#'Uh huh... Mr. Bile. Can you tell me what you did *wrong*?'

[james-p-sullivan]

#this movie had the BEST opening #with phlegm being genuinely terrifying but then completely fucking it up #only to find out it was a simulation #and then ms flint comes in 'Alright Mr. Bile is it...?' #'Uhhhh my friends call me Phlegm...' #'Uh huh... Mr. Bile. Can you tell me what you did *wrong*?' #UGH I LOVE IT #genuinely my favourite movie i promise you i deserve this url #monsters inc #james p sullivan #sulley #mr waternoose #henry j waternoose #pixar #disney #disney pixar #yeah this is a reupload of a very old gifset #scheduled post

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E5; Chapter Five, Dig Dug - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

After a run-in with Will, a troubled Y/n teams up with an unlikely ally in her search for answers. “Bob the Brain” tackles a difficult problem.

||3rd Person POV||

El opens her eyes, finding herself in the familiar dark and damp setting. In the distance, she sees a bed. The covers are hanging off the mattress and grazing the water only she can see. She walks forward towards the bed cautiously, unsure if the figure lying in it is awake. As she approaches the bed she can make out more details.

The comforter is dotted with leaves and vines, intricate flowers in various hues sprinkle the vines and there a few embroidered pillows that look older and handed down. The figure on the mattress is lost in sleep, her limbs splayed out in many different directions. The figure is still dressed, clothes El has seen at least once before. The girl wearing them is hugging her pillow, a small frown etched on her face as she is troubled and tired.

El is in front of her now, just at her bedside and she can't help but take note of the drying circles on her pillow where the girl had been crying.

What could have happened? And would she be making it worse if she were to wake her and share with her what she had to share? El couldn't help but wonder.

But she also knew she would want to know. And she did miss her friend terribly. After all, they were from the same place and Y/n had every right to know about her own past as much as El did.

Not waiting any longer, she reached out and laid a gentle hand on her friend's shoulder. Nothing happened and so she gently shook her. Much to her delight Y/n moved slightly, which meant it was working. She shook again and only then did she allow herself to speak.

"Y/n? Y/n!"

Her eyes fluttered open and she caught sight of El. She peered up at her through her lashes, a groggy and confused look on her face.

"El?"

She nodded, a weak smile on her face.

"What are you doing here? Am I dreaming?"

She shook her head no.

"No. But I am real."

"I-I don't understand."

"I found my Mama."

"Wait, what? You found your mom? That's great," Y/n mumbled, fighting consciousness.

She was trying desperately to maintain conversation but the truth was she was very tired and she couldn't be sure what she was seeing or hearing was real.

"There's something else."

Y/n applied all the strength she could muster to keep her eyes open, they felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds. She hummed a 'what' in response, indicating for El to continue.

"Proof."

"I don't understand. What proof, El?"

"Where you come from."

×××

Will bolts up straight in a cold sweat, gasping for air. His bangs cling to his forehead and he is gasping for breath.

"Will?"

Mike sits up startled from his nest on the floor, looking up worriedly at his best friend. He is still dressed in his clothes from the previous day, his hood perched on his head.

"What's wrong?"

Will looks to Mike, fear in his eyes.

Joyce sits in the middle of her living room, lost in a trance as she gazes at the maze of paper tunnels. The small calls for her from Will are lost to her, and it is not until she feels a light touch on her shoulders that she is pulled from this trance.

"Mom?"

Joyce gasped in surprise but readjusts quickly for her son.

"Yeah?"

Will was crouching down, concern etched in his features and Mike stands just a few feet away.

"I saw him," Will says gravely.

"You saw who, baby?"

"Hopper," Joyce frowns slightly, and she can feel her blood run cold at her son's words. "I think he's in trouble. I think he's going to die."

×××

Hopper gasps for air as he is ripped from unconsciousness. He looks around, the memories of what had happened come flooding back. Collecting himself to the best of his ability, he scrambles to his feet. The man knows he can't last long without fresh air and the particles floating amongst the smog would do him no good. His senses overwhelm him and already his body is rejecting the environment and toxic air. He doubles over as his body ejects the contents of his stomach.

Hopper grunts in disgust, the bile burning his throat and tongue. Though he doesn't allow himself any more time to waste, knowing he had to find the exit. He grabs his hat, returning it to his head and finds the flashlight beside him as he climbs to his feet. Hopper runs his free hand along the ceiling of the slimy dank tunnels as he speeds down the familiar path. Just as he had feared, he found no breaks, the hole he had dug had in fact closed up and he now stands at a dead end.

"Shit!"

Hopper reminds himself to steady his breathing. He knows now he has no immediate way out. No source of fresh oxygen and he knew he must save his breath. He is able to subdue the sporadic thoughts of panic racing in his mind, and he all he allows himself to think about is his oxygen intake. Even if he slowed his breathing he was still at risk for the toxic spores hanging in the air.

A little light bulb goes off in his head and he takes out his pocket knife, opening it up and raising it to his shoulder. He has to place the flashlight between his teeth in order to make a clean cut, but he is able to create a rip in the fabric. With one swift movement, Hopper tears the left sleeve off his uniform. Removing the flashlight from his mouth, he ties the sleeve over his face crafting a crude air filtration, somewhat safe from the deadly spores around him.

Calming his racing heart he treads on in the direction he had come. But he comes to a reluctant stop, the beam from his flashlight shifting uncertainly between a fork in the tunnel. He could not remember where he had come from. Hopper does not know why but his mind takes him to El. The familiar feeling of warmth and joy she brought to his dull life sparks in his chest and a terrible thought strikes him.

What if I never see her again?

Their last interaction would be the terrible words exchanged and the mess left behind. And worst of all, she would be alone and in danger. He couldn't let that happen, and he promised himself he would get himself out. And apologize, work things out like he should have the prior morning. They would play games together again, do puzzles and even fix up the TV and continue their western marathons. He would read to her again every night, hell maybe he could find some more of Sarah's old books and-

Hansel and Gretel. He chuckles lightly under his breath. Half in relief and a half in disbelief for not thinking of it before. Hopper reaches into his left breast pocket and retrieves the stash of cigarettes. He's thankful he had grabbed a fresh pack. He took a single stick in his fingers and broke it in half, discarding the piece on the path, beginning his trail.

×××

Mrs. Henderson shivers as she steps into her front room. She had spent all morning looking for Mews, she even shook brought the felines favorite toy, shaking the bell attached knowing she usually came running. Her spirits perked when she saw Dustin on the phone.

"Dusty, baby, you're sure she's not in your room."

Dustin gulped, thankful his back was to his mother and she could not see his widened eyes. He holds a finger out for a pause, mindlessly mumbling an 'uh-huh'.

He does his best to ignore the operator on the line as he pretends to be taking a phone call. He hoped it was enough to fool his mother.

"Thank you so much, Mr. McCorkle. Thank you so much. You are a true life-saver. Thank you... All right. Have a good one. Bye-bye, now... All right... you too."

Mrs. Henderson felt a wave of relief wash over her hearing her son's words.

"Alright, great news," Dustin said, turning to her and hanging up the phone.

"They found her?" Her voice shook as she spoke.

"No," he said gently, stepping towards her mother. "But they saw her, wandering Loch Nora,"

Even her breath was trembling as she fought back sobs of relief.

"How did the poor baby get all the way over there?"

"I don't know, lost I guess," Dustin cooed. "But they're gonna look for her and I'll stay here, just in case they call again. And you're gonna go help look? Yeah?"

He tried to ignore the clenching feeling of guilt around his heart, giving his mother false hope like this. She smiled through her sobs and nodded eagerly.

"Give me a hug, give me a hug," She gratefully hugged her son, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. "You're gonna find her, alright?"

Mrs. Henderson backed away eagerly, nodding her head trying to convince herself that would find her beloved cat.

"We can find her." He said reassuringly.

"We can find her." She repeated eagerly.

Mrs. Henderson grabbed her keys off the counter and headed towards the door.

She looked to her only son and sniffled, her voice was still slightly shaky.

"Dusty," another sniffle. "Honey, check on your sister, sweetie. She came home awfully upset again, and-and let you let her know where I'm going okay?"

"Of course, yeah, uh-huh."

"C-cause, I'm sure she'll be glad to hear they saw Mews. You let her know, okay baby?"

"Of course. I will go check on her right now. Okay. Hey,"

She paused in the front door, looking back at her son.

"I love you." Dustin blew a kiss at his mother, a fake smile plastered on her face.

She reciprocated, unknowingly the only genuine.

"I love you,"

"I love you"

"I love you,"

"Alright go, alright," He eased her out the door with encouragement and a thumbs up.

His smile did not falter until she had closed the front door.

Now to get Y/n out of the house.

||Reader's POV||

I nearly lost my balance as I slip the left shoe over my foot. I grabbed my bag and rifled through it once more making sure I had everything I needed.

I still can't believe I'm doing this. I just hope it really was real, and I'm not just doing this for nothing. But it had to be real, it had to be.

"Meet me at nine four five. Outside Mirk-wood."

