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eleanore-delphinium · 4 years

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Reciprocate II

PART 1: Reciprocate I: Raven

PART 2: Reciprocate II: Damian (you are here)

PART 3: Finale: Reciprocate III: The After

Reciprocate II: Damian

In a sterile white room devoid of any color and of any indication of ownership or personalization from the owner of the room, laid a single figure on top of a white medical bed, white sheets tucked over her sternum. It was bright, and lonely and rather very empty—except for the pale woman with purple hair that reached just below her breast, on the bed. An empty chair on her right side and bedside tables with nothing on top, on either side of her bed. Her hands laid on her sides and her eyes close. There was no indication of movement except for her quiet breathing.

The door opens, to reveal Damian Wayne in a white button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black slacks and black dress shoes. Despite his neat outfit, his hair was a mess and his eyes were blood shot with eyebags underneath. He looked as though he had not slept well at all—which was likely the case.

Afterall, he had not slept well since the day Raven got stabbed. There were good days and bad. Now—today was a better day. He walks to the empty chair beside Raven’s right hand, his back facing the door. He sits on the chair and gaze longingly at the figure on the bed.

And he recalled what had transpired that night—the night that caused Raven’s current medical condition.

Raven had fallen and her eyes slowly fluttering close. He could tell that she was trying not to lose consciousness. Raven lifted a hand towards Damian and Garfield’s general direction. And Damian couldn’t help but wonder if she was trying to reach out to him or Garfield.

‘It had to be Garfield.’, he thought because it would not make sense if Raven was trying to reach out to him. Damian couldn’t help but feel very bitter inside. She would never choose him.

At this moment the creature was distracted by Tim who was on the other side, seeing this—Damian took the opportunity to run to Raven. He took note of the footsteps that followed behind him. Garfield was right behind Damian as they ran toward Raven.

Her raised hand was faltering and Damian felt as though his heart was about to jump out of his throat, out of fear.

No. You cannot close your eyes. I will not allow it! Damian ran faster towards Raven and as her hand fell to the ground, he finally reached her side. But her eyes had also closed, and Damian held his breath as he-- so very gently, held her in his arms.

“Raven! Raven!” He calls to her frantically. “No. No. No. Don’t close your eyes, please come back, stay conscious!” His breathing was ragged, his heart beating loudly in his ears. Damian bit his lip and held his breath in a conscious manner, as he tried to calm himself, and think. He had to think.

“Raven! Oh god no.” Garfield stood hovering above Raven, and the next second he was reaching out to Raven. But Damian pulled her closer to him and gave Garfield the darkest and cruelest glare Garfield had ever seen. And Garfield froze, he took a deep breath and gulped down his fear.

“Gar…” Terra came running towards Garfield, and her eyes laid on Raven. “No, if-if she didn’t try to protect me—” Damian gave Terra the same glare Garfield received, making her unable to finish her thought. She froze in fear too.

“We have to stop her bleeding.” Damian absent-mindedly say, his voice cold, and as he scanned Raven’s wound, his eye twitched. Raven had a gaping hole on her chest, Damian did not want to think about it—but the situation was truly grim.

“How are you going to—” Garfield received another glare from Damian.

Damian was not asking or seeking their help to stop Raven’s bleeding, he had said what he had said to inform them only. He will deal with Raven’s injury.

Damian reaches for something in his utility belt, and he pulls out three silver balls. His facial expression seemingly frozen into a cold and uncaring expression as he places the one-inch sized ball strategically on her gaping wound. He placed one on top and two at the bottom, forming a triangle. It beeps and glows a faint blue and came out a purple like foam.

Damian’s right eye twitched, his lips pressed together so much that his lips became pale and his brows drawn so closely together, that he looked like he would punch the next person who would touch him.

He had no choice. This was the only way to ‘plug’ Raven’s gaping hole. She was losing too much blood because of it.

Damian clenched his teeth even more, if that was even possible. He rests Raven on his right arm as his hands clenched tightly. Underneath the gloves, one would have noticed how white his fist had become. His brows still tightly knit together, it looked painful to watch his brows like that.

And to Garfield and Terra, he looked like the scariest man on earth. They seemed to fear Damian more than the unbeatable monster that had stabbed Raven into this state.

Damian hated what he had to do. He hated that he had to plug Raven like this. He hated that he knew he had to put her down now. Now.

There was a moment of hesitance, but Damian bit his lip till it bled to keep his focus.

“We need to put Raven in a safe spot,” He says in a clipped manner as he picks Raven up in his arms in a princess carry, “distract that thing and keep him far away from her.” He continuous absent-mindedly as his eyes quickly analyze the best spot to hide her away.

And at the same time, he recalls her injury. There were no organs that were damage, that at least is a good thing. And he hoped and prayed-- at that same moment-- that Raven can survive this.

With Damian standing on his full length, Garfield snapped out from his frozen state and had begun to reach out for Raven once again.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Damian snarled in such an unsightly manner that Garfield remembered the initial fear Damian gave him. Terra did not feel the fear again because she was looking at Garfield with worry and realization. Terra missed to see Damian’s expression and his words did not register in her mind because she knew at that moment while looking at Garfield—that Raven and Garfield will always have history.

Of course, she knew of Raven and Garfield’s relationship and didn’t mind it. Raven was simply his past. Garfield told her that he loves her, and that he would never go back to Raven—if that was something Terra worried about. And he must have kept his word. But the years Raven and him shared was something that could never be erased. And emotions built up throughout those years was something that couldn’t be replaced so easily. To realize such a thing now of all places—

Damian had accidentally hit Terra as he started moving, cutting Terra’s thoughts. For a second her eyes laid on the boy wonder—and to her, she did not see a hero protecting or saving someone. She saw a man holding someone in a way, that showed he was too afraid to hold any tighter in fear of losing her. A man refusing to blink, too afraid that it would be his last sight of her and that she would turn into dust any moment now. He held her in such a cautious manner—that it hurt to see him so forlorn like that.

That was something she thought she would never see in Damian Wayne. His body—every cell seemed to radiate a want to not let go of the woman in his arms. A conflict of holding her so tightly so he can remember how it feels to hold her and yet—still, he was a man of responsibility. Despite his desire to just be with her—he knew where he stands—the monster was still there.

Terra quickly turned, refusing to see Garfield’s expression—it was something she did not want to see right now.

“I will cover for you, Damian.” She tells him.

Damian sighed loudly in the white room, his forehead resting on his hands that was propped up on the bed beside Raven’s right hand. When they finally got to neutralize the enemy, the first thing Damian did was run to where Raven was. He was so afraid that when he got there, she would be cold and blue.

But she held on.

She held on.

He sighed again, as he turned his head that was resting on his right hand towards Raven.

He begged his father to help him keep her alive, and the first few months—God those were awful. When they arrived to have her healed, nothing was working. Whatever that creature was and what he did, messed with her. He begged his father to do anything—anything. Somehow, they found a way to stabilize her and close the gaping hole in her chest—of course every step was a struggle.

Seeing her with so much tubes and monitor, some advance tech and some actual alien tech, hurt Damian in a way that a bullet shot could not compare. And he felt so helpless.

Damian Wayne—son of Batman, son of Bruce Wayne, a robin—a boy wonder—an assassin at some point, still a man seen as the heir of the Demon’s Head—felt so powerless despite all the titles and honor and glory those titles held. He still felt powerless.

He held the woman he had loved for years in his arms, and had to leave her in her injured state to defend the world of the very same creature that injured her. He left her all alone in a corner—not even knowing if she would be alive when he returned. He knew that having someone guard her would be a waste of man power. He had to think of the bigger picture—because it is his responsibility, he couldn’t put her over that. And a small part of him hates himself for it.

He had seen her struggle to survive day after day, and night after night since then. The rejection her body faced—and his selfishness, thinking—hoping that she would survive it.

And she did.

She survived everything. And most of the tubes and monitors were finally taken away. Of course, she still had an IV drip and a monitor checking her vitals, just in case. Still, it was fifteen less tubes and monitors—and doctors and scientists.

Damian reached out for Raven’s right hand with his left, his palm resting on the back of her hand. He had gotten so used to all the tubes and monitors, that the first week without them was so unfamiliar to him.

Every time he visited her, he expected the tubes and monitors to multiply and revert back to when they couldn’t seem to cure her. Up until just a few weeks ago, he expected that they would return because she would become unstable again. But it never happened. He was so thankful it never happened. He slips his right hand under hers.

“Raven, won’t you wake up already?” He mutters, he had gotten used to talking to himself whenever he visited her.

“I still planned to confess to you,” He chuckles emptily “Won’t you at least let me do that?” He brought her hand to his forehead. “Let me be selfish…”

~.~.~.~.~

The door to Raven’s personal room opens, revealing Damian in his robin uniform, his mask off. He walks to her in a slightly slump manner. Takes her hand on his and sighs.

“I’m sorry Raven, it appears that I can’t visit you for the unforeseeable future. Something came up.” He looks at her sleeping face sadly.

“Don’t be angry, I try to visit you every day after all, even if it’s just for a couple of minutes, but I never missed a day since you got injured.” He pauses. “If you ask me, I’m pretty sure they were lenient on my lack of participation in missions recently because I looked as if I had lost a lover.” He laughs.

“It’s funny-- how I am reacting as if I had lost a lover—when we never really got to be together. It would be nice if you wake up—at least let me confess to you clearly. And you can put a rest to my pining.” He didn’t know why, but he felt that he had to rearrange her hair before he left and so he did.

“I will come back, I promise you.” He says as he reluctantly let go of her hand. He refused to look back as he left the room, and takes his mask from his utility belt and puts it on.

~.~.~.~.~

The door opens gently again as Damian Wayne in an all-black outfit walks in. He was in his signature black turtle neck. He had on a thin black framed eyeglass perched on his nose. He held a book on his left hand. He had gotten used to opening the door slowly and gently, out of the fear that when he opens the door she wouldn’t be there anymore.

At first, he thought that it was an unreasonable fear, but clearly it was not. He was afraid, that the time he wasn’t with her, she would have long been gone. And when he comes to visit, he would be greeted with an empty bed. And he would not be able to even say his farewells.

He closes the door even more gently—because when the door closes this time was theirs—well his. Because she was still unconscious—still very unaware of his presence.

“Hey Raven, I brought the book I last read to you—I have enough time today to read to you just a few chapters.” He says as he walks to his position beside her. He takes a seat on the chair and held her right hand with his right hand. “It would be nice if you woke up soon.” He smiles grimly, the words have started becoming something he said out of habit.

Damian gave her a little recap of what he had read to her before as he held her hand. After that, he continued where he left off, holding her hand when he wasn’t flipping through pages. He read in a slow manner; his mind more aware of the fact that her hand felt so very right against his, instead of the words he was saying aloud.

~.~.~.~.~

Raven was still lying unconscious in the white room, on her white bed. Everything was quiet inside.

“Damian it’s been almost eight months!” Came a voice from outside the room.

“So, what Grayson!” Yelled back the voice of Damian Wayne. He was in an argument right outside of Raven’s room with Dick Grayson, his adopted brother—also known as Nightwing.

“Are you serious Dami?” A pause. “At least let others see her!”

“By others you mean Garfield, right?” A loud bang was heard from inside the room.

“Well—shit, yes! Why won’t you let Gar see her? He has been asking about her or where she is.”

“Don’t you dare bring Garfield to see her—don’t you dare!” A furious reply from Damian as shuffling footsteps were heard.

“Look man, I get it. I really do. But Damian, you can’t just hide her away from her teammates.”

“You see her too.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” A louder bang entered Raven’s room.

“She planned to leave anyways.” Damian says defensively. There was silence for a few seconds and a frustrated humph could be heard from outside the room.

“I—I didn’t think anyone would be able to deal with seeing her in that way—I” Damian pauses. “I don’t think they’d want to see her in a coma—I thought it was for the best. I—I’m sorry Grayson, I will let them see her—but—just not Garfield, Grayson. That is all I am asking from you, just not him. He caused her enough pain.” And the door to Raven’s room opened. She still laid there asleep. Damian did not wait for Dick’s reply. He slowly closes the door behind him.

He was in a black button up polo shirt tucked into his black slacks, that was held into place by a silver belt and his black leather shoes. He looked tired and but there was no hint of anger.

“You must have heard our little argument, huh?” He says approaching the familiar chair he always sat on when visiting her. “I’m sorry to have disturbed your sleep.” He continues as he sat down on the chair and takes her hand in his again. “Of course, I didn’t disturb your sleep, after all your still unconscious.” A hollow chuckle soon follows.

Damian places the back of Raven’s hand against his forehead. “You can wake up now. Scold me for being so selfish. For not allowing Garfield to visit you. In fact, for not letting anyone else visit you aside from a select few. But—mostly Garfield. I will not allow him in here too— in this space-- so why don’t you wake up and just tell me how selfish I am.” He tilts his head to look at Raven while her hand is still pressed on temple of his head.

But as usual there was no response. He was so used to talking to himself now. At this point, Damian was very convinced that Raven had tried to reach out for Garfield, one last time, before she fainted. And the thought was something that caused him bitterness.

Even in her near-death, Garfield was the last in her mind.

~.~.~.~.~

Damian was sitting on the same chair holding Raven’s hand. Three months has passed since Damian and Dick’s heated argument outside of Raven’s bedroom. He wore a red hoodie with black pants and black shoes. This time around, for the first time, he looked less tired since this whole ordeal happened.

“It looks like you had a lot of visitors this month too.” He glances at the flowers on both bedside tables, pictures in frames of Raven with the team and other things. Now the room seemed to have a little bit of personality.

“I think it’s great that you have some visitors. Though I admit, I think that eventually they will come to visit less and less, so I think you should wake up soon. Everyone misses you a lot. I think the longer you stay asleep people would forget about you. Everyone you know is a hero Raven, and even though you stay asleep—we still have to defend the people. Everyone’s priorities will shift and they would have less time to see you. And because they have started settling with your absence, for sure the visits will lessen. But I promise, I will visit you every day until you wake up.” Damian placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand and he froze.

His lips hovering over her hand. He wipes the spot he kissed her at, with this thumb.

“I’m sorry, I should be asking permission. I didn’t—” He stared at the back of her hand. “I’m sorry I don’t know since when I started doing that, but I’m sorry. I overstepped.” He gently places her hand back on the bed and stood up. “Let’s see what’s in the drawers, shall we?” He mutters to himself. And surveyed every nook and cranny and objects in her room, keeping a mental inventory.

“We will be starting a new book soon. I no longer keep track of the books we’ve read.” He says after finishing his inspection of the room and went to sit back on the chair and crossed his arms across his chest.

“Well—I mean I keep track of the titles but no longer itemize them…” He adds quietly, he used to count them but stopped at around the fifth book because it seemed like the list would continue to grow. And seeing the number rise would just be another reminder of the fact, that the days waiting for Raven to wake was stretching to impossibility.

~.~.~.~.~

It was a little over a year since Raven has been in her comatose state. The room felt heavy and she stirred because of it. Her breathing a little louder—a little labored. Her eyes fluttered opened—her vision a blur. She saw two figures at the foot of her bed. The taller one looking at the shorter man. The shorter one was looking at her startled—he seemed to have an odd skin color. She could almost swear it was green. Raven’s eyes started to roll back to unconsciousness.

“Dick, she’s awake!” It was a familiar voice; Raven couldn’t help but think.

“What?” Dick turned to look at Raven her eyelids slowly closing, her labored breathing slowly quieting down.

“I saw her eyes open; I swear it!” She recognized the voice as Garfield, but knowing who it was did not give her any extra motivation to fight her sleepiness.

“What the fuck is going on here!” Another familiar voice furiously entered Raven’s faltering consciousness. She wanted to wake up—to fight the tiredness she was feeling. But it was simply too late now.

The door had banged open when Damian entered. Damian was still wearing his black outer coat, his shoes dirty as he had just arrived from outside. He had no time to freshen up to visit Raven because he found out what Dick was up to.

When his eyes laid on Garfield who was looking at Raven, he wanted to rip Garfield’s head off. Damian Wayne looked like he was going to pop a vein on his neck. He glared at Dick with such open hostility that Dick was taken aback, and Garfield beside him recalled the fear Damian instilled in him that night Raven got injured.

“Her eyes opened; I saw it!” Garfield says frantically, hoping that would ease Damian’s anger. Damian takes a glance at Raven—but she was at the same state he had last seen her in.

