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bang-to-the-tan · 4 years

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Vessel Euphoria Chapter 9 (Final)

► SciFi!AU

Thriller

Warnings: Description of Corpses, Major Character Death, Mind Control, Upsetting Themes Throughout, Alien Parasitism

↳ Summary: 6 months ago, the crew of the space vessel “Euphoria”—destined for a scientific study on a distant planet—dropped out of all communication. You and your fellow crewmates are inbound to reestablish communication with home base, but things are not as they seem and the fate of the mission is placed in grave danger.

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The base slides smoothly over the horizon like it’s being raised from the ground itself, pulled into existence past fields and fields of gently waving flowers. Your heart sinks when you quickly scan the surrounding area and spot no sign of Hoseok and Jimin still being here. On the one hand, that’s good. It means they haven’t broken down on the main path, nor have they been stranded at the primary base.

On the other hand...it doesn’t answer for where they are now.

You set your mouth in a straight line and soldier on, one hand tightening around the steering wheel and the other tapping out the controls on the dashboard to activate the garage door. As it slowly creaks open, you spare a glance at your compatriot.

He’s stock still. Frozen to his seat, eyes wide and unseeing. Not for the first time, you wonder what exactly he’s thinking about.

“Jeon.” You say after a beat. “I need you here. With me.”

He nods, stiff, but he doesn’t look at you.

It’s good enough. Par for the course. At least he isn’t screaming anymore.

You steer the vehicle inside, noticing at the last second that there are decapitated flowers clinging to the front—ones that had been climbing the door while it was stationary, and then snapped out of place when Jimin and Hoseok opened it. The thought gives you some strange comfort. You can retrace their steps on the way back. Everything’s going to be okay.

You pull the buggy into park, unbuckling and stepping out, followed shortly by Jungkook, whose every movement shakes.

He looks up, forward to the side entrance, and the heavy metal doors shut behind you with a loud groan, closing you out of the natural light of the two suns, bathing you instead in the bright, white industrial lighting of the garage.

Jungkook is already heading towards the door, keying in the code, and you have to skip to keep up as the door hisses open.

“Door 1C opening,” the overhead intones.

“I need you to stay with me,” you reiterate as the two of you step inside the decontamination bay.

“I am here,” he mumbles.

“Door 1C closing.”

“I mean, I need you to not run off.”

“Bay 1, beginning decontamination process.”

He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t flinch when the nozzles ahead start spraying the sanitizing fluid, casting the two of you in a momentary downpour.

“Jungook,” you say again. It takes some effort to coax your next words out, but you have to ask. You have to, even if he’s going to lie. “Is Namjoon alive?”

He takes a deep, shuddering breath that ripples through his body. When he turns to look at you, his expression past the rapidly drying sanitization liquid is pained.

“I don’t know.” He croaks. It sounds truthful. And you don’t know if that’s better or worse.

“Door 1B opening.”

Jungkook’s eyes flit from yours to behind you, widening, his lips parting as if in shock. Your heart plummets into your stomach. You whip around, hand poised to hit the emergency lockdown button on your right, thinking of Namjoon and Jimin and Hoseok and those damned flowers, scanning the bay behind you for any trace of movement, the rush of your blood loud in your ears. The area is empty. Out the window? The garage looks the same as how you’d left it. Empty.

Jungkook.

You spin back around, adrenaline suddenly kicking your legs into gear, but you’re too late, he’s slipping out the door, turning, you’re almost there, breath caught in your throat. His fist jolts out to slam into the button to the side of the door. You’re three steps away.

“Decontamination Process Manually Restarted”

Two steps away.

“Jungkook!” His name tears from your chest like a warcry.

One step.

The door slides shut in front of your face, just as you reach forward, and instead of his suit, your outstretched hand lands on solid metal. You look to him through the window, fire rushing through your veins, and though in some corner of your mind, you know it won’t give, you’re already pounding on the door with your fists. The lights overhead flicker, casting a strange pallor across his drawn face.

“I’m sorry.” His voice comes through the speaker in your suit, tinny and choked.

“Don’t—”

“I’m sorry.”

He turns, slow, keeping eye contact as long as he can. You surge forward, clawing at the window as if you could pry it open and clamber through it. Panic skitters through your fingers, up your arms, nesting at the base of your skull.

“Jungkook, don’t—!”

He finally spins on his heel, breaking first into a jog and then into a full sprint.

“Don’t leave me here!” It hurts, it hurts to scream like this, but it doesn’t make any difference. You catch a last glimpse of his form running through the entrance foyer, down the hallway, disappearing past a corner.

The nozzles above you turn back on, dosing you again with the sanitization, distorting your view of the room into rivulets and waves.

Fuck. Fuck.

“Namjoon,” you whisper at the door, slipping off it, searching for a button that would allow you to cancel the process. Anything to speed it up, anything to get you out of this room, give you time to catch up. You should have seen this coming. Why didn’t you see this coming? Hoseok was right. Jimin was right. Shit.

There’s nothing here that you can use. The button to your left is for communication. The panic switch beneath it is for the door behind you. You’re trapped. You rail against the door again, expletives leaving your lips as a colorful string of damnation and curses, punching, kicking, an outlet for every misgiving and anxious thought you’ve had since you boarded the Epiphany so many months ago. It all wrenches from you in a flurry of emotion, leaving you empty and cold, skin crawling.

The lights above turn back to their usual glaring white.

Your entire body stills, breath baited, listening for the overhead.

“Manual Decontamination Complete”

You can taste your heartbeat. Feel every muscle tensing like a racehorse at the gate. Your gaze is fixed on the corner where Jungkook had fled. You have one objective in mind. You’re going to catch him and you’re going to kick the shit out of him.

You should never have trusted him.

“Door 1B Opening”

You’re flying.

You throw yourself out into the foyer without even so much as a stumble, narrowly avoiding clipping yourself on the door as it slides open. Feet pounding the metal beneath you, thoughts racing, you’re already skirting down the hall, turning left violently, dashing towards the archway at the end. Do you remember the layout? The Euphoria’s base schematics are a little different from the ones you’ve seen before, but from what you can recall, you should have a straight shot at the communications tower.

Just hold on, Namjoon. You think as you clear the doorway, almost losing your footing on the smooth surface of the abandoned mess hall. The table you pass triggers a memory—the camera log. The birthday celebration. There are still dishes in the sink built into the cabinets lining the far wall. Your heart constricts but still you run like your life depends on it, already reaching the adjoining hall.

You pull up short, forced into a halt by the scene that grabs your attention out of the corner of your eye and knocks all remaining wind out of your lungs. Ahead is the pathway to the tower. To the left is the quarantine room. And from here, just past the window, you can see a figure slouched in front of the quarantine’s door. Your first thought is Jungkook, by the dark hair.

But you know that isn’t right.

Your feet move of their own accord, pulse deafening in your ears, skin prickling with cooled sweat. You can’t swallow past the lump forming in your throat as you inch closer to the body. Not for the first time, you’re grateful for the lack of smell inside the suit. It’s not Jungkook.

It’s Kim Seokjin. His rumpled jumpsuit partly unzipped at his collarbone. His lips parted, eyes glazed and unseeing. Bile rises in your throat and you have to look away.

There was a struggle. A desk and chairs, overturned, minor blood spatters dried onto the walls. A fight, ranging from the doorway, carried over to the quarantine door.

The handle, you realize with a sick feeling; the apparent source for the pool he’s sitting in.

His head must have been cracked against the handle with enough force to kill him. Was he...was he trying to get into quarantine? Was Jungkook trying to force him into quarantine?

You get your answer when you drift unwittingly closer, pulled by intuition.

Another figure, hidden at first by the short walls of the quarantine room. Curled up, head down, back against the other side of the door. If not for the greened, sickly pallor of his skin, you might think he was only resting. It has to be Taehyung.

“Everything’s fine, Taehyung! I need to talk to the captain!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“You didn’t give me a choice.”

This time, you have to physically turn away. The world tilts. The ill feeling you’ve been harboring threatens to rise and take you with it, and for a moment, you consider undoing your helmet just to vomit. The only thing that stops you is the thought of smelling the corpses. Instead, you force yourself to stagger out of the room, feeling for the walls of the hallway with one free hand and clutching the other to your chest, challenging yourself to remember your breathing exercises.

Inhale.

One, two, three, four.

You knew they were dead. Hoseok told you they were dead.

Hold the breath.

One, two, three—

It’s something else entirely to see it for yourself.

—four, five, six—

There’s nothing to be done now. They are dead. They aren’t coming back.

—seven.

Exhale.

Hot tears slink down your cheeks, blurring your vision, choking up your throat. It’s impossible to think straight. Impossible to concentrate. You try, anyway.

One, two, three—

Jin’s playful, easy-going nature. Taehyung’s extravagant sense of wonder. You almost knew them. Six months you listened to them live their lives and tell their stories. Is this heartbreak? Is it justified?

—four, five, six—

And what about your own crew? What happened? Hoseok and Jimin, missing. Jungkook, even, gone rogue. You’re alone.

—seven—

You aren’t. You’re not alone. Yoongi at least, is safe, locked inside the med bay.

—eight.

And Namjoon.

Namjoon.

You have to save Namjoon.

There’s no reason you can think of for Jungkook to chase a dead man.

Your feet are unsteady. The tilt of the world seems off, disallowing you your balance, making it all too easy to stumble, to miscalculate where next you’ll step. But you’re moving again. You push all thoughts of Jin and Taehyung to the side. You’ll mourn them later. Bury them later. You’ll do something sentimental, to honor their memory. You’ll tell Central Command. Let them notify the families. Maybe there will be rest for them in the end. Maybe you can rest, too.

You think of Namjoon instead. It’s such a faint glimmer of hope, but you grasp it and cradle it, and pray that it won’t shatter in your hands. You move forward again, picking up speed down the hall, focused on the door. What if he’s dead? Then it’s all for nothing. All of it.

But what if he needs you?

The thought kicks your body into gear before you have the chance to stop it and you’re running again, stumbling, tripping, reaching, scrambling for the handle and thrusting it down with all your might, unable to stop the buzzing in your temples, the shakiness of your limbs. The door gives too easily, swinging inwards with your force, and you almost fall flat on your face following it, swaying into the room drunkenly.

Somehow, you know that it’s empty before you even get a proper look at the place.

You fucked up.

In your mind, you can see the diagram. The layout of the base. You can see exactly how you got it wrong. How you reversed it in your head. This isn’t the communications tower. This is the med bay. Medical cots lay about the room, orderly in their lack of use. Surgical tools glinting in the faint light from the hallway. Shit. Shit.

Your hope dwindles, but as you turn on your heel, you hear a crackle. A series of beeps overhead, signalling the start of an intercom announcement. You freeze.

“This is Flight Officer Kim Namjoon, of the Vessel Euphoria.” Your heart leaps into your throat, and even though you know he can’t hear you, his name leaves you in a loud whoop. Adrenaline floods back into your body, urging you back out the door, ears peeled to listen, breath baited.

Maybe it’s a trick, you think wildly, suddenly paranoid. Maybe Jungkook is playing an old message through the speakers to confuse you. Even so, after six months, you know every half second of those tapes better than the back of your hand. The hesitation, the pauses. The way he takes a breath before he says his name. This is either a new one you haven’t heard, or possibly…it’s possible he’s okay. It’s possible he’s still safe, locked away in the tower. Your pace quickens.

“I am...making this announcement based on my best understanding. My best intuition. I—”

Something is wrong. He sounds...tired. He sounds...scared.

“The best decision I could think to make for the sake of my crew.”

You continue, steps slowing in your confusion and focus. You pass the quarantine room, refusing to look back through the window as you listen intently to every crackle and pop of the speakers.

“I’m so sorry. We failed. I—as an officer, as a leader. I have failed. I’m sorry.

Using the officer’s recall, I held back the logs of my crew members for months. This was a deliberate action taken on my part. I...I have reason to believe at least one of my crew is unwell. Beyond unwell.”

You halt in your tracks. Your heart is live in every strand of your veins, in your ears, thudding, deafening.

“I have reason to believe he is...sick. To the point of endangering himself. Endangering the mission. The rest of the crew.”

Namjoon takes a long, deep breath. When his voice comes back over the intercom, it’s shaky. You have never heard that in his tone before.

“I have reason to believe it’s infectious.”

The floor threatens to slip out from under your feet, leaving you teetering on the edge of space. Ahead, the ceiling spins, whirling, blurring, and you have to squint your eyes against the vivid motion of the universe as it folds in on itself around you. Your shoulder thuds into the wall, desperate for some support, even as you slide downwards.

“With that in mind, and considering the evidence I have collected over this time, I’ve made a decision.”

The lights above sink into a red glow that bathes you and the hallway around you in an ominous rose. No.

No, you know what that means. You’ve read all about the color codes for mission bases. Codes for emergency repair. Blue. Codes for emergency transmission from Central. Orange.

And red.

“No, Namjoon.” Someone is choking, sobbing, coming in through loud and clear in your helmet. It’s you. You hardly recognize yourself. Your voice sounds raw, painful. “Namjoon, don’t do this.”

You’re staggering back upright, peeling off the wall. Your body throws itself forward, past the mess hall again, lurching, careening for the hallway on the opposite. The red lights paint everything like some horror art film dousing the walls in blood.

“Namjoon, you can’t.”

You can’t let him send that code. You can’t let him finalize it. Your mind races. If you can reach him before the message is over, you can stop the relay. You can stop it from getting through to Central. There’s time. He’s making a mistake.

“I’m calling for a Code Stigma.”

“No. No, Namjoon, I’m here.”

“This is the hardest decision I’ve ever made. But it’s for the best. It’s for the best I can do. I’m sorry I can’t do more. I’m so sorry.”

“We’re already here.” You turn the corner. You can see it. The door is open. Jungkook. He must have made it inside. You can’t breathe, but you’re still moving, still arguing with the intercom between shaking, shuddering inhales. “Namjoon, we’re already here, you can’t do this.”

“Code Stigma.” He’s choked up, now, audibly trying not to cry himself as he continues with protocol.

“As marking a planet unfit and unsafe.”

“No, Namjoon!” You’re screaming, feet pounding the grates beneath.

“A mission given a Code Stigma will be discontinued.”

“We’re already here!” You reach the door.

“And given the nature of the declaration, there will be no return journey.”

“Namjoon, please!”

“And given the nature of the declaration, there will be no retrieval unit.”

“You can’t do this to us!”

Your knees buckle and you collapse into the communications room, tears flowing freely past your chin. The monitor ahead is filled with the bust of Kim Namjoon. Hair too long, pajamas too grubby. He’s been crying, too, eyes red and puffy, cheeks shining. In front of the screen, Jungkook stands, swaying, like he’s not far from falling to his own knees. His back is mostly to you, busy watching the video as tears stream silently down his own face, eyes flitting to and fro across his commander’s face.

“I’m so sorry.” Namjoon says again, sniffling. He tries to put on a brave face, but his expression crumples and he has to pause to drag his forearm under his nose. “I failed. I failed you. I failed....everyone. Things got out of hand. I still don’t know what happened. Something went wrong...”

“We’re already here,” you whisper, hoarse. “Namjoon, we’re already here.”

“It’s too dangerous. We can’t go home. I don’t know what this thing is, but I know it’s spreading. I don’t even know if I have it.”

Jungkook cranes to meet your eye, his face just as pained as yours.

“Don’t send anyone for us. For their sake. We’ll maintain logs, even decommissioned. We’ll keep researching, as long as we can.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook croaks. You stare at him, at how the light paints him blue across his face and red from the hallway in his hair.

“...Code Stigma,” you reply, breathless, scratched. You try to make him understand, he has to understand, he has to press the button, end the signal. “He’s calling for a Code Stigma. Jungkook.”

“I will process a full report soon after this sends, detailing my decision.”

“He did.”

“Jungkook. Jungkook, that’s a death sentence. That means we can’t go back. That means they won’t come for us. We—we—but we’re already here.” You can’t draw a proper breath through your throat. It comes out as a rasp. He can’t let it go through. All he has to do is press the button, just in front of him, to the right. He can fix this. “We’re already here.”

“You weren’t supposed to be. H-he never had the chance to send it.”

Again, you break, already knowing the answer before you ask the question, chest constricting painfully. “Why not?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better leader. Please learn from my mistakes.”

Jungkook’s gaze slides off you to a far corner of the room. You don’t want to follow it. But you do anyway. Another figure, hidden by the shadow of the door. Slouched against the wall, like the others. Another dried, congealed puddle beneath him. Something cylindrical rests in the pool next to him. It’s a fire extinguisher, you realize dimly. It’s covered in blood. In this light, it looks black. Empty, void. Like a hole in reality.

“And...please tell my mom...that I’ll be thinking of her. I’m sorry I couldn’t come home.”

A wail interrupts whatever it is that Namjoon says next, beginning as a high-pitched whistle and descending slowly into a bone-deep howl, driven from your chest and throat as it takes all of your hope with it, voicing every despair from the depths of your soul as you shriek, closing your eyes against the terrible sight, curling forward in your position on the floor, scrabbling at the grates beneath you like you could bury yourself under them. Dimly, you feel warmth appear at your shoulders. The feel of weight plopping onto the ground beside you. Body heat, encompassing your miserable form, another voice raised in anguish with yours. Your hands fight back, pushing, but it doesn’t move, and, still screaming, eventually, you give up.

Your communicator crackles. You’re scrambling for it before you’re even cognizant of the world around you. You must have blacked out at some point, because Namjoon’s voice has gone from the background, the screen blank but for [MESSAGE ENDED] and the lights in the hallway have returned to a bright, industrial white.