"El?"

"Don't tell. Anyone."

She vanished before I could say anything else. I vaguely remember seeing her in my room, but at the same time, she wasn't completely real. She almost looks transparent. The only thing convincing about all this was what she had said to me at the school. She had a way of contacting me. This must be it.

Everything was in my bag, by now I have triple checked my bag but I still don't feel quite ready. Then again, I don't know if I'll ever be prepared to find out what happened to me, but I don't want to let that stop me.

I took a deep breath, willing away the nerves bubbling in my stomach to the best of my ability. My bag over my shoulder, I turned the doorknob and the door swung open. I flinched when I saw Dustin on the other side. His first hung in the air, ready to knock and he seemed surprised.

My eyes dropped to my bag nervously before fleeting back to his. I gulped.

"I'm going to Will's. Mike and I are gonna stay the night with him, and make sure he's alright."

Dustin seemed to process this but he blinked soon enough, shaking himself from shock. I could have sworn he seemed relieved, and I could feel relief myself.

"That's great, you should do that. He really needs you."

As if this morning wasn't already perfectly strange, Dustin was talking in a weird soothing voice and he walked me to the door. I didn't linger on it too much before I started worrying about what I was about to do. I was so excited at the possibility of seeing El again, but where are we going and how long would I be gone?

I realized we were nearing the door and I hadn't even registered that he had been talking to me.

"...at Loch Nora, looking. And don't worry, I'll man the phones. You just worry about Will, alright?"

I mindlessly mumbled an "uh-huh" and I turned to home when I reach the door.

"Dustin?"

He blinked lightly and continued in that weird soothing voice. His mannerisms reminded me of something you'd see from a spa worker. I shrugged it off, too wracked with guilt that I was basically leaving my family, who loved and cared for me to find someone I didn't even know.

I looked him in the eye, and I felt something rare. Rare for the two of us at least. Genuine admiration. I thought of all the fun and harmless little pranks we'd pull on Mom together. Or the times he looked out for me, and how much he genuinely cared about me.

"I love you,"

Before I could acknowledge any odd looks from him I wrapped him in a hug and he reciprocated.

"I love you too. Don't worry, we'll find her."

My eyes opened, still locked in an embrace with my brother and I frowned.

What?

"What? Find who?"

We both pulled away and it was his turn to look confused.

"Mews."

"Mews is missing? When?"

"I just- I just told you." He blinked several times but shook his head, slowly gesturing me out the door once more. "It's no big deal. Mews got out the other night and long story short, someone saw her wandering around in Loch Nora and Mom is headed there now. Don't even worry about it, okay?"

I nodded, my mind still racing. My eyes and hand fell to the doorknob and I gave my brother one last glance before I disappear out the front door.

||3rd Person POV||

Unbeknownst to the two of them, the Henderson children stood on either side of the door, simultaneously breathing a sigh of relief.

Y/n tightens the grip on her bag and began walking towards the garage out of habit until she saw her bike laying in the grass where she had left it last night. She sighed and grabbed her bike only to realize the rubber around handlebars were melted down in the center. A rough and messy shape of where her hands had been was clear, underneath it all was the metal core of the bike's structure. She gasped, examining the odd sight until her mind wandered to the previous night.

Was that why they seemed wet? Holy crap, I melted my bike.

Y/n shook her head in disbelief before she checked the time. Nine twenty, she had to get moving. Mounting her bike, she cast one last longing glance at her home, reassuring herself that what she was doing was right. Not a moment longer she disappeared around the corner and into a path amongst the trees.

Dustin lay on his hands and knees below the front window. He winced at the slight prickling feeling of rug burn that had managed to get to him through his jeans. As Y/n had retrieved her bike from the grass, he sped to the window, waiting for confirmation that she had finally left.

Unfortunately for him, she turned and looked back at the house, and he cursed himself for allowing himself the vulnerability. He had to drop down onto the floor to avoid being seen by his sister, but luckily she had just missed him. Moments passed and when he heard her soft but identifiable footsteps nearing the porch he knew it was safe to peek. Sure enough, he saw her disappear around the corner down the road, a small cluster of autumn leaves flying off the ground at her climbing speed.

He jumped to his feet and ran outside through the back door. He ripped open the cellar doors and retreated back into the house. He didn't stop running until he reached the hall closet and ripped them open. He turned on the light, the metal chain swinging back and forth, even hitting him as he bent down to retrieve his gear.

He was grateful he kept his and Y/n's old baseball stuff. He remembered the day him and Y/n saw a program on TV and the kids were playing baseball. That same day, the pair begged and pleaded their mother for the gear and when she finally caved, Y/n and Dustin spent all of summer break out in their backyard. Granted they were new to it and barely managed to hit the ball more than five times between the two of them but they had a blast. Of course, they usually played with the rest of the party, and Dustin was almost always the umpire, given he had gear for it. As for Y/n, she had a pretty decent arm, she made the best pitcher out of the group. Naturally though, school rolled around again and the following summer was when they officially formed the party for their very first campaign.

Dustin was thankful him and his sister had been so damn stubborn and he was certainly very thankful his mother had gotten them what they had so desperately wanted. Now he had protection from Dart.

He tossed everything in the living room and went to the kitchen. Ripping open the fridge door he grabbed every variety of meat he could find. His confident urgency waved only slightly when he approached his closed door. He began the trail of meat outside his room and all the way out to the cellar. He closed every other door in the house as a precaution and suites up. His usual hat lay discarded on the living room chair in exchange for his umpire helmet. To top it all off he adorned his mother's pair of oven mitts. Not ideal for the situation but was the best he could find.

Now completely geared up, he grabbed his hockey stick just for short measure. He stood outside his room, careful not to step on the trail of bologna and got ready to run.

"Alright, Dart," He called. "Breakfast time,"

Not allowing himself to think about it any longer he ripped open the door and starting running. A mantra slipped from his mouth as he wobbled through the house, his gear restricting his speed.

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit."

He was outside now, and he had already heard light thumps of wet feet behind him. He did his best to speed up and before he knew it he was safe in the shed.

Panting heavily and still trying to calm his racing heart, Dustin stepped towards the shed door. He peered through a slit in the boards and waited for the slimy figure to emerge from the open door.

"Come on, I know you're hungry" he mumbled.

Dustin gasped when he saw Dart trudge down the steps. Just as he had predicted, Dart was happily gobbling up every slice of bologna and ham in the trail Dustin laid out.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," he mumbled.

He had to move around the shed in order to see Dart approach the open cellar doors. Everything had been going so smoothly. Up until Dart whipped around and faced Dustin.

His eyes widened and he gasped in fear, hoping Dart hadn't seen him. Like with Y/n, he waited a moment. There was no sign of movement and he stepped forward. Only to find Dart just outside the shed. He jumped back, his own back to the wall of the shed and he gripped the hockey stick closer to his chest.

Dustin could now hear the pitter-patter of Dart's small webbed feet and he knew it was now or never. It was his fault for bringing Dart into the house, and it was his fault for ignoring the other's logic and lying about Dart's whereabouts. And it was time to fix it. Taking several deep breaths, Dustin ripped open the shed door, startling Dart in the process and charged after his once pet.

Dart retreated frightfully, an image that instilled more guilt in Dustin's heart. Nevertheless, with a scream tearing from his throat, Dustin swung at the creature. He felt the hockey stick strike Dart and he went flying, miraculously Dart hit the open cellar door and tumbled inside.

He himself ran to the cellar, and just as he began closing the doors, an angry and betrayed Dart charged up the stairs after him. Feeling guilty, frightened and exhausted, Dustin collapsed on the closed cellar doors. He could feel his body jerk and move as Dart attempted to break the doors down but it was no use. Dustin was grateful he wearing leg padding, he could feel his shins digging into the steel edge of the cellar entrance.

"I'm sorry," he said, ignoring the chitters from the cellar. "But you ate my cat."

||Reader's POV||

My eyes scan the trees as I breeze down Mirkwood. I feel a chill run down my spine but I can't tell if it's from the cold autumn air or what's to come. I almost miss it, but I break on my bike quickly when I see a small figure standing amongst the trees. Its El. She's dressed in brown and grays and her dark hair blends in with the bark of the trees.

My bike makes an awful screech as the tires skid across the pavement and I cringe. So does El, I notice. She steps forward out of the trees and I dismount the bike, propping it up on its kickstand.

We meet in an embrace and I smile at the contact. She hugs me tightly and we separate.

"I'm so glad you're really here. I was worried I dreamt it all. How are you? Is everything okay?"

She nodded, and the smallest of excited smiles tugged at her lips.

"I found Mama."

"So you really did find your mom, huh?" I ask hopefully.

El's smile grew only slightly and she nodded once more.

"I also found something else."

I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"The 'Missing Experiment'."

A silence hung in the air and I gulped.

"Is that... ?" I felt the words die on my tongue and  I try again. "So, I really am...?"

El looked at me, sympathy in her eyes and she nodded again.

"Yes," she croaked.