Comatose.

“I asked you one thing, Grayson!” He growls as he slowly stomped his way to Dick whose hands were up in a ‘I surrender’ way. Damian grabbed Dick’s coat collar and pulled him close. “One thing Grayson!” He shoved Dick and points at Garfield.

“Look—you can’t continue denying someone who wants to visit a friend.” Dick tries to calm his brother down as he straightens his coat.

“Friend?” Damian snorts in response.

“Look, Damian I begged Dick to bring me to her.” Garfield says and he received Damian’s angry glare.

“Get. Out.” Damian simply said, he looked as though he would kill either of them any second now. For some weird reason Garfield got a little more courage at that moment, he began to open his mouth. Dick seeing Garfield’s lips open—quickly intercepted by pulling Garfield by the arm and pulling him towards the door.

“I’m sorry little D, we will talk about it outside.” Dick says as he drags Garfield out, giving Garfield a stern look to ensure Garfield’s silence. Garfield wasn’t happy but he understood that Dick was looking out for him.

Damian stood where he was, glaring at Raven as he waits for the door to close behind Dick and Garfield. He was stiff in his spot and his fists clenched so tightly. He was still very much angry. He stood like that for five more minutes before he tried to calm himself down. His fist unclenched and his brows unfurrow.

“So—well stop pretending then—his gone now—so wake up.” He demanded in a low voice as he hovered beside Raven near the chair. She did not move. And Damian laughed brokenly as he fell on his knees. He reached out for her right hand absentmindedly and rested his nose on the back of her palm.

“So, it turns out you just needed him to visit you to wake up?” Damian whispers as tears fall on her hand. “So why aren’t you awake already?” He sobbed.

It was never him—she never chose him.

~.~.~.~.~

It had been four months since Garfield have been regularly visiting Raven, and at times he would also bring Terra with him. Damian had conceded with Garfield’s wish to allow him visitation rights to see Raven. Damian could not stay angry at Dick for over two weeks, and the pair reconciled, despite Dick undermining Damian’s wishes. Damian understood that Dick was looking out for him.

Damian’s family was very much worried over him since Raven’s fall. He acted more detached and unapproachable. He wasn’t sleeping well and every second he could spare he was always hovering over Raven. In fact, he slept well hunched by Raven’s bedside with Raven’s hand against his hands and forehead. Damian was even unwilling to celebrate his twenty-second birthday with Raven still unconscious. And they could see the toll it was taking on Damian.

His family knew he needed a little push to try and let Raven’s state go and pushing Damian to allow Garfield entry was the way to do it. Damian needed to move on.

But here he was again, in the white room he specifically prepared for her. Her accommodations all arranged by him, and his visits always a constant. But the past four months were difficult, as he was also actively avoiding having to meet Garfield when Garfield was visiting Raven.

When Damian was able to take a step back from his anger at what Dick did—he knew that his family did it to distract Damian—to keep him away from lurking around Raven. He understood it was made of good intentions. Damian reaches out for Raven’s hand, a habit he has come to develop long ago.

He wore a plain white shirt with jeans. His hair not as neat as it usually was, and eyebags were under his eyes yet again.

“But I guess I am a man who will only love one person in their life.” He mutters placing Raven’s hand against his right cheek. “I’ve come to wonder sometimes if I am unfortunate to be such a man—or to fall for you—” he studies her face; he has memorized every detail about her. How could he not when he was here, beside her so frequently.

“I’ve come to learn that loving you is not something to be regretful about. In fact, I am rather thankful for it. But you really got me pining over you, Raven.” He sighs, his eyes not capturing even the smallest of movement from Raven. “I love you.” He whispers and brushed his lips against the skin on the back of her hand.

A week and a half after, Damian is pacing at the foot of Raven’s bed, very much frustrated. He paused and glared at Raven, running his hands through his head, a sign of his developing anger. He stomps towards his spot as he glared at Raven again.

His hair was a mess, his eyebags had gotten darker. His clothes that was a plain black shirt with jeans had creases, very uncharacteristic of him.

“I don’t get it!” He says containing most of his anger. “You obviously woke up the first time Garfield visited you! Tsk, as it turns out, all you need was for him to visit you-- for you to wake up. So why did you go back to sleep!” His tone louder now and he sighs to try and dispel a little of his anger. His hand at his side clenched into balls.

Damian was seething in anger, and he exhaled and inhaled in air as if he was palpitating. Finally, the anger he had dissipated. But it was replaced by raw hopelessness, anyone who would see him in such a state, would feel their hearts knot.

“You really—really got me pining over you.” Damian says as he knelt on the floor with a hunched back as he takes her right hand in between his palms. “It’s funny how you pined over someone else as I pined over you—it seems that your making me pine over you just as long as you pined over him.”

The chair he usually sat on was across the room, toppled down. A droplet of water falls in front of Damian’s right knee.

~.~.~.~.~

Two months passed just like that. Raven’s friends had long since stopped visiting her as frequently as they did the first three months. Asking them to take so much time off of their busy hero life, was too much to ask for. But Damian always made time for her, and at almost a year and a half the toll of doing so had fully manifested.

He looked so tired, his eye bags in the darkest shade it had been since the accident. He looked thinner, not scarily thin, but it was obvious he had lost some weight. His clothes were as neat as it could be. His white button up shirt crisp and so is his black slacks. His black leather shoes very shiny. He placed a lot of effort in his appearance because even he could tell that his health has waned, and he was compensating with his clothes.

When Raven was in ICU for the first three months, he was in such a bad state. When she finally got relatively cured but was on comatose, he looked better-- more relaxed. Then a little after, he had to continue with his responsibilities, particularly as a hero and somehow, he managed.

But now at almost a year and a half of juggling hero life, personal and family life. Being with Raven almost every day since the night she got hurt. To actively avoiding Garfield while Garfield was visiting and arranging his own visits to go around Garfield’s visitation, but also keeping to his schedule and preference of seeing Raven on a very regular basis. And Raven still not waking up—Damian was quite spent.

He was sitting on his chair facing Raven’s right hand. His head propped onto his hands which were propped up on his knees. He was looking at Raven’s face blankly, dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this.

Raven’s state was always at the forefront of his mind. And when he was in a mission, he tried to put it as a lesser priority. But when he is near to death his first thought is: If I die who will look after Raven? And so, he fights with every screaming fiber he had, even when he was in such excruciating pain. After all, he still had to see her wake up.

One would think a year and a half wasn’t really a long time—but it did not feel like it has been just over a year for Damian—it felt like he has been waiting for her to wake up for five years.

He had just realized quite recently, just exactly how much stress he had gotten due to all this. And it was taking a major toll on him. He now completely understood why his family was worried about it—about him. Hindsight after all is 20/20. And he now clearly sees, exactly how concerning his state was.

There was only one solution. His eyes flickered to Raven—he had not noticed that his gaze had drifted off of her and was surprised when his eyes laid on her again. He sighs and suddenly stands up, and picks up a lock of her hair.

“Raven, your hair has grown quite a bit—its already at waist level. I thought of having it cut—but I think that should be your decision.” He places it back down. “If you don’t wake up any time soon—I’m afraid I would have to let you go.” He mumbles to himself as he turned around to lean on the bed and gaze at the ceiling blankly.

Two weeks after, Damian was back in her room, looking even worst. This time he was just standing beside Raven with a very empty gaze. He had been standing there in his black slacks, black dress shoes and a green button up polo shirt for fifteen minutes already.

“I give up Rae.” He looks down on the ground. His words so soft because he was very much afraid of the implications himself. He knew he had to let her go.

“I—I don’t think I can visit you like this.” He fought the tears as he said his words a little louder. And there was nothing left to say, he just softly touched her hand for a second and pulled away and then looked at her blankly.

A month after Damian’s decision to let Raven go, he realized getting to the conclusion and acknowledging what had to be done and executing his decisions were two completely different things. He was still visiting her in the same consistency that he always had. And he knew he had to fight to break the habit that he had already formed. Seeing her was second nature to him, and he simply had to break it.

~.~.~.~.~

Two months after, Damian was finally able to decrease his visits. And had even met Garfield a few times and actually didn’t mind it. His visit reduction was not really significant but the fact he was able to decrease it at all, was a win for him.

He was in jeans and a red shirt, looking very casual and he looked more unbothered and not so tired. His hands in his pockets as he just stood. For the first time, he looked genuinely relaxed. His gaze at her was soft and the eyebags he had been sporting in different shades, for almost two years, were significantly less dark this time.

“I know I don’t visit often anymore—and you probably can’t tell—aside from the obvious,” A small twinkle in his eyes at the little joke. The fact that he could make a joke like that, spoke volumes of how far he had come. “You really made me pine over you for the duration you pined over Garfield. Nine years—you really made this whole thing come into full circle. You pined for him for nine years and decided to move on completely—but this happens.” He gestured at her generally.

“Now I have pined for you for the same duration, and I have decided to move on too.” He said grimly and the hint of playfulness he had prior was gone. “It really came full circle.”

He just stood to her right with a small smile. He tried his best not to stay so long to visit her nowadays. Damian found that standing was the best option in order for him not to stay longer than he intended.

Damian puts his hand atop Raven’s, he has also avoided holding her hand properly or else he’d find himself sitting on his spot and just holding her hand. He would then talk to her and the intended short visit would become like his regular visits from before.

“I have decided. I am moving on—I am letting you go.” And he pulled his hand away a little too quickly, afraid of the temptation that was the familiarity of her hand against his—or maybe it was his hand against hers. After all, it was always him holding onto her.

His head had looked away to look at the flowers on her bedside tables. He has been talking to her about visiting her less, and letting her go for a few months now. At first it was just a passing thought. But the last two months, it seemed Damian had to tell her every time he visited. He was unaware of how frequent he was telling her that. But in retrospect, he could tell now that he had been dropping hints.

It started from hints, to telling her absentmindedly, to repeatedly telling her every time he visits—until finally he was able to visit less. And because Damian turned his head, he missed the small twitched of Raven’s hand when he pulled his hand away, to look at her bedside.

There was silence, as he looked down and closed his eyes. He squeezes his eyes for a moment then sighs as he looks at Raven, a faint smile on his lips. He took a step back, feeling as though he was leaving his heart on this spot. He then turns feeling lonely yet strong and regretful at the same time.

When he was gone, Raven’s eyebrow twitched.

The next day when Damian decided to check on Raven’s condition, he was frozen in fear to see the scientist and doctors hovering over Raven who was attached to so many monitors and tubes.

It was like he had stepped into the time she was brought in to close up her wound. He was unfrozen when she saw her spasming. He ran towards her, as her chest lifted and she was choking, black almost slime like blood came out from her mouth and spilling from her oxygen mask.

“Sir—we need you out of the way.” A doctor pulled Damian away. “Who let this one in!” The doctor adds and a nurse took Damian away, trying to console him.

“This is odd—there seems to be no traces of the compound we found last time. But her body is rejecting something.” Damian hears the doctor say, at that moment Raven’s eyes opened and her line of sight fell on Damian’s instantly. Her hand lifted slowly to his direction; her eyes wet as her face slowly turned red from the lack of oxygen. A doctor had already punctured her lungs to assist her in breathing, but black blood was oozing out from it.

“Let me, the fuck go!” Damian yelled as he strongly shoved the nurse off of him. He was normally someone who didn’t do this, but seeing Raven’s face slowly contort to fear and resignation, he actually went against the nurse. He remembered when she was in ICU for the first few months he observed quietly from the distance, but he couldn’t now.

“Raven!” He called out as he knelt on the floor and held her right hand that she had stretched out. “I promise, I will not leave you. So, you have to fight this!”

She squeezes his hand in hers as best as she could as her eyes closed and a tear slipped from her eye.

“Sir—I’m sorry but you are being a distraction.” A bulky man approaches Damian, he lets go of Raven’s hand and put his hands up. And slowly left the room.

“She’s—I heard the subject has powers—”

“Patient.” A doctor cuts off the scientist.

Before Damian was shoved out of the room, he stole a glance of Raven, her hand was glowing a faint purple black hue. And it seemed that she could breathe.

“Sir—there seems to be something appearing—” And that was the last thing Damian heard before the door was shut close.

Two weeks later Raven was finally stable but still in a coma. They were fighting with her condition for those two weeks—cross referencing and analyzing data, finding and testing out new information. And everything has now calmed down. He was only allowed entry today after the stunt that he pulled.

Damian was sitting on his chair, holding her hand. He wore a white t-shirt with many creases. His hair a slightly better case compared to his shirt. And the outfit was complete with a plain pair of jeans and casual shoes. And to top it all off, his eyebags had become dark again.

”You really scared me. God, I forgot how afraid I was of losing you recently—you really know how to make someone remember, huh?” He mutters as he puts her hand against his forehead, he was shaking a bit, as he fought his tears. And he felt her hand twitch against his—and he choked as he looked at her face.

Her eyes were still close but for the first time, he actually felt her react. In two years, she finally moved. He smiled tightly and nodded his head. He brought her hand against his lips and softly kissed her hand.

“You reached out to me that night, didn’t you?” He put her hand against his cheek as he turns his head towards her again. “You have to wake up and clarify that to me.” And he hears her loudly inhale.

For the first time in months, he finally had hope that she would wake up. “I promise you; I will wait for you to wake up. This time, I will not break this promise.”

~.~.~.~.~

The door suddenly opens, with a panic stricken, Damian. He was unable to take off his outer coat and change into cleaner shoes because he heard a crash from generally where Raven’s room was located on the second floor.

“Raven!” He called out his fear practically at the base of his throat.

When he heard the loud crash, he feared for the worst. His eyes at first saw an empty bed, and his heart almost jumped out of his chest. The vase on her right bedside table with flowers, had shattered on the floor. He quickly searched for Raven, and exhaled deeply when he spotted her at the foot of her bed. She was holding onto her bed with great difficulty. Her eyes observed Damian wearily.

He approached her, thinking that maybe this was a dream.

“Raven.” He whispered when he was two feet away, her violet eyes did not show any recognition at seeing Damian. He picks her up and carries her in a princess carry, and despite not recognizing him at first, she wraps her arms around his neck.

“Damian.” She whispers and he squeezes her back. She rested her forehead on his shoulder, as he carried her back to her bed. He sets her down gently as he pulls away, she grabs his right hand.

“It feels so perfect.” She gently tells him, and Damian was startled by her words. A smile slowly forms and he found himself chuckling.

“I’ve been here almost every day, holding your hand. Maybe your hand molded into mine—” He shakes his head. "Or maybe the other way around.”

“I—my memory is kind of fuzzy,” Raven says as she lays back in bed. “But I know you, I remember you. I heard you so often. It became scary when you weren’t there.” Her eyes start to flutter, she seemed a little bit too tired. But she continued to hold his hand until she fully fell into slumber, to which her grip loosened.

Damian took the opportunity to call the doctors and scientist to inform them of her condition.

When she awoke again the doctors, scientists and Damian were talking.

~.~.~.~.~

A month after, Raven was already walking by herself inside her room. She started walking around the villa quite recently. But she has not been able to walk outside yet. She found that once the door to go outside the villa was opened, her knees would buckle. So, for the past month she was mostly roaming indoors.

She had found out that this was one of Bruce Wayne’s property, and Damian had asked for the property. Damian was someone who would never ask anything of anyone if he could do it himself, so it was surprising to everyone that Damian had asked something. And because of that Bruce granted Damian the property, if not for that, in the very least to give Damian some peace of mind.

She also found out that Damian did not spare any expense in her recuperation. And her situation was quite odd. The creature’s origin could not be quite narrowed down, thus its effects on her was up on the air. But that was where the doctors and scientists and all the tech was for, alien tech included. With the collective resources provided, they were able to make something to assist Raven’s condition.

“Raven, I think you should really try to get out.” Damian says as he walks in. He looked so happy seeing her, just standing by the window gazing out. She turned her head to smile at him.

He looked better—in fact the happiest and relaxed he had ever been for two years. His clothes were pressed well, it was a casual attire, and he had no hint of any kind of weariness. No more eyebags, and his eyes no longer looked so dead.

“If you go with me, I can try.” She responded, she had not seen him in two weeks due to his busy schedule, with the team and talking to her doctors and scientist. Him learning and relearning everything about her condition since she got attacked, and he also had family matters, he didn’t really have time to be with Raven recently. And she understood.

She kept herself busy by building her physical strength through walking within the walls of Damian’s villa. She also used the time to comb through her thoughts.

