfriend. You let yourself think that there was no need to break his heart, and you had no good reasons or obligations to hate him. You didn’t want to think about Sehun, so for the first time, you didn’t. You kissed Baekhyun back with more fervor than you thought you’d ever mustered before, and for a second, you felt great. Your entire body was alive with happiness. You weren’t thinking about yourself or how stupid you were or how much you wished you were invisible. Right then you knew you weren’t invisible, and you didn’t want to be.You could feel the kiss dying down. His hands found your cheeks so he could cup your face as he placed one last chaste kiss on your lips. He pulled back, smiling down at you, and you thought he looked like everything you had ever wanted. He’d called you his.No one spoke as you both finally got into the car. He was still smiling, and you turned your face away so he wouldn’t see as you felt every good thing sinking out of you. If you cannot convince Baekhyun to let you go by the end of the weekend, I will report him, and myself. You rested your head on the window, smiling faintly when Baekhyun asked if you were sleepy. Your heart constricted.“Y/N,” Baekhyun said, cutting through your thoughts. You looked over at him, trying to keep the pain out of your eyes. “I’m proud of you,” he said.You smiled again and then turned away before he could see you cry.For the first time in a long time, you knew what you had to do. It was the only way— and wasn’t it what Baekhyun had wanted in the first place? You had the rest of the day and then the next. Then it would all be over. You wondered if he would still be proud of you when it was all said and done.You thought to yourself then that you didn’t have one word to describe Baekhyun after all, only one to describe the both of you, whatever it was you shared, and the love you’d cultivated as the most terrible kind of experiment.Doomed.

Subsets and Splits

No community queries yet

The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.