I ran a hand down my face, not realizing I had teared up until I felt my hand grow wet. The small droplets on my palm magnified the harsh sting of the cold air and I wiped my hands on my pants, sniffling.

"I think," she continued. "Mama might be able to tell us more. Maybe."

"Well," I said, taking a breath to collect myself. "We better go then, huh?"

||3rd Person POV||

El nodded, and Y/n returned to her bike, El following noiselessly behind. Y/n perked up at the memory and she looked back to El, patting her bike.

"After I lost my bike in the chase last year, my mom got me a new one for Christmas! I have an extra seat, just like Mike's!"

El smiled and stepped forward, and Y/n turned her bike around so it was facing the road. She looked at El once more.

"So, where are we headed?"

"Five-On-Five, Larrabe"

"Um," Timid confusion crossed Y/n's features. "Do you by any chance know what part of town that is?"

El thought about it for a moment but shook her head. Y/n pressed her lips into a firm line as she thought about it aloud.

"Well, we could always ask for directions, I mean I would, so you could stay hidden. I think there's a-"

"Hitch-hike!" El said suddenly as the idea came to her.

"What?"

"Hitch-hike! Like TV,"

Y/n blinked several times, searching her brain for one of millions to begin as to why that was such a bad idea. All she could do was shake her head, sputtering.

"El, we can't-"

But El was too focused on her mission, and much to her delight - and Y/n's chagrin - she heard the deep rumbles of an engine growing louder. She walked past Y/n and stood on the edge of the concrete and stuck her thumb out.

"El, what are you doing? They'll see you, never mind that, do you know how dangerous that is for us?"

Her thumb still out, El turned to look at her friend, a confused look on her face.

"Why us?"

Once again, Y/n was at a loss for words. Without a response, she returned her attention back to the road, where a large truck came to slow. Y/n's heart began to pound faster and in a desperate attempt to save her friend and herself, she dropped her bike and stepped forward to stop El. But El was one step ahead and Y/n's eyes widened when she stopped abruptly, her feet rooted to the ground.

She looked to her feet in fear, and back to El, gaping.

"El! What the hell?" Y/n tried to remain calm, but it was a challenging feat seeing the truck grow closer, words tumbled out of her in a hurry. "El, I promise you we can find another way but this is not a good idea, trust me. He could hurt us,"

El turned back to look at Y/n and gave her an incredulous smile.

"Y/n," she eased. "We can defend ourselves, remember?"

Y/n felt the invisible hold on her legs release and she tied her best not to stumble forward in an awkward fashion. Before she could get another word in, the truck pulled to a stop in front of El and the passenger window rolled down. It was a man with a beard and trucker hat. He looked at the pair with genuine worry for them, which put Y/n's mind at ease in just the slightest.

"You ladies alright?"

El was quick to answer before Y/n could protest.

"We need a ride home. Five-one-five Larrabee"

The man seemed taken aback, and he gave a look around for any sign of the girls' parents.

"Well, uh, sure I guess. You guys a long way from home?"

El nodded and stepped forward. She felt a hand on her wrist and she looked to Y/n gave her one last pleading look.

El lowered her voice and spoke to her friend gently.

"It will be okay, we can protect ourselves. But I'm going Y/n, you can come if you want."

With that, she stepped forward and stood on the tips of her toes to open the passenger door. Y/n felt the surge of anxiety in her stomach, everything warning her against this. But El was getting into a big truck with a strange man, she knew she couldn't stop her, but she had to make sure she was okay. Y/n kicked herself for what she was about to do, never more angered by any decision she has ever made.

And against her better judgment, Y/n climbed into the truck after El.

+++

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#netflix stranger things #stranger things #will byers x reader #stranger things x reader #reader insert #stranger things rewrite #stranger things 2 #stranger things 2 rewrite #y/n henderson #el hopper #jane ives #dustin henderson #dig dug #dig dug pt. 2 #dig dug part 2 #mrs. henderson #claudia henderson #joyce byers #will byers #bob newby #jim hopper #mike wheeler #reader insert rewrite

[sun-spark]

One Last Night Before The End

One Last Night Before The End - Numb3rs Fic

Welp, y’all said you like Numb3rs, so have a new fic! Ao3

Title: One Last Night Before The End

Rating: Gen. Audiences

Pairing: David Sinclair/ Colby Granger

Characters: David Sinclair, Colby Granger. Mentioned: Don Eppes, Michael Kirkland, Dwayne Carter, The Team.

Warnings: None

Episode Spoilers: s03e24 The Janus List (Directly); s04e01 Trust Metric (Indirectly)

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Fluff, Angst, Asexual/Demisexual Colby Granger, Bisexual David Sinclair, Missing Scene,

Summary: Missing Scene: The Janus List - Colby knows his name is on that list, and he knows that Kirkland’s plan is for him to go to prison with Dwayne, and for all this to happen he has to lose his family and more importantly his partner. He knows what’s coming will break him, and David, so he asks Don to give them the night, makes up an excuse, and spends the last night they have savoring their time together, even if his partner doesn’t know it.(Emotional) Hurt/Comfort: Colby can’t keep his emotions in check, but he can’t tell David the truth. David comforts him anyway. Angst: You’ve seen the episode, yes?

Ao3 Link, Here , if you prefer.

Enjoy!

“Don.” The man in question looked up from the too bitter and just shy of cold coffee his was pouring at the sound of his name and saw Colby leaning in the room, hanging onto the doorframe. “What’s up Colby. When did you get back?”

Colby didn’t react to the second question, hiding the pang it sent through his chest. He’d just come from a discussion with Kirkland, but Don didn’t need to know that. “Little bit ago, the lead didn’t go anywhere. As to what’s up, not much, we don’t have anything new at the moment and we’re still waiting on some info to come in.” There was something off about him but Don couldn’t place it, so he set it aside to deal with later. “Alright, then what is it?” Colby shifted slightly and Don hid a grin with his drink. It was the same shift the man always made when he wanted to be frank but was trying not to come off as an ass challenging authority, it was an adjustment made to compensate for the years in the military. “Listen, man, David hasn’t slept in two days, and I haven’t either, can I please force him to go home and rest?”

He didn’t hide the grin this time. “Yeah alright, just make sure you two princesses are back here in the morning after your beauty rest.” Colby rolled his eyes at the teasing and nodded his thanks as he went.

David was at his desk in their shared cubicle and he looked up as Colby neared, he offered a greeting as he turned back to his files. “Hey Granger, we got anything new on the bugs yet?”

Colby ignored the painful clenching in his chest and shook his head with a neutral expression as he settled on the edge of his partner’s desk easily enough and to the observer, it seemed casual. “No, not yet. Listen, Don wants us to head home, get some rest, and come back in the morning.”

David absentmindedly offered an “Uh-huh.”, already shifting through the next layers of papers. “David, you hear me, man?” No visible response was offered, so he poked him in the shoulder. “Yeah, Granger, just let me finish going through these files, alright?” He looked at the stack and sighed internally. Judging by the size of it, David’s ‘look through’ would take at least another hour.

“David.” Something in Colby’s tone, something too low and too flat, made the man look up and he frowned at what he saw. Colby seemed normal enough to the world, but David knew him better. To his partner the man looked worn down to his limit, he was normally bright and chipper even in the most dire of circumstance, but right now his eyes were dim, betraying something emotionally wrong, enough so that David was concerned. He set the files aside and stood. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

It didn’t take them long to get back to David’s place, there hadn’t been any question that they would stay together tonight as they did most nights, and David’s was closer. Colby’s car pulled in just a moment after David’s jeep and the senior agent let out a deep breath and let his shoulders fall, finally feeling the weight of stress he’d been ignoring ever since Charlie faced off with a bomber and he and his partner had scaled a bridge to be face to face with said explosives.

Once they’d gotten inside they shed their outer layers – shoes by the door and jackets on the hook. Their keys were tossed on the side table with their phones. Suddenly feeling too closed in and wanting to have fewer restrictions David started undoing his tie, Colby, being the rebellious little twit he was, and hating them, rarely wore one. Gentle arms wrapped around David’s middle as Colby laid his head on his shoulder quietly, almost timidly. David responded by resting his head against Colby’s while he finished removing and folding his tie so he could set it down. “You alright Colb?” Task done, he turned in his partner’s arms and returned the embrace. “You’re oddly quiet, Mr.-always-has-a-snarky-comment.” Despite the teasing comment, David’s tone was quiet – They were both tired and he was genuinely concerned at how off his partner’s mood seemed. The so brief you could have missed it tightening of Colby’s arms around him almost desperately didn’t ease that concern at all, but Colby pulled away and offered a small smile. “Yeah, just not feeling great. Tired.”

David frowned but didn’t push the issue. Colby would talk to him when he was ready, or David would push him when there was a problem, but for now, neither of those moments had arrived. “Alright then.”

He stepped around Colby and headed for the kitchen, calling over his shoulder as he went: “Have you eaten yet?” He offered a sheepish grin around the kitchen archway’s frame before ducking duck around to make tea. “I kind of lost track of you for a few hours.”