“Officer Jung, reporting. Specialist, do you copy?”

You thrash underneath Jungkook, scrambling for the device pinned to your side. He rolls off easily, hesitant, sinking back into a kneeling position beside you.

“Hoseok, Hoseok,” you chant, desperately, your voice little more than a dried-out whisper. It takes three tries for your fingers to steady enough to push the button on the side for a reply. “Hoseok, I’m here.” Even though your chest is a vice and your breath is coming in sobs, you have no tears left and can only heave labored noises in their place.

“Where are you?”

A deep gulp, a smack of your lips to try and make speaking less painful. It does little to help. “Primary. I took Jungkook to primary. I was looking for you.”

There’s a pause.

“I told you not to go there.” he says, low. “I gave you a direct order—”

“Hoseok,” you interrupt with a painful swallow and another breath. “Hoseok, he—Namjoon made a Code Stigma. Vessel Euphoria’s mission is a Code Stigma. Jungkook sent it out.”

“A Code Stigma.”

“We—”

“What were you doing out there?”

“J-Jungkook said,” you throw him a glance, but he’s not looking at you. He’s back to staring emptily at a space yards away, body sagging. “He said there were fuel cells out here. For the ship. I thought I could come collect them and find you on the way. What happened to you? Why were you gone so long—”

“We had an issue off the main road,” the answer is dismissive, more intent on grilling you, “He said there’s fuel cells out there?”

You frown. “W-where, what do you mean? Is Jimin okay?”

“You need to get the fuel cells and head back. That’s an order, Specialist.”

It takes a monumental effort, but you stagger up into a sitting position, beginning to breath hard, brows furrowed in confusion and an unsettling feeling of something not being right again coiling in your belly. “Hoseok, where’s Jimin?”

“He’s fine. We’ve spent enough time on this planet, we need to get into orbit.”

“But the code—”

“For the Vessel Euphoria’s mission. Not ours,” he says quickly, professional and heavy. “We’re going home.”

Even despite your misgivings, your heart soars and you lean to press your forehead against your communicator. Home. Going home. Leaving this nightmare behind. Yes. You’d like to go home. With your crew. Out of here, away from this decay and death and misery. The in-office therapist is going to have a field day with all of you, you think with a half-crazed, wry chuckle. But it’ll be worth it.

Home.

“You also need to let Specialist Min out of the med bay. What the fuck were you thinking, locking him up in there?”

Another pause.

“He...I left him the code,” you reply, hesitating. “Did he not see the note?”

“Specialist,” Officer Jung snaps. “I don’t want an answer. It was rhetorical. I’m giving you another direct order. Get those cells and come back. I am in no mood.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Signing off.”

“Jungkook,” you heave. You sniffle, blinking rapidly to clear your vision, straightening. “Jungkook, we’re gonna go home. Did you hear that? It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

He shakes his head. Your stomach contracts.

“Wh—where, Jungkook,” you shuffle forward, catching his attention. His eyes flit to yours, and there’s regret there that you immediately don’t like. “Jungkook, where are the fuel cells? We need cells for the ship and fuel for the buggy.”

He shakes his head again, mute. Frustration mounts inside of you and its all you can do to stop yourself from attacking him.

“Jungkook. Look,” you try a different approach, “Look, if you help me, if you help us, we can take you with us. We can take you with us, back home. You can get the help you need. We can leave this all behind us. Whatever happened here—we can get you help.”

“No.” he interrupts. “No, we can’t.”

“Yes, we can. We have to.” Panic is threatening to climb up your throat and throttle you. You reach for his hands, which he allows limply. You try again to be understanding, calm, but there is so little of you left. Your thumb rubs circles into his knuckles, more of a nervous twitch than a soothing motion. “Just tell me where—”

“Flamethrower.”

“What?” your voice is a whisper.

“The fuel. I took the scorcher and made a flamethrower. It’s gone.”

The path. The path burnt up to secondary. That’s how he got up there through the flowers.

You shake your head furiously. “No. No, Jungkook, no, it’s, you said—”

“I lied.” He drops his neck to look at you head on now, expression contorting in pain. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I lied. I had to.”

“No. No.” He’s wrong. He’s wrong.

“I had to come back out here. I had to. Once I realized you didn’t know. He—he didn’t get to send the message. We can’t leave. We have to stay.”

“No, no, no, no.” You’re pushing his hands away, suddenly incapable of being around him, touching him, looking at him, but he follows your movements even as you scoot and try to stand, his hand still outstretched, now pleading.

“We can’t. We can’t, listen to me.”

“No, no, no, Jungkook, no,” you wail, staggering to your feet, throwing yourself against the communication dashboard for support, clutching the keys beneath your fingers for any grip you can get, even as reality slips from under you.

“Listen, of course it wants to go home. Of course it wants to go home,” he continues, standing with you, stumbling too close, too close, trying to placate, make you understand. You understand. You understand perfectly.

“I’m not sick, Jungkook,” you spit, hiccuping. “I want—I want to go home!”

“I know you do! I do too. And so does it. And that’s why we can’t go. What happens if it gets on Earth? Please.” He’s sobbing again, reaching for your hand again. Your world spins, tilting sickeningly beneath your feet. The fuel cells are gone. It was a lie. You listened, he tricked you, and now, now….

“Nobody’s coming for us, Jungkook.” You don’t know if you’re even speaking aloud at this point. “We can’t...we have to go home…”

He’s pulling you into an embrace again, and you go limp in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he cries openly into your shoulder. You don’t even have the strength to push him away.

Previous Masterlist

#bts sci fi au #bts thriller #bts fanfic #vessel euphoria

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creative-frequency · 4 years

Text

Cal Kestis x Reader: DEAR STAR SYSTEM Ch. 05

Word count: 2331 Pairing: Cal Kestis x Female Reader Summary/Contains: Flashbacks & getting handsy after Kashyyyk. Partial canon-rewrite. Two idiots being dumb in the company of each other. Someone just kick their asses already.

Previous Chapter

My Writing Masterlist

DEAR STAR SYSTEM // 05

“What did you say we’re doing here again, Cere? On this… Bogano?”

You peer outside the Mantis’ windows at the grass and sunshine outside. The planet doesn’t seem to have much in terms of infrastructure; just a few well-established huts getting bleached in the sun. It looks like a planet with nothing in the middle of nowhere but Cere always has her reasons.

The new addition to your group and the one you have to thank for the luxuries of traveling in relative solitude turns in the pilot’s chair and flashes a cheesy grin. He is the first Latero you’ve ever met face to face and he seems okay.

“It’s best if you both sit down.” Cere motions towards the dining table and you trade equally baffled looks with Greez the pilot.

“Did something happen?” you ask carefully and pull a chair back.

“Uh. No.” Cere struggles to find the words. Her elbows lay on the table, fingertips occasionally touching, about to intertwine and then retreat. “No. Not recently, if that’s what you mean.”

She clears her throat and you and Greez strain your hearing, gently motioning her to continue.

“I have a plan.” Cere’s serious look sails from you to the new pilot. “And you probably won’t like it.”

“Oh?” you say, surprised but pleased. “What for?”

“Hang on. Is this something I really need to hear? ‘Cause I kind of thought the less I know…” Greez interrupts by waving one of his four hands.

Cere huffs. “I’ll tell you as little as you need to go with, Captain.”

“Alright. Good, good,” Greez approves and eases back into the chair.

You bite your lip, sternly watching every micro-expression going through Cere’s features. She’s not one to share anything more than you absolutely need to know. It’s frustrating, but you’ve learned to trust her. You just wish she would trust you.

Cere takes in a deep breath and says: “We are going to find a Jedi.”

You survived Kashyyyk, all according to the plan and with minimal injuries, even. The mood aboard the Mantis is relieved but also dejected since you couldn’t find the Wookiee chieftain. Cal is certain that Mari Kosan and Choyyssyk will come through and find Tarfful.

The crew agrees to have a breather before the next destination: another tomb on Zeffo. When you were returning from the refinery, Cere picked up an Imperial transmission, hinting that the bad guys are close to finding another tomb on Zeffo. While Greez isn’t happy about it, Cal stays true to his character, ever the optimist. The Imperials are offering the next step of Cordova’s path on a silver platter.

There’s also the fact that the only other clue leads to Dathomir and no one wants to go there unless it’s the only option left.

But first, you have to lick your minor wounds from Kashyyyk and relax. Cal has been resting in one of the cabins and he missed the delicious dinner Greez whipped up. Out of the goodness of your heart and concern, you decide to bring the Jedi something to eat.

Heart beating suspiciously fast, you rap your knuckles on the metal plating. “Cal? I’m coming in.”

You press the door open while balancing the tray on one hand.

Cal sits on the bed, just caught in the middle of a stretch, arms in the air and hair ruffled. He bends his neck to both sides and settles on looking at you attentively. There’s a cooler patch next to him and an opened pack of bacta gel strips.

“What’s that?” Your brows furrow and Cal turns into the paragon of innocence. BD-1 twirls approvingly at you for arriving just in time.

You place the tray on the small stand next to the bed and plant your hands on your hips. “And where are you hurt?”

“I’m not… hurt.” Cal grimaces like child caught red-handed at the cookie jar. At least he is not visibly bleeding.

“Really?” you ask slowly, eyes narrowing.

BD-1 wastes no time in jumping onto Cal and kicking his left shoulder blade. “Bop!”

“OW! Hey!” Cal chases the droid away and hunches forward, failing miserably at hiding the pain.

“Let me see,” you say in the most commanding tone you’re able to muster. BD hides behind you, chirping in agreement.

Cal hesitates. His ears feel hot. He can think of a thousand excuses but knows that he really has no choice but to obey.

“C’mon. Off with the poncho. The shirt’s gotta go too,” you add when he begrudgingly begins undressing.

The initial thought at seeing Cal’s bare, bruised chest is definitely not oh no he’s hurt. BD showers the blue scanning light on Cal’s injuries and you’re so glad you’re allowed to stare because it would be hard not to.

You’ve seen shirtless, extremely fit men before too, but this is Cal kriffing Kestis, the sweet, kind Jedi and you gave him no permission to look so… preposterously hot. Sternly reminding yourself now is not the time for wanting to lick his pecks doesn’t really help and before long you feel the heat on your cheeks mirroring his. Why did you want him to undress again?

“Your back is hurt, right? Turn around,” you hear someone say in your voice and BD twitters again in agreement. It’s easier to breathe when the risk of meeting Cal’s gaze is minimized as he faces the wall.

Considering the amount of fighting he had to do on Kashyyyk, you’re surprised that he isn’t in in worse shape. Some smaller bruises have turned towards a shade of violet, but unlike on the other side, there are no larger ones. You frown as you think someone probably kicked him in the chest.

You carefully sit down by the bedside. “Left side?” you utter as a warning that you’re about to touch him.

Cal nods but still slightly lurches forward under your fingertips. “Y-yeah, I think that happened when the Purge trooper knocked me down…”

You sigh heavily but abstain from commentary. You gently feel out the area BD kicked to check that nothing is dislocated or torn. Because Cal is turned to face the wall, you can’t see the ravaging blush that expands out to the tip of his ears. His skin feels hot and his muscles tense. The bacta gel might help with the pain but there are more traditional ways to ease his suffering too. Ways in which you pride yourself to be an expert.

“Lie down,” you urge him softly.

Cal gives you a hesitant look over his shoulder, eyes wide like a porg’s, but swallows his protests. He lies down onto his stomach and you inch closer, leaning over his back. He has trouble finding a place for his arms and head, partly wanting to look bashfully away and partly wanting to seek eye contact because the situation feels new and intimate. You have to resist the itch to tease the poor guy because settling astride on his back definitely crosses your dirty mind.

“What’re you doing?” Cal asks in a raspy tone.

Seeing his reddened cheeks is thrilling and brings out the worst, sadistic parts of you in the form of a crooked smile. He can be so innocent.

“Sorry, my hands might be a little cold…” You place both palms on Cal’s back and gently begin massaging the largest muscles. He needs a moment to adjust to even start thinking about relaxing.

“It’s okay… Do you think I need a stim?” he asks nervously. You shift closer to reach better so that your bodies are touching.

“Well, I don’t think anything’s broken but you’re stiff like a protocol droid,” you say and try to steer clear of any seduction in your tone.

You press your thumb under Cal’s left shoulder blade and feel him go rigid.

“Relax,” you murmur.

You’re a slight too gentle in the motions but deem it best for both of you to hold back. The silence starts growing heavier, especially since Cal can’t help the low grunts and huffs in sync with your hands. The sounds he makes involuntarily are making you quiver despite how much you try not to hear them. Your hands are moving on their own and you wish you would have to focus more on what you’re doing instead of what he is doing.

“What was it like on Bracca?” you ask quietly to fill the silence.

Cal hums to have more time to think. Looking back at that chapter of his life hurts but there are also good moments, happy moments. However, he isn’t ready to open those memories yet. The pain of loss and trauma weighs too heavy.

You’re about to pull the question back just when he starts talking.

“It was survival. Every day,” Cal says.

You wait for him to continue while trying to soften another knot in his back.

“I kept telling myself: Whatever you do, don’t reach within. Trust no one,” he recites like a mantra. The tone is lighthearted, conversing one, but you can feel the underlying hurt.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you hum. BD-1 makes a sad noise.

“What about you? What did you do before this?” Cal asks and waves his wrist nonchalantly.

You pause your motions to take a deep breath. There’s no sense in trying to hide what you were since it’s only a matter of time when Cal either guesses or goes to Cere.

“This won’t improve your opinion of me,” you say quietly and continue onto massaging his shoulders.

“What do you mean?” Cal asks, confused and alarmed.

You swallow. “I was in this clan… or rather, a crime syndicate. The Kalari.”

Cal jolts.

“They took me in when I was still a child, to train me. It’s really common among the clans. The best way to mold the most loyal soldiers.” You need a moment to figure out how to form the thought. “I killed my first mark when I was sixteen.”

“First mark… So wait, you were an assassin?” Cal yelps.

So much suddenly starts making sense to him that you can practically see the gears turning in his head. You put more effort into the motions of your hands to avoid replying. Cal tries to squirm in order to turn to look at you.

“Stay still. Yes and I’m not proud of that,” you whip out the commanding tone and he settles.

“Thank you for telling me.” He sounds somber.

“Yeah, well. That’s about it on my past,” you say after a few moments of silence and stop trying to move your palms over Cal’s skin. “I… I hope you won’t think worse of me now that you know.”

“I could never think badly about you.” He doesn’t even hesitate putting the words out there and you feel ridiculously relieved.

You realize it’s the first time you’ve ever told anyone what you just told him – voluntarily and hoping it won’t affect your relationship.

Cal turns slightly around to see are you finished with the massage and when you don’t react, he sits up and pulls his legs closer to him.

“Thanks, Cal,” you say quietly and muster a smile to which he responds with his own. Your pulse has been miraculously steady so far despite the situation, but when Cal smiles so genuinely, you’re having difficulties at remembering your own name. He holds your gaze and you quickly lose the reason to be glad about your normal heart rate and non-shaking hands.

“Our pasts don’t define us. I’ve learned that… and I’m glad you’re here,” he says softly.

The smile on his lips is so calm and inviting and you just wish you could possess a fraction of that serenity and confidence. Why isn’t he affected by the tender feeling in your stomach like you are? Does nothing move this guy beyond the blush when you tease him? Is it a Jedi thing or just Cal’s character? The moment things take a turn to heartfelt and genuine, you’re thrown into the deep end of the pool only to find out someone changed the rules on how to swim. Maybe you’re overthinking whatever is going on between you.

You see how your hand rests on the covers and how Cal glances at it, starts moving and you already feel his fingers ghosting over yours. You can’t take it anymore. Snatching the hand back, you dart up as from a whiplash. Your heart is again running a mile a minute and you think you’re going to faint any moment now. This is exactly the kind of heady you can’t handle. Too sweet.

If you let the stupid, attractive Jedi take your hand one more goddamn time, you won’t be able to face the consequences.

You grab Cal’s shirt and throw it at his face. He catches it with ease but has to lean to the side to hold the line of sight to your face.

“You can dress now!” you yelp, turn on your feet and narrowly avoid tripping on a tool box on the floor.

“Huh? Where are you going?” Cal questions, dumbfound by your sudden change in demeanor.

“Bop bop?” BD chirps in tandem with his surprise.

“Uhh.” You try to think fast. “To… get you some more food.”

The door opens so slowly that you count seconds until you’re out of the cabin.

“Bo-boop.” BD-1 tilts his head after you.

“What do you mean I need it,” Cal huffs in annoyance and pulls the shirt back on.

His whole body feels hot in an uncomfortable and unfamiliar way. The soft marks your fingers left on his back are burning and the more he thinks about it, the hotter he feels. For the life of him, he can’t understand what he said or did to make you run like that but forbidden disappointment nags his insides. Getting carried away in your company is dangerously easy and Cal quietly decides he needs to do better.

Next Chapter - Coming Soon™!

Tagging: @sherniwrites @lucianhuntress @singlebecauseofthechocobros @sevansheart @owlwritesagain @stellar-trinity @bd1babey @winchestergirl907 @thuutthuutbilly @rilakkyungsoo @lizbid33 @twistnet @fangirl-inthe-us @campmccarran @grandadmiral @droidrights @maulblr @la-vide @dej-okay @annoyedguildmaster @xncasii @sparrows-books @calx-kestis @messrrs-prongs

#cal kestis #swjfo fanfiction #cal kestis x reader #jedi fallen order #swjfo #star wars #cere junda #greez dritus #bd-1 #my writings #dear star system

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imaginepirates · 5 years

Text

Mini Series

A Duel

Alright, people. First off: a huge thanks to anyone who read this stuff. I’m happy to see that even a small amount of people appreciated it. It’s the last chapter! Hope you guys enjoyed! @chiminie-pabo

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

You were confused. James or Jack? It was the one question going through your mind. You liked the intoxicating feeling Jack gave you, but you appreciated the domestic things you and James did just as much. James or Jack? It gave you a headache.