“Okay.” He agreed as he offered her his right hand and she accepts it with both her hands. Until now he couldn’t believe that she was awake.

“I really thought I was dreaming when you woke up a month ago.” He confesses again as he sighs and lead her to the door.

“I’m here. Everything is still a bit fuzzy. But I know you—I trust you. Your Damian.” Raven responds unhurriedly as she places a hand on his arm.

Fifteen minutes later, Damian came in with Raven in his arms weeping.

“I—I can’t… it—it…” And she wept.

“I’m sorry, we will take it step by step. I will be here if you ever want to try and go outside.” He comforts her as he places her on her bed. She nods as he wipes away her tears.

“I thought I was going to die—” She sobbed. “There was something I wanted to do… I don’t—” Another sob, “I don’t recall what.”

He holds her hands and then she suddenly froze on the spot. She looks at him in the eyes, and she blinks as the tears fall. “I didn’t want to leave you.”

And this time it was his time to freeze on the spot. Raven pulled her hands away from his, and she placed her fingertips on either side of his face.

“I was afraid that I didn’t have enough time with you. I wanted to know you more.” Her vision seems to go back to that night. “I wanted to be with you.” She absent-mindedly brushed her lips against his. And when the pressure registered in her brain, she pulled away, an apology at the tip of her tongue.

Raven was surprised to feel an even heavier pressure against her lips. And she kissed back and deepened the kiss. She noted how she was reacting very naturally over the situation, and how inexperience Damian was. And she pulled away.

“Is this your first kiss?” She asks him. And he looks away with a small blush on his face.

“It’s—I’m very inexperience with dating…” He admits, and she observes him as she wipes her tears.

“I’m assuming, I have dated before.”

“Yes, Garfield.” He responds blankly, and when the name came off Damian’s mouth, he saw her expression soften. His eye twitched as he looked away. He suddenly feels her hands against his, making him turn to look at her again.

“Gar… field…” She mutters, his hand clenching at the way she called his name. “Was he the only one I dated?” Damian nods in response.

“I see…” She said with furrowed brows. “My head is aching a bit. I think I should rest…” Raven lets go of Damian’s hands.

“Can we try going outside again tomorrow?” Damian was pulled out from his reverie with the inquiry, surprise in his eyes.

“Of course, I would love that.” She smiled at his response.

“Can you—” She looks at him hesitatingly. “Can you hold my hand when we do?”

He was even more shock to hear those words, and he smiled as he placed a hand on her cheek. “Of course, Raven.”

“I would like to date you, Damian.” Raven stares at Damian, who just pulled his hand away from her cheek and straightened his posture as he looks away.

“Your memory isn’t like what it was Raven, I think it’s too early to say that.” His response wasn’t something she enjoyed. But Raven pressed her lips together and did not push him.

~.~.~.~.~

The sun was setting and the white room was filled with an orange hue from the setting sun outside. Raven and Damian had just arrived from walking outside. This time around she was able to stay outside longer without having flashbacks of the night she got stabbed. It was great progress. But she always held Damian as if he was the only remaining lifeboat in an open, turbulent ocean.

Damian and Raven was continuing a pleasant conversation they had outside, when suddenly the door opened.

“Raven!” Garfield came in with such a relieved look on his face, his eyes expectant as he searches for her. Damian and Raven’s happy conversation grew stale as they turned their head to the door.

“Raven!” He called out again when his eyes landed on her. Raven remained in place. “Of course, you wouldn’t tell me she is awake!” Garfield adds with a glare to Damian, whose head was casted down.

“Tsk, Greyson.” He mutters, Greyson right behind Garfield but was hidden from Damian’s line of sight. Despite Damian’s head casted down, he took note of Raven’s reaction.

She was still, just standing in place, but Damian could tell, she was so close to running to Garfield and hugging him. And all Damian could do was squeeze his eyes shut, as he inhales softly while clenching his fists.

Seeing Garfield, Raven felt like her soul from inside her was vibrating with excitement. And yet, at the same time it felt as though a thin layer of frost blanketed her entire body, and it was enough to render her frozen. Despite her deep desire to hug Garfield, her feet were so heavily planted on the floor, that she didn’t even move an inch. Her breathing was shallow and unhurriedly soft, and she just focused on that.

The days had passed so pleasantly after Raven woke up that Damian had thought that he had a place in her heart. But seeing her like this, he knew—Garfield still outweigh him.

“Get out.” Raven says, to which Damian snapped his head to Raven’s direction, who had simply turned her back and walked to the window. “All of you.”

Damian wanted to say something, his fists curling and uncurling by his sides, but he saw her stiff figure with crossed arms as she stubbornly looked outside. He was the last to leave.

He comes back a few hours later, to see Raven sitting by the windowsill looking outside.

“He hasn’t left has he?” She whispers hoarsely not looking at who entered. Damian shook his head as he replied, even though she would not see it.

“His downstairs, hoping you’d at least see him.” He got no response, but she tilts her head.

“I didn’t see him leave.” She mutters vacantly.

“I’m here to convince you to eat dinner.” And Raven turned to look at him, a frown on her face.

“Okay,” She sighs. “But you are eating with me.”

Damian was startled hearing this, a second passes before the words sunk in.

“Alright.” He blinks at her.

“Here.” She adds and he tells her he that he would be back, as he leaves for a moment to get them their dinner.

When he arrives with food, they sat on a pub table that was added a little after Raven woke up. It could only sit two people, and it was made of some nice honey brown wood. The cushions of the chair red and its frame made of the same wood as the table. It was rather small for two people, but they made do.

Raven was vacantly playing with her food while Damian observes her with a frown. He had not yet scolded her for not eating, as he was giving her just a little more time.

With a sigh she says, “It’s odd, when I saw him, it felt like I just realized the world was a puzzle with missing pieces, and his presence just made all the missing pieces appear on it’s designated place. He was familiar, he was someone I knew—love, maybe even… but something didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t want to approach him. And I didn’t want him to approach me.”

~.~.~.~.~

It took Raven three days to be able to even meet Garfield. The sun was setting, and from Raven’s window, one could see Raven talking with Garfield. They were sitting on a bench facing the sunset, their backs facing the window in Raven’s room.

So, it was a given that the two did not see Damian observing them from the window. He did not look upset nor joyful with the scene he was seeing. But once Garfield placed a hand on Raven’s hand, and she tilted her head a bit towards Garfield, you could see Damian’s face slowly turn into unpleasantness.

When the minutes passed, and Garfield nor Raven had not pull away from one another, his face contorted to wanting to storm out from Raven’s room to staying still and just holding his breath—just hoping and wishing—that she had not chosen Garfield.

But the minutes continues to pass, and Garfield’s hand continued to rest on Raven’s hand. And Raven glances at him with a smile forming on her lips. And Damian couldn’t help but think, that despite Raven having a difficulty leaving the building with him, if it was Garfield with her—of course it would be easier for her to be outside with him.

And Raven started closing in on the space between her and Garfield, and Damian did not want to see that. So, he turned around quickly, and he stood with his back against them, as he flexes his fists, and sighed. He had hurried to see her; he had gone through the garage so he was unable to see them on the yard. Once he got into her room, and she wasn’t there, Damian absentmindedly walked to the window. That was when he saw her and Garfield together on a bench, looking like lovers.

He wondered how long he stood by the window looking at them. He closes his eyes and sighs again, by the end of the day it was never him. He walks to the door without looking back.

A few days later, Raven is pacing her room anxiously. She had not seen Damian in days, she worried he saw her and Garfield the other day and that was why he was nowhere to be seen. But she wanted to explain to him what he had seen wasn’t what he thought. She had to tell him.

And she could feel the panic go up onto her throat. She sat on her bed, facing the door. She had refused to step out of her room after she talked to Garfield—not without Damian. She could not find the strength to go out of her room after her chat with Garfield.

Raven buried her hands on her face as the tears started to stream from her eyes. All she could see under her close eyes, was the time—that night, when she reached out for Damian.

She recalled her desire to be with Damian, but right now she felt it so very intensely that she was afraid. She was so afraid that she has lost that chance. And the door opened, and she was up on her feet with wide eyes. Seeing that it was Damian, she sobbed as she ran towards Damian and tackled him with a hug.

He was startled and it took a moment for him to realize that she was hugging him so tightly. He gently returns her hug.

“I thought you wouldn’t come back. I was so scared.” She wept on the nook of his shoulder, her feet not even touching the floor.

“I’m sorry for worrying you.” He replied softly, and tightened his hold on her as he sets her down a bit so that she could touch the floor. They stood like that for a moment.

Raven eventually pulled away and tried to collect her bearings. She wipes her tears and looked at Damian in the eyes. On the other hand, he was wishing she hadn’t pulled away-- maybe that was the only time he could hold her like that. And she reaches for his hands. And it felt so right.

“When Gar came, and guided me outside, I couldn’t find the strength to step through the door. All I could think about was that I need you. I need you to hold my hand as I step outside. While that night kept flashing through my mind. But he held my hand—and it felt so familiar. And all my fears just vanished.” She looked down on their feet. “And I found myself outside—with him.” There was guilt in her face and on the tone of her voice. And Damian honestly did not want to hear what she had to say next. But she held his hands tighter, making him decide to just keep quiet. A small smile formed on her lips as tears fall and splatter on the floor.

“I forgot the time I was injured, till the time before he held my hands. It felt like I could breath again.” Damian’s eye twitched, he wondered what was her point. She suddenly flicked her head to look at him, and he was startled.

“He will always be someone that matters to me, we will always have history. I have loved him for nine years, we shared so many memories—so many firsts. But I do not want to be with him. I want to be with you. And I know I am asking a lot, but if all these doesn’t bother you—I would love it, if you would date me.” But she was greeted with silence. “I want you. I want to be with you.” She softly added, her confidence fading.

“I don’t mind.” He said so softly, but Raven didn’t hear it.

“If that is an issue for you, then I completely understand.” She continues on.

“I don’t mind.” He repeated.

“I know it’s been two years, but there must have been someone you became interested in. Or maybe you’ve even dated a bit. I know we don’t talk about it, but I get that—” She squeezes her eyes, her tone ready to cry.

“Raven, I want to be with you.” He cups her cheek and tilted her head towards him. She looks at him with the slightest hint of distrust. “I’ve always wanted to be with you—I waited for you.” He says, being able to say those words felt like such a relief to Damian. And the tears started falling from Raven’s eyes as the distrust was washed away.

“I almost gave up, I admit that.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at her anymore. She cups both of his cheeks.

“If I were in your place, even I would waver.” She tells him, trying to catch his dodging eyes. When she finally was able to lock her eyes with his, she adds. “Garfield will always have some meaning to me—his all I have known for nine years, even before sleeping for two years—my history with him is half of my life. I was afraid. I thought he was the only one who could possibly love someone like me—I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. I want my next memories and moments-- with you. And slowly those memories I had, and my history with him, will just be a fraction of my life. I want you. I want every possible milestone with you, Damian.”

He slowly nodded, and when Raven’s eyes registered the nod, he couldn’t help but smile and chuckle.

“I never thought this day would happen.” He leans in to rest his forehead against hers, and a soft smile formed on her lips. And they shared the moment in silence. After a while, Damian talks.

“I was afraid to ask, or open up about this, especially since you were still recuperating—and your memories is fuzzy. But who would have thought you would catch me by surprise and open up the topic yourself?” Raven took the opportunity to plant a kiss on his lips, and he conservatively kissed back to which she deepened the kiss. And she pulled away recalling Damian’s inexperience last time.

“We will take it step by step. I might still remember more about Garfield, and I might get a little confused. But remind me, that I choose you since that night.” She leans her forehead against his, eyes locked with one another. Damian’s eyes flickered with surprise and the confirmation that she chose him that night, made his eyes soften with the acknowledgement. He caresses her face with his thumb.

“I finally caught up to you.” He whispers, a giggle bubbling up on the base of Raven’s throat.

~.~.~.~.~

A few months later, the white almost vacant room was no longer white nor empty. Raven had flipped the room with Damian’s help and approval. Its walls were now a soft lilac color. The room’s furniture was either accented with white, glass or silver metals. And the ceiling was littered with little crystals, that once the lights were off, would illuminate like stars in different colors. Her sheets were navy blue and white.

“Raven, are you ready?” Damian’s voice came from outside her open door. She turned in her white fitted dress with the thinnest spaghetti straps. Her long hair that passed her waist was tied into a fishtail braid.

“Of course!” She replied happily, as she ran towards the door, and tackled Damian with a hug and giggled.

“Excited for our brunch?” He teases.

“Absolutely!” She replied without missing a second.

Later that night they were in her bedroom. Damian sitting on her bed and she was kneeling over his lap. Raven’s hair slowly unravelling from its braid. Their lips have been intertwined with one another for minutes now. He had one hand on her waist and the other on her thigh, a bit too afraid to rest it on her bum. While her hands were on his neck and on his chest.

Raven broke off the kiss, and started kissing his neck.

“If we’re going too fast, you can tell me.” She mutters in between kisses. But when she did not hear any response, she pulled away to look at him.

“I know Garfield and I had a lot of firsts together, if that bothers you…” Damian broke away from his dazed state and looked at her questioningly.

“I admit, at first it did,” His eyes follow his hand as in travels from her thigh to her waist which he caresses. “Thinking of how he knows how to please you…” He looks back at her conflicted eyes. “But that just means I have to learn how to please you my way. You two were together for so long—it would be a given that I’m not your first. That is alright. But you are mine.” He admits a small blush on his face. And she smiles as she kisses his eye and trailed kisses to his jawline. He was being brought back to his dazed state.

“I feel honored.” She whispers in between her kisses. And she playfully bit his ear after. Damian was startled and grabbed her butt and she gasped.

“Then I will take the lead then.” She whispered alluringly by his ear, as her hands travelled under his shirt. Her braid completely undone.

FIN.

(Or is it?)

Bonus Scene:

Garfield and Raven were outside, they had been talking for hours that the sun had finally began to set.

“You know, when I woke up, I couldn’t find myself to walk out my room. Eventually, I was able to overcome it. But I found that it was so difficult to step outside the villa. All I could see was that night and being stabbed, and the last person I saw.” Raven confesses and Garfield placed a hand on hers for comfort.

“But Damian was there, he guided me and stayed with me as we walk outside.” A small smile on her lips. “I always held him like I was in open water and he was the lifeboat. I was afraid of losing him. I mean, I still am. I still hold him so tightly, because I’m afraid that it would be my last chance with him. I thought I was going to die that night, Gar.”

“But when you offered your hand and held me, after you said you knew of my condition—my fear outside.” She glances at the open area. “I forgot how afraid I was of going outside. It was like my fears these few months were nothing but a phantom. You were always associated with love and happy memories with me. But you and I both know, Gar, we were imperfect. We were destructive. We had become unhappy together for a very long time.” And she glances at him fully.

“I want to say goodbye.” She finally said, and Garfield looked at her gently as Raven extended her arms to hug him. “I want to start a new romance—with Damian.” She whispers as they embrace one another.

“I wish you two happiness.” Garfield says as he pulls away.

“Yes, thank you.” She looks back at Damian’s villa. “I was so afraid I would lose him, I still do now, its why I always hold him tightly whenever we go outside.” She looks back at the sunset that was facing them.

“I held on because of him—I’m sure it was him, I could feel his hand and hear him every now and then, until all I knew was his presence.”

Alternate (timeline) Ending:

Damian was asleep on the table, and had woken up with a jolt, all teary eyed.

“Damian, what’s wrong?” Raven says as she approaches the table.

“I had a dream, you got injured and you were in a coma.” He replied. And he tells her what happened in his dream.

Alternate’s Alternate Ending: (Reciprocate timeline)

“I had a dream, you got injured and you were in a coma.” He replied as Raven sat down beside him. She gently places a hand on his as she smiles softly.

“Damian, that did happen.”

Finale: Reciprocate III: The After

#ANTIBBRAE #DAMIRAE #Damian Wayne #Raven #Robin x Raven #Teen Titans #Young Justice #alternate universe #beastboy x terra #unrequited love romance #AGE GAP of 3 years OLDER female YOUNGER male #love has many forms #demonbirds #PINING IS A SICKNESS #COMATOSE for 2 YEARS #Will wait till forever #alternate endings

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thedistantstorm · 4 years

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Project Compass 25

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This time: Thrawn tries to seek out Eli. Grysk poison claims lives aboard the Steadfast.