Colby swallowed past the block in his throat and tried very, very hard not to break down right that moment. He couldn’t tell David where he had been for those hours, about his meeting with Kirkland, he couldn’t tell him those things any more than he could tell him about the past five years. Oh, how he wished he could.

“No. No, I haven’t.” He forced some form of his normal self to shine through, refusing to ruin what may well be the last night they had…even if David didn’t know it. So, with a small grin and a forced lightheadedness to his tone, he stepped into the kitchen and leaned against the counter by his partner. “And judging by that question, I’m guessing you spent most of the day working through the case. Did you even have lunch, David?”

The teasing in his tone came through and David rolled his eyes, pushing him playfully and too gently to be called a shove. “Yes Mom, I did.” Colby swayed with the nonexistent momentum of the nudge while chuckling, holding his hands up at his sides mockingly in surrender. “Alright, alright, no need to get violent!” David was suddenly in his space and Colby laughed in earnest as his partner mumbled “I’ll show you violent.” before proceeding to tickle his sides and lay a few dozen kisses along his jaw and neck.

Colby pushed at his shoulders without any real force but enough to be felt, play fighting with him and laughing as he arched his neck, notably in no way that made it harder for David to access. “Uncle! Uncle!” The hands at his sides stop their torment and laid flat, holding him gently as David’s head fell to his shoulder, the man’s frame shaking with quiet laughter. After a moment David raised his head and rested his forehead against Colby’s, the two pausing there with their eyes closed, enjoying the peace and each other while they caught their breath.

“D’you feel like cooking, or y’want to order something?” Colby hummed in response to the question murmured against his cheek, and shook his head ever so slightly as not to displace David. “Order something.” He answered quietly. David gave a small nod and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling back and turning away to grab their takeout menus by the microwave.

“The usual Chinese?”

Colby could have thrown up from the sudden sour twisting in his stomach, and he was glad his partner’s back was to him so the sick look on his face didn’t give him away. Swallowing heavily and willing the bile to go back down his esophagus, he took a deep breath and tried to maintain a steady tone as he choked out an answer. “Rather not.”

It must have sounded relatively normal to David because the man did not turn around with concern nor questions, merely shuffled through the small collection of pamphlets with an absentminded nod. “Alright. You don’t like Italian, so there’s Thai, Ethiopian, or the Greek place we haven’t tried?” He looked up at Colby questioningly and the man breathed a sigh of relief when nothing more than drawn brows followed, apparently, his inner turmoil wasn’t written across his face. “Thai?”

David nodded and set the other pamphlets down. “You want your usual Colb?” Colby nodded, the tension slowly running out of his shoulders at the normalcy. “Sounds good.” David nodded one last time and picked up the phone, gesturing to the hallway with it while he dialed. “Why don’t you go get changed while I order?”

Glad for the escape and the time to compose himself Colby nodded and pushed away from the counter, heading for the archway. David grabbed him gently as he went by with an arm around his waist and pulled him close, moving his arm up so he could cup the side of Colby’s head with his hand, pressing their temples together in a brief embrace before letting him go. Colby offered a small smile as he went, saying nothing as the phone rang.

He let the smile fall as he walked down the hallway to David’s, honestly their, bedroom, shutting the door behind him quietly. He stood there for a moment, slumped back against the door, and for a handful of seconds, allowed the turmoil in his chest to consume him. Grief, Pain, Nausea, Tears, Dread, Anger, Fear, Resentment, Sorrow, and Love so all-encompassing it hurt, it along with the crushing knowledge that he would soon lose that love.

It was only a matter of days, and he knew it. Kirkland had told him that the only conceivable plan that could work was if he was arrested and placed in prison with Dwayne for however long it took for Dwayne’s contacts to make plans to get them out. Hopefully - and damn it Colby was going to learn to hate that word – Hopefully, it didn’t take too long, maybe a few weeks or months. Months. In a prison. In a hellhole that would be worse than normal given his ‘past’ as a Fed. He could live with that, but he didn’t have to like it.

Five years. Five years he had been living through paranoia, threats, injuries, cutting contact with his family, and never-ending isolation just to get this scumbag: The Mole in the DOJ. He could appreciate the complexities of governments, and the reality that none of them were clean nor deserved real loyalty, but then again he wasn’t doing this out of loyalty to a government. No, he was doing this for two reasons: One – He owed a life debt to Dwayne Carter, and playing this game, giving him a chance at getting out alive and free, was the only way he could repay him. And two – The information the Mole was after would get people killed, dozens if not hundreds of innocent people, not just soldiers but also civilians, killed. That was why he was still going through with this, why he had been dreading something like this for five years.

He hated this, and he hated Dwayne for getting him into this. If he was truthful, he hated himself too, for what his actions, necessary or not, were going to do to the people he had come to love, his found family. He had asked Kirkland, begged him, to be allowed to tell just one of them, to tell his partner what was coming. He’d pleaded to be allowed to confide in the man, to give him the comfort he owed him for what was coming. Even if it was just to tell him something vague, not even the truth of the last five years, but anything at all to explain what was going to happen. But he couldn’t, and he’d known that already. Still, he’d had to try, to hope against hope that maybe the answer would be yes, because he knew that when the false information dropped it would tear his partner’s heart out and gut his family. He knew that beyond questioning the man he’d worked with as a partner for three years, David was going to question the person he’d lived with as his partner in home and heart, and Colby wasn’t going to be there to reassure him that that man was real, that that love and trust was real.

He wasn’t sure if he would be able to mend the damage, even if the lie was kept for only a week, and he knew it would be longer. If he backed out, he’d owe a life debt still, and hundreds of people could be killed because of his unwillingness to do this. It was too late anyway, his name was on that list and he knew it was only a matter of time until they found it.

He wanted to collapse and sob, or throw up so this feeling wasn’t contained to his stomach anymore, he wanted to scream in frustration and anger and helplessness, he wanted….he wanted to lie to himself and pretend this wasn’t happening because he knew he couldn’t stop it. But he’d be lucky if he got another night with his partner and lover, and he didn’t want to destroy what was likely the last they would have by failing to contain the turmoil inside himself. So, he pushed away from the door, gathered his pajamas, changed into them, folded his day clothes and placed them on the dresser, and valiantly ignored the clock ticking away the seconds of this night in the back of his mind.

He sat on the bed and scrubbed a hand over his face, attempting to wipe it, and any tears that may have escaped, away. He’d composed himself just in time too, as he heard the doorknob turn and looked up to see David stepping into the room with a gentle smile directed at him. “Hey.”

He grinned a bit crookedly back at him, “Hey yourself.”

David shook his head with a gentle snort and let the door fall shut behind him as he made his way towards the dresser. “Food’s ordered, should be about fifteen minutes if their track record holds. In the meantime, I’m going to get changed.”

“Okay.” He didn’t say more as he laid back on the bed and crossed an arm over his eyes, leaving the other thrown out to his side. He was sure most people would have watched, and most people would have been lucky to be allowed, but being Demi/Asexual as he was, that didn’t really do it for him. True his partner was beautiful, and normally Colby would gladly watch and appreciate that beauty, but tired and stressed as he was, he was content to simply bask in his partner’s presence.

He didn’t open his eyes, or rather peek one eye out from under his arm, until he felt David nudging him gently, standing between his knees. He peered up at him lazily and David grinned, holding out his hands for Colby to take, once he had his partner pulled him into a sitting position and settled his hands on his shoulders. It was a tad awkward on Colby’s neck to look up at the man, but they were far enough apart it didn’t hurt, so he settled there comfortably, loosely stringing his arms around David’s waist and humming happily when he felt a hand petting through his hair. “You’re a bit worn out Colby?”

He dropped his head forward onto the man’s stomach, mindful to be gentle and not to hurt his partner, and gave a small grunt in response. David didn’t push him and Colby took a moment to take a few deep, calming breaths before answering fully. “Yeah, I don’t feel great. I just want to eat, do nothing, and spend the night together.”

David bent over and he felt a firm kiss press against the top of his head, a gesture of comfort before he stood straight again. “Then that’s what we’ll do, okay? We’ll eat and then we’ll lay down.” He hummed and took a steadying breath before pulling back and peering up at his partner through slightly unfocused eyes. “Sounds good.”

It was at that moment that the doorbell rang and David treated him with a parting kiss to his forehead before going to answer it. Force of habit made him listen for any commotion or sounds of distress, but all he heard was the all too common sounds of their food being delivered and the small talk David was having with the person who brought it. He sighed quietly and pulled himself to his feet, determined to set it, all of it, as out of mind as he could and focus on his partner for the next few hours. Wandering into the kitchen he found said partner already splitting the food they ordered onto a pair of plates and grinned, rolling his eyes.

“You could have come get me to help.” He said it teasingly, already moving to grab a pair of cups and fill them with tea. David returned the grin over his shoulder, “Not a difficult job Colby.” Colby just shook his head, both of them knowing that wasn’t the point, and dropped a kiss on David’s shoulder with a quiet “Thank you.” as he carried the drinks towards the living room. He settled on the couch and David carried their plates in a moment later, setting them on the coffee table and setting himself next to Colby.