It was true that James hadn’t kissed you like Jack had, but you had no doubt that he had the same feelings for you. He just wasn’t as good at showing them. You figured James was the kind of person who would consider your personal space, and try to make his feelings clear in a way that didn’t feel intrusive. It was thoughtful of him.

Thinking about both men gave you a headache. You liked them both very much, if you were to tell the truth. Life was certainly different with them around. For the first time, you really felt like you had friends. You didn’t want to ruin those relationships, but you wouldn’t mind being more than friends with either of them. But to choose between them…

The bar opened, which you were thankful for. It gave you a bit of a distraction. Still, every time James brushed into you while helping out, you couldn’t suppress the shock you felt upon contact.

He had healed up to the point where he could leave the bar without any worry, but he’d preferred to stick around. You appreciated the gesture. The morning was busy, so having a helping hand was wonderful. You were on your feet the whole time, and James had it no better. You figured that a few ships had come in on the morning tide.

By afternoon, business died down, and James took his leave. You vaguely wondered when he would leave for good. He had to return to his home at some point. The navy likely wouldn’t keep him away long, especially if he was a captain. You didn’t like the thought of his leaving.

It was another factor you’d taken into account. James would leave, and Jack would stay. Whenever Jack left to do what he might, he always had the option of returning. He wasn’t part of high society, and neither were you. You might not even see James again. The thought was depressing.

Jack swaggered up to the bar, having come through the back door. The sight of him was bittersweet. Thankfully, he acted like he always had before, like nothing had changed from the beginning. Like the kiss had never happened. In truth, you were glad, partly because you didn’t want your customers to see the change in your relationship, and partly because you didn’t want to think about it. Mostly because you didn’t want to think about it.

He was in a good mood. It made you happy to have him around. Between serving drinks and talking to him, your attention was pretty divided.

“How’ve you been these past few days?” You asked. “I haven’t seen you much.”

“I’ve been as usual. Drunk and looking for a good ship.” He leaned in close to your ear. “But I’m much better now that I’ve seen you.” He winked as he pulled away.

You smiled despite yourself. You set some drinks down on the table in front of you, and there was a small clicking noise.

You turned. There, standing with all the authority you expected that he possessed, was James. He held a pistol point blank at Jack, who raised his hands in defeat.

“You think I hand’t figured out how you evaded me? If it hadn’t been for the blasted gunshot wound, you would’ve been dead already.”

“Ah.” Jack stared down the barrel. “What do you say to a proper duel? A real fight. I can tell you’re itching for one, mate.”

“I don’t have a habit of making deals with pirates.” James’ sneer looked more like a grimace, and it might have had something to do with the way he avoided eye contact with you.

Jack noticed. “It’ll be a good show for the lady. I don’t think she fancies seeing my brains blown out across her apron.”

You shook your head.

“Keep her out of this, Sparrow.” James’ voice sounded a bit tight.

Jack’s eyes flecked back and forth between you and James. “You do want to impress her. Let’s see what she would favor. A fair fight, or should good old Norri kill me right here?”

They both stared at you.

“I don’t want to clean up blood tonight. Have a proper fight, and the winner should take their due outside. I don’t want to see it.” You tried to sound as indifferent as possible, but it wasn’t working.

“Alright then. What do you say, Mr. Norrington?” Jack smirked.

James, still looking at you, uncooked his pistol and put it away. His gaze dropped to the floor.

The two men took up fighting positions, space having been cleared by customers. People wanted to watch. They stood a good twenty paces apart and turned, lowering their swords into a ready position. James assumed a defensive stance, and Jack initiated a series of thrusts that James had little trouble blocking. Feinting to the left, James took the opportunity to whip his blade to the opposite side, nearly catching Jack on the cheek.

Not to be outdone, Jack changed the footwork pattern. They danced in a circle, trying to avoid jabs. Jack lunged out twice, and with great force, because James had a hard time deflecting the blows. Jack was much stronger than you had originally thought. It was a wiry type of strength, and combined with his quick pace, it put James on his guard.

They couldn’t seem to find weak points in each other’s defenses. James tried to jab low and pull his blade up at the last second, but Jack managed to duck left and let the blade pass over his shoulder. Jack, taking advantage of the situation, stabbed out towards James’ abdomen, but James sidestepped the blow, bringing his sword down at lightning speed and stepped back into position.

In a series of jabs, Jack passed his sword directly under James’, and the point rested lightly against James’ stomach. At the same time, the tip of James’ sword came to rest on Jack’s neck at the collarbone. They looked at each other with a mixture of disappointment and pride.

“A tie,” James said bitterly.

Jack shrugged lightly, but didn’t take his sword away from its place at James’ stomach. He turned to you. “What do you say? Do we leave it be, or do we take turns stabbing each other in the street?”

The image that came to mind was morbidly amusing. “I thought that was your choice. Or are you both so smitten with me that you’ll let me decide.”

Jack winced, and you thought that it was quite possible that all the blood in James’ body rushed to his face.

“That’s a bold claim to make.” Jack had quickly recovered back to himself.

“That doesn’t make it any less true.” The men shifted uncomfortably. “I’d rather you both live. There would be no point in killing off my two biggest admirers.”

The bar was set into an uproar. Somebody shouted something about bets on who would have you as their prize, and wagers started. If pirates liked anything, it was a gamble.

“I think I’d like to take the rest of this out back, if neither of you would mind,” you hissed. You really didn’t need everybody knowing all your personal feelings.

The three of you stepped behind the bar. Both men looked uncertain. It made you feel like you had a measure of power over them, but you were a bit nervous yourself. You’d hoped that confronting them wouldn’t come until much later.

You swallowed. “I know you want an answer on who I like more.” It took every ounce of willpower to keep your voice steady. Then, you did what they would’ve least expected. Grabbing Jack by the front of the shirt, you kissed him hard on the lips. He only had a second for satisfaction before you did much the same to James, whom you left a sputtering mess. “There’s your answer,” you said.

“You like us both?” James spluttered.

“I didn’t expect you to be that kind of woman.” Jack wore an awful self-satisfied smirk, but you only rolled your eyes at his comment.

“It is a turn of events, isn’t it?” You smiled.

“The question is: what now?” Asked Jack. “Norri, I assume you still want me dead?”

“Either that or in irons,” he said dryly.

“And I would rather not end up that way,” Jack responded.

James sighed. “I doubt this is the last time I’ll hunt you down. I believe the official report will read that you left as soon as I arrived, catching wind of my coming from an inside source. That’ll keep the navy busy for a good long while. I hope they don’t catch anyone.”

“I’m in your debt, sir.” Jack made a little mock bow. “And now, I shall excuse myself before dear old Norrington changes his mind.” He gave you a kiss before leaving, and James raised his eyebrows. As if there weren’t enough kisses to go ‘round.

James did just what he said he would, leaving in the morning. “I shall suppose that I’ll be back here, searching for Mr. Sparrow again. I should think that I’ll need a place to stay.” He smiled at you, and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

Jack, too, left. He’d found a ship somewhere, and a little crew, and he had piratical business to attend to. “I’ll be thirsty when I get back,” he assured you.

You didn’t need it. You knew that you’d see him again. You’d see them both again.

#mini series #miniseries #drabble #x reader #jack davenport #james norrington #commodore norrington #norrington #jack sparrow x reader #captain jack sparrow #potc #pirates of the caribbean #pirates #pirate #request #fic #fanfic

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love-takes-work · 5 years

Text

I shouldn’t argue with people on Reddit

My clown encounter

I was talking to someone about the Camp Pining Hearts graphic novel on Reddit, and among other things, I made a joking comment about how Mr. Frowney appearing in the audience of the Camp Pining Play to watch Mr. Smiley perform might mean they’re married now. Someone in the comments had this to say to me:

Reddit clown:

That would imply that anyone on SU cares about developing characters.

Follow the jump if you would like some bloviating about how this show fails at complex relationships, a funny conspiracy theory about how fan response directly controls which characters appear and what plots the Crew writes, and a smug conclusion that No One Can Answer This Deep Question and Therefore SU Is A Bad Show.

Reddit clown:

It’s clear that the author is trying to prop up their ship by purposefully making Amedot out to be unhealthy and problematic, even if it means derailing established personality and history. It’s pretty childish really.

“Does that imply what I think it does about Mr. Frowney and Mr. Smiley? Hey, maybe they’re married now. :)”

That would imply that anyone on SU cares about developing characters.

I addressed part of the Amedot comment and also said this:

Me:

Re character development: This graphic novel was not written by anyone who writes for the show. There's not really any constructive conversation I can have from here if your position really is "no one on SU cares about developing characters," though. This just seems like such an unnecessarily negative "lol this show sucks, edgier-than-u" comment that I don't know where it can go from here and I'm not planning to follow wherever you're trying to take this.

Reddit clown:

Well in general, the show doesn’t have a good track record for character dynamics

[link to a blog post on Tumblr which is literally a one-sentence repetition of what they just said about bad group dynamics]

And given that Frowney only appeared once, sadly there’s zero chance of him and Smiley ever getting back together. Same with Mystery Girl and Pearl.

lol ok

people who have only shown up once obviously won’t ever show again

no source needed on having a good track record, we’ll just believe it’s obvious if you can find an example of someone saying this on a Tumblr blog somewhere agreeing with your assessment

Me:

I have no personal stake in whether a rare character appears again--I'm not yearning for either of those people to return--but it's straight-up weird to say someone will never show up again because they only showed up once.

Then again, I remember how confident people were that Bismuth would never return (and how consistently they coupled their absolute certainty with sneering comments about how the voice actor was surely too expensive), so I guess it's not too surprising to me that some folks still think certain characters are guaranteed to never return. Bottom line is you never know when the throwaway mailman character in episode 3 will turn out to be a regularly returning character starting in episode 56. It just doesn't make sense to pretend such things are obvious. You do not know.

As for the continued weirdness of claiming that this group of characters has no character dynamics to speak of, I mean, it's literally one of the things I've appreciated the most all along about the show, and . . . I don't have to exaggerate or read into what I see to find it, nor am I confused about whether it's actually there. I again have no personal stake in whether you feel that way. It just strikes me as a bizarro world kind of comment. You're having a VERY different experience of this show from the one I've had.

Reddit clown:

That’s different. Bismuth was brought back thanks to fan demand. Meanwhile, these are specifically one off characters, especially considering the show’s halfway over. Not everyone can rise above a one shot character.

And can you name any notable character dynamics not attached to Steven? Compare that to say Adventure Time which had great character dynamics.

Oh god

“”””Bismuth was brought back because of fan demand””””

““““Can you name any notable character dynamics”“““

Dear lord what show is this cheese log of a person watching?

Me:

It's really weird that you think Bismuth was brought back because fans "demanded" it. You don't know how the show works at all.

And "then name character dynamics not attached to Steven" is a bizarre request. If you truly did not see the literal thousands of years of history between characters that enhanced who they are and how they act long before Steven was there, me trotting them out isn't going to help you believe it's there. Steven being the strict point of view character creates a situation that Adventure Time doesn't have, so it's weird to expect the show to diverge significantly from the lens it's designed to be viewed through, but believing you've presented a gotcha here is basically admitting you haven't noticed any of the relationships between the characters that Steven actually spent a ton of time discovering--whole episodes were even dedicated to relationships between characters who aren't Steven or aren't relating to Steven when they're revealing such things. It's not even subtext.

Reddit clown:

Well after fan backlash from the episodes Bismuth, they basically had no choice but to bring her back. And given how expensive the VA is, it hurt their budget. And really, what relationships? The whole thing revolves around Steven. The Gems are Steven’s moms, Connie is Steven’s love interest, the town is Steven’s friends. The only interesting dynamic is Lars hating Steven and even then he joined the Steven cult. Look how wasted Lapis and Peridot became when they escaped Steven’s clutches.

Oh this person is one of those

““““the steven cult”“““

The objectively only interesting thing is when someone hates someone

Cartoon Network’s budget was exploded by hiring a voice actor oh god

Me:

Wow. Your obliviousness and misplaced confidence is baffling, but . . . to be honest I feel like I'm watching someone who doesn't understand they're embarrassing themselves, and it's getting uncomfortable.

I know that you don't know what's going on behind the scenes of this show, but it is really bizarre sometimes that fans believe their behavior and their outrage is changing the writing or influencing what characters they use.

You really think fans raging about things is an actual "demand" they respond to. That they "had to" bring back Bismuth because of something FANS DID. Yikes. But I guess I shouldn't be too surprised that people are still saying things like this. Some people still think the writers stole plot elements from fan theories. I don't know why some people in fandoms think they're that important or relevant. The show is not being controlled by our responses in any way. If "fan backlash" worked to bring characters back, there are many others who would have returned long ago.

And isn't that lovely, you've got a little conspiracy theory about how paying the scads of money you imagine are required for Bismuth's voice actor have "hurt the budget" (oblivious to how many voice actors on this show have done more episodes despite being more famous/having higher net worth). You clearly have zero clue about how any of this works, and you shouldn't keep pretending you have knowledge about it, especially not while talking to people who do.

As for relationships, you're not really asking me. Like I said, if I wasted my time trotting out descriptions of relationship dynamics that you should have seen for yourself if you watched the show, there's no way that would convince you they were worthwhile, well-developed relationships if the show itself didn't. I see complex and multifaceted relationships, growth, change, conflict, and resolution, in so many relationships, like Greg and Rose figuring out what love is to them, Ruby and Sapphire growing into a healthier version of who they are together, Pearl learning to think independently of serving Rose even as she struggles with her nature, the long history of Pearl with Garnet, Amethyst with Pearl, even Greg with Amethyst (all things Steven has to discover and understand only partially as the show goes on) . . . but if you truly believe characters in this show who existed before Steven appeared 14 years ago have shown no evidence of having layered relationship dynamics that do not focus on him or depend on him, I don't know what show you're watching and I can't help you.

I don't know why you're even here since just about every bit of content you've posted here is "the thing you like sucks" and completely unsupported comments about why, sourced in nothing. It's just like . . . not even an argument, it's just a weird demonstration that you don't get what's going on so you've concluded nothing is. It's weird, and normally I've got no problem with criticism or spirited discussion, but these comments are just . . . they're empty. They're demonstrations of obliviousness or willful ignorance. It's just so, so weird to talk to someone who thinks they're laying down critical points but reads as so ignorant of what even happened in the source material or behind the scenes.

For the record, this person was going on in other threads about how Amedot is better than Lapidot “objectively” and partly because “it looks cuter,” saying the writing on the entire series is garbage, that “Steven as a character doesn’t make sense,” and that the show’s writers have no standards. Wow edgy.

Reddit clown:

I mean think about it; a famous celebrity gets more likes around the same the animation goes down hill?

And I would consider the following on the writers stealing fan content; keep in mind that Rose being Pink Diamond was a widely circulated fan theory and people were very stubborn about it. It could be that the crew felt like they needed to validate them. This lead to them to an unsatisfying and out of left field twist.

And I simply don’t see the powerful character interactions people brag about. What’s the character dynamics of the Gems? Again, the blog post I posted is the gotcha moment that no can answer.

I reiterate that the blog post referenced here is one sentence, and it says, “For a show that revolves around a group of characters, SU doesn’t have very interesting group dynamics writing (when they bother having them at all).” That is this person’s “gotcha.” That is this person’s “NO ONE CAN SATISFACTORILY ANSWER THIS” criticism.

omg I’m so confused and weirded out by this.

But

THINK ABOUT IT

A CELEBRITY “GOT LIKES” AND THEN THERE WAS A SPECIFIC TIME WHEN THE ANIMATION GOES DOWNHILL

It’s obviously because Cartoon Network was bankrupted in their ANIMATION BUDGET because they had to pay Uzo Aduba

And this was “”””forced”””” to happen by FAN BACKLASH

When we whine about wanting a character back we decimate the animation budget and make it go downhill guise

AND THIS PERSON ALSO ADMITS TO BELIEVING THE SHOW WENT IN A DIFFERENT “UNSATISFYING” DIRECTION THAN THEIR ORIGINAL INTENT BECAUSE THE CREW NEEDED TO VALIDATE STUBBORN FANS. AND THEY THOUGHT THE PINK DIAMOND REVEAL WAS “OUT OF LEFT FIELD.” YIIIIIIIIKES.

I had to stop replying here (and should have much earlier) because like

wow, how can someone have NO ABILITY TO INTERPRET THE CONTENT OF A SHOW and then still be this smug about thinking they’ve got its mediocrity nailed? While also being so confident about thinking they know fans control the structure of the storytelling? Unnggggh

#steven universe #negativity #su critical #myblog

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admin-cock-creations · 5 years

Text

A Change in Direction

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Fandom: A Hat in Time Pairing: The Conductor / F!Reader Summary: Stranded in a town full of birds where you’re the only human, it doesn’t seem like you’ve got much a chance at things going well for you. A local movie studio, however, changes your life for the better. Length: 5,137 words Warnings: N/A Other Locations: AO3

You still had no idea how you’d ended up here, though you could definitely recall when you woke for the first time and found the worried faces of numerous birds leaning over you. Most appeared to be owls, but one was a rather eccentric looking penguin with large sunglasses and an afro. He was pressing either a cold wing or a damp rag to your forehead when your eyes fluttered open, and once he noticed you were awake he had spoken in a boisterous tone.