Next time: Un’hee tires of keeping secrets.

Thrawn prided himself on his commitment and duty, his ethos as a warrior. Being back in his preferred type of position, under a worthy leader no less, was the homecoming he’d been waiting for. He did not mind being planetside, but his home was among the stars, aboard a ship, facing the enemy, poised for battle.

The crew of the Steadfast was eager to prove themselves to him, and there were no hiccoughs or bumps with having a human aboard the bridge - Jedi or otherwise - under Ar’alani’s watchful gaze. They, having experience working together, had an easy adjustment period, and Thrawn’s time away from direct command left better equipped to suggest rather than command his CO when he felt deviations from her orders appropriate. She didn’t indulge him often, and they certainly debated - sometimes in raised voices or dragged away into a conference room - many things. It was a challenge. More than that, it was rewarding.

But something was missing.

Ezra’s words had stayed with Thrawn. Thrawn knew Ivant was still on this ship. So why hadn't he seen him?

Thrawn felt an almost compulsive need to see his now former commanding officer. Ar'alani had mentioned during their discussion that she had recommended him for commendations again and been obstinately denied. It surprised her, but it said something about the state of the Admiralty and Aristocra. The Aristocra had begrudgingly agreed to a promotion for him. The Admiralty had rejected it outright, believing that Ar'alani's human officer deserved punishment, not reward.

If not for the more sinister reasons behind their refusal, Thrawn would have been glad for it. Right now, for the first time in their careers, they were on even ground.

It wasn't long before he found an in.

The Steadfast, despite being a large ship, had very tightly knit groups of officers, though the majority of the bridge crew did find themselves on opposite ends of whatever Aristocra squabble was on the agenda that cycle. Thrawn had expected to hear from the Navigators, but neither Un'hee or Vah'nya - both of whom were reportedly also still aboard the ship - had been anywhere to be seen. Admiral Ar'alani would not speak of any of them, and her replies to Thrawn's admittedly mild inquiries were met with tight lips.

The officer wasn't anything special. In fact, he was rather ordinary. Gossiped with the rest of the officers, was typically in the officer's lounge after hours drinking with the rest of the staff. But, he’d traded stories about Captain Ivant’s early days in the CDF with the rest of the officers. With him back on the ship, it was a means of taking credit for his part in the making of the man, obviously. He was older and towards the end of his career. Respectful enough but hardly looking for an expansion in his duties.

And he’d spoken within earshot of Faro.

Junior Commander Faro, who just so happened to find herself in Ar’alani’s shadow when she wasn’t off gathering intel. “Senior Commander Cinsar,” She mentioned to Thrawn casually one evening when she’d been leaving the mess as he’d entered with Ezra one step behind him.

His eyebrows had gone up, but Faro hadn’t said anything else. She hadn’t needed to. The slightest warmth in her usually deadpan gaze, the smallest quirk of her lips said it for her. She knew what he was looking for. He was hardly transparent, that much he was sure of. Outside of his inquiry to Ar’alani, he hadn’t mentioned Ivant, Un’hee, or Vah’nya despite his curiosity.

However, regardless of his well-concealed emotions, Ezra was concerned, which meant the young Jedi would leave no possible lead or ally alone, rallying them to his cause. Thrawn had no idea what his former protege and current… ward (protege came to mind, but he dismissed it) managed to discuss while he was out of commission. Ezra hadn’t been forthcoming on most of it, citing it ‘boring Imperial-speak’ and he’d be damned if he asked Faro for her recount of events He didn’t care to know that badly, nor did he care to give any more information to any more third parties.

He didn’t begrudge the fact that he had these emotions. Emotions and motivations could be powerful tools if utilized correctly so long as one was cognizant of both the potential strengths and weaknesses that came with them. Presently, his desire to know if he’d been correct was a far safer topic when compared to what he’d do if that was the truth. If Vanto was being censured, as his… subconscious self had so helpfully informed Eli (and unknowingly, Ezra), what was the nature of such a thing? That was what Thrawn wanted to know.

So, as if it were an innocent coincidence, he chose to sit at the same table as the Senior Commander, one seat left between them, and Ezra blissfully unaware across the table. Ezra asked a question, and his verb conjugation - while improving - was just suboptimal enough to draw Cinsar’s attention.

Thrawn saw pathways in the conversation, but he was content to let Ezra carry them while he supplemented the precise dialogue necessary to lay his subtle trap.

Meticulously plotting a way for their paths to cross was, in the end, unnecessary. Three days after chatting up Commander Cinsar, Thrawn’s fellow captain made his way to the bridge midway through the second shift. He held a datapad in his hands, but made no effort to consult it. Instead, he carefully extracted Commander Velbb from his conversation with the Admiral about whatever complaint he’d had this hour and pulled Ar’alani aside for a quiet conversation.

Thrawn had been so preoccupied by the sight of russet skin and golden-brown hair in a sea of blue and black that he’d all but missed the appearance of Un’hee.

In an unorthodox move, she marched up to him wrapping her arms around his middle in a hug, her sharp chin digging in just south of his diaphragm. She tipped her head back to look up at him. The look in her eyes reminded him of that night, months ago, when she had sought both he and Ezra out for comfort. It was that alone that kept him from stepping back and out of her embrace. Instead, albeit awkwardly, he patted her back.

"You are back to normal?" She asked. "No lasting effects?"

He nodded, holding her gaze all the while. Still, one non-confirming eyebrow rose in increasing concern for her very affectionate outburst. Convinced, she released him, a dark flush lighting up her cheeks in the infrared. Her actions were impulse driven then, Thrawn supposed. "I hear you identified the poison. You have my thanks."

She smiled, her facial heat increasing even more. "It was nothing." She tilted her head, adding shyly, "And congratulations on your promotion, Captain."

"Thank you, Navigator Un'hee." He fixed her with an inquisitive look, more than ready to get back to business. "What brings you to the bridge?"

"I was accompanying Captain Eli," She said, looking back to Ivant and Ar'alani briefly. "Something has happened."

"What?"

She shook her head, and he escorted her to a vacant weapons station for privacy. "He would not tell me," Un'hee admitted. "We have not seen him recently. He has been hidden in his office for days, trying to find where and how things have been happening."

"Do you think he's found something?"

Fearful eyes looked up into Thrawn's, and the child Navigator nodded only once. "There are-"

"With me, Captain Mitth'raw'nuruodo," Admiral Ar'alani ordered. Her tone indicated there was no time to argue.

The Navigator very carefully skirted around Thrawn, rushing back to Vanto's side. The Captain, who Thrawn could tell was positively exhausted, met his gaze. His pink lips quirked the slightest bit upward, and despite the cool professionalism lingering there, something in Eli's expression softened, just for a second. The moment broke as quickly as it came with Un'hee tucking herself under his arm and against his side. Thrawn made a mental note to revisit this moment in his mind's eye later.

Surprisingly, Admiral Ar'alani didn't comment on Un'hee's inherent clinginess. While she certainly had a soft spot for her Navigators, indulging such behavior (on the bridge, no less) was peculiar. He said nothing, however, choosing to observe as the Admiral gave her orders and led them from the bridge.

They passed Bridger and Faro on the way to their destination, both of whom wore matching grim expressions. Un'hee was left in their care, rather unwillingly. Whatever she'd been about to say was silenced with a brief, sharp look from Eli.

When they arrived at their destination, Thrawn understood why the Navigator hadn't been allowed to accompany them. They entered the medical quarter, but instead of turning toward the treatment area, they went to the morgue.

Three male and one female Chiss, their modesty preserved with sheets pulled to their clavicles. Even in death, their faces still held the slightest tension.

"Do not touch them with your bare hands," Ar'alani warned, confirming his suspicions.

"Blue death?" He asked, already suspecting the poison to be to blame.

"You have not seen it," She said. "Our medical reports are-"

Vanto, who had been silent this entire time, already donned gloves and had begun to peel back the sheet on the first of them. Then, he went to each subsequent body and similarly drew their shrouds down to just above the waistline. He stood back. Now, he wouldn't meet Thrawn's gaze. His gaze held hidden anger, and he kept it pointed at the floor.

"There was no time to administer the antidote?" Thrawn asked Ar'alani.

Ar'alani looked to Eli. Tension thickened the air. Eli didn't look up. Thrawn slid his eyes between them, trying to discern the meaning without giving his curiosity away.

"No," Eli said. His voice was worn, subdued. His gaze flicked from Ar'alani, something wordless there, then to Thrawn. "When it's done right, the poison kills quickly. Under ten minutes. The wrong amount takes longer, and causes more pain, as you no-doubt recall."

Ar'alani gave Eli a strong glare about something he'd said. He didn't respond. Interesting, he thought.

"The black spots?" He indicated the mess of acid-formed wounds on one of their chests.

"Where the acid comes close to the surface, almost eating through. It destroys the lung, and eats the bone. Metabolized through skin, and only grows more acidic by the chemical process of breathing. The color is blood and acid, beneath the skin," Ar'alani said.

"Even without an immediately fatal dose, it works quickly," Thrawn said. "I was unable to breathe within two minutes of Commander Wes'lash'andi dosing me with the poison."

Ar'alani hummed. "We are trying to find the reason why they were poisoned." She looked up from one of the bodies to Vanto. "Captain Ivant has been trying to figure out which families are involved. Un'hee's recount of events mentioned Copero. Commander Wes'lash'andi mentioned it to her before you showed symptoms. Considering when it happened, we pulled all of the ship's logs and all data from the shipyard from a month prior to our docking until the day we left."

"He would not be so overt," Thrawn commented. He examined the wounds more closely. They were ugly and odiferous, even despite the harsh chemical-clean smell of the morgue. "It was meant to deceive."

"It was," Vanto agreed. "Which is why I did more than that." He gestured to the datapad tucked between his arm and torso. "There was nothing smuggled in Copero, though that was a hint. He narrowed down our location." The human looked between them. "Commander Slasha was considered neutral as far as politics was concerned. However, he was seeing someone aboard the Steadfast prior to his transfer to the Compass. He gestured to the female Chiss. "Lieutenant Dorn'ati'vano. He talked about her often, and fondly."

Ar'alani sighed. "Her family is loyal to House Inrokini."

"Her grandmother is of that house," Eli confirmed.

"Are you suggesting suicide?" Thrawn asked, frowning.

"Not exactly." Eli sighed, and gave Ar'alani a significant look.

"There are more infiltrators aboard. We believe one group eliminated the other as a means to prevent incrimination."

"And the rest of House Inrokini's representation in the crew?" Thrawn wondered aloud. "That should be where we begin."

"They are here, Mitth'raw'nuruodo,” Ar’alani indicated. “Dead."

Thrawn's expression darkened. "Were they found together?"

"Yes," Ar'alani said.

The Chiss captain very carefully examined the deceased woman's fingernails. "Her fingers are damaged, like she touched the poison directly," He commented mildly. "And yet you insist this is not suicide?"

Eli cleared his throat. “No. This was done intentionally by outside parties.”

“Your evidence, if you please, Captain.”

Ar’alani fixed Thrawn with a look, as if to remind him that he wasn’t Vanto’s commander anymore. Vanto didn’t seem to mind. “The bodies were discovered hours after their death. It’s a little hard to tell what with the poison doing what it does, but they were dead for at least eight hours before they were found, seeing as they didn’t show up for their shifts.”

Thrawn watched Eli intently, waiting for him to expand upon his point. “This would look like a suicide, if one wasn’t aware of what they were working with, or all the details.” The human stood at attention, and despite his obvious exhaustion, cut a very confident, convincing profile. Now was hardly the time for Thrawn to consider attraction, but he could not deny that his fellow Captain’s combination of cool confidence and warm eyes, the way his lips curled around his Cheunh would be devastatingly distracting if there weren’t larger matters at hand.

“And those details?” Thrawn asked, voice low, coiled. Ready to see the patterns in whatever data Vanto had no-doubt collected. From the corner of his eye, Thrawn could see Ar’alani roll her eyes and put her hands on her hips. He didn’t have time to figure out what was exasperating her so.

Eli smiled. It spoke of momentary victory. A benchmark met. “We should have received a transport vessel at the end of the overnight shift. The manifest said it was supposed to deliver back up fuel and shield generators for the next cycle. It was a precautionary shipment. Someone waved it off.”

“These four?” Thrawn indicated the deceased.

“No.” His expression turned grim. “They were informed that the shipment was cancelled by someone else. Their communications, from what we could recover, indicated they were furious about it.” Ivant looked to Ar’alani, who nodded. “And it wasn’t until after their time of death that the ship was deleted from our logs. Whomever was responsible expected us to be tripped up at a quadruple suicide.” Chiss were prideful. Suicide, to them, was not an honorable death, and thus would be treated as an extreme exception, the indicators important to the families of the deceased as it would be considered a blight on their reputation.

Thrawn hardly cared about social stigma. “How did you know a shipment had been deleted? You did not say you pulled future manifests,” He said instead.

“I didn’t,” Eli agreed, shrugging, “Didn’t think I had to. I keep tabs on those automatically.”

Ar’alani said, “Captain Eli’van’to is obsessive about cargo and supply inventory, despite his express wishes to hold a command position,” For the Admiral, such a statement was practically an affectionate jibe. “Who am I to deny him his love of supply analysis?”

#thranto #mitth'raw'nuruodo #eli vanto #un'hee #ar'alani #thrawn/eli vanto #my writing #sw fanfiction #thrawn

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starrysebastians · 5 years

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walks of shame [3/5] : dashing through central park

summary : chance encounters in embarrassing circumstances, that might lead to something more. that is, if you manage to find who that stranger is. sebastian stan x reader

word count : 1.4k

* * *

Time flies fast, and soon August will come to an end, which means : pretty orange and red leaves twirling in the wind on their way to the ground, and maybe they're slippery and you'll fall down on your butt, but it's worth it. Autumnal drinks, clothes, pies and movies. It's a nice season to look forward to, but for now, you're happy with the hot weather and the light summer dress you're wearing. It's flowy and it makes you look nice, the silky material and its baby blue color making your tan pop against it. What good is summer if you can't show off your tan?

You yawn one more time, probably the eleventh time in a whole minute, before making your way to your friend's apartment complex, his key secured in your hand. It's seven in the morning, and the only compensation for waking up so early is the fact that the heat hasn't risen yet, the sun isn't warming up your skin like it does during the day, or rather burning it, and you're grateful someone gave you a purpose for enjoying a quiet summer morning. That purpose comes in the form of a loud and welcoming bark, a tail wagging happily and big brown eyes staring expectantly up at you, tongue out, big breaths being the only thing you can hear in the dark apartment. Some lucky people get to have long and dreamy summer vacations on a tropical island, and your friend is one of them, so you're on dog duty.

A dog duty that takes you all the way to Central Park, leash firmly secured in your hand while you try to be the one who's choosing the path you're currently taking, and certainly not the other way around. Certainly not a big and heavy golden retriever making you jog behind him so you don't get literally dragged in the grass. You reach a nice and vast spot where you can let him run, and you settle on an empty bench, a soft sigh escaping your lips. Maybe you should get a pet, that way you would have a reason to wake up everyday with minimum punctuality, feed them, take them on a walk. Breathe some fresh air. Have a reason to have a precise schedule, a reason to go out and live, to sum up. But that's also too much of a responsibility for you, and here we go again : avoiding problems and confrontations, whether it's with others or with yourself.

But sometimes things happen and you can't just stand here on a bench. There's this thing — a small animal, probably, you can't really make out its form from where you are sitting but you can tell by the way the dog is behaving, that it's not really friendly. Or maybe it is, but Molly — the dog, is being a bit too agressive for a simple game between two nice animals.

So you stand up, slowly, brows furrowed and eyes squinted to try and assess the situation, and while you start quietly walking up towards Molly, stepping on the track you suddenly collide with a body — someone that was running full force, and the impact is so strong that you end up on your butt. More specifically, you started falling backwards, but the person who hit you tried to grab you by the arms, the waist, anything really, to steady you, and long short story, everyone fell. So not only did you end up on your butt, quite painfully, but there's a stranger right on top of you.

"Ow," you groan, while the stranger puts a hand by your ear to prop himself up, enough distance between your faces so that you can see his face. "Oh. Oh — oh my god."