“Do you want to watch something?” Colby shrugged in response. “You choose.” David eyed him a bit oddly at the lack of banter over their shows and which ones were worth watching and which weren’t, but stood and walked over to the TV set without a word. Kindly, he chose something he knew they would both enjoy rather than one of his own favorites that Colby would not have. He sat back down and enjoyed the sight of Colby’s grin as the theme for the old Star Trek show started playing. Colby settled into his side and nudged his shoulder with his nose, a common affectionate gesture for him, gaze remaining on the old show. He grinned while he grabbed his plate, pulling his legs under himself and leaning into David’s side. “This has got to be one of the goofiest shows ever made.”

David smiled. “It is. But it is the reason we have Next Gen, Enterprise, and the reboots, among all the other series and movies.” He took a bite of his food. “Plus, it’s not that bad.” Colby snorted but didn’t comment.

Dinner took them about as long as the episode did, and by the time it had ended David was at least slightly confident that his partner was a bit happier, but even then he could still see the edges of something pulling at the man. He debated asking if he wanted to watch another show, but judging by the way Colby was pressing into his side while trying not to disrupt him, he figured it would be better to get them into bed. It wasn’t unusual for Colby to press close to David, in fact, he often deferred to physical affection before verbal as it came more naturally to him, but this was different. The force with which Colby was pressing into him, while not painful, was more than normal, he almost wanted to call it desperate when one took into account the way Colby was hugging himself and the general muted state he’d been in all evening. So, he set his cup down next to their stacked plates and turned towards his partner.

“Bed?”

Colby gave him a small, lazy smile. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

David nodded and leaned his head forward to nudge Colby’s nose with his own, eliciting the single soft, breath filled laugh he was hoping for. “Why don’t you go get settled? I’ll put the dishes in the sink and we can deal with them in the morning.”

Two lazy arms looped around his neck in a light hug as Colby dropped his head, nudging at David’s neck. “Okay.” Placing a light kiss there, he unwound himself as easily as he’d settled and disappeared into the bedroom. David followed him after cleaning up and checking the lock on the door, finding his partner sitting in bed and absently staring at the wall with an expression that seemed blank but betrayed something darker underneath. He stopped just before the bed, watching his partner his with concern.

“Colby? Are you alright?”

The blonde looked up at him with a furrowed brow and sad eyes. Quietly, almost sadly he answered: “I don’t want to lie to you David.”

David frowned, worry coloring his features. “Then don’t Baby.”

Colby’s eyes fell shut and a pained expression crossed his face. He ducked his head, swallowing hard against the pain lodged there. Finally, he settled on the most honest answer he could give, but nowhere near the answer he wanted to give. “No. I’m not alright, and I don’t think I’m going to be alright for a while.” Hazel eyes that shifted from honey brown to sea glass green met his own, betraying the weight of something David couldn’t name. “But I don’t want you to worry about me, and I don’t want to upset or hurt you.” He sighed, shoulder’s slumping as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose for a moment. Sensing he wasn’t finished, David didn’t say anything, and sure enough, those sea glass eyes met his own a second later. “I just want to lay in this bed, curled up with my partner, and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”

It didn’t negate his concern, but if holding his partner and comforting him would help whatever was going on in his head or out there in the world that David didn’t know about… “Okay.”

He kissed him as he climbed on the bed, settling on his side of their shared space on his back but still turned towards his partner. Colby followed him easily, turning with him and laying down next to him. David broke away long enough to pull the blankets up to their waists, laying back down and opening his arms to the other. He’d been right about the desperation behind Colby’s earlier pressing into his side, if the way Colby’s legs immediately tangled tightly with his own, his chest flush to David’s side, arms wrapped firmly around his stomach, and his head tucked close under David’s chin were anything to judge by.

David, his range of motion effectively limited, began rubbing soothing lines up and down Colby’s spine, carding his fingers through his hair with the other hand. He would have stayed there, unknowing of what was wrong but happy to provide comfort, but then he felt a warm dampness seeping through his thin T-shirt.

“Colby…?” He questioned softly, not wanting to jar the man. The answer was an immediate tensing of Colby’s arms and legs squeezing him gently but tightly while the man pressed into him with his whole body.

David’s stomach twisted a bit. It was highly unusual for Colby to cry, and David could count on less than two hands how many times he’d seen it. The man tended to grit his teeth and bury everything under a cloying layer of ‘what needs to be done, needs to be done and everything else doesn’t matter’, including the effect it had on him. That he was nearly silent and still even now when only a few moments worth of tears had soaked through David’s shirt to his skin was both telling and worrying.

He ran his fingers through Colby’s hair a few more times before gently cupping the side of his jaw and carefully urging him to look up. Colby’s head tilted up and their eyes met, David nearly winced. Though there were relatively few tears running down Colby’s face, his eyes were telling. They turned completely brown when he was angry, bright sea glass green when he was happy or excited, and every shade in between for every little event and emotion throughout the days. But most unfairly, they only turned to this particular shade, the shade of green found not in sea glass but in the deep waters and algae blooms, when sorrow had engulfed the man’s heart. It was a beautiful color, among the most entrancing Colby’s eyes would turn, mesmerizing and endless, but David’s heart hurt to see it.

He used his thumb to wipe away the tears on Colby’s cheek gently. “What is it, Baby?” He uttered softly, desperately wanting to know what was hurting his lover so he could help, or at least comfort him properly, but afraid of speaking too loudly or too harshly for fear of pushing him away.

Colby’s eyes fell shut as a few new tears fell. He shook his head slowly. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He whispered, more than loud enough to be heard. Swallowing past his tears he told the truth, this one that he could. “I can’t talk about it.” His voice choked off at the end and he dropped his forehead to David’s chest, rocking his head back and forth lightly.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to Colb.” David would have let it drop there and spent the remaining waking hours comforting the man, but his partner raised his head and met his eyes with an alarming level of intensity and gentleness that should not be mixing. Though it was little more than a whisper, quiet, slow and timid, the near panic lancing through it made David feel as if he had been punched in the gut. “I need you to know that I love you.”

They said it often enough in the privacy of their homes, away from prying eyes and listening ears, but this was not so much a declaration as it was a desperate plea to be heard. David just didn’t know why. He knew Colby loved him, surely Colby realized that?

Colby had laid further down the bed than David, the easier to wrap his entire body around his partner, but he wasn’t so far down that it was any great difficulty for David to bow his head and kiss him, gentle and just shy of desperate. He didn’t go far when he pulled away, merely enough to look at him. “I know, Colb. I’m not gonna forget that.”

A low, sad whine escaped from Colby’s throat and David pressed the hand resting in his hair against his scalp just a little more firmly, trying to ground him. Though he kept his tone gentle and his voice soft, he made sure the next words out of his mouth were firm. “I know you love me, Colby, I haven’t doubted that. And I love you too, Baby, that’s not going to change.”

A sad smile played over Colby’s features as his tear-filled eyes refused to meet David’s. “Maybe…” It was a whisper but David heard it. He sighed quietly and carded his hand through Colby’s hair a few times, he then hooked the side of his thumb under the man’s jaw and gently raised his head to face him before turning that hand to cup the man’s jaw and cheek. Colby shifted against him in response and raised the arm he’d had across David’s stomach to cup his hand around the back of his neck, fingers absentmindedly stroking the smooth dark skin there.

David offered him a smile and turned his head to press a light kiss to the wrist now hovering next to his jaw. The action earned him a small upturn at the corner of Colby’s mouth and that was good enough. He turned back to Colby and met his eyes, making sure he held his attention. “Whatever’s going on, we’ll get through it, Colby, I promise.”

The man gave him a sad, tearful, but genuine smile. “I hope so.”

They didn’t talk further on whatever it might be – David unknowing but only seeing his partner’s pain, and Colby knowing but unable to say anything and fearing the pain he was going to both cause and feel. Perhaps both feeling the inevitable coming, no matter their understanding of it or lack thereof, they stayed awake as long as they could, long past the faded twilight of L.A. and into the night hours. Colby, despite being Demi/Ace did enjoy his partner physically, but they weren’t in a particularly playful mood, and so did nothing particularly fun. Instead, they passed the time trading gentle kisses, affectionate caresses, and soft words of love and reassurance. David more than willing to provide comfort and affection to his partner, reassuring him that everything would be alright, and Colby returning that affection desperately and begging whatever beings resided in the heavens that those reassurance would be true.

Colby Granger was arrested the next day. And while he sat across from his former boss and friend and confessed a crime he didn’t really commit, he felt himself die inside. He couldn’t look David Sinclair in the eye as the man’s world shattered, nor could he stand up and gather him into his arms and promise him it would be okay, just like they said. He couldn’t let anyone see as his own heart shattered and stopped beating, and he wasn’t allowed to loose the scream of agony stuck in his throat or the let the tears pressing at his eyes fall – He could only sit there and play the part he was given. He watched helplessly as his family fell apart and lied, ironically for the first time in three years he really, truly lied.