“Darling!~ Are you alright? You took quite the stumble there!”

That made you pass out again.

The next time you woke you were in a bedroom, and for just a moment you were sure you were home and it had all been some weird dream. But then you noticed the room wasn’t your own and as you threw your legs off the side of the bed some arguing voices outside began to come closer. The only door to the windowless room was shoved open and the afro-sporting penguin from earlier walked in with a new figure by his side. Honestly, you had no idea what sort of bird the fluffy figure was, or if it was even a bird at all. Then, after a moment of the three of you looking at once another, the yellow one turned to the penguin and shouted in a clearly Scottish accent.

“Ye buffoon! Yer didnae tell me it was a lass faintin’ in the reception!”

Hard to believe that was the first ever interaction you had with your new boss, or rather, bosses.

Yes, once you found there was no returning to where you’d originally come from – not that you could remember it anyway – it was decided you’d have to stay and make a life in a town full of birds. You spent the first few weeks doing odd jobs around the town, periodically running into both the birds from the studio you now knew as DJ Grooves and the Conductor. Grooves was certainly the more open and friendly of the pair, not the say the Conductor wasn’t kind to you, it was just far more likely for the platform wearing penguin to find his way to your basic apartment, strike you up on a conversation of how your week was going and offer any assistance he could. That fact alone is why you were so surprised when on one evening you found his yellow partner at your door, instead, with the offer of an intern position at the studio.

Considering all you’d been doing for the past week was throwing your back out by wiping down cafe tables, you eagerly accepted the job. At least if you threw your back on a movie set it would be a more interesting story.

The following Tuesday you found yourself bustling about Dead Bird Studio, clipboard in hand and assisting DJ Grooves with production of his newest film. You’d come to learn the specific film tastes for each of the filmmakers over the short time you had been in town, and this newest genre was quite a bold step for Grooves to try. He was much more of a comedy and musical sort of bird, while his partner was the one better known for his action and murder mysteries. Though, considering you were just an intern, you really felt you had no place to speak on the director’s film choices.

A few days into the filming process, you had unfortunately been left alone in the studio for an evening, reviewing what shoddy film work they’d captured to that point and writing down every timestamp where there was some sort of error. Yawning and setting aside your now drained third cup of coffee, you glanced over your clipboard. You were on your third round of the film out of the recommended five, and things weren’t looking great so far.

18 scenes that needed scrapped. 32 boom mic shots. 74 actors out of place. 192 unintelligible and/or completely butchered lines.

You were starting to see why the Conductor was the more revered director in town. And speaking of the devil…

“I thought everyone had buggered off for the night, ye still burning the midnight oil, lass?”

Turning to look behind you, and unintentionally drawing a harsh crack from your back, you faced the Conductor from where he peeked in through the doorway. He must’ve taken his jacket off earlier in the day because it appeared he’d been in the process of putting it back on before spotting you on his way out, with the buttons still undone and his crisp white shirt and silver accented vest catching the light from the many screens in the room.

You nodded at his question and glanced over your clipboard once more, still new enough an intern to not want to risk accidentally offending either the filmmakers and lose the only good thing you had going for your life right now.

“Yes, Mr. Conductor. Mr. Grooves put me on film review before I leave for the night.” Glancing at a clock on the far wall, you winced internally at the time. Was it really that late? “I thought a few more crew members were still here but I suppose it is far too late to expect that.”

The man’s mouth seemed to purse as he took a small step into the room, arms folding over his chest and head tilting to look at the screens you had been watching. After a moment, he scoffed and shook his head a bit.

“Cannae believe DJ peck neck would leave an intern on film review. At least he could have given yer a second set of eyes!”

It was clear he saw how tired you were but you quickly blinked a few times and straightened your posture, hoping to look a little more awake.

“I’m quite alright by myself! I mean, I know everyone is so busy and I’m only an intern, I can take some of the load off everyone else’s backs.”

It was true. You worked your ass off through the day and throughout the filming process, but even then you were nowhere near as busy as the actual film workers. They couldn’t be expected to overwork themselves, otherwise filming would be interrupted. You’d had intern jobs before, granted none in the movie-making industry, but each time your job mostly consisted of making the load easier of the more important people. Whether you had been brainwashed into believing this was how being an intern was supposed to go or not, the Conductor seemed to disagree.

“Yer done enough for today. I can see those circles under ye eyes, and considerin’ ye certainly are no owl I think it’s time yer head in for the day.”

“But, sir, what about– ”

“Aye, don’t ye worry about ol’ Grooves. He isnae yer only boss, and if he has a word to say about it next time he sees ye just send him me way! Come along then, lassie! I can walk ye to yer apartment.”

Blinking slowly, you watched the bird man walk back out into the studio, hearing the distinct sound of doors being locked up and lights being shut off as you turned back to the wall of screens before you, clipboard still in hand. Could you afford to leave your work early? Would the Conductor really stick up for you if DJ Grooves had something harsh to say in the morning?

“Are ye comin’ lass?”

You glanced down to your clipboard, looking over the long list of timestamps and mistakes, listening to the hum of the screens for a few seconds before calling back.

“Coming, sir!”

The town had gone to sleep for the night, with only the pounding music from the club district giving any signs of life for several blocks. It had clearly rained recently as the cobblestones were still listening with puddles and a cool, crisp air brought goosebumps to your arms. Twas the downside of being a featherless human, you supposed. With no feathers to keep you warm and a very limited wardrobe you were used to walking through the cold to get back home some days. Though you certainly weren’t used to having company.

Beside you, the Conductor has his hands shoved in his pockets, rustling for a moment before pulling out what appeared to be a matchbox and a partly smoked cigar. You couldn’t help but watch in a mix of curiosity and confusion as he held the cigar between those pointed teeth and struck a match to life, the small flame bringing warm shades to his bright feathers as he lit up his preferred smoke. Had he always smoked cigars? You hadn’t spent much time working for him so perhaps he only did it in privacy, which would make sense as to why this was the first time you were seeing him do it.

As you watched the bird shove a hand back in his pocket and enjoy his smoke, what you didn’t realize was that he was watching you as well, and he spoke to you in an almost gentle tone as he held his cigar between his fingers and let the smoke roll from his mouth.

“Yer shiverin’, giriie. Ye that cold?”

Feeling a rush of warmth come to your face at your boss calling you out, you quickly looked back to the ground in front of your feet, doing your best to keep your shivering at bay with your arms folded over your chest.

“I-I’m fine, I swear! My apartment isn’t that far and it’s not that cold out so I’ll survive.”

Though you couldn’t see the way the Conductor's face scrunched up in a mix of thought and annoyance, you could almost feel it from the way he hummed in his throat. He didn’t say anything, however, and you expected him to leave it at that. What you weren’t expecting was for a warm jacket to be draped over your shoulders a moment later, and you definitely weren’t expecting to look over and find your boss with slightly ruffled feathers.

Reaching up to touch the collar of the warm jacket, your lips parted to retort but the owner was quick to beat you to it.

“That outta keep ye warm ‘til we get there, aye? Yer donae have the insulation like the rest of us, and if Grooves found out I walked ye home and let ye catch cold I’d nae hear the end of it!”

Another wave of heat found your face as you stared in soft wonderment at your boss. Was he truly such a gentleman, or was he merely keeping the studio's most active intern from getting ill? Those questions tumbled back and forth in your mind for a few moments until you noticed something you hadn’t before.

Now that his jacket was off you were given a view of the attire usually hidden beneath, but what intrigued you more than his fashion sense was his feathers… and just how fluffed they’d become. The Conductor was rather fluffy bird… thing… to begin with, but now, with his extra layer of warmth gone, it seemed he’d begun to fluff up slightly to keep himself warm. His ears and the smaller tufts on either side of his face were a little bigger, and there was some noticeable plumage peeking out from the one undone button on the collar his shirt. You knew birds ruffled their feathers for warmth, but in a town surrounded by the creatures, not once did it strike you that they would do such a thing.

“Thank you, sir. It’s very kind of you.”

The bird next to you let out a bit of a laugh before giving you an amused tone.

“Yer donae have to call me Mister and Sir all the time, lassie! Aye, I may be yer boss but I am nae a man for all them titles. Just call me Conductor, no need for all the professional mumbo jumbo.”

His bluntness took you by surprise. Never had you worked for a boss quite like the Conductor before, and you still weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. It seemed you’d have a little more time to think about it in the privacy of your own home though, as the bird pointed up towards an apartment complex, cigar between his talons.

“This is ye building, right? I’ll walk ye to the door, make sure ye get there nice and safe.”

Nodding silently, you keyed the pair of you into the apartment building, walking through the flickering lounge light and into the elevator before pressing the button for the fourth floor. Thankfully it seemed like the elevator was in working order today, with not even a flicker of the lights on your way up. Upon exiting, your small one-room apartment was the first to the right, so upon stepping out and before reaching to unlock your door, you began to shrug the jacket off your shoulders, but before you could get it off entirely the conductor was holding his hand up and shaking his head gently.

“But s- Conductor, won’t you need this?”

“Nah, lass, ye can hold on to it a while longer. I hear there’s supposed to be a nip in the air tomorrow morning and we can’t have yer gettin’ cold on the walk to the studio, aye? I’ve got more than one suit, and I’m nae expectin’ ye to keep it forever.”

With his cigar still clenched between his teeth, the yellow bird gave you a smile and nodded his head a bit before walking back to the elevator, leaving you standing in front of your door with his jacket and a strange feeling in your chest.

It was quite the feat on your part to manage sneaking into the studio the following morning without anyone noticing the fact that you were wearing you boss’ jacket. You were tempted to immediately go to his office and leave it there, but you decided that would look a bit suspicious and kept it neatly folded inside your messenger bag until a better time arose. Until then, you continued to rush about and work until you dropped.

Luckily, you weren’t left with another late job that day, and as you were packing up you realized you still had the Conductor’s jacket among your things. Keeping the folded article pressed to your chest, you made sure no one was out in the halls before making your way to the opposite end of the studio where the man’s office was. As you got deeper into his area of the studio, you could hear the hustle and bustle of some owls doing late night work, but with a few sneaky maneuvers on your part you managed to slip past undetected and made it to your boss’ office.

“Mr. Conductor? It’s me, may I come in?” You called inside with a gentle knock. There was a low grumble you took as permission, but you still opened the door slowly as if bracing for the worst.

Behind the door was an office you weren’t expecting. A desk made of some dark wood and stained a lovely hue of red sat in the center of the room, old movie posters of the director’s previous accomplishments hung in frames along the walls, a few lamps gave a warm light to the space and a few filing cabinets were placed about and filled with what you imagined to be movie scripts. At the desk, head in one hand and a glass of some alcohol in the other, was the Conductor himself. With the absence of his normal jacket he’d donned a different suit today, one that was a deep mahogany with a dark undershirt and tie. His current jacket was tossed aside and draped sadly on a corner of the expansive desk among the piles of crumpled papers. It was clear the man had been struggling with some sort of creative block and you couldn’t help but purse your lips. Looking back into the studio behind you, a moment passed before you closed the door behind you once again, placing aside your messenger bag and his folded jacket to take a seat in the closest free chair.

Once you sat down it seemed the bird finally noticed you and his head lifted from staring at the paper in front of him. A sort of crooked grin and weak chuckle was given to you as he forced himself to straighten up enough to slump back into his chair instead of hunch over the desk.

“Aye, lass, there ye are. I was – hic – I was wonderin’ if I’d see per pretty mug today. How are… how are ye? Is that DJ peck neck treatin’ yer well on set?”

Ignoring the strange airy feeling in your chest after being called pretty, you scooted closer to the desk in front of you and spoke softly to the drunken man.

“I’m treated fairly, he hasn’t yelled too harshly at me, yet. Thank you for averting what I’m sure would have been a nasty shouting session for leaving work early last night.”

“it was nothin’ lassie! I cannae let that peck neck pick on ye just because yer an intern. Intern yer may be, but ye do a smashin’ good job! Aye… with such a committed worker like ye I bet ol’ peck neck’s movie is going to win the annual bird movie awards this year.”

Looking away a bit, you fidgeted with a nearby pen on the edge of the desk.

“Actually… Mr. Grooves doesn’t take my advice on how his film could be improved. I’ve caught every mistake in the recording and acting and he won’t correct them. I’m not sure if he just refuses to listen to an intern or only cares about the dumb stardom stuff.”

Your confession seemed to catch the attention of the more serious director, leaning forward in his chair and setting aside in mostly empty whiskey glass now.

“That so, eh? Well I’ve seen yer workin’ on those shoddy recordings of his, and if he refuses to accept your criticism and advice then he’s just some – hic – some peck neck gone crazy on bird seed! I would give anything to have an intern like you on my crew right about now. Aye, poor Wesley cannae get a fresh film idea and the owls are no help.”

So that’s why he was moping around with a drink. He had lost his film-making groove and needed some inspiration. Or maybe… he needed an outside opinion.

“Well,”you started slowly, catching the little lift of his ear tufts as you got his attention, “considering how Mr. Grooves won’t take my advice, perhaps I could offer it to you and your crew, instead.”

You could see how the Conductor’s ear tufts wiggled a bit, whether it was out of thought or excitement you weren’t sure, but his mouth pursed for a moment and he tapped his talons on the desk a few time before turned to face you once more.

“If DJ peck neck cannae appreciate what ye bring to the table, then I certainly can. Startin’ tomorrow morning yer on my crew, and you willnae be catchin’ me ignorin’ that valuable input of yours.”

“No, no no! It’s all wrong! Are any of ye peck necks actually actors?!”

Several weeks had passed since you began work with the Conductor on his movie. It had taken both of you long enough to come up with a script, something rather new for his usual tastes but still in the ballpark, and you’d managed to fill almost every role with good actors. Now there was only one slot left, the most important one, and the one that was giving you the most trouble.

You were still searching for someone to fill the role of the main female lead and love interest.

When the drunken bird had told you in his private moment of weakness that he would never ignore your advice and criticism, he truly meant it, and since then you’d been something akin to his personal assistant. Sometimes he swore you knew more about film-making than he did with the quality tips you gave. You had even been the one to suggest the love interest in the story as a fresh new element to his usual tales, and you had been a great deal of help in helping him along the way. With this in mind, he pressed his hands over his face a mumbled to his side where you stood, clipboard in hand.

“Lassie, could ye please show these buffoons what we’re looking for in this character? It seems not a single owl can perform without havin’ their hands held.”

Nodding firmly, you placed aside the items you held and snatched up a spare script, making your way onto the auditioning stage and into the spotlight. You had written almost every line for this character so you barely had to glance at the printed words as you cleared your throat and began to act. You were nowhere near the professional level of acting, but you still knew how to put on a show.

Your voice was strong, your movement fluid, and every bird on set seemed impressed by the talent of a simple intern as you took upon the role of Lady Cynthia.

“I wanted to tell you that wherever I am, whatever happens, I’ll always think of you, and the time we spent together, as my happiest time. I’d do it all over again, if I had the choice. No regrets.”

Pulling his hands away from his face, the Conductor couldn’t prevent his jaw from dropping as he raised his head and watched you perform. Was it just the spotlight giving you that radiant glow or was he just imagining things? The passion and palatable emotion in every word you breathed made his feathers ruffle. Leaning forward in his seat, he stared on in pure awe as you continued the brief scene.

“I’m in love with you, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.”

As you finished, the Conductor felt his heart soar, barely hearing the clap of every other bird on the set. You, meanwhile, smiled shyly and felt a rush of heat flood your face, taking a small bow before beginning to walk off the stage. You’d made it halfway across and were out of the bright limelight when the director barked out once more.

“Alright! That’s a wrap for today! We’ve got our choice for Lady Cynthia!”

You stopped in place on stage, giving your boss an odd look and arching a brow before he focused his attention on you, a wide grin on his face and his ear tufts wiggling a bit out of glee.

“Lassie, we’re gonna make ye a star! Yer the only one who can so flawlessly capture Miss Cynthia’s character!”

Dropping the script you held to the ground, the papers scattered about your feet and your entire face went red as you stammered to your boss.

“M-me?!”

By now you were two weeks into filming and the Conductor was as pleased as punch at how progress was going. With the sudden decision to make you, a human woman the role of Lady Cynthia you had spent a number of days in the costume department, being poked and prodded for every outfit you'd be required to wear at some point in the film.

Most of your scenes so far hadn’t been major, but today was your first real chance to shine. Today you were due to film the first romantic moment between Lady Cynthia and the main protagonist, and truthfully, you were nervous. You’d been spending the last hour or so pacing back and forth in the caboose of the Owl Express, the Conductor’s pride and joy and where most of the day’s scenes would be taking place. It was still at the moment, with the crew preparing for filming and the actors prepping, but you were too nervous to even think of glancing over your lines right now.

Your personal script sat atop a crate inside the car, and you currently leaning against the railing in the back. The sun was just beginning to set, painting the scene for the romance shot, and you couldn’t help but give a heavy sigh and take off the large hat you were to wear, allowing the gentle breeze to caress your face.

From behind you, someone cleared you throat, and as you turned you were met with the director, his jacket left behind somewhere and his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. Considering you were planning to film in the desert, you could only image how hot he was under those feathers, you were ready to melt in the over-the-top dress you were practically sewn into. Something about the Conductor’s body language made it seem like he was also nervous, and out of reflex you asked, “Is something on your mind, Conductor?”

With a soft hum, the bird shook his head, reaching up to scratch at the feathers on the back of his neck.