"What the — "

The initial shock of your body hitting the ground wears off, replaced by heat flooding your cheeks. It's him. It's Sebastian, and his facial expression says a lot about his surprise. Eyebrows raised, eyes widened, mouth wide open — god those lips! — and no words willing to come out. And, most importantly, he's lying on top of you. His hips are on yours, one of your legs is caught between his, and his groin is pressed tight against your thigh. Of course this had to happen. Walking a dog can also be a walk of shame. Like he's going through the exact same thoughts, finally realizing the situation, he quickly pushes himself up on a sitting position, still hovering over you to make sure you're alright to get up.

"Shit, shit, shit, I'm sorry. So sorry. Gosh — are you okay?" He's on his knees at your side and puts a hand on your back as you sit up, his other hand outstretched by your arm in case you need to grab it for extra support. "I'm sorry. I had my music on, I was so focused, I'm sorry."

"I get it, you're sorry, I get it," you mutter, holding one painfully throbbing arm against your chest, while he bites on his lower lip, staring at you with worried eyes. "I can't believe this." Your tone is light, nothing indicating that you're mad. It's just laced with sheer incredulity, as you look up at him, disbelief written all over your face.

"We have got to stop meeting like this," he laughs, shaking his head. It's almost in a fond way, and for a second you can still feel him pressed against you, and you're the one who has to shake her head to stop your mind from…. He helps you up, and you both drag your hands up and down your clothes to get rid of the dust, him readjusting the dark thermal t-shirt that's clinging to his muscles — was he always that broad? while you smooth the wrinkles of your dress.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, voice high. And then something clicks inside your brain. "I mean, yeah, you were running. That answers my question. Makes sense."

He gives you that laugh where his head is thrown back and there are those pretty crinkles you love so much and — "What are you doing here? Pretty early for someone who's clearly not going for a run." You almost feel offended at the fact that no one could peg you for the sportive type, given his sentence, but then you notice his gaze lingering on your dress and you get it. When your eyes meet, he's waiting for you to answer and it takes you a full second to recover because he's licking his lips, and you wish you would stop blushing.

"I'm, um, taking care of friend's dog. He's on vacation. So I'm on nanny duty," you say, and suddenly you remember the reason why you left the bench in the first place. Whipping your head around, you see Molly running around in circles, clearly going after something. Situation still under control. Sebastian makes a humming sound and your gaze goes back to him.

"Hey, um, listen. We keep accidentally running into each other ; why don't we, I don't know — "

Situation not under control. There's a sudden yelp cutting his speech and echoing through the whole park and Molly barks so loud you physically wince, head whipping around, hand on your chest because you jumped out of fright.

"Shit!" Molly clearly decided to run after whatever hurt her and she's dashing through the grass, and in the opposite direction. "Shit, Molly!" You turn to Sebastian, then back to the sprinting dog, already going off your line of sight, then back to Sebastian, in a panicked way. "I have to go. It's — She's running away. Shit. I'm so sorry, shit, sorry, bye!"

Maybe you should actually go for those morning runs, because clearly you're out of shape. By the time you manage to reach Molly, calm her down while removing the sweat on your forehead with the back of your head, stroke her soft fur while whispering sweet words into her hear because she's still hurting, put her leash back on and walk back to the spot you had chosen earlier, he's not there anymore. It probably took fifteen, twenty minutes for you to get back there, still panting, and of course he left. You chest deflates, and you let Molly guide you, because you're too disappointed and bummed out to make decisions right now. If you didn't take a deep breath, there would have been a tear escaping your eye, and it's stupid, really, because it's nothing, but those chance meetings keep happening and it just feels so good being in his company.

But that's all it is, chance meetings. And three times, that’s a lot, you probably will never get this lucky again.

* * *

tagging : @asteria33

#walks of shame series #sebastian stan x reader #marvel one shot

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quarterfromcanon · 5 years

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RE: Heather

Okay, fellow CEG-watching buddies, I’ve got a quick question because I’m torn on how I feel. What was your general response to the subplot with Heather being a surrogate?

So much of that period was passed over by the time jump. Then, by the start of Season 4, she’s already back at work with little to no indication she was ever pregnant within six canonical weeks (actually a little less) from the time of the baby’s birth. We really only get the very beginning of her pregnancy and some tidbits from the last month. Vella was really crushing it in every scene she was given during that time and I did get some solid laughs from that, but I’ve got so many issues and questions that I don’t feel like I’d say I’m 100% *happy* it happened.

Some things I found myself considering during this round of viewing:

1. Where were Mr. and Mrs. Davis during all this time? I know we haven’t really heard from them or seen them since the scene following the Miss Douche competition, but it seems unlikely they would in no way be present or involved when their only child is pregnant. Even though Heather did express being glad to get away from them and have her own place, I didn’t get the sense that was supposed to mean she would henceforth cut them out of her life. Plus they are both at her wedding in Season 4, so we know there’s still some contact there.

2. Did Darryl spend a lot of time talking/singing to her belly? I read that’s encouraged with surrogacy to help the baby transition after birth. This one isn’t a concern or anything, I just feel denied a delightful viewing experience. I’m sure Heather’s running commentary and facial expressions while Darryl tried to get Hebecca familiar with the sound of his voice would’ve been PURE GOLD. (P.S. - I am similarly sad we didn’t get to see her while the baby shower guests whispered intentions into eggs. Considering how irritable she was already feeling that day, her tolerance for this activity would’ve been basically nonexistent.)

3. I have largely positive feelings toward Hector during this period, which is saying something since I have dug my heels in about that relationship every step of the way. He was mostly pretty decent about everything.

HOWEVER

(A) I cannot stand the “for once in your life you can’t quit” exchange. As of this scene, there have already been two significant times since we’ve known her that Heather made the choice not to quit something because it mattered to her. The first was when she wouldn’t let her failed relationship with Greg prompt her to quit the job at Home Base. That was in Season 1 Episode 14. She made that decision on her own. The second time was when she refused to let the stuffy corporate atmosphere at the training program drive her away from trying to make a difference. She stood her ground, declared what she wanted, got a new program created for her on the spot, and became a regional manager. That was in Season 3 Episode 10. I’ll grant you, she tried talking out her thoughts with a couple of different people while she grappled with this one, but nobody’s dialogue seemed like a real catalyst for her. No one said something that gave her the “light bulb” moment where the solution clicked into place. She found the answer on her own. The kicker is that both of those moments were key life events for the character, and they played an interlinked role in Heather being financially and emotionally ready to invite Hector to live with her. Yet here he sits giving her this supposedly motivational speech about not quitting. She was clearly just having a hard time dealing with the reality of her situation. Heather got freaked out and panicked for a little while, which is perfectly understandable. I can’t help feeling like they sort of realized, “Oh, Heather being his girlfriend is benefiting Hector in numerous ways, but we haven’t really seen him do anything significant to help her other than support choices she was already making.” Which, uh, yeah. That is correct. But the speech didn’t fix that. This just sounds like he’s minimizing her growth and casting aspersions on her strength of will. He’s immediately guilt-tripping her when the threat of quitting wasn’t even real. It’s no wonder this is when she starts to cry. While I get what they were trying to do here, all I do is leave this scene feeling mad.

(B) There’s a similar problem with the final doctor’s appointment scene where the majority of the friend group is in attendance. Everyone goes around introducing themselves and Hector says he’s the boyfriend who is “surprisingly cool” with this whole situation. Yet another time I feel like I’m being *told* why Hector is a good boyfriend and I should be supportive of this pairing, rather than me actually being made to believe it. I’m not arguing against the fact that he has indeed been cool. It’s just that this little meta bit which is supposed to make audience members nod and go, “Yeah, he really is” turns out to be Not A Good Look once you consider that this is supposed to be something he’s legitimately saying not just to us but to the characters in the room. It comes across as passive aggressive, like he’s fishing for brownie points and getting in a quick verbal jab regarding the fact that he was not consulted first. This instance is the same as the first in that I know how I’m feeling about everything is the opposite of the intention, but it still rubs me the wrong way.

[Quick tangent/side note: I also disagree with the oversimplification of why Valencia has started recording things on camera, but that’s a lengthy train of thought for another time.]

4. It really bothers me how much of this subplot is just flat-out not about Heather at all. The only pseudo-character development-esque element to be found here is that Heather comes to lament her capricious nature and the huge life decisions she tends to make on a dime. If that were leading somewhere, like to her acknowledging that spontaneity has its charms but shouldn’t be given the power to shape her life in such serious ways, that’d be something. But it doesn’t. This is an isolated incident of her saying, “It’s the worst thing I’ve ever decided.” When she is presented with another big decision the following season - marrying Hector - she makes that leap with similarly little introspection. Don’t get me wrong; I like that Heather isn’t phased by what others will think or the possibility that someone might say she was overhasty. It just doesn’t feel right that her call to volunteer as surrogate was almost exclusively about Darryl even though it’s her body going through all this, and then her call to marry Hector was about him obtaining insurance and then him wanting a traditional ceremony. We saw Hector receive his tux. We didn’t see Heather choose her dress. I feel a little guilty being as frustrated by these things as I am because it isn’t that Darryl and Hector shouldn’t get to have these feelings and experiences that mean so much to them -- that isn’t the problem -- I just rue the fact that Heather’s interiority is being sacrificed/left unexplored in favor of putting the focus on that.

(5) Like I briefly touched on near the top of this post, I’m really vexed by the fact that Heather appears to have simply gone back to life as she knew it right after she got home. According to the timeline we are given in dialogue at the start of Season 4, it is less than six weeks after she was in the hospital. Yet she is already back at work and appears to have returned to the way she looked prior to insemination. Even though she is not the individual raising the child, that doesn’t mean there aren’t still a lot of things happening to her body/her hormones/her mood in the wake of the birth. It was made clear that they wanted to write the little bit of her pregnancy we saw and the scenes in the delivery room as more true-to-life than we are accustomed to being shown on TV, so it feels like the aftermath ought to be treated with similar care and attention to detail.

(6) Because we weren’t going to be spending a whole lot of screen time with Heather during pregnancy or post, and because we weren’t going to be exploring how the experience affected her mentally/emotionally outside of comedic mood swings, it just feels like it didn’t have to be her? There was no real reason we couldn’t have stuck with the surrogate who fell through right before she volunteered. From a writing standpoint, I mean. Very little would’ve changed if the unnamed surrogate had worked out, except that Heather wouldn’t really have any other way of tying into this plot (i.e. the way Paula was advice giver and two time mother, Rebecca was egg donor, and Valencia was meant to record proceedings). It ultimately feels like the main appeal of having the surrogate be Heather was to throw all the emotions at someone who usually stays on an even keel. I’m just really resistant to the idea of having her go through all this predominantly for comedic effect.

Anyway, since I wasn’t in the online fandom yet when this episode originally aired, I don’t know if I’m late to the Heather-centric fuming party on this one. I basically just wanted to get a feel for where other people land on this narrative choice, in retrospect. So, to the kind souls who’ve read all the way to this point (for which I sincerely thank you because, good gracious, this was a lot):

What are your thoughts?

#Shows #CEG

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incorrectmidc · 7 years

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Once Upon A December

Note: Finally MC has a name here. Lol. Some of you might remember her for I’ve made a post about her before. Remember Georgette Lee? Louis’ supposed twin sister? Yeah, she’s my MC here. :)

Okay, a few things before you read, Leo and Alyn are princes of Wysteria, with Leo as the Crowned Prince and Heir Apparent to the throne. I also made Elise Sannes their older sister. The king of Wysteria remains unnamed.

What else... yeah, this is inspired by Game of Thrones (the setting) and Anastasia (the plot, kind of) so expect to see similarities (mostly from Game of Thrones, since I haven’t seen Anastasia yet).

Warning for crude words, mostly uttered by Sid. XD

i. QUEEN OF LOVE AND BEAUTY

“Black and white and grey, all the shades of truth.” ーA Song of Ice and Fire

The sound of trumpets, drums and jovial cheering rang all over the palace courtyard that morning. Highborn lords and ladies of the Kingdom of Wysteria were sitting comfortably inside the tents, chatting amiably with each other as they waited for the participants of the day's tourney. It was the king's 50th nameday and a week-long tourney and feast was held in honour of his name. It was well-attended by the highborns of the society for they also see it as an opportunity to match their sons and daughters to the royal children, especially to the heir of the Willow Throne, Prince Leo.

"Good morning, m'lord," three servant girls greeted Ser Xeno Gerald as he walked down the hallway towards the chambers of the youngest Crawford royalty. They giggled softly as he returned the greeting with a polite smile on his face. He wasn't even a feet away from them when he heard them whispering to each other.

"Ser Xeno is really handsome, isn't he?"

"I find him more handsome than Prince Leo and Prince Alyn combined."

"The lady he will choose is so lucky."

I can hear all of you, you know, Xeno mused, his expression not giving away his thoughts. Not to be conceited, he's well aware of the fact that he's good-looking enough to catch the eyes of ladies, highborn and common folk alike. And though he has fooled around once or twice, through Sid's urgings, he has never thought of ladies and marriage altogether. In fact, he didn't think he would ever marry. For him, his whole life was dedicated to serving and protecting the prince he'd sworn his sword to, and exactly the same person who became his first friend when he arrived in Wysteria, Alyn Crawford. "Love is the death of duty."[1] He always heard his uncle, Robert Branche, say that and he wholeheartedly agree to it. So instead of setting his sights on a lady, he was focused on becoming a member of the Kingsguard someday.

He stopped in front of Prince Alyn's chambers and knocked ー two short knocks followed by three long ones ー an indication that it was him. It was a signal he and the prince invented during their younger days when they were about to cause mischief. It became a habit of them ever since then.

A muffled "come in" was heard from the opposite side of the door and he took it as his cue to enter. One fine eyebrow rose when he spotted his best friend sitting in front of his dresser, getting his hair and a week's worth of facial hair shaved. "It's a good change seeing you getting cleaned up, my prince," he said as he approached and fought the urge to laugh as he watched Prince Alyn close his eyes in agony when the stubble that he was trying so hard to grow was slowly rid of. "Shave him good, Tommy," he told the barber. "He's never liked a woman more than he likes his own hair."[2] This time he laughed when the prince sent him a pointed look.

When he was all shaven clean and his hair trimmed, Xeno helped the prince with his mail and armour. Like him, Prince Alyn would be joining the tourney. But then also unlike him, the youngest prince didn't like it one bit. Of course he's neither a craven nor a lousy fighter, he just didn't see the point of a joust. "It's an opportunity for you to show your skills, my prince. A way to impress the nobility," Xeno told him once wherein Prince Alyn's reply was a un-prince-like snort and a comment of "my king father just wants to find me a bride." Xeno gave no reply to that because the prince had been right on the dot with his comment.

"Pray tell me why you have shaven today, Crawford," Xeno asked, amusement in his voice, as fastened the prince’s armour on the shoulder. While the prince's older sister, Princess Elise, was so particular on how her brothers, even her father, looks, the king was the last person to mind if they were all presentable enough despite his status as the King of Wysteria. So it was quite a surprise for Xeno, to be honest, when he found out that it was the king who ordered Prince Alyn to make himself presentable.

"My guess is as good as yours, Xeno," Prince Alyn replied somberly, not minding the fact that Xeno just referred to him casually. He was, in fact, used to it. And even thankful for it. He and Xeno Gerald were friends ever since they were both eight years of age. The latter was brought to Wysteria, two decades ago, by Master Robert Branche, Xeno's uncle who was also the court painter. He became the princes' playmates but it took Prince Alyn and Prince Leo a year to have the quiet, gloomy child to smile. Their father and Master Robert have warned them never to ask about Xeno's family for the boy just lost them in a fire. It was a rule that the Crawford children obeyed religiously though they slipped up one day and witnessed how Xeno tensed up, horror clearly etched on his young face.

Ever since then, the three royal offspring swore that they wouldn't make a mistake of bringing it up anymore. They like Xeno, especially Prince Alyn, for the boy never treated them like a god, something to be revered and handled with care. Instead, Xeno Gerald treated them like they were just ordinary children, though he didn't dare do it in public lest he gets punished. For the Crawford children, it was like a breath of fresh air in a polluted space.

"I'd stake my life and wager that it has got something to do with Leo and you getting a bride," Xeno said confidently, a smirk showing up on his face when Prince Alyn glared at him. "It's your king father's nameday, my prince. What could be a better gift than to have his sons finally choose a queen?"