He died sitting in that chair. Without a family waiting for him, a home to come back to, without his partner… what did he have? Nothing. He was once again just a soldier, doing his duty, damn the consequences for him.

He only hoped that at some point in the following weeks or months that his partner would see the truth in what he had told him their last night, and he would, sometimes, in the cramped darkness of his prison cell, allow himself to dream of being allowed to come home.

#numb3rs #colby granger/david sinclair #numb3rs fic #colby granger #david sinclair #angst/fluff #angst/comfort #hurt/comfrot #emotional hurt/comfort #ao3 #cross pollinated posting #the janus list

[mentalmimosa]

finding you there instead

Prompt: i ran away from home and knocked on the wrong door but you want to take me in anyway

“Tell me again where you’re from,” the man said, sitting back in his chair.

“Kansas.”

“Yeah, I got that. I meant, who are your people? And why in the hell have you run so far from them?” He tilts his head, this Mr. Wayne, and the gray in his hair tumbles into the light. “You do something wrong, kid?”

“Not...not wrong,” Clark stammered. “I mean, do you mean…? I haven’t killed anybody. Or robbed a bank or anything.”

Mr. Wayne laughed, a deep, dry sound like a match set to paper. “I didn’t think you had. You don’t exactly have the look of the jailbird about you.”

“I, er--? Oh.”

“No, you strike me as good, upstanding citizen, Kent: truth, justice, and apple pie and all that. And I can’t quite square that with you banging on a stranger’s door in the middle of the night and rousing the whole household.”

Clark’s face went rose again, the same color he’d been wearing since a butler had answered the door--an honest-to-god butler! Like something out of the pictures or something--and frowned with confusion at him when he’d asked for Mr. and Mrs. Lang. “I’m sorry, sir, again, in the rain...I guess I misread the numbers, or--I don’t know, I’ve never”--he felt a well of tears surge behind his eyes and good grief, that was the last thing he needed: to turn on the waterworks in front of this man who’d been kind enough so far not to boot him back out to the street. He looked down at his hands sodden in his lap and said: “I’ve never been to Gotham City before. Or, uh.” He swallows. “Anyplace bigger than Smallville, really.”

The ice chimed in Mr. Wayne’s glass. “Smallville? That’s in Kansas, I’m guessing.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tch. Don’t call me sir. I’m not your father, kid.” Another chuckle. “Or your drill sergeant. Mr. Wayne’ll do just fine for the short period of our acquaintance, hmmm?"

Fear in his heart now; he shuddered at the sound of the thunder and the fierce, driving rain. Mr. Wayne noticed.

“God, you are a mess, aren’t you? You’re dripping all over that rug. Alfred is gonna want to have words with you in the morning.”

“Alfred?”

“My butler. The man who let you in from the cold.” Mr. Wayne shook his head and set down his glass. “He with whom I need to have a serious talk tomorrow about his penchant for Little Orphan Annie.”

There was water in Clark’s socks, his underwear. Even his brain felt sodden. He swayed a little on his feet. When had been the last time he slept? It felt like he’d been running forever--his whole life, practically, but it had come to a head over the last few: Lex’s body under his in the dry grass at last, the thrill of it, the way Lex’s hands had combed through his hair as they made love, the claw marks he’d dug into Clark’s back. They’d been so careful, always, but somebody had seen them that day and someone had gotten word back to Clark’s father and they’d had it out in the barnyard, his dad pale-faced and horrified and Clark angrier than he’d thought possible; it felt like fire was coming out of his eyes. Of all the evil in the world, all the terrors recited on the radio of men marching in Europe and whole cities dying, his father thought that Clark would go to hell for this ? For loving a boy instead of a girl and not having the goddamn sense to be ashamed about it?

“You must have known it was wrong,” his father had said, his voice shaking in the sunlight. “I know you do. We’ve raised you better than this, Clark. The Good Book says--”

“The Good Book says that our highest calling is love.”

“Between a man and a woman, son! What there is between two men isn’t love, it’s--” Here his father had grimaced, as if the very thought of the words carried a bad taste. “It’s the basest kind of sin.”

“Then I guess I’m the basest sort of sinner! Is that what you want me to say, Dad?”

“No,” his father had said, very quietly. “I want you to apologize to your mother and promise never to see that Luthor boy again and then we can settle this matter, hmm? And move on.”

He’d met his father’s gaze and seen grief where he himself felt only fury. “I don’t have anything to apologize for. And you always said, Dad, never make promises you’re not willing to keep.”

His father had held his eyes for a long, awful moment, and then looked away. “You’re not a child anymore, Clark. I can only guide you, I realize that. I can’t tell you what to do.”

There’d been bile in his throat then. “But I’m not welcome here, is that it?”

“Never said that. Never even thought it. But this is my house, mine and your mother’s, and if you’re gonna choose to live your life like this, I don’t rightly know how good it would be for you to stay.” His father had shaken his head. The sag in his shoulders had broken Clark’s heart. “Still, this is your home, son. It always will be. Soon as you get yourself sorted out, there’ll always be a place for you here.”

And so he’d done the foolish thing, the impetuous one, and he’d run.

He’d packed his knapsack and stuffed Lana’s address in his pocket and headed for the road in the darkness, the crescent moon his only light.

Five days, he’d been moving, five days without good solid sleep, with only Automat food to live on, and he was tired, Clark Kent, good grief, was he--half asleep on his feet in Mr. Wayne’s fancy living room.

Then there was a hand on his face, cool and strong. “Hey, kid. You still with me?”

“No,” Clark said, honest, and Mr. Wayne laughed again, the whisper of his silk robe shaking.

“You know,” Mr. Wayne said, “I ran away from home when I was about your age, 17 or so.”

“I’m 18.”

“Ok, so, like I said. About.” His hand was still on Clark’s cheek. “Except unlike you, I ran all the way across the country. To California. The land of orange groves and an ocean bigger and bluer than ours.”

“Oh.”

“And do you know what I did out there, Kent, after a couple years of struggle? I made a goddamn fortune or two and kept enough of it in ‘29 to survive, and look at me now, huh, enough money to live on for lifetimes.” He sighed and Clark was close enough to feel it, the way that sound rippled through Mr. Wayne’s body, the sound it made in his broad, barrel chest. “So who knows, maybe that’s where you’ll be 20 years from now--here, I mean, with a nice house and a big door and some kid who comes knocking on it looking for a friend and finding you there instead. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll listen to your better angels for once in your life and not kick him out.”

Mr. Wayne’s eyes were dark now, shadowed by the fire, and looking up at them, into Mr. Wayne's sharp, handsome face, Clark felt something in him stir, something that seemed big and winged and wild that reminded him of Lex, of the sound of the wind in the tall grass, the smiling burn of the sun.

“What I’m saying,” Mr. Wayne continued, “is that you can stay here tonight. And after you get a solid eight and Alfred puts some breakfast in your belly, in the morning, I’ll help you find your friends. How does that sound?”

Clark’s fingers were balled into fists; he hadn’t realized it until right then. It felt as if he were fighting something bigger than himself, bolder, some fool instinct in him that for all his bedraggled was absolutely dying to touch. “Very generous. Very kind.”

Mr. Wayne smiled and ran a long thumb down his cheek. “I’m neither, kid, on the regular. But for you, tonight, I’ll make an exception, hmmm?"

#superbat #bruce wayne/clark kent #au 1930s #age difference #running away

[sickficksandmorr]

Can you please write something about Stan getting queasy? You can add Stan x Kyle or Wendy, any couple you like