“Nae donae worry about me, lass, I’m perfectly fine. Yer look like the one who’s nervous, though.”

Sighing again, you ran a hand through your hair, looking out over the desert where the crew was working to load all the equipment onto the train.

“I just… I’ve never acted before, especially not in a high budget movie as the main love interest. I won’t lie, I’m nervous about today’s scene. What if I mess it up? What if I’m not emotionally convincing? I’ve got so many worries and I don’t want to risk looking at the script and making my nerves worse.”

The pair of you were silent for a few moments until you heard the rustling of paper and turned your attention back to your boss. The Conductor had picked up your copy of the script and flipped through until he stopped about two-thirds of the way in, where you could only assume the aforementioned romance scene was. You could see him scanning over the scene before he looked up to you, keeping the script in one hand and taking a step forward. You had no chance to question what he was doing before he took your hand in his, pressing it to his chest, directly over his heart, and you immediately knew just as he began to speak.

“Whatever our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same. You deserve the world, and I know I can’t give that to ye. So I’ll give ye the next best thing: my world.”

Your chest swelled and you felt yourself get a little weak in the knees as the Conductor put on his best acting and took the place of the main protagonist and Lady Cynthia’s love interest, fully intending to act this scene out with you to calm your worries. So, taking a small breath, you recalled your own lines and replied easily to him.

“I have no need for such grand gestures, darling. Your hand holding mine is enough, this is how the galaxies collide. All I desire is to be near you, to gaze upon your face and know that my heart undeniably belongs to you.”

The Conductor gave a dreamy sigh and lifted your hand from his chest to the side of his face, where you cupped his cheek in your hand and felt your heart flutter. Those feathers were so soft, and as you stroked your thumb over the warmth of his face you watched as he grew fluffier than usual. Was he feeling unwell? There was no way your acting was drawing such a reaction out of him.

“I crossed a thousand leagues of sand and sky to come to ye, and lost the best part of me along the way. Donae tell me to leave.”

“Never, my love. Never leave.”

Abruptly standing, the Conductor swept you up in his arms, dipping you low as the protagonist was meant to do in the scene and you knew where this was headed.

“Yer are so amazingly…wonderfully…beautifully…awesomely…most definitely the most precious of all precious things.”

There must’ve been stars in your eyes as you draped your arms around the bird’s neck, not daring to pull yourself closer and break the scene as you watched him slowly begin to lean in. There was to be a kiss after he spoke that line, there was no way he was actually going to kiss you. He was a dedicated actor, you had watched the films he’d stared in himself, but if he was actually going to do this during an impromptu practice run then it was a whole other level of commitment.

But as you watched him draw close, part of you realized you wanted this.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and you were fully prepared to kiss your boss before you heard some frustrated voices nearby, and both of you whipped your heads over to the source. A small crowd of owls had gathered with a filming camera and they had apparently been filming your little interaction with the director, which sent a wave of heat through your face and to the very tips of your ears. The Conductor quickly pulled you back to your feet, catching yourself on the railing so you wouldn’t collapse out of embarrassment as the furious fluff ball poofed up even more out of embarrassment and snapped at his crew.

“ What the peck do ye peck necks think yer doing?! Get ye tails in gear and load those cameras onto me Owl Express and that film better be destroyed in the next minute! ”

Watching the director storm off, you fanned yourself with your large costume hat, deciding that the impromptu practice had indeed helped. If you just pictured the owl plating the main character as the Conductor, you may just be able to give a flawless performance. And maybe, if you had the confidence, you’d ask him after filming today if he could help you practice the true romance scene at the end of the movie. Your acting was probably good enough to make yourself seem nervous again. But then again, after what the Conductor just tried to pull, perhaps you didn’t need to act.

#a hat in time #ahit #ahit conductor #a hat in time conductor #conductor x reader #conductor/reader #ahit conductor x reader #ahit conductor/reader

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bollmcdaniel99-blog · 5 years

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easilydistractedbyfanfic · 6 years

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Assessment

assessment (n.)

the act of judging or assessing a person or situation or event

Raven Reyes thinks about her decisions

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This fic takes place right after 5x07 and it is LONG.

This is Murven the way I want them - a slow burn with snark & sentimentality, and lots of alone time so they can figure out they’re crazy about each other!

Rated explicit/adult. Don’t own anything and this plot is full of tropes and curse words, because FUN.

All mistakes are my own & I see that all the italic words I used in this fic aren’t converting over on tumblr, no idea how to fix this so it loses a little in translation, sorry.

See end for more notes

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Raven Reyes was having a shit couple of days, and she was getting damn tired of it. It’s late, and she lays on an uncomfortable cot in an old church building in the Shallow Valley, along with a handful of others who the Eligius crew has deemed as not-yet-trustworthy. Between the metal shock collar that chafes her neck and the countless thoughts running through her head, there’s no way she can sleep even though she wishes she could.

She spent so much time up in space fantasizing about what things would be like when they got to the ground again, but she’d never imagined any scenarios like this. During the six years they were all together on the Ring, she’d actually managed to forget most of the drama and stress that they’d previously experienced on Earth, but it had come rushing right back to her these last few days and her brain was still trying to work out how to handle it all.

Right, Raven - take a deep breath and assess the problems as they currently exist, she told herself. Okay, yeah, she could do that, she was good at that. The current issue at the top of her list was the little chat she’d had with Echo before lights-out. She had felt incredibly betrayed and conflicted when Echo had not abided by her demand to give her more time with Shaw, and her indignation had not lessened when she saw Shaw get dumped into the building earlier, clearly having been beat up and now essentially a prisoner himself. She had felt a lot of guilt at ratting him out to Diyoza, and was content to place the blame for that on Echo’s shoulders. She had taken such offense at Echo’s actions that she had rebuffed her friend when Echo had clearly made an attempt to talk, but she should have known that Echo wouldn’t give up that easily. Later that night when Raven had made her way back to the building after using the facilities that had been set up as a bathroom outside, Echo had made her move and pounced on her.

“I know you’re pissed, but you’ve got to hear me out.” Echo had demanded. Raven shrugged off the hand Echo had grasped her arm with, and started to stalk back towards the steps that led up to their temporary prison, but Echo anticipated that and moved in to stop her.

“No, Echo, I’m not interested in anything you have to say right now, and if you’re smart, you won’t push me!” Raven spit out.

“I don’t care if you don’t want to hear it, Raven, but you’re going to listen anyway.” And while she spoke, Echo dragged Raven over to a small stand of trees at the side of the building that would give them some cover if anyone happened to look their way. “Look, I get it - I went against your wishes and not only did that make you furious with me, but my decision hurt someone that you view as a potential ally around here. You asked me to give you time, but even if had wanted to, I couldn’t do that, Raven, and you know it!”

Raven refused to meet Echo’s eyes. Logically, she knew Echo had a point, but she wasn’t used to people ignoring her opinion. “Echo - you could have let me talk to Shaw more! I know he’s on our side and he could have found a way to help us get into their computers!”

“You’re probably right. Maybe Shaw would have found a way, but that would have meant more time would have passed and I couldn’t bet on that. Raven, you know Bellamy and Monty were waiting for us to get them eyes over here, and the longer we took to do it, the more danger they could have been in and the greater the possibility that we’d get caught with that chip. I’m not going to take that chance, not even when it’s you who was asking me to. I hope you can understand that… and I have to be honest, I don’t get why you were willing to risk our friends for the sake of this guy, Shaw, who might not even prove to be useful to us.” Echo stared uncompromisingly at her, and Raven struggled to answer, because she wasn’t even sure how to explain it herself.

“I can’t explain it, other than to say that I just feel like if we give Shaw a chance, he could really come through for us. I watched him on that video when the Eligius was taken over and my instincts say he’s not like the rest of them.” Raven shrugged.

Echo was silent for a few moments, then sighed. “Raven, I hope you know what you’re doing. Shaw might not be as bad as the rest of some of these people, but you told me yourself that his actions were why you and Murphy got tortured. You and Murphy could have died! He looked like shit when we found him in the woods, and he was really worried about leaving you behind! And from the looks of both of you, I don’t think Shaw stopped that torture very quickly, you know… It seems to me that it’s pretty likely Shaw would be in the loop when it comes to the missiles that Diyoza has too - it’s hard to imagine that he’s going to go against everyone he knows and his place in this group just for someone he’s only just met. You might want to believe the best in people, but I’ve got to go with what I know - and what I know is that I’ll do what I need to do to protect who I care about, even if it means you won’t forgive me for it.” Echo smiles sadly, an eyebrow arched as if to dare Raven to deny it.

Raven inhaled sharply. When faced with Echo’s perspective, it did sound like she was being the unreasonable one, when Echo’s quick actions clearly were the best choice to protect their friends. She could admit that maybe she’d been too emotionally involved, so she reached for Echo’s hand and squeezed it tightly for a moment. “I’m sorry, Echo, I let some of my own personal stuff get in the way of the goal, and I’m glad you kept focused. We’re good - no hard feelings on my part, okay?” She grinned at Echo to show her sincerity and was pleased when Echo smiled back at her.

Raven had then gone inside, and Echo had followed a little while later. Diyoza had a pretty strict lights-out policy in place for the defector’s group, so it wasn’t long until everyone made their way to their cots for the night. As Raven replayed the conversation in her head, she felt unsettled again at how her behavior looked through Echo’s eyes. By asking for more time in order to involve Shaw in the plans to get to a computer, she could see now that it would have added a day, maybe even two, to the process, and that was time that they all just didn’t have. Why had she done that? It wasn’t like her to rule out the most direct solution to a problem, and yet that was essentially what she had done. She rolled over on the cot, trying to get more comfortable as she considered her actions.

She’d told Echo the truth about her impression of Shaw, but it wasn’t just based on what she’d seen on the Eligius video during the hostile takeover of the past crew. She’d also seen it after Shaw had forced McCreary out of the cell at gunpoint after the torture session. She’d been so desperate to get to Murphy right away that she hadn’t noticed it at first, but when Shaw confessed that he had been the one behind locking out the missiles, she saw a spark of guilt in him and knew that she could talk him into helping them, if she could just have the time to convince him. And he’d gone through with it, he’d helped get Murphy out even though that damn shock collar was still on him, and Raven had felt such utter relief that Murphy was going to be out of the reach of McCreary and she knew she felt grateful to Shaw for that. Was she letting her gratitude unduly influence her opinion of Shaw? Maybe… She remembered telling Murphy & Shaw about her ‘better plan’, and Shaw didn’t disagree, although Murphy sure had. When she told them that her plan meant that Murphy would escape and she’d stay behind, she was recalling the glint of absolute madness that McCreary had in his eyes while holding that knife to Murphy’s neck. She would have done anything in that moment to keep him safe, and if she really had been behind the computer lock-out, she would have confessed to McCreary right then without a second thought. So when an idea started to formulate that would get Murphy away from McCreary and back to their friends, Raven definitely felt it was a win-win. Murphy, however, had absolutely refused to leave her behind and it was only when Raven wouldn’t back down and Shaw had sided with her that Murphy had started to at least consider it as an option. So yeah, there was gratitude, alright.

And as much as it made her feel a little embarrassed, there was also an appreciation for Shaw’s intelligence when it came to all the hacking maneuvers they’d gone back and forth on. No doubt, her friends were all clever, but often in their own specialties and it had been a long time since she’d had someone to challenge her in that particular way. It did give her a bit of a thrill to have to think on her feet and stay one step ahead of the then unknown operator on the other end of the computer. But did gratitude & a grudging respect for tech skills explain why she had been so quick to want to bring him into her circle? Partly, she guessed… but as she stretched out her legs on the cot, she knew it went even deeper still.

Okay, Raven, if we’re gonna do this whole self-reflection thing instead of sleep, better at least be honest about it, she thought to herself. Her urge to involve him in their plan could also be traced to the fact that she found him attractive. There, she’d confessed to it. She found Shaw appealing when she got around to actually noticing - at first she was pretty distracted by the torture he was present for, and come to think of it, what did that say about HER, that she could be attracted to someone that had been involved in that? Echo was right that Shaw hadn’t stopped it immediately - and she had obviously been suffering. Was it wrong of her to find him attractive after that? She wasn’t sure what it meant about the kind of person she was, but she was inclined to be a little easy on herself this time around. Being in space for six years had given her a lot of time to get to know Harper, Monty, Emori, Echo, Bellamy and Murphy, but it had also given her a lot of time to know herself too. Yeah, she could hold a grudge sometimes, but for the most part she was a pretty forgiving person - holding on to negativity wasn’t what she wanted and it made more sense to let things go and reach for happiness instead. She grinned to herself, thinking about Sinclair and how he had been such a big influence on her to help teach her that outlook. So she guessed it was pretty quick that she’d moved past Shaw’s role in her and Murphy’s torture, but she hadn’t honestly forgotten it either.

She realized that the reality of her situation was that she was a young woman who had been celibate for far too long and she couldn’t help who she was attracted to. And no, she didn’t deliberately choose it, but she is attracted to Shaw. Selfishly, maybe she was thinking less about her friends and more about the opportunity to spend time with Shaw trying to come up with a plan together. She wasn’t proud of her actions upon reflection, but she could concede that she had been thinking with her libido and not with her brain. And no matter how inviting she found Shaw, she wouldn’t let that happen again, not when there was so much at stake. She punched the sad excuse for a pillow on her cot and rolled to her side, determined to shut off her brain and get some sleep.

*****************

The next day passed slowly. Raven made several attempts to talk to Shaw but made no real progress with him. He was understandably angry with her and once she had realized Echo’s actions were the right call, she was sorry he’d been hurt but couldn’t be sorry that they’d accomplished the goal of accessing the computer system. She was hopeful that Monty was using the information they now could access to create a plan to both rescue her and Echo, as well as to find a way to undermine Diyoza and her hold on Shallow Valley. From what Raven could see, Clarke had sure made a beautiful home here for herself and the young girl, Madi. Echo had told her briefly that Clarke had spent the years on Earth alongside Madi, and she couldn’t wait to meet her. Finding out that Clarke had been alive this whole time had amazed her, and she was so relieved that Clarke hadn’t been alone while her friends had been in space together and her mom had been underground. When she and Murphy had heard Clarke’s voice over the comms, she could scarcely believe it was real. She had carried such guilt about Clarke during the long duration they were in space - she honestly felt that if the group hadn’t had to come back to Becca’s lab to get her, maybe Clarke would have had enough time to climb the tower and make it back safely. She and Bellamy had both grieved for Clarke on the Ring, but Raven’s sadness was always tinged with guilt, especially when she saw how difficult it was for Bellamy.

But now, knowing Clarke was alive and they were finally all on Earth again together... Raven was looking forward to the future more than she had in a long time. If anyone could come up with a plan to save them all, it would be Clarke and Bellamy. And, she grinned to herself, she’d probably be able to add a few details to it once they retrieved her and Echo. Her fingers itched to get to work on building things and repairing what was broken.

Raven decided to see if she would be allowed to go over to the structure that Abby was using as a medical clinic. She had been thrilled to see both Kane & Abby in the camp, even though she knew they were prisoners just like she was. If she was lucky, maybe she could get a chance to talk to Abby and see if they had any idea what the next steps would be. She spoke to the guard at the top of the steps and was pleased to see him nod when she made her request. He pointed to Abby’s hut, which was at the edge of the woods, farther away from the main camp and outbuildings. Raven walked slowly over, happy to take in the scenery and how beautiful everything was. The scents of the grass and trees surrounded her, and she could see flowers and berry bushes growing all around. There were bushes with purple berries growing alongside the foundation of the clinic, and Raven hoped they’d turn out to be edible. Even if they ended up being sour, they had to beat algae! No doubt about it, the environment was certainly idyllic, and Raven couldn’t help but hope nothing would happen to it in the absurd fight for dominance that was currently underway between all the survivors.

Raven climbed up the steps and carefully opened the door. “Abby? Are you here?” She glanced around the small space, taking in the various medical equipment that was accumulating inside, probably brought over from the ship that had brought Raven and Murphy to the ground.

“Raven, is that you?” Abby called out as she came out from behind a screen that had been arranged in the back corner of the room. “What a nice surprise!” She moved towards Raven and embraced her, much as she had in the moments they first saw each other when Raven had been escorted through the camp.

“I was wondering if you might like some company?” Raven pulled back slightly and smiled shyly at Abby.

“From you? Always!” Abby laughed, and turned back towards a table along the side wall. “Will you help me disinfect the equipment over here and we can catch up?”

“Gladly! I’m going crazy without something for my hands to do!” joked Raven. “So tell me - were you able to actually speak real words when you saw Clarke or were you as stunned as I was to hear she was alive?”

Abby turned towards Raven, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. Raven reached over and clenched Abby’s hand tightly. “I never let myself think that she hadn’t survived, but still… to see her there in front of me after so long...it was like a dream.” Abby sniffed, a few tears trailing down her face.

Raven’s eyes were bright too. “I know, I couldn’t believe it at first either. I heard her voice come over the comms and I could barely say anything. Abby, for so long I’d grieved for her - I really thought she was gone -” Raven abruptly broke off and sobbed. Abby carefully folded Raven in her arms again, rubbing her back gently.

“I know, I know. It’s okay, Raven. We’ve got her back now and as soon as we can, we’ll all be together again. I’m not going to let anything prevent that from happening. We’ve all been through so much.” She handed Raven a tissue and Raven blotted her eyes and laughed.