"I'm not going to be a king so I don't need a queen," Prince Alyn countered as he tucked his greatsword on his side. It was made of the finest steel that money can buy in the whole known world. The sword had been a present from the king himself when Prince Alyn turned fifteen. The official Crawford greatsword was already presented to Prince Leo with his status of being the Heir Apparent to the throne so the king had another greatsword forged for his youngest son. The king then explained that the sword’s design and look ー all black with little carvings of a foreign language ー also served as a homage to the family that fostered Alyn for three years ー the House of Wagner, the royal family that founded and once ruled the mysterious kingdom of Stein, not to mention the fact that the Crawfords and Wagners are distant relatives.

"You'll be lord of Laurelia someday and you'll need a lady wife," Xeno reminded his best friend. "You and Leo. Even Sid. Feasts in Wsyteria are held for prince and princess, lords and ladies, to find someone to wed."

Prince Alyn snorted at the mention of their other friend, the Heir of the Archduke Grandier, Lloyd, or more known as Sid. "I honestly cannot imagine Sid settling down. Just like Uncle Aubin, the whores at the brothels would be swallowed with grief if ever he finds a lady wife someday."

Xeno laughed at that. Princess Elise would surely cringe at her baby brother's crude words, if ever she could get over the shock of learning that he could actually say those without even batting an eye. "Sid's a man of surprises, my prince. He might do something one day, something enough to give us all a heart attack." The two of them laughed at that.

A loud knock on the door got their attentions and Prince Alyn turned serious as Xeno answered the door. The grin returned to the young knight's face when he saw who it was. "Sid. The prince and I have just been talking about you," he said as he opened the door wider to let his other friend in.

Sid huffed. "My lord father has been pestering me again about getting a bride. Says I'm old enough to father an heir and it's safer to have just one cunt to fuck than to risk siring bastards," he grumbled which made Xeno laugh again and Prince Alyn to roll his eyes.

The prince looked at his sworn sword. "It seems like you've deduced correctly, Oh Great Knight." He gave his best friend a mock bow. "Do enlighten us, your lowly servants, more."

"Your fathers," Xeno looked at Prince Alyn then back at Sid. "If either the two of you, or Leo, wins the tourney today, they will do their best to set you up with the lady you'd be naming as Queen of Love and Beauty." He laughed once more when he saw how Sid went pale at his words.

"Then I'll just name Elise as the Queen of Love and Beauty," Prince Alyn declared after a moment of thoughtful silence. Xeno arched an eyebrow at that. He got a vague feeling that Alyn knows something he didn’t.

"You think something like that could stop our fathers? I'd wager the king already have someone in mind," Sid commented to which Xeno nodded in agreement. The young Granider then narrowed his eyes at Xeno. "Are you doing this so we would purposefully lose to you?"

Xeno smirked, not the least bit insulted about what Sid have said. "No. My only aim at the tourney today is to be able to go against Ser Giles Christophe," he answered in all honesty. Giles Christophe was the heir of one of the oldest and wealthiest family in Wysteria, the Christophe family, but he threw everything away when he decided to join the Kingsguard where they weren't allowed to marry or inherit lands and properties. Giles Christophe was only a boy of ten and six when he was named as one of the king's seven, making him the youngest Kingsguard in history. And it was him who led the army who thwarted a sudden pirate attack by the harbours of Wysteria, turning him into a hero by both the highborns and the common folk. He was Xeno's muse for becoming a knight and he wanted to become someone like Ser Giles Christophe someday.

"And I would love to see you unseated by Giles Christophe," Sid retorted. It wasn't their first time to join a tourney yet it would be the first time that Giles would be joining with them. The Hero of Wysteria, as what he's called, rarely joins tourneys, as if he's repulsed by the act. It had been a pleasant surprise, at least on Xeno's part, to discover that The Hero, his Hero, would be participating at the tourney today.

"At least I wasn't the one pressured to choose a bride," Xeno threw back, looking absolutely smug when Prince Alyn and Sid scowled at him. "You don't know how grateful I am at this very moment that I'm not a highborn like you two," he gave a mock bow to his two friends, "my prince, my lord."

"We'll kill you someday, you fool," Sid muttered with Prince Alyn agreeing beside him. Xeno only answered them with a laugh.

"Enough of this," the prince said as he headed to the door. "We have to go or we'll be late. We won't hear the end of it from Elise if that happens." Xeno and Sid groaned at that as the three young men left the prince's chambers and headed to the stables where their horses were waiting.

"You look bored, my dear sister," Louis said when he spied his twin sister, Georgette, looking around the stables in a totally disinterested way. As the current champion, he was expected to join the tourney once more to defend his title. He had won the last tourney during Prince Leo and Alyn's nameday and named his sister the Queen of Love and Beauty. This time though, his father have told, more than commanded him, to name the Princess Elise the Queen of Love and Beauty when he wins the tourney. Such confidence in you father that I would win this tourney again. He wasn't sure if he would win this time to be honest. Giles Christophe would be participating. Plus, he didn't even want to be here just like his sister. All he wanted to do was to be left alone in the duchy so he could continue the tons of work waiting for him back at home in peace.

"I just came here to wish you luck, my sweet Louis," Georgette replied, a true smile on her lips as she looked up at him. "I pray you get your heart's desire today," she added almost knowingly and he had the grace to blush. She just let out a soft chuckle as she stepped closer. "Shall I help you with your armour then?" she asked and he nodded, a comfortable air surrounding them.

In order to escape the inevitable marriage that would come someday, Louis announced over dinner one night that he would want to become a member of the Kingsguard. Everyone, except for Georgette and their lady mother, had been totally surprised. A member of the kingsguard was strictly forbidden from taking a wife and inheriting a land or any property. His whole life must only be devoted to the king and his family. It was no problem for him since he didn't want a wife or a land at all.

As expected, his father threw a fit at his declaration. As honourable and prestigious the idea of a Kingsguard may be, the prospect of losing his one and only heir was unimaginable. As a result, Louis found himself meeting with potential wives the next several days.

"I wish you luck with your bethrotal to Prince Alyn, dear sister," he said, not missing it when Georgette's eyes of cerulean ー the colour of the summer sky ー clouded a bit. Their father's greatest dream was to see even one of his blood rule over the kingdom of Wysteria. He would've had offered his only daughter to Prince Leo, the Heir Apparent to the throne, but was utterly disappointed when he learned that the crowned prince was already seeing someone and their bethrotal would be announced after this tourney. Their lord father, not wanting to give up, settled for Prince Alyn then. He said that the youngest might not be the Heir but he was the one who would inherit the Crawford's ancestral seat, Laurelia. He even went further by saying that should the political tension in the Kingdom of Stein be addressed, Prince Alyn would be the rightful candidate for the position of king because of their family's blood relation, no matter how distant it was, to the last King of Stein, Gerald Wagner.

"Thank you, Louis," Georgette replied as she helped him with his breastplate. "Prince Alyn is quite a catch and he's a polite young man. He'll be a good husband to me," she said. She and the youngest Crawford prince have met each other back when they were just kids when she was sent to the kingdom of Stein, to be fostered under the Wagner Family. Prince Alyn was also there, visiting. She befriended him along with the Wagner children.

During a private dinner last night, she had the pleasure of getting acquainted with Prince Alyn's older siblings, Prince Leo and Princess Elise. She found them quite entertaining, unlike Alyn who seemed to have changed. The youngest prince was different from the mischievous boy she knew back then. He was now too quiet and too serious for her own liking but when that pet of his, a brown wolf, came padding into the room, his face lit up and his crimson eyes twinkled. The sight made Georgette's heart ache with longing. Longing for someone so dear to her but was lost now. Oh how much Prince Alyn reminded her of him when he smiled. "I think I could learn to love him in time."

But Louis wasn't fooled by her words. He had easily seen her melancholic smile. It had been two decades and they have been children back then, prone to puppy love, sweet dreams and things as such. He's never been in love yet so he's not certain if he could love a mere memory of a boy like his sister does. "After all this time?"[3] he asked.

Georgette nodded as unshed tears glistened in her eyes. Louis is the only one she dared reveal her real feelings to. They understand each other more than anyone else in the family. "Always,"[4] she whispered softly that he almost not heard it.

The crowd cheered as the tourney participants rode in the field one by one. Georgette immediately spotted Prince Alyn astride his horse with fur the same colour as Arthur's. The prince's armour was red and white, bearing the crest of the royal family. Beside him was a knight also wearing the red and white of the Crawford family. His helmet was covering almost all of his face save for his left eye.

It was the first time Georgette has ever seen said knight and she narrowed her eyes as she leaned forward to take a closer look at the man. Her heart began to hammer in her chest as she registered the man's one visible eye when he and Alyn stopped in front to greet the king. It was a familiar shade of grey, the colour of the sky when a looming storm is about to sweep in. The same as... "Who is that man riding beside Prince Alyn?" she asked her handmaiden when the two young men walked away. "I don't reckon I have seen him before."

"That's Ser Xeno, my lady. Xeno Gerald," her handmaiden replied, a small blush on her face as she stared at the knight, too. Georgette raised an eyebrow at that. "He's Prince Alyn's sworn sword and Master Robert's nephew."

"I never knew Master Robert has a nephew," Georgette commented, her expression thoughtful and her eyes never left Xeno's form. She watched as Lloyd Grandier rode up to the two, clapping Xeno on the back with a huge grin on his face. The mysterious knight said something to Prince Alyn and Sid which had the two laughing. "He and Lloyd Grandier seemed close."

"They are very close, my lady," her handmaiden, who was secretly fond of gossip, eagerly replied. "I heard he, Prince Leo, Prince Alyn and Lord Sid grew up and trained together. Prince Alyn and Ser Xeno were even taught by the Grand Maester himself."

"And I heard other ladies say that Ser Xeno is as handsome as Prince Alyn and Prince Leo. Others say he's even more handsome than them," Georgette's other handmaiden, who heard what they were talking about, added.

The youngest Howard raised an eyebrow at that but before she could say anything, her lady mother interjected. "Handmaidens aren't supposed to gossip," she reprimanded, her eyes sharp, making the two girls bow their heads in embarrassment. She then turned her gaze to her daughter. "Most especially highborn ladies," she added. "It won't do you any good to set your sights on any man other than your intended, my sweet. You wouldn't want to anger a Crawford."

Georgette nodded solemnly, not letting any emotions escape from her face. "I understand that, mama." Both she and Prince Alyn didn't want the marriage for the prince knew she loves someone else. But though they were forced together, they never voiced out any objections about it since the two of them mutually thought that they're better off together than with anyone else. "I was merely curious about Ser Xeno. I have never heard of him until today." And Prince Alyn never even told her anything about his sworn sword and how they've been friends since they were children.

Her mother didn't respond to that so Georgette returned her focus on the field when the King's tourney began. The contest was intense. The men participating, even Prince Alyn who didn't like it, were competitive. The youngest Crawford prince was able to unseat his older twin brother, Prince Leo. The Crowned Prince merely laughed at that as he clapped Alyn on the shoulder, telling him that he better win to salvage their honour in a jesting manner. Alyn only gave him a small scowl in reply.

Ser Xeno was quite magnificent in his own right, too. The mysterious knight managed to unseat Lloyd Grandier and even the current champion and her brother, Louis. Now, he was about to face Prince Alyn, the victor between the two of them would be facing Ser Giles Christophe in the championship.

"I'm not going to show any mercy, Alyn," Xeno said as he and Alyn prepared themselves. He looked around the courtyard, his gaze falling upon a beautiful young lady seated beside an older woman that he knew to be the Lady of the illustrious Howard family. He gave a start when he realised that she was looking at him, too. There was something familiar in the young lady that he couldn't put his finger to though. Feeling suddenly bold, he gave her a mischievous wink before pulling the visor of his helmet over his eyes. He grinned underneath his armour when he saw her smile instead of being put off by his bold behaviour.

"Show me your worst, Xeno," Alyn replied then the two of them grinned at each other before walking off to the opposite sides of the courtyard to where their respective horses were stationed.

In the end, Xeno proved to be a stronger lance than Prince Alyn. They jousted four times before the former managed to unseat the youngest prince off his horse, his helmet knocked off his head. The prince shook his head to stop the dizziness he was feeling as Xeno galloped towards him. "I wasn't serious when I told you to do your worst, you know," he said when his best friend, and sworn sword, got near.

Xeno laughed as he got off his horse and helped the young prince to his feet. "A man's got to do what he's got to do, my prince."

"That was sweet, Xeno! I'm forever grateful to you for avenging me!" Prince Leo teasingly called from the sidelines.

"I'm glad Xeno was able to restore your honour, Leo," Alyn said in a dry tone which made Prince Leo laugh and Xeno to smirk. The youngest prince then turned back to him. "And so you're finally going to face Ser Giles Christophe."

Xeno's smirk widened at the reminder. "Yes. A dream about to come true," he said, his young face filled with unadulterated glee, making Alyn and Leo smile as they wished their friend good luck.

Georgette watched, with baited breath, as Ser Xeno Gerald and Ser Giles Christophe faced each other on the opposite sides of the courtyard. Secretly, she couldn't wait for the tourney to end so she could finally get a glimpse of the face of the young man hiding under the Crawford armour. The crowd was evenly divided in giving their support to the two men, with excited murmurs echoing amongst the crowd.

The sound of lances bursting violently into tiny pieces echoed across the courtyard when Ser Xeno and Ser Giles finally clashed. Georgette's heart leapt in her throat as she assessed the damage caused by them. No one would be doubting the strength the two knights have as they changed their weapons and lances and prepared to joust again.

It took Ser Xeno and Ser Giles seven jousts before a winner emerged. On the last joust, the younger knight's tourney sword broke Ser Giles' lance first and hit said knight on the chest, causing him to fly out of his horse, a part of his armour cracking in the process.

Cheers erupted as Ser Xeno helped Ser Giles just like what he did to Prince Alyn. The Hero of Wysteria smiled and congratulated the young knight, his disarming smile showing and making the ladies swoon. Georgette almost rolled her eyes at that. Then she, among everyone else, watched as Ser Xeno guided his stallion towards where the king was seated with his daughter, Princess Elise. The king stood up and with Princess Elise clapping at his side, smiled at down at his youngest son's sworn sword. "I, the king of Wysteria, do hereby declare you, Ser Xeno Gerald, as the champion of the King's Tourney." The crowd erupted into cheers once more as the king handed the champion's laurel to the young knight. Then they all watched in anticipation as he mounted his stallion once more, ready to name his Queen of Love and Beauty.

Georgette followed the mysterious knight with her eyes. She was so eager to witness the moment that he would take off his helmet that she didn't notice him approaching. So she gave a little start when she finally noticed him stop in front of her. Swiftly composing herself, she watched as Ser Xeno took off his helmet and revealed his face to her for the very first time.

She didn't err when she thought that his eyes ー or the one that wasn't covered by an eyepatch ー was as dark as the sky before an incoming storm. It was the most captivating eye she had ever seen in twenty years. Ser Xeno was a very handsome young man. His hair, dark as night, was unkempt due to the helmet he wore. He had a high aristocratic nose and his lips were full and reddish for a man, making her wonder what it would feels like kissing him. Shaking her head lightly at her unbidden thoughts, she smiled at him as he placed the laurel on her lap, effectively naming her as the Queen of Love and Beauty. "I am much honoured, dear Ser," she said as she looked up at him, only to let out a soft gasp as something, a distant memory, flashed before her eyes when she saw him smile.

"You're my most favourite person in Stein and in the whole world both known and unknown, my Georgette."

Xeno, who didn't seem to notice anything, brought her hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss on her knuckle. "I am more honoured, my lady, though no flower could ever compare to your beauty."

Georgette swallowed hard to keep her emotions at bay. She must not let anyone know what she's feeling at the moment. It was one of the vital lesson her mother had taught her ー never let anyone know what you're thinking or feeling lest it could be used against you. Mustering up a smile, she curtseyed in front of the young knight. "Thank you, dear Ser."

Xeno bowed politely at her then to his lady mother before galloping off with his horse. Georgette, still a bit shaky, scanned the courtyard eventually meeting the somber crimson eyes of Prince Alyn. They stared at each other for a while before he turned to leave the palace grounds. "Mama, may I be excused?" she asked.

The Lady Howard eyed her daughter for a moment before nodding. "Don't wander too far, child. We're sitting with the King for lunch." When Georgette nodded and immediately left, she shook her head, a fond smile forming on her lips. "Be careful with what you're doing, my sweet Georgette, or you might get your heart broken once again."