Stan hadn't eaten much that day simply because he hadn't been hungry. Yet Kyle was worried."You really should eat more than that..." Kyle worried as he watched Stan poke at his lunch.Stan looked at Kyle and shoved a fry in his mouth."Yeah, like that." Kyle smiled."Why do you care if he eats or not? Are you gay for him?" Cartman asked in a teasing tone."He's my super best friend, of course I'm going to worry." Kyle frowned, sticking his tongue out at Cartman."That's such a stupid title. Just say boyfriends already." "You're stupid.""Your mom's stupid.""Don't talk shit about my mom, fat boy!" At some point during the argument, Stan got up and threw his tray away and had now returned to the table and put his head on the table, watching Kyle and Cartman bicker like an old married couple."I wanna go home..." Stan pouted out of the blue, stopping Kyle mid-bicker."Why? What's wrong?" Kyle worried, turning to face Stan.Stan shrugged. "Just don't feel good I guess."Kyle felt Stan's forehead. "Oh man... I can't tell if you're feverish or not..." He fretted."Don't worry about it, dude." Stan yawned."Do you want to go to the nurse?" "Not particularly.""Let's go to the nurse.""But I said-""You need to go to the nurse.""Okay, fine, mom." Kyle grabbed Stan's hand and dragged him away from the table only to be stopped at the door by Mr. Garrison."And where are you two going?" "Stan isn't feeling well so I'm taking him to the nurse." Kyle explained.Mr. Garrison looked at Stam, who was flusjed slightly, and nodded. "Alright. Feel better, Stan."Stan nodded and followed Kyle as they made their way down to the nurse's office."I'm cold..." Stan complained as they walked.Kyle let go of Stan's hand and felt his forehead."You feel a little warm to me." Kyle fretted."I'm fine.""How do you feel?""A little queasy but I'm fine." "Uh-huh, sure you are. C'mon."They walked briskly to the nurse's office, Stan being dragged by Kyle.Stan wanted to walk slow as to not irritate his troubled stomach any further, and Kyle wanted Stan to be helped as soon as humanly possible.They reached the nurse's office and Kyle knocked on the door."Come in!" The nurse called from behind the door.Kyle opened the door and guided Stan into the room."What seems to be the problem Stan and Kyle?" The nurse asked."Stan doesn't feel well." Kyle explained, still holding on to Stan's arm even though it was evident Stan could stand on his own.Stan waved."Thank you Kyle. What's wrong, Stan?" She forst addressed Kyle, then Stan.Stan shrugged. "I just feel queasy."The nurse grabbed a thermometer and placed a cover on it before turning it on. "I'm going to check your temperature, okay?"Stan nodded and opened his mouth, allowing the nurse to slide the thermometer in.She held it in place until it beeped then pulled it out, raising it to her face."100°F even. That's a really low-grade fever." She looked at Stan. "But it's a fever none the less. Why don't you lay down and I'll call your mom?""Okay." Stan looked at Kyle. "You can go back to lunch now."Kyle gave Stan a hard look before nodding and leaving slowly.Stan laid down on the cot in the room and closed his eyes as the nurse dialed his mom's number.He tried to focus on anything but the churning in the pit of his stomach, but his mind kept coming back to just that.He heaved and clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes flying open.The nurse happened to look over and quickly helped him sit up, placing a small trashcan in his lap.He gripped onto it with both hands and leaned over it as the nurse continued talking to his mother. She was probably telling her that he was throwing up or something.Speaking of throwing up, he heaved again, bringing up a small bit of bile that he spit into the can.The nurse got off the phone with his mom. "Your mom said she'll be here shortly." Stan nodded, swallowing thickly and compulsively as saliva flodded his mouth.Mid-swallow, he heaved, bringing up lunch.The nurse just let this happen, not offering any comfort.Kyle entered the nurse's office again. "Hey Stan I got your book- holy hell!" He rushed in and started rubbing Stan's back until he stopped throwing up. "Feel better?"Stan nodded. He did feel a bit better now."Good. Well I gotta get back to class. Get well!" Kyle dropped Stan's bookbag by the door before leaving again.

[creepynoodleheadcannons]

Creeps High School-8th period

Last one I think-check tags please

I practically threw my stuff down in the locker room, glancing at the uniform in front of me.

A sleeveless shirt and some worn shorts. Great.

I somehow managed to slide them on, walking into the gym.

The floor had a big CH in the center, where everyone was stretching. The girl with green hair was in the center, leading a bunch of stretches. I joined in, and about five minutes later, two guys walked in.

Holy shit.

One of them (the taller one) had his brown hair swept back from his face, revealing the many scars that lined his features. They all seemed healed, but they were nothing compared to the next guy. His t-shirt showed his toned biceps and forearms, scars to match.

But good god did this other guy look terrible.

He had two long scars on either side of his mouth, forming a smile. His black hair was pulled into a pony tail, his arms a bit less muscular than the other one. While the other guy had jeans on, he had sweats.

Tell me he wasn’t helping.

“Uh, which one of you is coach Woods?”

Everyone started laughing, my face turning bright red. “We both are.” The taller one had a smooth voice, practically luring me in. He gave me a soft smile. “You can call me Coach Liu.”

Nice guy.

“And I’m the brother. Older, no I’m not THAT short, shut up.” His voice had a much more angered tone, rough and scratchy. “Now everyone get on the sideline. We’re doing this thing called a gut check.”

Every single person groaned, except for the girl with green hair. She stood in the center, grinning.

I glanced at her arms, finally noticing it. She had tiny scars everywhere. Not even two inches long. Just small ones lining her biceps. Maybe a few underneath her jaw? I never realized it until just now.

And to be fair, I had been staring at lunch.

As we all ran to the line, the coach explained. “You do 20 push-ups, then sprint across the floor. Then do 20 jump squats, and sprint across. Then you do crunches, then up-downs, then wall touches. Each 20. We’ll stop when somebody pukes or the bell rings. Whichever comes first. The reps will go 20, 15, 10, then 5. Ready?”

NO I AM NOT READY!

“Go!”

I just got onto the floor, my arms shaking by the time I got to five. My muscles felt like they were on fire. And that green haired girl was already across the floor. The fuck?

“Nice job Yasmin. Everyone else, catch up!”

Yasmin…nice name. First day and she’s already showing everyone up. Great.

I finally made it to 20, running across. And let me just say, squats suck ass. Even more than the last thing. By now I was already out of breath, sweating, and ready to die. Coach Liu was encouraging everyone, while Woods was yelling. Fun mix.

Yasmin was already done with crunches by the time I ran over, throwing myself onto the floor.

That pit in my stomach came back at I looked up at coach Liu, who was in front of me. “You’re doing good, come on!” I then realized everyone was watching me.

“We’ll wait on her to catch up before we continue.” I was only on ten! Woods, what the hell! I heard giggling, laughing, sighing, and overall, clapping. They were cheering. Guess they really wanted to get done huh?

“If you aren’t done in the next ten seconds, we’re starting over-” “come on Jeff, it’s her first day here! Can’t you give her a break?” The taller one knocked his shoulder over, getting in his scarred face. “Liu, back up. Let me run this the way I normally do. 9…8…”

Ah shit.

I somehow managed to finish with one second to spare. And it was awful. I wanted to throw up so damn bad.

“Thank you. Now get on it! I won’t give you anymore chances today!”

I managed to stumble through the gut check, everyone else panting along with me. “Keep going! Like I said, until the bell rings or someone throws up-” “the bell rang five minutes ago coach.” Yasmin spoke up, her voice soft yet strained. “Oh. Well then we go until someone pukes. Get on it!”

It was me.

As I bent over the trash can, emptying my stomach of anything left, I felt a hand on my back. I glanced back at Yasmin, seeing her soft smile. There were two indentions in her lip. A piercing. “It’s okay, just breathe. You won’t die. Hasn’t happened yet.”

I heard the other girls cheering, thankful to be done, but all I could focus on was her eyes.

The same abnormal blue as Mr. Drew. I felt the pit in my stomach come back, then it went back up my throat in the form of bile.

After a minute, she helped me stand up, walking towards the circle in the middle.

“Nice job today ladies. You did a decent job, considering it’s your first day. Oh, I almost forgot. Let’s give Yasmin a round. Great to have you back in the program, back feeling better?” She nodded slowly, slapping her shoulder. “Good as new. I’m back to full workouts.” Everyone clapped, then he just dismissed us.

As I walked towards the locker room, that’s when I noticed it.

Coach Liu. He had these bright green eyes. They stood out more than they should have.

And Coach Woods. He skin…good god his skin looked like leather. And his eyes were strikingly blue.

What the fuck was with the eyes today?

I just sprinted into the locker room, peeling off my clothes.

Yasmin stopped me as I was walking out, heading outside. “Hey, good job today. You did amazing for your first day. I’m Yasmin by the way. Yasmin Vogel.” I nodded, avoiding her gaze. “I’m Alice Jane.” “Nice to meet you! I think I saw you in the band hall earlier. You’re the violinist, right?”

How did she…?

“Yeah. Well I’ve gotta go so-” “oh yeah, I’m sorry! I just got caught up. Sorry, have a nice day! See you tomorrow!”

She seemed so happy. Artificially happy.

This felt wrong. This school felt wrong. Today felt wrong. I felt wrong.

I walked straight outside, somehow making it to the bus in time.

If I survived today, I’ll be okay.

Maybe. Hopefully.

#guys ask me shit on this I love this au #school au #Jeff the killer #homicidal Liu #Alice is me in athletics #FORESHADOWING MUCH?!? #creepypasta #creepypasta au #marble hornets #marble hornets au

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

Can you write a riverdale sickfic where Archie wakes up with a really upset stomach and doesn't want to go to school but his dad doesn't believe him and makes him go anyway and Archie is having to throw up between blocks & eventually goes to the nurse to get to go home? Thanks!

(Hey anon! Thanks for the prompt! I love me some Fred interaction!! And I love me some shoehorning in Reggie!! Can you guys tell I love Reggie //whoops. Sorry this ones a little more on the ficlet side!! I’ve been writing lengthier, heavier fics so this one was a good refresher!!)

Fred had been pretty suspicious of Archie this morning for a multitude of reasons.

For one, Archie had been coming home extra late recently and had been sneaking out. When Fred came in to get Archie’s trash while he was at school he found unfinished homework, meaning he didn’t have his homework at school. Finally, he had bumped into Alice last night and said Betty was stressing over some Science test which Archie was definitely not studying for because he was playing his guitar.