“Listen to me, getting all mushy! I actually didn’t come here to have a good cry, if you can believe it! Let’s get these instruments cleaned up and you can tell me what’s happened to you and Kane these last few years. I hope you guys had better food options than space algae!” Raven jested and moved towards the table again and didn’t notice Abby’s shoulders stiffen.

Abby strode over to Raven’s left and picked up a pair of surgical scissors. “Besides not being a fan of the food, it must have been hard to be in the Ring again after having had time on Earth, wasn’t it?”

Raven looked thoughtful for a moment and opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a scratching noise coming from somewhere near the floor. She looked briefly at Abby, eyebrows lifted in surprise. Abby gestured for Raven to keep talking as she passed her a scalpel and moved towards the sound. Raven babbled about what she missed on the ground while she tiptoed closer, and together the two women watched as a small section of the floor started to rise. They exchanged a quick glance of trepidation before preparing for attack.

“Raven? I know you’re in here, where are you?” a hushed voice murmured, and an agile body stretched through the small opening, stood up and turned around.

“Murphy!” Raven gasped, and launched herself across the room at him. He caught her and encircled her tightly in his arms, and Raven fiercely hugged him back, elated to see him. He smelled like grass and wood smoke and fresh air and Murphy and there was an undeniable relief within her that he was okay and had actually made it back to her.

Refusing to let him go, Raven erupted with questions. “What are you doing here? Are you okay? How did you find me? What’s the plan? Let me look at you!” She wriggled backwards slightly and tilted her chin up to gaze at him. He still had bruises everywhere, including a black eye and a split lip. “Oh, your poor face.” She grimaced in empathy.

“I don’t know, I think it makes me look kind of dangerous.” He quipped. And then there it was, that Murphy smirk that she had come to know so well, and it was only on seeing it now that she realized how close she’d come to losing him. Raven tugged him down towards her again and rested her cheek on his shoulder.

“I was worried about you.” She murmured. And she felt his arms clench more snugly around her and his voice was low in her ear as he spoke. “I was worried about you, too.” Raven sighed, content to stay where she was for the moment, but then she and Murphy both heard a throat clearing behind them and turned in tandem to address Abby, who had a bemused look on her face as she took them both in.

“John, I was so happy to hear you had made it up to space with Raven and Bellamy and the rest of your friends. It’s good to see you.” Abby gently pulled Murphy into a hug, and Raven was glad to see that Murphy returned it with genuine affection.

“Abby, it’s nice to see you, too. Clarke told me to give you her love.”

“You’ve seen Clarke?” Abby exclaimed. “When? Is she okay?”

“She was fine, last I saw her. Before I tell you both what’s going on, I don’t want to get caught in here. You two make yourselves busy over near that screen in the corner - I’ll go behind it and fill you in, just in case someone comes in the door.”

Raven and Abby scrambled to follow Murphy’s directions, both of them anxious to hear the latest news. Abby pulled a cart closer to the screen and she and Raven picked up some of the medical tools again to disinfect, and Murphy gave them his update.

“Raven, Echo probably told you that they found me in the woods, but the shock collar didn’t allow me outside a certain range of the forest. So I sent the rest of them on to warn Bellamy about the missiles but Emori stayed with me to help get the collar off. She figured out a way to do it but not until after we already had McCreary and a few others on our tail.”

A dismayed sound came from Raven’s throat, and Murphy met her eyes. “Don’t worry - we took a page from your book and used some of the remaining rocket fuel to make a bomb. We thought we might have killed them all, but McCreary was only unconscious, not dead.” Raven released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. McCreary was beyond treacherous and she wouldn’t regret him coming to any harm.

Murphy held her gaze. “I wanted to kill him, but Emori convinced me we could use him as a hostage.” Raven swallowed hard. She knew Murphy, too, was remembering that frightening and horrific torture session. She still felt it sometimes, buzzing painfully through her nervous system, and sometimes at night the image of the knife pressed to Murphy’s throat flashed among her dreams.

Her hand floated up towards the collar still around her neck, but before she touched it, it sank back down to the table. Murphy clenched his jaw and then looked towards Abby. “Emori and I managed to get McCreary back to Polis as a hostage, and that’s where I saw Clarke. Bellamy told me what had been going on there and that Echo had defected to Shallow Valley. Clarke drew me a map and told me about the trap door in the floor of this hut and when I saw that you were both inside, I snuck out of the woods to get in here. We made a plan and it starts now. I’m here to take you back to Polis, Raven.”

“What, wait, right now?” Raven was feeling somewhat dazed. “I still have this collar! Kane and Abby and Echo are still here. And Shaw, I can’t leave him here, Murphy, despite what he did.”

Murphy’s gaze was hard. “Emori showed me how to disable the collar, and this isn’t going to be negotiable. Clarke, Bellamy and I actually agreed on something for once - that you’re too valuable a hostage to stay here. At any hint of action by Wonkru, Diyoza won’t hesitate to use that brain of yours to outsmart everyone, Raven, and you know it! They need Abby to cooperate with them - they won’t harm her or Kane because of that. But Diyoza knows you and I were alone together on the Eligius, and she knows you’re involved somehow with Clarke and Bellamy too - they’ll use you against us and we won’t risk that.”

Abby pleaded with her. “He’s right, Raven - Diyoza needs me and she’s developed an… interest in Kane. She knows if something happens to him, I won’t help them. We’re relatively safe here because of that, but you’re not. You need to go with Murphy.”

“But we can’t leave Echo behind! She won’t even know what happened to me if I leave right now.” Raven bit her lip, attempting to think of yet another plan that wouldn’t involve leaving someone behind this time.

Murphy straightened his shoulders and faced her with an uncompromising set to his chin. “Reyes. We can have Abby inform Echo somehow if it’s really bothering you, but even if I have to gag you and throw you over my shoulder, I’m taking you out of here. Clarke warned me not to let you try any of this sacrificial bullshit of yours and I won’t ever be leaving you behind again. Put your emotions aside for a moment and think. You know this is the right call. So get over here and let me take that collar off you.”

Raven struggled to keep her face neutral. Of course, she knew Murphy could be just as stubborn as she was, but she could see that this time, there would be no prodding him to come around to her point of view, no matter how hard she tried. He was firmly and thoroughly convinced that his way was the best way, and she could either waste time arguing or accept that maybe he and Abby - and Clarke and Bellamy too, she supposed - were actually right.

“Fine.” She huffed, and strode over to where Murphy was concealed behind the screen. “Let’s get this collar off of me then.”

Murphy regarded her a bit distrustfully. “I thought it would be a lot harder than that to convince you. I must be more persuasive than I thought.” She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, but she couldn’t help the small smile that crept over her face at his words.

“Don’t expect it to be a regular occurance.” She sassed, and lifted the hair from the back of her neck so it was held away from the collar. “Do you know what you’re doing or should I brace myself for a few shocks?”

She almost laughed out loud at the wounded look on Murphy’s face. “Hey, I can do things! I just have to want to do them. Now get ready to owe me a huge apology.” And he pulled a few tools from a pocket in his pants and leaned closer to her. She could feel his warm breath on her neck as he carefully removed the cover, and his left hand came to rest firmly on her shoulder as he helped hold her still. She peeked up at Murphy from under her lashes and felt a fluttering in her stomach at the fierce gleam in his eyes. Raven concentrated on breathing in and out calmly, and slowly her own eyes drifted shut.

After what couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, Raven heard the collar click open and she took her first deep breaths in what felt like ages. She felt Murphy’s hand move briefly to the back of her neck where the chafing felt the worst and he softly smoothed his fingers over the redness there. She leaned in to his touch, enjoying the sensation until he seemed to remember himself and jerked his hand away, focusing instead on putting his tools back in his pocket.

“Thanks, Murphy. You were right - I shouldn’t have questioned your ability to get that off without killing me.” Raven teased.

Murphy’s eyebrow rose in her direction. “Damn. First you agree to follow my instructions instead of your own, and now you’re admitting that I was right about something - we’d better get out of here before you jinx everything.” He then got very serious, and turned to Abby. “If we’re lucky, we’ll have some time before anyone comes looking for her. I want you to tell them that she discovered this trap door, and despite your best attempts to stop her, she went through it to try and escape. They’ll be angry that you didn’t tell them right away but I don’t think they’ll come down too hard on you because they want you to keep cooperating with them. If you can manage to get word to Echo without being obvious, let her know that Raven’s with me and we have a plan. Echo knows how to take care of herself. I can’t say how soon we’ll be back, but keep watch for us.” Abby nodded and reached out to squeeze Raven’s hand.

Murphy then turned towards Raven and his tone is firm. “I don’t want them to know anyone’s with you, Raven, so when we crawl under the floor and get to the woods, I want you to step exactly where I do. I’ll change my stride to accommodate yours until we get farther away from the camp. When they notice you’re gone, Diyoza will send less people after you if she thinks you’re on your own. They’ll underestimate you anyway, but our odds will be even better if they don’t realize you’ve got a partner. Got it? Step in my footprints.”

Raven found herself taken aback by the confidence Murphy was displaying. It wasn’t that she didn’t have faith in him, because she knew he actually had hidden depths. But this was a far cry from the guy who had isolated himself on the Ring so recently and did his best to push them all away. She tilted her head up and replied. “Okay, got it.”

“Take these.” Murphy bent down and pushed up one leg of his pants, revealing a sharp knife with a strong handle strapped to his calf. He handed it to her and then reached for his waistband where he removed a small gun from a holder there, and passed that to her as well. “Don’t use the gun unless it’s a last resort. Let’s go.” He ambled over to the trap door and dropped to his stomach as he lifted it slightly and looked through the crack. Assured that nothing was disturbed, he stood and reached for Raven’s arm to help her step down.

Raven’s eyes swept to Abby’s, who had moved closer to say goodbye, and she gave her a quick one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Be careful, Abby. I’ll see you soon.” And then she awkwardly climbed under the floor, disappearing from view.

Murphy moved to follow her, but Abby’s hand on his forearm stopped him. Abby’s eyes were knowing as she implored him. “Keep her safe, John.”

Murphy didn’t flinch under her gaze. He nodded brusquely and in a low voice, replied “I will.”.

****************************

Raven didn’t know how long they’d been moving through the woods. They hadn’t stopped at all since they had made it to the edge of the forest behind Abby’s medical hut. Raven had painstakingly stepped in Murphy’s shallow footprints until he’d finally whispered that she could adjust her stride to her own. She was out of breath and her leg was aching - being stuck as a prisoner in a small camp hadn’t allowed for much exercise and she could feel that her body wasn’t as limber as it had been on the Ring, with daily workouts or sparring instruction from Echo.

“Here, behind this trunk, we can take a short break.” Murphy gestured to a large tree that would effectively cover their backs if they sat or stood against it, and Raven immediately slid down to the ground with a groan. She hadn’t noticed it before, but Murphy shrugged a small pack off his back and pulled out a canteen of water. Raven reached for it and eagerly took a deep gulp, so thirsty that she didn’t care how greedy she looked.

Murphy shook his head at her and drawled, “Guess that means you might be hungry too?” and passed her a small paper covered bundle. Raven’s fingers quickly unwrapped it and to her delight found a red apple. She immediately took a big bite, and mouth full, she practically hummed with pleasure. “Oh my god, this is fantastic! So much better than algae! Here, Murphy, take a bite!” and she held out the shiny apple towards him.

Murphy hesitated but then gingerly leaned forward and pressed his mouth over her own teeth marks, all the while never losing eye contact with her. Her hand trembled for a moment, and she had a sudden compulsion to use her thumb to wipe a droplet of the apple’s juice from his bottom lip. She squelched down the impulse and smiled at him instead, getting her bearings back. “If I knew you had this apple in your pack, I would have been willing to come with you right away.”

“I should’ve known you’d be motivated by food. I’ll remember that the next time I want something from you.” Was she reading into things or did that comment feel like Murphy might be toying with her? Raven felt off-kilter, so she looked down at the apple in her hand and quietly took another bite. She could feel Murphy watching her from the corner of her eye.

After a few moments passed in silence, Murphy announced “It won’t be much longer. There are a lot of caves around here. We’ll make it look like we’ve gone into one of them in case someone manages to track us, but I don’t want to get boxed in. When I was heading towards you, I found a large fallen tree that should make a decent shelter for us, with a little work. It’ll give us more options for escape if we need it.”

“Are we going to be here a while?” Raven was glad to be free of the collar, but there was something to be said for clean water, showers and plentiful food back in Diyoza’s camp. She handed the canteen back and watched Murphy swallow his own gulp before he pushed the container into the satchel.

“Naw, we just have to stick it out for a day or two until it’s the window Clarke gave me for the best estimate of when to start the journey through the sand. Apparently being down here the last few years has taught her how to ‘read’ the sandstorms so we can avoid them.” Murphy slid his arms through the pack and reached down to help Raven up. “It will be dark soon. We won’t be able to make a fire tonight but I don’t think that the Eligius crew will be that interested in exploring unknown areas with no daylight.”

Raven winced as she put her weight back onto both legs. Yeah, this wasn’t going to be easy. She needed to get back into a stretching routine, but for the next few days she could anticipate more pain than normal, both due to some nerve damage that she had probably sustained during the shock collar torture and from not keeping up with the strict yoga routine she’d created for herself in space. It didn’t help that she had forgotten how hard it was to balance on the uneven terrain of Earth - the Ring was full of smooth surfaces where she didn’t have to compensate as much for her damaged leg.

She sensed Murphy’s eyes on her as she steeled herself for the remaining journey to come. She offered him a small smile, and was relieved when he returned it.

“Okay?” he asked, and she felt the need to reassure him.

“Of course, because I’m awesome!” Raven winked at Murphy and she felt a little flip in her belly when he winked back.

**************************************

A few hours later, she was pretty sure that she had spoken too soon. She had gone from awesome to awful but was doing her best not to let it show. She was flooded with relief when she spotted a fallen tree and noticed Murphy slowed down his steps.

“Yeah, this is it. We’ll be here for a while now. When I crossed over the sands to get here, I left another pack partially buried nearby. I’ll grab it - it has more water, some blankets, other supplies. You sit and get off your leg - I know it’s bothering you more than you’re letting on.” Murphy dragged over a small log to where she had basically just collapsed, and he lifted her ankle to raise her foot up. “Better try to keep the swelling down as much as we can. I’ll get the camp situated.”

Raven wanted to protest, to say that she could pull her own weight… but the truth was, she was exhausted and sore. And if Murphy wanted to do this for her, why shouldn’t she let him? She knew that if the situation was reversed and he needed the rest, she’d willingly take care of him too. “Thanks, Murphy.” She smiled at him, and wondered what was happening back at Shallow Valley. Had Abby gotten in trouble over her disappearance? Did Echo know she was with Murphy? And Shaw - was he thinking about her and hoping she escaped, or was he still holding a grudge over what she and Echo had done? She leaned her head back on the trunk and let her thoughts carry her away.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she must have fallen asleep, because Murphy was rubbing her arm and calling her name. He had two plates piled with berries, more apple slices, leaves and some kind of jerky and he placed one next to her. By now it was full dark, and the tree canopy concealed much of the night sky. She tore into the food voraciously, giggling a little at her lack of self-control.

“As much as I complained about Monty’s algae, I really did forget how enjoyable it is to actually eat. I can’t believe how amazing it is to taste all these flavors.” She was talking with her mouth full again, but she didn’t think Murphy minded.

“Yeah, well don’t think this is how it’ll be in Polis. They have more variety than we did on the Ring, but it’s definitely not on par with Shallow Valley or what we could forage for here in the woods. We’ll also have to ration a little bit to make sure we have enough food & water to get through the sands. So try to fill up now - there’s more berries around here and probably more edible leaves too - we can get more in the morning.”

They chewed in a companionable silence and it wasn’t long before they were both finished and passed the canteen between them. She was surprised to notice that the water had a delicious minty tang that wasn’t there before, one that reminded her of a time that seemed a lifetime ago. Murphy must have been watching for her reaction, because he explained. “Clarke remembered how much you liked mint leaves, so she packed some for you from her own supplies.”

At that, Raven didn’t know if it was a laugh or a sob that escaped her throat. “I can’t wait to see her.” She hums and squeezes her eyes shut. She didn’t want to cry, thinking of Clarke. She turned to Murphy. “Can you believe we’re really here? That we finally got down to Earth? I know it’s not exactly going like we dreamed, but there were times I really wondered if it was ever going to happen. I actually had a few moments where I was pretty convinced it was never going to happen, did you?”

“No, not really. I always knew you’d find some way to get us back, even when you were frustrated and spent most of your days scowling at everyone. I mean, look at all the evidence that points to Raven Reyes solving problem after problem on Earth and in space. We’d all be dead a few times over if you hadn’t come up with a bunch of plans to save our asses. I don’t know why you doubted yourself.”

Raven felt her cheeks heating up at Murphy’s words. It warmed her, to know that Murphy’s trust in her abilities hadn’t wavered. “Murphy, don’t tell me you’re getting soft in your old age! That almost sounded like a compliment.”

Murphy’s lips twisted into his familiar smirk. “C’mon, Reyes, everybody knows you’re the brain of our little delinquent group, and the rest of us are just here to serve.”

She shrugs and gathers his empty plate, wiping them off with a small rag. “Who am I to pass up such devotion? Besides, I can’t help that whatever genetics I’ve got resulted in this package of fantastic.” She let her hand slide down her side as if to say, see, I just can’t help it.

His eyes followed the movement of her hand before flicking back up to her face. She wasn’t sure, with the darkness around them, but there was a glimpse of something burning in his eyes as he watched her. “And modesty too. If only we all could be so fortunate.” He abruptly rolled to his feet, gesturing off into the trees. “Head that way if you want the facilities before bed. I’m going to take watch for a while just to make sure no one’s close, but I set quite a few snares around that will make noise if they’re triggered, so we should both be able to get some rest tonight.” He wandered off into the trees without a look back.