[1] A quote by Maester Aemon Targaryen from Game of Thrones [2] Robb Stark’s line in Season 1, Episode 1 of Game of Thrones when he and Jon were getting a haircut. [3] & [4] That famous and overused line from Harry Potter that I really, really like.

#midnight cinderella #fic #byron wagner #and the rest of the suitors sans albert nico and rayvis #robert is there but mentioned only oho #game of thrones setting plus anastasia au #kinda sorta #once upon a december #i love that song

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funkymeihem-fiction · 7 years

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The A-Mei-Zing Outback Adventure Chapter 19

“Zǎoshang hǎo! Good morning, Roadhog,” Mei greeted the enormous man cheerfully, tossing her already-packed bag into the pile in the hallway. Roadhog lifted one hand in response before a little movement of his masked head indicated he was looking past her, at the lanky figure rising up behind her. “Hehehe, yeah, we had a good morning, all roight,” Junkrat said, leering his toothy grin as he reached out to goose her bottom. “Real good.” Mei’s face reddened on cue, and he grinned all the harder when he saw the tips of her ears change color. She turned and smacked the back of his hand with a scowl. “Stop that,” she said, “I know what you’re doing, trying to embarrass me. Huài dàn.” After spending more time with the junkers, Mei could read Roadhog a little better now. Not on the level of Junkrat, of course, who could carry on hours worth of one-sided conversations with little more than an occasional grunt or wrinkle of the forehead as responses; but now she could spot subtle little movements of his facial muscles, little tics and tells that spoke of the man behind the mask…And right now, he was rolling his eyes at them both. “Sorry!” she called after him, as he grumbled under his breath and ambled off back into the kitchen. She shot Junkrat a little dirty look as she adjusted her glasses, but he looked all the more gleeful for it, especially when she lifted a finger and shook it at him sternly. “Are we going to have to talk about this? Don’t make Mr. Roadhog uncomfortable.” “Lovey, I think if we’re talking levels of ‘uncomfortable’ what Roadie and me’s had to deal with, hearing us going at it is pretty damn low on the charts.” “Well maybe if you weren’t so loud…” Junkrat entwined his arms around her once more, his voice going high-pitched and wavering in an incredibly poor falsetto version of Mei’s accent. “My name’s Mei, I don’t want nobody to know I’m a moaner, not even when I’m getting it good, don’t want anybody to hear me going ‘ooooooh! Oooh Junkrat! Oooooh yeees, mmmmhh’!” “Oh my gosh! Stop!” she sputtered, shoving at his chest before trying to cover his mouth with both hands, as if to stifle his lewd noises by force. “Ooooohhhh Junkrat! Oooh, I’m gonna-OW!” he cried a little louder, interrupted suddenly as there was a cracking noise and he was suddenly bulled to the side when Snowball appeared from nowhere and slammed into his shoulder again, smacking its antenna across his head once more. “Ow! Son of a bitch bot, I know where you sleep!”

Mei separated them once more, pulling the enraged drone into her arms and holding it away to protect it from the irate junker, looking more than a little exasperated. “You two stop it, both of you! I swear I’m just going to leave you both here and just go to the drop point with Roadhog. We’re meeting back up with the others in just a few hours and we’ll have to give our official reports, can we at least try to be a little more professional? I’m already going to have…a lot to deal with.” She wrinkled her nose unhappily. “Dr. Ziegler is going to want to see us immediately, I know. And then I…I really need to apologize to Winston. I still need to set up a few things now that we have the eco-monitor online, once I get back to my equipment, not to mention all the damage costs and paperwork…” Snowball uttered a rather unpleasant mechanical scraping noise that she guessed was supposed to be sympathetic, its visor lights still flickering and broken as it flashed happy emoticon eyes up at her. She offered it a little smile, patting its dented body. Junkrat ruefully rubbed at the red mark across his temple where the malfunctioning weather drone had managed to strike him. “Professional is one of my many middle names, darl. I mean…if they ask me right out, I’m obliged to tell ‘em, right? Legally, officially, to make sure that I ain’t Stockholming you too bad? Because I got a feeling that monkey didn’t take too kindly to it at all, and he wasn’t fond of us in the first place. So they’re gonna strap me to a chair and grill me about how I done you?” “That is not how it would go, even if they did broach that subject,” she replied. “I am just going to sit down with Winston and explain everything, how things happened and how it went so out of control. And then if Dr. Ziegler does want to approach a more…psychiatric angle on things, I will be more than happy to handle that as well. You haven’t done anything wrong, Jamison. Nobody has. Don’t worry, we just need to focus on the extraction now.” Junkrat jabbed an oil-stained thumb behind him. “Well, Roadie says he’s got the Hog running and ready to roll! Didn’t have much to do while you were sleepin’ at first, so we sorted this place’s scrap heap and whipped something up, with the help of yours truly of course. Engine’s still janky and it don’t sound right, drives Hog right up a wall, but it should hold us and all the weapons. Speakin’ of!” She blinked as Roadhog’s heavy footsteps approached once more, this time holding a simple pulse pistol that looked comically tiny in his enormous hand, pinched almost delicately between two fingers. Mei wrinkled her nose as he carefully dropped it out into her outstretched palm. The blank lenses peered down at her as he rumbled a low, “Do you know how to u-” “I know how to shoot,” she said a little more sharply than she meant, and bit her lip. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I just haven’t had to use a gun in a very, very long time. It was part of our training back in the earlier days of Overwatch…The, erm, legitimate one. Commander Morrison always said I hesitated too much and my reaction times were slow but complimented my form on headshots. I still prefer my cryo-gun. It’s been years since I’ve had to shoot anything else.” “For what it’s worth, darl,” Junkrat said helpfully, “It always gave me a half-chub whenever I saw you sink an icicle into someone’s front lobe. Even mine, sometimes, durin’ the training.” “Jamison, that’s…actually really weird...” “Anyways eh, I always say aiming’s overrated.” He gestured to his frag launcher sitting by the door, along with a veritable arsenal of grenades and mines stacked atop each other. “Been working on that boom pile for days now, should see us through!” “Through what? What are you expecting to happen?” Roadhog lightly patted the enormous metal hook on his sagging belt. “Told you you don’t bring dropships inland. Seen people try anyway. Sand and winds give away the stealth field, and there’s always someone on the lookout for anyone stupid enough to give it a go.” Mei swallowed unsurely, looking down at the little pistol. The junkers had been adamant on that point when she’d first brought it up months ago, had even laughed at her for the very idea. She had the feeling that both of them had partaken in attacks against inland expeditions before, and no doubt that the fighting between junkers and crew would be absolutely vicious in the unending search for scrap and money. She turned to them with a frown, straightening her glasses. “Do you think it will be that bad? Can you…tell the other junkers to stop, maybe?” Both junkers immediately dissolved into outrageous fits of laughter, Hog’s enormous belly shaking mightily and the filters of his pig mask barely muffling the booming thunder of his voice, and the more vivacious Junkrat literally fell onto the floor, holding his ribs and shrilling giggles so hard that he nearly started hyperventilating. Even trusty Snowball seemed to be triggered by their glee, shaking back and forth and uttering rapid buzzing sounds as if to laugh with them. Mei frowned severely at them all and folded her arms as she leaned back, clenching her jaw and half-lidding her eyes, her expression long-suffering as she waited for it to be over. Roadhog recovered first, snorting a gulp of air and shaking his head with a simple, “No.” Junkrat remained sprawled on the floor near her feet, choking and wiping a tear from the corner of one eye with a dirty finger, leaving a smear of black on his cheek instead. “Ask ‘em to stop, Roadie! Why didn’t we ever think of that before! Oooh, near busted me gut on that one, lovey. Yeah, junkers ain’t exactly unified, and me and the pig man there ain’t exactly popular blokes with any of ‘em nowadays. Fuck me, even Tilda was a sook compared to the big nasties back in Junkertown.” “Okay, I get it, it wasn’t a bright question,” Mei grumbled. “What can we do?” “Do? Ain’t nothing to do about it. Your monkey was fuckin' insistant on sending a rescue ship, we just got to reach it before it gets arse-blasted roight outta the sky and they chop it up for parts, along with whatever fuckin’ omnic pals they’re stupid enough to send with.” he spat bitterly, wrinkling his nose at the mere mention of Overwatch’s robot agents. She gave him a hard look, choosing her next words carefully. “I doubt Winston would send an omnic on this…particular mission. But I don’t think we can be picky if he does. We need help. From anyone. Even the bots, if they do show up, so just…be prepared, in case.” Roadhog gave a dangerous low rumble, and Junkrat looked ready to answer with something he’d probably have regretted later before making himself turn away. The contention between the junkers and the omnics had caused no small amount of trouble at first. The addition of omnics to the team had been hotly debated even before their arrival, despite their only representatives being arguably the most peace-loving specimens on the entire team. Zarya and Torbjorn made their distaste of the situation clear, but military discipline bade them both keep it in check other than the occasional insult or thinly veiled threat. Roadhog and Junkrat had no such qualms about team cohesion, and only the presence of Genji and the others had kept them both from outright destroying Zenyatta on sight, even while the robotic monk plead for a non-violent compromise. There had also been an issue with Junkrat attempting to eat Bastion’s pet bird, which had ended with the junker’s peg leg shot to pieces as both parties fled in opposite directions. To say that there was ‘peace’ between them even now would have hardly been accurate. She had been firmly on Zenyatta and Bastion’s side, but had been too intimidated by Roadhog to ever speak up against him, and Junkrat had never seemed very affected by her accusations of being a bully and omnic-hater. And though she hated to admit it, even though she still did not agree with them and probably never could…she understood their reasons a little better now. The wasteland did things to a person, twisted them, warped and poisoned them as it sought to kill them like it had killed everything else here. It could make even a good person know what hate was, fill them with bitterness and violence. And she had only experienced it for a few weeks. She could not imagine spending a lifetime here, or growing up here, knowing that every moment of pain or hardship had been caused by one direct source. She decided not to pursue that particular topic any further, making a mental note to possibly try and tackle that issue somewhere down the line when things were a little less dire. Besides, this time it would be other junkers, not bots, that they had to worry about. She carefully tucked the little pistol into her belt, though its very presence still felt a little alien to her compared to the comforting weight of her freeze gun. But with her cryo-liquid tank empty and broken miles upon miles away in the wreckage of the red zone, the gun would be her only real defense… Well, her first line of defense was actually the junkers, and they both looked downright eager for a fight. Junkrat had promptly forgotten their near-argument over the omnics, and was happily adding another box of grenades to the pile, counting them under his breath. Roadhog was palming the handle of his hook in a way that looked far too erotic for Mei’s liking, so she turned away and distracted herself with the jugs of water, picking up two of the smaller ones and pushing open the screen door. The Hog was waiting just outside, freshly repaired and with one of Junkrat’s crazy faces newly painted on the dented sidecar. The others joined her, packing in and tying on as Hog tested its weight before finally giving them both a thumbs up. Mei gave the sidecar a worried look, almost filled to the brim with rattling grenades and mines all loosely crammed inside, with barely enough room for even Junkrat’s scrawny legs, much less her own. The lanky junker sniffed at one of his frags before shrugging and merely tossing it inside as well, clattering loudly and making her jump. “Um, Jamison, are you entirely sure they’re all secure and safe like that?” “Don’t you worry your beautiful head, Mei darl, those ain’t going off until I want ‘em to…Or unless we crash. Oi! Hog, mate! Don’t crash or we’re all going up, I got enough payload here to cause the second apocalypse!” Hog gave him another thumbs up and Mei uttered a resigned sigh. Carrying nothing more than weapons, some fuel, and water, Roadhog mounted his bike and Junkrat vaulted into place in the sidecar, slithering into place like he’d done a thousand times before before looking to the little climatologist standing awkwardly nearby. He batted both scraggly brows, grinning widely and patting his lap with a few lewd smacks of his palm, wiggling slightly. “Sorry, ain’t no room left except right here! Come on, get comfy!” She gave him a rather flat look, but took his hand as he reached out, scooting in over the side and landing with her elbows clanging against a stack of mines. She straightened quickly, scrambling onto his lap and trying to get as small as possible, clearly disliking being surrounded by hundreds of active explosive devices on all sides. Snowball circled around them before wedging itself into a tiny space still left under the sidecar’s lid, offering Mei a comforting pair of happy emotive eyes. It seemed the little bot was just as eager to get going as the rest of them. Mei glanced around her. “…Seatbelts?” Both junkers began laughing again. Junkrat whomped the side of the car with a loud clang, signaling Roadhog, and with a kick of his armored boot and the rattling roar of the Hog’s new engine, they were off. ***

She had ridden briefly in the motorcycle during the attack of Tilda’s gang, when she and Roadhog had ambushed them from the side. But it had been the first time she’d ever ridden in a vehicle with actual, antiquated wheels. She was unused to the strange feeling of the physical road beneath them, bumping and rattling and vibrating through her bones. Some men, like Roadhog, were never content unless they felt the roar of an engine and a highway beneath their wheels. But Mei could swear she felt every pebble or crack they ran over, shooting straight through her spine as she tried to keep herself steady, her face turning a light shade of gray-green. The ride was having a very different effect on the other passenger sitting beneath her, and when she felt something jab into her rear, she absent-mindedly went to remove it, thinking one of the pieces of scrap metal or grenade pins had gone astray. What her fingers found was neither of those things, and she gave Junkrat a scandalized look, adjusting herself atop his lap primly, having to yell over the noise of the engine. “Jamison! Really!?” “What! It’s the vibrations!” “Well, stop!” “Can’t help it! I’m just an average bloke what’s vibrating all around with you on my lap, what do you expect! Ain’t you feelin’ it too? Thought sheilas loved vibratin’ things!” “Don’t say things like that! And I’m feeling…sick?” “Aw, love. Well, try not to chunder, can’t have your liquid lunch gumming up the frags if we need ‘em. Here, if ya need to, just lean out over the side and then you can yak or piss or whatever and it’s gone in the wind, that’s what I do!” Mei turned another shade of green and hid her face in both hands. This rescue couldn’t come soon enough. The Hog continued thundering along the road, clouds of red dust billowing behind them. Mei tried to distract herself with the scenery, though there was not much to look at. The yellow zone was not as bereft of life as the red zone, but there was little to see beyond red rocks and dirt, scrubby, thorny desert brush, and the very occasional struggling tree. She did spot a number of lizards, sunning themselves atop the stones or slithering about in the shade, and once Junkrat tapped her shoulder to point out a lone kangaroo that was standing and glaring at them from the side of the road. It did not look like the friendly roo she had once pet at a wildlife zoo. This one was warped by radiation and was missing patches of its hair, and had what looked like an extra leg growing and dangling from its belly, its toes warped and claws curled. Mei could swear it was giving them a rude gesture as they passed it by. It seemed like the people of Australia were hardly the only things suffering in this land. They drove on for several hours, pausing only to top off from their gas can and a bathroom break, where Mei quietly puked the remains of last night’s dinner into a bush while Junkrat awkwardly patted her back and offered her water. Then it was squeezing back into that awful sidecar and back atop his lap. At least he wasn’t trying to get handsy with her anymore while she tried to rest, instead taking a pair of binoculars and peering at the oncoming horizon as they rode onward. Occasionally he’d giggle or frown at something he saw, when he suddenly began banging on the side of the cart, startling Mei and causing Roadhog to slow to a stop as the engine idled. “Oi oi oi! I see somethin’, real far off! Mei, scoot?” He awkwardly maneuvered out from under her, squishing her to one side as he struggled to stand. His immense height towered above her as he straightened his long spine, stretching upward as he clicked at the focus buttons on the old lenses. “Ohhhh, I think that might be them. Welp, looks like that’s a fair bad bit of luck there! They’ve already been spotted, looks like they got a crowd!” “What!” Mei pushed at him to stand as well, nearly causing them both to fall over as she snatched the binoculars and peered through them. It took her a moment to find what he had even been talking about. It was incredibly far off still, but with the higher-powered focus, she could see the shape of MV-261 Orca, Overwatch’s main dropship. Its stealth field had apparently been dropped, and even as she watched, she could see little flashes of yellow light and clouds of black smoke puffing silent around it…explosions, hitting it from below. The rocks on the horizon obscured whatever was on the ground, but judging by the sheer amount of little cloud puffs, the Orca was already taking a beating. “R-Roadhog! Can we go a little faster please! I think they’re under attack, and they’re not even near the meeting point yet!” Junkrat pulled her back down into the cart as Roadhog pressed the throttle, wheels spinning in the dirt as they took off. The wind whistled in her ears, holding her scarf onto her head as sand pelted her glasses, gnawing at her bottom lip. Her companions had not been kidding about not taking dropships inland. She never should have lost her temper with Winston and cut him off. She should have kept communications up while she still had them, should have warned them about taking something smaller, or maybe they should have given them a few more days to take a roller after them, or maybe they should never have sent a rescue at all. Worse yet, they had no equipment to even try and establish communication with the ship, and were going in blind. The red storms were avoidable now, with the eco-monitor keeping a watchful eye on things. The outback’s vicious inhabitants, less so. She felt Junkrat tense under her, and almost scolded him again before she heard him growl suddenly, one arm encircling covetously around her. She turned and saw that they were no longer alone. Further away, on both sides of them, were the telltale smoky red trails of other vehicles traveling through the dust. One was an old wheeled roller like theirs, an ancient truck armored with metal plates and a large harpoon-like gun mounted on its back, the other a more modern levitating utility vehicle. Both were manned by other junkers. The hover-jeep veered a little closer to them, and one of the men in the back lifted his gun and gave a whoop of delight. Junkrat flashed his wide smile and lifted his frag launcher in reply. As far as anyone knew, they were just another pack of junkers who had heard about the ship that been stupid enough to fly over outback territory…Years ago, they would have been just that, just two more men heading to help rip apart whatever they thought they could get, their blood boiling as they readied for a fight. Now he was readying for a fight, but to protect that very dropship. Not that he particularly cared for the Orca or whatever combatants they’d sent along inside it, but if Mei was sick and that ship was her hope of getting better, he’d blow up every other junker in the whole desert if it meant getting her on board and out of there. She had shrunk back against his chest, looking up with an unsure expression as the other men drove nearer. He squeezed her side, his other hand still on the trigger of his gun just in case. Roadhog was similarly wary, occasionally glancing from side to side to mark their progress. They couldn’t afford to start a battle now, even if it would thin their numbers a bit. They simply drove on, as other dust clouds appeared on the horizon…more junkers racing to reach their gruesome prize. The ship itself was still struggling in the air, becoming more visible the closer they got. It was still miles out from the agreed meeting point. The hull was already showing signs of damage, as the remaining defense turrets struggled to keep their attackers at bay. Even as Mei watched, there was a faint booming noise from the rocks, and a volley of rockets launched from below, striking the bottom of the ship as another turret came loose and fell to the ground in flames. Javelins peppered the Orca’s underbelly, some still attached to cords and chains, slowing and weighing it down. The whole ship was starting to list dangerously to one side, and Mei gave a little cry of alarm as she stood up in the sidecar, pointing ahead. “H-hurry! We have to hurry! I-I think it’s going down!”