So when Archie walked in the kitchen today telling him he didn’t want to go to school because he was sick, he didn’t believe him.

“Archie, I’m not having this anymore,” Fred said firmly.

“What, dad?! I don’t understand how you can’t see that I’m sick?” Archie asked, completely bewildered.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slacking off with your school work, leaving your homework—unfinished, mind you, coming home late and sneaking out, despite having to study for this huge test Alice told me you have..”

Archie looked furious and upset, “Fine! I’ll go dad. It’s good to see how much you know me.“

The red head grabbed his bag in anger and stormed out of the house, leaving Fred shocked.

"Archie!” Fred called, making his way to the door to see his son stomping away. He watched him leave, trying to ignore the doubt beginning to build in his stomach.

Archie couldn’t even make it three minutes without his stomach flipping out on him and beginning to heave. He rushed to the nearest bush and hurled, retching the contents of his stomach into the plant.

He felt awful. He felt awful because of how sick he felt, but also awful because his own father wouldn’t believe him. He felt awful because he was angry at himself, wishing he had just been more responsible this week so his father wouldn’t have doubted him.

Archie had been out with the Bulldogs last night for one of the member’s birthday, which was weird because they never spoke, and had been eating at a diner at the south side that he had never seen before.

Of course, Archie had no qualms against the south side, his best friend hailed from there. The south side got a bad rap, and while they did inexcusable things, so did the people at the north and the south always got the blame. He had been opening his eyes quite recently after uncovering the truth about Jason Blossom’s death.

However, his stomach did have qualms against the south side because apparently it did not like the food it digested the previous night. He had felt a little odd as he snuck back home, and went to bed, figuring that he was just stuffed.

Boy, was he wrong though. This morning he woke up, his stomach churning and whirling around. He felt like he was on a boat during a storm, rocking and hurling him around. He had managed to make it into the bathroom before heaving and retching last night’s dinner.

With a pounding headache, Archie went downstairs to his dad, feeling sick as a dog. When Archie was sick, he loved affection and attention, and to be doted on. Usually, it was given to him, so when Fred refused him it was a shock to his miserable system and he was furious.

As Archie finished, still feeling quite queasy and light-headed, he began to drag his zombie like body over to school. However, he barely made it to the next block before he felt liquid begin to rise up his throat and he was running over to another bush and retching yet again. He coughed and spluttered. He gagged at the disgusting, bitter taste left in his mouth and made a mental note of getting some gum and water from one of the vending machines.

This process of retching at each end of blocks kept repeating itself. He’d find himself about to enter a new one when his stomach churned and he’d be heaving, gagging and he’d hurl into a bush again. He quickly run out of things to throw up, and ended up vomiting bile. The process burned his throat.

Eventually, he made it to school and he forced his weak body into the school’s doors and into the hall.

As he made his sickly, ghost-like presence known to Riverdale High, he could see people’s reactions. He was met with looks of shock, surprise, concern, and he was just glad none of the looks belonged to any of his friends. Honestly, if they found him at this state and ask him what was wrong he’d start crying. Archie wasn’t one to conceal his emotions, and often confided in Jughead, who was always there for him no matter what, but he had a gut feeling he knew he wasn’t very rational and he’d just worry the kid unnecessarily.

Archie dragged himself to his locker, and struggled to get his combo due to a splitting headache and clammy hands. His stomach was flipping and he felt so queasy, trying to conceal his gags and tiny dry heaves. He fanned himself lightly, and wiped his clammy hands on his pants. Speaking of clammy, he was sweating immensely, like he had just gone to Football practice.

Speaking of Football practice, a loud voice filled with life and energy that Archie would kill for in his weak body rung out across the hall. The voice was crisp and clear amongst the hustle bustle and blurred chatter of the various students.

“Yo Andrews!” Reggie called, a wide, sparkling grin on his face.

Archie groaned softly to himself, not wanting to deal with this Star Boy’s snarky comments and attitude. In a way, Jughead was the same, but Archie never found Jughead something he didn’t want to deal with, and Archie began to wonder what the real difference was, and in his fevered mind he couldn’t find it.

As soon as Reggie was at the side of his locker, leaning against the locker next to him, seriously rattling it in the process, Archie gagged, dry heaving and clamping his hands around his mouth just in case anything came out of it.

Reggie’s egotistical and overly confident grin faded instantaneously, his features being taken over by worry and concern. Some sort of mental block in Reggie prevented him from being too soft, and honestly that would make Archie even more uncomfortable he would genuinely throw up.

“Woah, Andrews. I’m sure you don’t find me that gross?” Reggie commented, no actual trace of spite or meanness in his tone, his whole voice laced with worry.

Archie then took off, sprinting to the closest bathroom, unable to keep it in any longer. Each step he took caused his head to pound and throb, making him dizzy and even more queasy, threatening the sick to just burst out then and there.

Reggie had ran after him the second he took off, momentarily forgetting about this Cool Boy facade he had been putting on for the rest of the school. He had caught up no problem, seeing as Archie’s agility had been greatly compromised from this illness.

Archie burst into the thankfully empty bathroom and kicked open a stall, before retching into the toilet. Reggie stood a few feet behind him, trying not to be a dick and understand that Archie couldn’t help it, but it didn’t mean Reggie didn’t find it disgusting!

“Uh..you..okay, man?” He asked awkwardly. This was an awkward situation indeed; for one Archie was throwing up everywhere, he seriously was scared of vomit, and it was weird for both of them for Reggie to be showing his softer side.

Archie looked at him then jerked back to the toilet and continued to wretch. It was seriously hurting his throat, burning it raw and hurting his stomach. His muscles tensed and cramped uncomfortably and he put his hands to his stomach with the pain as he continued to heave and retch. He was absolutely miserable.

Reggie put his metal barriers aside, caring way more about Archie than any facade or fear he may have and approached the ginger and crouched down next to him, rubbing his back as he continued to throw up into the toilet. Once Archie was done, the bells rang.

“We’re going to be late,” Archie croaked weakly.

“Nope, I am. You’re not–you are going to the nurses and going home,” Reggie instructed firmly.

“C'mon,” Reggie coaxed gently, wrapping one strong arm around the redhead’s waist and helped him stand up. He supported him as they wobbled over to the Nurse’s office. Archie was too weak to argue and Reggie’s tone left no room for argument.

“You’re going to be late.”

“When am I not? Besides, this time, I’ll have a heroic excuse!”

“No! Reggie–..god..never mind, it’s fine, just..”

“..It’s because Jones is in my class and you don’t want me worrying him, huh?”

Archie was silent.

“It’s cool bro, don’t worry about it. But you know, he’s going to find out about it anyway, and he won’t be happy.”

Reggie didn’t press any further because by the look on Archie’s face he was content with that.

“Thanks for bringing him in, Mr Mantle,” the Nurse said politely, her face completely shifting as she met Archie’s eyes.

“And you shouldn’t have come in in the first place! Silly child!” She scolded lightly.“

"Get back to class, Mr Mantle,” The nurse commanded, before dialing for Fred and leaving to the side.

Archie managed a smile, “Reggie, thanks for this. I..it means a lot.”

Reggie managed a smile, different to his overly confident one, softer, genuine, “You ain’t heavy, Andrews.”

“Right back at ya, dude.”

He left, a smile on his face. The nurse returned shortly after, “Your dad will be here soon, Mr Andrews.”

Archie couldn’t help but roll his eyes a little, still very much annoyed with the events that played out earlier this morning.

Fred Andrews walked in about 10 minutes later, looking very flustered and concerned.

He nodded at something the nurse was saying and made his way over to the bed Archie was sitting at.

He looked genuinely so guilty and upset, “..Archie..”

Archie looked up at him and acknowledged his presence, arms still crossed and lowkey sulking. He got up and started walking with Fred out the door, an arm protectively clutching his stomach.

Fred looked so guilty he didn’t even know what to say, and stayed in an agonising silence as the two made their way over to the truck.

Archie climbed onto the truck and leaned his head against the window, his headache worsening.

“I should have believed you,” Fred said quietly.

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Archie spat out bitterly, not sure if he was genuinely that angry or if he was under the influence of his headache.

“I know. I’m not here to defend myself, I’m accepting I’m totally in the wrong and as your father..I should’ve noticed. You’re my son, Archie. I’m so sorry,” Fred apologised.

Archie didn’t reply.

Fred sighed, “I’m..really not good at this, huh? Maybe..”

Fred didn’t have to finish his sentence; Archie knew what he meant. He knew deep down his dad felt like Mary was a lot better at parenting, and that deep down he thought Archie was better off with her.

“Dad..” Archie finally replied, softer, he lifted himself off the window and shifted towards Fred’s shoulder, leaning against him. His father’s warmth was comforting and much better than any window.

Fred smiled softly, sparing a sneaky glance at his son, his gaze filled with love. He put his free hand on his shoulder, comfortingly rubbing it. They’d be home soon and he could make it up to him.

#archie andrews #fred andrews #reggie mantle #riverdale #sickfic #prompts #emeto tw #im awful at writing emeto whoops