Raven felt a little disconcerted. She and Murphy had built a solid friendship between them over the years, based on a shared love for insults, sarcasm and a willingness to be brutally honest with each other. He was dependable, unpretentious, and surprisingly funny. He made her laugh when she was taking things too seriously and she looked forward to spending time with him. They had a mutual habit of zoning out and rolling their eyes together whenever Bellamy would get up on his soapbox during the long years in space, but she knew she and Murphy both would have had some harsh words for anyone else who dared such insolence. Bellamy was like the sibling that they were allowed to mock, but no one else. Now that she thought about it, he’d really become her closest friend out of everyone on the Ring. They had come a long way since they had first met, but she wasn’t as surprised about their friendship as maybe others would have been. Even when she had had so much anger towards him for shooting her, she knew he had regretted that she had gotten caught up in his wrath, and he had tried, in his way, to make amends. She had long since forgiven him for that, and anyway, she knew her own actions towards Murphy hadn’t always been fair either.

But in hindsight, things had been more strained between she and Murphy since the last break-up between him and Emori. They had been on again and off again more times than she could count in the six years they spent in space together, and she had always played the arbitrator between the two. But then Emori had asked if she could move in to Raven’s room, and things had seemed more final than ever before. She wasn’t sure what had happened between them, but Murphy had isolated himself more and more, and while she had to laugh at his ability to ‘steal’ one whole half of the ship for himself, it had hurt that he had rebuffed her attempts to draw him out. When he had unexpectedly decided to stay behind with her while the others attempted to make it down to Earth, she had both wanted to strangle him and hug him fiercely for not leaving her alone.

Then despite the heavy responsibility on their shoulders, they had fallen back into their normal routine - having fun, hurling insults and enjoying each other’s company again. She had her friend back and she couldn’t regret that even though part of her wished he was safe on the ground with the others. And when he had told her that he’d take the burden of killing all the prisoners if it had to be done… well, she didn’t even know how to respond to that. It was an incredible gift he was giving her and she was so grateful that all the words she could think to say got stuck in her throat. Of course, everything went to shit soon after that and then sheer terror was her mindset for a while.

She shook her head, trying to shake the memories of their shared torture away. She gracelessly stood up and collected the remnants of their dinner, packing everything away into Murphy’s satchel in case they needed to make a quick getaway during the night. She limped closer to the fallen tree trunk and saw that close to the base, there was a rough hollow that had been dug out from the dirt that must have happened when the tree crashed down. It was a tight space but she could understand why Murphy had chosen it. It was impossible to see until you were practically on top of it, and even then it was camouflaged with debris. If the two of them crawled into the hole and laid down, they would disappear from sight, and it was deep enough to stay dark and conceal any movement. Raven sighed. It was definitely less appealing than the cot she had been on just the night before, but to his credit, Murphy had strewn a pile of leaves around at the bottom and then covered them with a blanket, in hopes of making it at least slightly more comfortable.

She walked off in the direction Murphy had pointed to for bathroom purposes, and when she returned, he still hadn’t made an appearance. She tossed the backpack into the hollow and lowered herself down after it. She found another folded blanket on top of the one that had been spread out, pulled it over herself in anticipation of a cold night and tried to find a cozy position. She could tell it was going to be kind of awkward once Murphy descended into the space but there was nothing to be done about it. Honestly, without the shared body heat they’d both probably suffer. She could totally be mature about it and not be on edge over having to sleep with someone else for the first time in six plus years of her life. Get a grip, Raven, she told herself. You fell asleep watching movies a few times on the Ring and you weren’t alone. Once you even woke up in the middle of the night to find that your head was on Murphy’s shoulder and you had drooled all over his shirt. But we weren’t alone then, she remembered. Emori had been on Murphy’s other side that night. Raven sighed and mentally chastised herself. It was fine and she was making a big deal about nothing. Best to just go to sleep and give her leg a rest. She pulled the blanket higher to her chin and closed her eyes.

It might have been about an hour later when Murphy cautiously crawled in next to her. Her eyes immediately shot open. She wasn’t sure if awkward even covered it - when the hell had he gotten so large? It was like he sucked up all the space available and she could swear that the temperature in the dirt-lined hideout ratcheted up sharply.

“Sorry it’s so close in here.” He whispered as he tried to settle in. “Best I could find on short notice.”

“It’s okay.” She squeaked, then licked her lips and tried again. “But I think if this is going to work, we’re both going to have to lay on our sides.” She heard Murphy hum in agreement and she rolled from her back to her right side. At least this position would also take a little weight off her left leg. She was aware of Murphy moving behind her and she felt him tug the blanket to adjust it over both of them. She realized with embarrassment that her heart was wildly hammering in her chest and she hoped he couldn’t hear it. Yeah, falling asleep like this was pretty unlikely. She felt tense all over and tried to remind herself it was only Murphy, for god’s sake.

Murphy slung his left arm around her waist and his voice rumbled low in her ear. “Alright, Reyes, let’s just both acknowledge this is a little weird. Close your eyes and pretend you’re dreaming about Roan or some shit.” And Raven literally snorted in response.

“Oh my god, Murphy, what the hell!” She half turned to look over her shoulder at him in disbelief.

“Hey, the guy was hot! Even I can admit that. Nothing wrong with a few fantasies. He liked to wear fur - lots of people like that kind of thing.” Raven burst out laughing at Murphy’s defensive justification for finding Roan sexy, but he wasn’t wrong. She moved her arm over his where it rested along her waist and pinched his wrist, her lips curled in a fond smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you like it.” And he shifted just a fraction closer, his chest pressed to her back, and she thinks to herself yes, I do like it, but she huffs indignantly instead of saying so. And as her eyes drift shut, she realizes she’s no longer tense.

*******************************

Raven wakes abruptly and is momentarily unsure of where she is. It comes back to her when she feels Murphy’s strong body stretched out behind her. She doesn’t know why she woke up so unexpectedly, considering she’s actually very comfortable and warm under the blanket and with Murphy’s arm along her waist still. But then she hears it, the sharp intake of air and the slight whine that rips from Murphy’s throat, and she realizes he must be having a nightmare. She tries to turn towards him to see if she can calm him, but his arm tenses at her hip and pins her firmly down. She uses her own arm to gently lift his, and rolls over in his embrace to face him and squeeze his shoulder. “Murphy, Murphy, it’s okay, wake up.”

His legs twitch against hers and as she repeats his name, she can feel his whole body stiffen as he suddenly wakes. She can’t see them, but Raven knows his eyes are frantic. “Hey, you must have been having a bad dream. Are you okay?” She wants to soothe him but knows her own nightmares are a sensitive subject for her, so she decides in advance not to take offense if he won’t open up.

“Sorry I woke you.” And there’s that unyielding tone in his gruff voice again, and she knows it means he doesn’t want to talk about it. “I’ll be fine.” Raven can just imagine the hard set to his jaw, his face all sharp lines and angles, so she rubs her hands along his arms, knowing it will make her feel better too.

“I have them too, you know...about lots of things.” Her voice feels thick and she squeezes her eyes shut. “About the Mountain Men taking my bone marrow… when Lexa thought I tried to poison her and then she cut me over and over...everything with A.L.I.E... what happened to Finn, to Sinclair, what I thought happened to Clarke… and I didn’t see it, but I know what happened to Luna and I miss her, I miss them all! And then I was so sc-scared of McCreary and I thought he was going to kill you...” She fists her hands to her eyes, spent, and feels Murphy gently tip her head against his shoulder, and then she can’t help it, she just sobs and the tears pour out. He rubs her back and lets her grieve, and after an inordinate amount of time, she feels like even though her eyes hurt and her throat is sore, she actually feels better somehow.

Raven sniffs self-consciously. “Well, that got out of hand. I was trying to make you feel better.”

Murphy breathes out a low sigh and the hand at her neck brushes gently through her hair. “You did make me feel better, even though I wish those things didn’t happen to you. The most important thing is that you made it through all of that, Raven, you’re alive, and you didn’t let any of those things break you. Instead of pulling you down, you took all that pain and forced it to make you stronger. It’s one of the things I admire most about you, you know, that you always get back up again.”

She wishes she could see his face, wishes he could see hers. She’s incredibly moved by his words, and just can’t help herself when she speaks softly into the darkness. “Said the cockroach to the raven.”

And Raven just knows he’s got that familiar smirk on his face when he chuckles in her ear and nudges her shoulder. “Roll over again, it’s better for your leg.” So she does what he says and turns to her right side and he follows behind her. He smoothes all the hair off her back so he won’t lay on it and his forehead dips to her shoulder as his arms enfold her once more. She impulsively presses her hand to his where it rests on her stomach and laces their fingers together. Raven squeezes once and Murphy squeezes back, and she falls asleep with a smile on her face.

****************************

When Raven wakes again, she knows it’s morning. The sun shines bright enough to filter down beneath the fallen tree, and she hears birds singing above her. Murphy’s no longer at her back, and while she feels chilly without him there, she has enough residual embarrassment from her much-needed breakdown that she’s glad she has a few moments to compose herself alone. With only one person in the hollow, there’s enough room to do some of her favorite stretches, so she gets to work. If Murphy was right and they had to stick around one more day in the woods before the window opened to cross the sands, then she could prop her leg up and hopefully take it easy, since she knew the sand crossing was going to be really tough for her physically.

She climbs out of the hideout and doesn’t spot Murphy, but after she returns from a bathroom break she does see a covered plate near the log she had her leg up on the evening before. She lifts the cloth and there’s more berries, some nuts and a root-like item that could be a plant or vegetable, she doesn’t know. It’s crunchy and a little salty and she likes it. She wonders if Murphy had packed it or found it in the forest. She needs to ask him to share some of his foraging skills so they can refill their pack.

Raven settles in with her back against a tree, puts her leg up and eats her breakfast while trying to finger comb the snarls out of her hair. She rifles through the satchel and finds the small stash of mint leaves Clarke sent for her and pops a few in her mouth once she’s finished. The taste conjures such strong memories of how she and Clarke would make a point of having a meal together as often as they could, to touch base and catch up on each of their projects and problems. She’d never had a female friend like Clarke before, and despite forging friendships with Harper, Emori and Echo on the Ring, she and Clarke had a bond that she couldn’t wait to continue. She looked up when a few leaves rustled and saw that Murphy was coming back towards their camp, a cloth sack in his hand.

“You look like you’re in a good mood this morning.” He reached into the bag and grabbed a handful of what was inside, and she could make out some purple berries instead of the remaining red berries left on her plate.

“Just thinking about how excited I am to see Clarke again. Has she changed? Does she look the same? Echo told me about Madi - did you see her in Polis?” Raven is taken aback when a grimace flits across Murphy’s face at this question.

“Oh, I met her alright, but it was in the woods soon after I left you behind. She made some crack about how she thought I’d be funnier and Octavia was her favorite. Apparently Clarke’s told her stories.” Murphy actually lifted his hands and put air quotes around “stories”, and Raven knew immediately that Murphy was offended that Madi didn’t choose him as her favorite. She laughed so hard that her eyes watered, and at his annoyed expression she figured she should appease him.

“Look at it this way - for Madi to assume you’d be ‘funnier’, that at least has to mean that Clarke told her you were funny to begin with. And you had just been tortured almost to the point of death, so it’s a given you weren’t at your best.” Raven meant the words somewhat tongue in cheek, but Murphy obviously was placated by them and brightened, which made Raven snort but she tried to cover it up into a cough instead.

Murphy sent a concerned look her way, but when she returned to calmly wiping off the plate from her breakfast, he pulled out a map from his shirt pocket. “From what Clarke told me, I figure we need to head out tomorrow around five or six in the morning. If we start that early we can probably rest during the hottest part of the day. That means we’ve got to top off our food and water supplies by tonight as well as make sure no one’s tracking us.”

Raven’s mouth pursed a little with frustration and she looked at him with worry in her eyes. “Murphy… I hate to admit it, but I’m concerned with how I’m going to function, trying to trudge through the sand with my leg. I think the shock collar might have damaged some of the nerves in my lower back and leg again, and I’ve been having trouble adjusting quickly to the uneven ground down here. For years I’ve been walking on smooth & level surfaces on the Ring, and it’s going to take me longer than a few days to get a feeling of balance back.” She was relieved when Murphy’s expression didn’t change to any kind of pity, but instead looked thoughtful.

“I could tell your leg was bothering you, but I thought it was all due to the shock collar. I didn’t make the connection to the rough surfaces down here… the sand is probably going to be an issue then, at least until you’re more used to this terrain. It wouldn’t really be a problem how fast we move, but for now we’re on a time limit because of the sandstorms Clarke’s told me about.” He stood and paced around the trees in front of her, clearly focused on a solution to her problem. He shrugged. “We don’t have to cross the whole desert area. I’ve already passed through it with Emori and on the way back here for you, and Clarke’s done it enough times to know how to do it right. It’s not a horrible trip, just hot and gritty. I could just carry you when you get too tired.”

Raven rolled her eyes. “No, you cannot ‘just carry me’. What if we’re being followed or something goes wrong? I’m not exactly a feather, nitwit. Besides, I have a better idea.”

“Yes, please inform the nitwit of your perfect plan, oh wise one!” Murphy drawled, voice thick with sarcasm.

“Okay, okay, I laid that one on a little thick. If you can find some branches of consistent size, I can make a stretcher of sorts with one of the blankets and some of the rope I saw in the pack. It would mean potentially pulling me over the sand when I can’t do it anymore, but it’ll be less strain than carrying all my weight.”

“Alright, I’ll get on that, but while I go look for branches and scout more berries or leaves, you can’t sit out here alone. I want you to go back under the tree until I return.”

“Ugh, Murphy, I don’t want to do that.” Raven whined, and yeah, she realized she was being ridiculous but she had the knife and the gun he had given her, and she knew how to use them.

“Do you think I care more about your safety or what you want? You’re not gonna win this one either, so you might as well just suck it up.” There was that obstinate Murphy tone again. He had the gall to look at her somewhat innocently, but he must have seen the frustration on her face. “Look, I made it appear like we went towards the caves, but I don’t know who Diyoza sent after you. There might be a few smarter ones who won’t fall for the fake trail, and you just admitted to me that your leg isn’t at its best. No way I’m gonna leave you here for some criminal to sneak up on you while I’m not on guard. We don’t have a saw and it might take me awhile to find fallen branches that are long enough and sturdy enough for a stretcher. Can you please just humor me here, Reyes?”

And at that ‘please’, she knows she’s giving in. But that doesn’t mean she has to make it easy, so she huffs at Murphy like he’s the most unreasonable man she’s ever met, and that might not be too far from the truth anyway, come to think of it. She makes a point to grumble under her breath as she collects the plate and makes sure she doesn’t leave anything else around where she was sitting, and shuffles over to the hideout yet again. Before she can climb under, Murphy’s hand glides along her shoulder in a firm stroke. Raven stills and his hand doesn’t move away as he demonstrates the bird call he’ll give when he comes back into range so she’ll know it’s him.

“I’m gonna add a few dead branches around this opening and use some leaves to sweep over any footprints we’ve left around here, then I’ll be off. You can’t fall asleep, Raven, promise me. If you hear anything without the bird call then you know it’s not me and you have to be prepared to kill whoever it is, okay?”

“Murphy, your overprotectiveness is bordering on preposterous right now, you know that, right? I’m totally capable of sitting in a hole, being quiet and waiting for you. And if it comes to it, of course I’m gonna kill whoever I have to. I am not without skills.” She reached up and patted the hand that still rested on her shoulder with her own to reassure him.

“Yeah, I know I’m being an idiot right now. I’m actually embarrassed for myself.” His grip tightened on her shoulder and he seemed to take a moment to compose himself. His eyes found hers and there was an awful, lost glint in them. “I could hear you screaming the whole time, and I couldn’t get to you even though I tried, I tried. I can’t let that happen again.”

Immediately, she knew he meant what McCreary had done to her. It must have been horrible for him to hear her - the agony she had felt had been brutal, and she’s sure he heard that from her screams. She desperately threw her arms around his waist, crushing herself to his chest and wishing she could just knock the memory right out of him. “It wasn’t your fault, Murphy, don’t think about that. You did help me - as soon as you came in the room I didn’t get shocked any more. Last night you said it, that I got through it and I’m still alive and so are you! And with McCreary, this time we got through it together. We got through it, it’s done. Don’t give that nightmare more energy.” She felt him shudder against her and knew that if McCreary was still alive when they got to Polis, she might just kill him herself.

Murphy steadied himself and she could practically see the determination in his posture. Raven nudged his chest with her head and he grunted in response, telling her in his way that he’d be alright. But his arms were still too unyielding around her and she knew the moment needed some levity to help him relax, so she forced a smug tone into her voice. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say someone had been taking some detailed notes during a few of Bellamy’s more dramatic moments.”

Murphy let out a half irritated, half amused “Fuck you, Reyes!” And bullseye, she had hit her target.

She twisted out of his arms and back towards the hole where she’d be spending the next few hours alone, and cheerfully called out. “Yeah, I know, everybody wants to.”

And because she wasn’t watching, she missed the look of desire that flashed across Murphy’s face.

****************************

The rest of the day passed by without incident. Raven did her best with some yoga moves in the confined space, though she was bored, and Murphy eventually returned with the branches and more of the berries, leaves and odd plant root/vegetable that Raven had eaten that morning. Raven had quietly worked on tying the branches to each other to make the stretcher while Murphy catnapped beside her.