#meihem #junkmei #meirat #fanfiction #funkyfluff #junkrat #jamison fawkes #mei #mei-ling zhou #roadhog #mako rutledge #junkers #attack #overwatch #outback #adventure

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unintentionalshipping · 7 years

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Gency Week - Day One - First

I’m late, I know, I’m truly sorry. This has taken a lot longer than expected to finish, and had to go through multiple rewrites, hopefully it still turned out okay! Just some quick things I want to discuss;

1:This is the first fic and the fist time I have posted some of my writing publicly, please be gentle on me :)

2: The fictions posted will flow on from one another, starting here and ending at Day Seven (Day Two doesn’t count due to it being an AU)

3: That means it should end up as one massive fan fiction split into days.

Anyway, hopefully you enjoy these, its been a pleasure so far! :)

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First

The tranquil gardens surrounding her lay mostly silent, except for the occasional wave of laughter from inside the Watchpoint. Small waves courageously fought against the rocky cliff faces below, sending reflective droplets of water back into the sea. The silent and dormant moon cast its reflection onto the water, illuminating the face of the watchful doctor. A cool breeze began to estrange some of the vibrant blonde hair from Angela’s head, which she reactively brushed behind her ear. The nights at the old Watchpoint Gibraltar reminded her of the good old times, but this isn’t like the old times. The world has changed, Overwatch is needed again, but is being hunted for their past. Sighing, Angela leaned onto the railing in front of her, taking in the calm of the night.

For Doctor Ziegler, late nights and a clouded mind was nothing short of a normal day, however, with the recent recall of Overwatch and its respective agents, the last few days have been some of the most stressful. The future for not only herself but all of the agents inside who have answered the call has now been thrown into a dark tunnel, and no one knows where the lights at the end of it is. She shivered, buts wasn’t sure if it was the cold or the concerns she had.

More waves crashed against the razor sharp shoreline as another wave of hearty laughter pierced the starry night. She couldn’t help but smile as she heard calls for another round by the group, with cheers following the request. She wasn’t only worried for herself, the others who answered the call where in just as much danger, some maybe more, but all somehow the same when they left.

So many people answered the call, old and new. Reinhardt, Torbjorn, Tracer, McCree and Winston were the only original heroes of Overwatch to return, besides herself of course. Some new blood also found their location, including Lucio and D.va, two iconic stars in the recent world. All of these people were here before she arrived, having only arrived a few days ago. However, as she had scanned the smiling faces before her, one green helm was missing, sinking her heart to the bottom of her chest.

The cold winds began to pinch at her skin, sending shivers down her spine. The black Overwatch T-Shirt and her jeans weren’t holding up well against the cold, but that was the least of her worries. Rubbing her hands together to keep warm, she couldn’t help but think of Overwatch before its collapse, Images of agents, missions, late nights and hot chocolate ran past her vision, each memory sweeter that then last.

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The night was silent, all except for the young Doctor Ziegler furiously typing away on her keyboard in her office. The office itself was quaint and cosy, small ornaments and plants were delicately placed around the grey office, with a side room leading to a bedroom hardly ever used by its owner. On the desk sat a large computer screen with a tired Angela sat behind it, desperately trying to complete some extra research that she had been experimenting with for a while. The clock on the computer screen flicked to 11:00 pm, signalling the sixth hour straight that she had been working on this paper for. She just managed to stifle a yawn, her eyes desperately trying to stay open as the paper seemed to be getting longer and longer each passing minute.

She was snapped awake by a knock on her door. Curious, she made her way to the door, wondering who on earth was knocking on her door at this time. She slowly opened the door to find a cyborg ninja outside her door, holding a steaming cup in one hand and a small block of wood in the other. She couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked in her doorway, even if it was unexpected.

��Genji! What are you doing here? Weren’t you just on a mission?”

“Yes, but I heard from some of the other agents that you don’t really eat or drink when you are so focused on your work, so I thought that you might….uh… enjoy this.”

His words trailed off as he showed her the contents of the cup. Steaming hot chocolate sent rich aromas through the doorway, filling Angela with warmth and comfort. She gladly took the cup from him and held it between her hands, letting the warmth from the cup slowly fill her up. She looked directly at Genji now, noticing him staring slightly at the floor, occasionally looking up at her, then instantly diverting his gaze when he saw her watching.

“Genji, this is so sweet, you really shouldn’t have. Would you like to come in?” She stepped aside, indicating for him to enter. He nodded his head in thanks as he walked into the room, looking back as Angela closed the door behind him.

While she moved to reclaim her spot behind the computer, Genji made his way to nearby seat, where he sat for a while and studied the office, his facial expression hidden behind his helm.

“Your office is quite lovely, Dr Ziegler. You have a knack for decoration”.

Her face couldn’t help but become bright red as he said this; a small smile crept onto her face as she tried to bury her face into her computer screen to hide the reddening of her cheeks.

“Thank you Genji.” But please, call me Angela.” She spoke more to the computer screen than him, not trusting her cheeks to retain their normal shade.

“Of course…Angela. Please, continue with your work. I can leave if I prove to be annoying or a burden.” He motioned to the door with the block of wood in his other hand; turning to face her, expecting her to ask him to leave.

“No! No of course not Genji, you’re very welcome to stay; I could use the company to be honest.” Her voice trailed away as she thought of how little she speaks to people based on her dedication to her work. She gets so few visitors, and none really want to stay and talk. This was something unusual, but was something she welcomed.

He nodded his head in return and pulled out a small knife from its sheathe fastened onto his back. He then began to slowly carve away at the wood, idly chatting with the doctor, who eagerly responded and asked many questions of her former patient. The hot chocolate sat beside her on the desk, warming her up every time she drank. She had to admit, Genji could make some amazing hot chocolate. It wasn’t long until the hot chocolate was finished, the paper sent out, and a small figure began to appear out of the block of wood that Genji had been carving from. She stood up and stretched as the light from her screen dimmed, noticing the movement from the armchair on her left. Genji stood up and strode over to Angela’s desk, grabbing the now empty cup from her and was just about to turn around to leave when he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“Genji, thanks for staying, I really appreciate it.” She spoke softly, wanting Genji to understand how much this small act of friendship meant to her. She let go of his shoulder as he turned to face her, the cup now the least of his concerns.

“It was my pleasure, Angela. Please, get some rest, you deserve it after your efforts tonight.”

He began to walk towards the door, the cup and block of wood hanging loosely by his waist as he walked. He reached the doorway, his few free fingers clasping the handle to leave.

“Genji, wait!” She crossed the room in an instant, coming close enough to hear the soft hum of the cybernetics keeping him stable. A curious aroma of steel and cherry filled her nostrils, sending a warm feeling to her face. He stared down at her, trying to work out what she wanted, did he offend her somehow?

“Angela, I’m sor-“

“Could you come back tomorrow night Genji?”

The words shot out of her mouth like a speeding bullet, her hand coming over her mouth as the words travelled through the room, reflecting through Genji’s brain. She could practically feel the red colouring her cheeks, her heart beating way to fast to be considered healthy. His reply was swift and elevated, his voice slightly higher pitch than normal.

“Of course Angela, same time tomorrow night?”

“Yes, see you then” She ushered him out of the door and closed it shut, her mind racing with the events of tonight and the plans for tomorrow. She made her way to her bed, simply choosing to flop onto her sheets rather than to bother changing and using what little energy she had left to climb into bed. She let out a sigh before drifting off, the scent of hot chocolate filling her with warmth as she slept.

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Days turned into months as the two became close friends. Every night Genji would make his way to Angela’s room, usually carrying his signature cup of steaming hot chocolate and his wooden carving. She would always run to the door and answer it for him, always happy to hear the familiar greeting and smell the rich aroma of hot chocolate coming from the other side of the door. Throughout the visits, Angela and Genji began to see more of each other, often sparking up conversation in hallways and sitting together in meetings with other agents. These conversations would continue long into the night, with papers waiting to be done and hot chocolate already gone.

The mystery of the wooden carving was finally solved when Angela’s birthday finally came around for another year. She returned to her office to find a large present placed neatly on her desk, wrapped in green paper with an adorable red bow on top. A small note accompanied the gift, which was immediately opened by the ecstatic doctor. She wasn’t one to receive many birthday wishes on her birthday, much less presents of any kind, so this was something she was excited to see unfold. She tore open the letter to find a small note accompanied by a sparrow feather, which see gently placed onto the now crowded desk. She quickly poured over the note and couldn’t help but blush.

To Angela:

Happy Birthday! Hopefully you have an amazing day! I wish I could celebrate it with you, but Morrison insisted I joined him on his latest mission. Enjoy the gift!

Regards:

Genji

She quickly cast the note aside and opened the gift, almost dropping it after seeing its contents. A beautifully crafted wooden dragon rested in her arms, its small eyes watching her with a look of comfort and kindness. It was perched atop a small rock, appearing to overlook its surroundings. She gently placed the dragon onto her desk, facing it towards her as she sat behind her computer, feeling a burn on her cheeks and a tear leave her eye.

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However, all good things must come to an end, and that end came when Genji finally defeated the last remnants of the Shimada Clan. He returned to the base with guilt and confusion plaguing his heart, not knowing who he has become as a person. He slowly made his way into the facility; he had one and only one stop to make before he would leave Overwatch behind.

He found himself standing outside of Angela’s door, his hand seemingly stuck on the handle, unsure of whether he should enter or not. His question was answered for him when he was suddenly right in front of the doctor, her usual lab coat replaced with a casual shirt and shorts. She jumped as she saw him, her face becoming more relaxed as she spoke

“Genji! You’re back! I was just about to go and find you! Would you like to come in?” she gestured to the seat he usually occupied when he joined her in the middle of the night. He silently nodded and followed her inside the office, closing the door behind him with a sigh. She sat atop the desk, waiting for him to take his seat on her left. The dragon carving sat facing the door, deterring anyone from disturbing the meeting between these two people. She brushed some of her wild hair out of her face as she looked at the man before her, a sense of fear washed over her as she saw him fidget in his seat.

“Genji, is everything okay?” She sounded shaky, the fidgeting only continuing from Genji as she spoke. A small sigh escaped him as he replied, his words were slow and quiet, almost as if he was unsure of what he was saying.

“Angela, I must leave. I do not feel at peace here. This place, Overwatch, is not my home anymore. The family I once knew is gone; a piece of me is gone when we finished our mission today. I don’t know who I am anymore. Am I omnic or human? Am I able to feel love or happiness without feeling guilty for having these emotions?”

The words cut deep into Angela’s heart; small scars began to form every time he mentioned how he felt, slowly destroying her on the inside. Tears began to form as she saw his body shake, his gaze facing towards the ground, never looking at her face as he spoke. He lifted himself from his seat and began to move towards Angela, his fingers playing with something in his hand.

“I will leave tonight, it won’t take me long to gather my things and sneak out of the base. No one needs to know that I am leaving, expect you. Angela, you have shown me great friendship and compassion while I have been here, and I want you to know that I appreciate it. You have been one of the greatest things that has happened to me in a long time.”

The tears were running rampant now, spilling from her eyes and running down her cheeks. Her whole body shook with sadness as she watched him edge closer, his hand opening hers. He placed his hand into hers, leaving a small silver necklace in her hand. She brought the necklace close to examine it, marvelling at the craftsmanship and design of the necklace. The necklace was beautiful silver with a small cherry blossom tree depicted in the centre. It was beautiful, but did not take away what was happening in front of Angela.

“I want you to have it. I don’t know when, or if, I will return here, but I wanted you to have something to remember me by. Promise me you will look after yourself, okay?”

She took one final look at the necklace before jumping off the desk and leaping at Genji, wrapping her arms around his middle as she placed her head atop his shoulder. She gripped him tighter as he reactively moved backwards, before he placed his arms around her in turn. They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, Angela silently sobbing into Genji’s shoulder as his usual scent of steel and cherry washed over her like a wave. He eventually pulled away from the doctor and made his way to the door, looking back one final time as he pulled on the handle to open the door.

“Goodbye, Angela”

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Tears began to cloud her eyes as she thought of him, her fingers reactively stroking the small silver necklace she still wore under her shirt. The small cherry blossom acting as memento for the man she felt the closet to, reflecting small silver flashes against the pure light of the moon above. Tears began to cloud her eyes as she thought of him. Where was he? Was he safe? Why isn’t he here? She tugged at the necklace harder as these thoughts crossed her mind, small tears beginning to form from the corners of her sparkling blue eyes. It’s been so long since she has talked to someone about something besides medicine, so long since she last was treated like an equal and not just a lab coat, so long since she has felt… appreciated. She brushed the tears away from her eyes, leaning further on the railing, focusing on the now calming waves below.

“It’s good to see you getting some fresh air, Angela.”

She spun around to see who spoke to her, and almost shrieked at the sight of them. Without thinking, she ran towards him and brought him close, the once familiar scent of steel and cherry filling her with sweet memories and happiness. She held on tight, not wanting him to slip away from her again, her left cheek resting atop his shoulder. Tears once again began to flood her eyes, spilling freely onto his shoulder as she kept holding on. She felt his hands rest on her back, bringing her closer into a tight embrace. A nervous laugh filled her ears as his cool hands eventually separated them.

“It’s good to see you as well, Angela”

Though the doctor could not see it, a large smile etched itself into Genji’s face, grinning from one red check to the other.

“Shall we meet the others?” Her voice shook with emotion as she stared at the man before her; an unbelievable sense of warmth overcame her as she stood before him.

“Lets” A hand found his as Angela pulled him towards the laughter and singing nearby, both happy to see eachother again after so long.

#gency week #gencyweek #gency #day1 #fanfic

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