They ate a small dinner, and Raven had expressed her unease that they hadn’t seen any Eligius trackers after them. Murphy had explained that they wouldn’t have known that she knew which area of the forest was closest to the sands, and that by now, there were multiple trails in the trees created by him, Echo, Monty, Harper, Emori and even Madi and the Rover. Add to that Murphy’s false trails to the caves and maybe she didn’t need to worry about it after all. Then, after dinner, Murphy left their camp briefly and came back with some of the same purple berries from the morning, and a few large green leaves that she hadn’t seen before.

He used two of the sandwiched leaves to crush some of the berries, and he let the juice that was released run into his cupped hand. He pinched some dirt into the berry juice and stirred it with his finger until it turned into a sort of paste. “This is easier with a bowl, but do you remember how members of Trikru would paint their faces, especially around the eyes?”

“Of course. Lexa always looked pretty wicked when she did that.”

Murphy laughed. “Yeah, she did look intense. But it’s for more than just intimidation. It’s going to help our eyes adjust to the bright sunlight over the sand, and it’ll help cut down the glare, making it easier to see anyone or anything in the distance. I forgot about this on the hike here and my eyes watered the whole time. Plus, and this might not matter to your lovely coffee colored skin, but it’ll help my pale face not to burn.” His eyebrow raised in a mocking way and he gestured for her to add to the paste in his hand. “We don’t have a mirror, so use what’s here and paint some around my eyes, then I’ll do you. We won’t have time in the morning unless we get up even earlier. And don’t make mine girly.”

Raven squealed with naughty glee. “That’s true, we don’t have a mirror. So how will you know if yours ends up girly or not?”

“I’ll know.” Murphy growled, and though she was so tempted, she figured Bellamy would just tattle on her when they reached Polis. She mixed more of the crushed berries and dirt in Murphy’s palm, and set to work. As she painted a mask on Murphy’s face, she noticed he kept his eyes closed while her fingers drifted across his skin, and she felt a little more daring, knowing he probably wouldn’t look at her when she asked something she’d been wondering about for a while now.

“Murphy… can I ask you something?”

“You can ask.” His voice was brusque, but she bit her lip and pressed on.

“When we were on the Ring, after you and Emori broke up and you isolated yourself away from the rest of us, how come you kept ignoring me every time I tried to come talk to you?”

She watched him take a heavy breath but his eyes stayed shut. “I was too stuck in my head then. None of it was personal, but I was in a bad place mentally. I don’t do so well being closed in, without things to distract me from my mind taking over. I read everything at least 100 times over up there, just trying to stave it all off. And that’s exactly what space was for me - suffocating and didn’t keep me busy enough to stay outta my own head. Emori and I got together for the right reasons, but we stayed together for the wrong ones. We care about each other but I made her my distraction, my focus, and that wasn’t healthy for either of us. It’s why we worked better on the ground, why I work better on the ground. Because here there’s always something to do, to solve, to distract, to interest me. It’s not the same thing all the time like it was up there. I’m honestly surprised it took me that long to finally crack.” Her fingers continued to shade in the dark berry juice, and she thought about what he confessed.

“Could I have helped you?” She finally said out loud.

Murphy opened his eyes and she could see the truth in them. “I think you could have, but I wouldn’t have let you.” She nodded slowly, understanding that he had been more broken towards the end of their time on the Ring than she had thought.

“It’s a good thing we got out of there then.” She smoothed the last of the berry paste under his eye and over his nose. “You look like some kind of masked bandit, but it’s unknown whether you’re the hero or the villain of the piece.”

He smirked at her. “Perfect then, since I never know myself.” He wiped his hand on the grass and grabbed her palm. “Hold this out and I’ll make more for you.” After he mixed more of the crushed berries, he deliberately swiped it under her eyebrow and she closed her own eyes in response. He labored silently for a little while and she enjoyed the ticklish feel of the berry paste drying on her skin.

“When I left you behind with Shaw, it didn’t take me that long to find Echo and the rest in the woods. They were definitely watching for us. We all got in the Rover and headed towards Bellamy to warn him, but during the drive the shock collar kicked in. Monty, that adorable softy, wanted to try and take it off right then, but you know Echo’s the voice of reason who told him we didn’t have time.” Raven smiled at that, knowing the description of both their friends was correct.

Murphy continued. “I got out and told them to go on without me, but I was surprised that Emori chose to stay behind too. She had some tools with her, because you know you nagged her to do it until she listened. And lucky for me that you did, because she managed to get the collar off. But not without a few shocks first, FYI. It was okay though, because we talked a little while she was working on getting it off. Unfortunately, we got boxed in by McCreary and that’s when we put together that small bomb that killed ‘em all off except that fucker.” She knew her own jaw clenched when he mentioned that name, and she felt his thumb sweep over her chin to ease her. “When the bomb successfully went off, I think we were both excited that it worked. I don’t really know which one of us moved first but we kissed. It was only when Emori noticed McCreary moving that we stopped. And I surprised the hell out of myself because I realized I was relieved we stopped. I think that’s what happened too many times before - we both just fell back into habits with each other. This time we’re broken up for good and we both know it, and we’re both okay with that finally.”

Raven opened her eyes since Murphy had stopped painting. “You know Emori is my friend too. I want you both to be happy. If the two of you couldn’t get along, I’d be pretty sad about it, but I’d keep trying to at least get you to make up enough that you could be in the same room together. It’s better for all of us if you can do that on your own though.”

“Kinda like what you want to happen with Bellamy and Echo, isn’t it?” Raven’s eyes widen at Murphy’s sly question. Damned if that wasn’t something she’d been trying to avoid thinking about once the ramifications of hearing Clarke’s voiced had flickered through her brain.

“Murphy, you are far more in tune with things than people give you credit for, you sneaky little romantic!” Raven accused him.

“Hey now, don’t go blowing my rude jackass cover! I like pissing people off! But clearly… Bellamy and Clarke have been making heart eyes at each other since the Dropship all those years ago. No matter how much he protested, those two were never ‘just friends.’”

“Oh. My. God. I am never going to let you live this down. You said ‘heart eyes’ and you weren’t even being facetious! What is happening right now? Who are you and what have you done with the real John Murphy?” Raven thought it was hilarious that of all people, Murphy was actually rooting for Bellamy and Clarke. And he pretended to be so careless all the time! She knew he was just a big softy underneath all those thorns!

Murphy laughed along with her and used the last of the berry mixture to make two little whorls just under her eyes and curving in towards her cheeks. “There. Pretty wicked. Let’s clean up camp and get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow.” Raven found herself hoping that the berry juice would stain for a while. She wanted to see herself in a mirror, of course, but there was no denying Murphy looked good with eye makeup.

*************************

Murphy had put all their supplies in reach and had camouflaged the stretcher up in a nearby tree. Even she could barely spot it and she had known it was there. The air had turned cooler than the previous night and by the time she crawled into their tiny bunker, her skin was covered in goosebumps. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself and marvelled that tomorrow afternoon, she’d probably be sweating profusely in the bright sun.

Raven stretched out in the small space while she was alone. It was hard to believe that so much had happened in what had been only a few days. Although she and Murphy were technically ‘on the run’, the quieter time together had allowed her a much needed decompression period. She counted Murphy as a friend long before this, probably even her best friend, but there was no denying they had grown closer since he chose to stay on the Eligius with her. She laughed bleakly to herself. Guess joint fear and a shared torture session go a long way towards weaving a stronger bond. Yet it was more than that, she knew. Murphy was clearly on to something when he told her that he did better on the ground instead of being closed up in space. He seemed more open, more relaxed even, despite the danger they had been in since they landed on Earth. Maybe it was like when she got caught up in a project, where everything was flowing and she knew she was doing what she did best… maybe Murphy had finally gotten back to the environment where he felt right.

She thought in particular about how he seemed more agreeable to physical touch on the ground as well, but she supposed that probably applied to her too. Raven considered herself to be an affectionate person, but she had experienced more hugs and contact with Murphy and Abby in the last couple of days than the entire six years she had spent in space - well, outside of exercise or the sparring lessons with Echo, anyway. Why had she denied that part of herself when she was clearly enjoying it so much now? She deflated a bit when she realized that she hadn’t liked to acknowledge it, but she often felt like a lonely seventh wheel on the Ring. Yeah, Bellamy and Echo hadn’t gotten together until the first three years had passed, but everyone had seemed so coupled up. Despite having slept with Bellamy a million years ago, that had been a one-time thing that honestly was more an act of revenge on her part, not major interest. Sure, she wasn’t blind - Bellamy was definitely hot - but in her mind, he was Clarke’s, and even though she didn’t know Clarke was still alive, she just didn’t think about him like that. And okay, maybe there had been one or two interesting dreams about Monty, but for god’s sake there were only three men on the Ring for six years, after all, and a girl had needs. She loved him and Harper together and there was nothing real about her thoughts. The couple had always made her feel welcome in their company and they deserved so much happiness after everything they had gone through.

Raven didn’t know if Murphy had somehow examined her private thoughts or what, but he had actually hit the nail on the head when he teased her about dreaming of Roan. The King of Azgeda was almost always the star of her sexual fantasies when she had needed a release, and it was easy for her to understand why. Roan had been crazy attractive, and she didn’t actually know him very well, so she could imagine his personality any way she wanted to. And if Luna had turned up amongst some of those fantasies too? Well, that was nobody’s business except her own.

But never, not once, had she thought about Murphy that way. Realizing that felt strange, somehow. How could she not have had a sexual dream about him when they were stuck in space for so long together? Her forehead scrunched in concentration as she considered this new thought. It wasn’t that she didn’t find him attractive, because again, she wasn’t blind. He had those expressive, compelling blue eyes that got an evil little glint in them right before he opened his mouth and said something horrible and offensive but also probably true. And he had that face with all those hard lines and sharp edges that somehow came together in such an appealing way. She liked that she had to tilt her head to look up at him when they stood near each other, she liked that she could always be herself with him, she liked the way he nagged her to have a little fun when she got too deep into her work, she liked all their inside jokes, she liked that she could get mad at him and he could get mad at her but they never held a grudge, she liked that they both got annoyed by the same things and their eyes would meet and they could have a whole conversation about it without saying a word, she liked that sexy little smirk he had and the way it would send a coil of heat through her blood, and Oh My Fucking God! She was the stupidest fucking genius on the planet! Raven dropped her head to her hands as she realized she had never had a sex dream about Murphy because she had never let herself.

This… this was definitely confusing. She was friends with Emori. She was friends with Murphy. And they had been a couple on the Ring, even though a lot of it was on and off. And she didn’t ever think about Murphy like that because Raven was a friend, and a good one. She would never have done anything about her feelings, so she had compartmentalized them so much that she hadn’t even fully acknowledged how she felt inside her own head. But now they were practically exploding through her brain with the obviousness of them and damn, she guessed she was sort of blind for not seeing it sooner. How had she missed this when it now seemed so noticeable as she thought back over their interactions together? Had she been flirting with Murphy as much as her memories now seemed to suggest? “She doesn’t know you like I do” suddenly ran on a loop through her brain. And oh my god, worse - better? - had Murphy been flirting with her sometimes? Fuck, she wished she could talk to Clarke right now.

She looked up guiltily when she heard Murphy climb down, but it had gotten dark enough outside to mean that it was gloomy in the dirt covered walls of their hideout, and she was glad for that slight reprieve. He lay down again behind her, but on his back and without touching this time. “You okay?” She sensed the concern in his voice, and she flashed back to that moment right after she’d pleaded for his life.

“Yep.” She managed to lie without a crack in her voice, but she knew he wasn’t going to buy it. “Everything’s all...it’s just been a lot.” That part was certainly the truth.

He edged closer and in one fluid movement, he rolled to his right side and pulled her back into his chest, then gently nudged one of his legs between hers. Raven no longer felt cold but she didn’t know if this feverish heat now running through her veins was actually an improvement. His arm moved beneath the blanket and she could tell he was touching the brace on her leg.

“Would your leg feel better if we took the brace off tonight? Does massage help your nerve pain or increase it?”

“If I take the brace off, I won’t be able to get up without help, and I won’t have much mobility until I put it back on again. In space I used to take it off every night, but since we went to the Eligius and came down here, I haven’t done that because I’ve been afraid I’ll need to move without much warning. I’m not really sure whether the nerves can get better in any way. I mean, I rub my leg down myself but I’ve never noticed that it makes it ache less.”

“That’s something we should talk to Abby about, but I think we both want your leg to be in better shape for tomorrow, so let’s at least take the brace off so you get some relief. I’d do it for you but it’s hard to see in here and you’re more familiar with the latches.”

Raven leaned down and removed the brace and placed it alongside the pack. She shivered as the blanket slipped down and she lost the heat from Murphy’s body. She was torn - the realisation that she was attracted to Murphy in a sexual way both made her want to nuzzle closer to him as well as wish she had more privacy to sort out her feelings. The decision was made for her though, when Murphy reached up and encircled her wrist and pulled her back down against him. Her heart thudded in her chest and she hoped it wasn’t as loud as she feared it was. She bit her lip and tried to relax, but there was no ignoring his strong body pressed tightly behind her. Murphy’s leg had taken up its previous spot between hers, and the urge to shift her hip to get a little closer was so tempting. It was going to be a very long night, and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to end up making a fool of herself.

“Reyes. I can practically hear how hard you’re thinking. Turn your brain off and get some sleep.” Murphy’s deep murmur served to bring her to her senses, and as his muscular arm around her waist drew her closer, she couldn’t help the little hum of satisfaction that escaped from her throat.

“Goodnight, Murphy.”

Goodnight, Raven.”

***************************

Without warning, Raven awoke to a feeling of absolute panic. The darkness felt ominous around her and she was pinned down by a heavy body on top of hers and a tight hand was across her mouth. Her heart rate accelerated but as soon as she started to struggle, lips grazed her ear and a gravelly whisper that she felt more than heard rumbled through her. “Quiet. Don’t move.”

The knowledge that it was Murphy above her and not some faceless stranger had her body almost melting with relief, and she relaxed underneath him. Murphy’s body, however, was taut like a bowstring and was almost vibrating with tension. She strained her ears, trying to hear what had him on such high alert. She listened for what felt like ages but all she could hear was the rough sound of his breathing close to her ear, and the pounding of her heart at both the seriousness of the situation and the way that Murphy’s body covered hers. He was levered up over her on his forearms, and his forehead rested right near her temple. She closed her eyes and would not think about the way his hips tilted into hers. Absolutely would not. Damn it, now was not the time for her to become some kind of wanton damsel in distress, she told herself.

She knew Murphy wouldn’t be acting like this unless there was a very real threat present, and she refused to be the reason something went wrong. She felt Murphy’s chest flatten down into her as he stretched his arm over her head then brought it back towards her side. He pressed the sturdy knife into her palm, then reached up again and she felt the small gun he had given her when they first escaped from Abby’s clinic join the knife. His mouth returned to her ear and she couldn’t help but shiver when he breathed out harshly “Stay. Kill anything that comes in here unless you hear my bird call.”

Raven nodded frantically and struggled to find his hand in the darkness. She clenched it in a hard squeeze before letting him go. With a quick rush of movement, Murphy was up and out of their burrow and she was left alone in the pitch black. She tried to calm her agitated breathing and deliberately forced her body to relax. She silently slid her foot towards her leg brace and managed to drag it close enough for her hand to grab. It was a risk fumbling around to put it on, but she wouldn’t be able to get up without it, and Echo had taught her that in a fight, she needed to put her body weight behind her attack. Raven had to prepare for whatever might come down into the hole, and she couldn’t let her worry for Murphy distract her.

***********************

It seemed like hours, it must have been hours, that she’s been waiting for either a fight to the death or a sound from Murphy, and the mental strain has taken a toll. Raven’s fingers grip the knife handle so tightly that she can’t even unwrap them anymore unless she uses her other hand to pry them apart. Her whole body is stressed with the fight or flight sensation and she has no idea if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that it’s taking so long. It’s still full night out - she has no idea what time it could be, but she knows they went to bed early and maybe she hadn’t slept that long before being awoken with Murphy’s hand covering her mouth. Regardless, she’s full of adrenaline now no matter how late it is. She makes the effort to strain her ears again to try and hear something, anything - the crunch of leaves, the crack of a twig being stepped on, the sound of fighting... And that’s when it comes, but she can’t be sure she didn’t just imagine the sound out of a desire for it to be real. She cocks her head and hopes it will ring out again, and it does, that stupid whistling bird call, and she feels her legs tremble with relief. The call happens a few more times as he gets closer, and finally he drops down into their hideaway, taking up all the space again and landing just shy of where she’s pressed against the carved out side wall.

Raven wants to reach for him, she does, but her body won’t respond, it’s frozen and she just ends up letting out a pained whimper instead. She feels his hand slide down her arm and carefully disengage her fingers from the knife, and there’s a dull thud as it lands in the dirt. Murphy places both hands on her shoulders and firmly pushes her low enough where she can sink to the floor, then he sits beside her and draws her hands and legs into his lap as he rubs her fingers.

“You let yourself get too stiff. This is probably gonna hurt at first.” And oh, it does hurt, the pins and needles pricking under her skin, but that doesn’t matter right now so she licks her lips and tries to talk but her throat feels tight and there are cramps in her legs and the way Murphy’s rubbing her hands is making them sting so bad and she needs to know how he can be so calm and is he injured and what happened out there in the woods? She elbows him in the stomach with the arm that’s closest to him, letting him know she’s impatient.

He leans forward over her arms and thighs and stretches to reach his pack. He pulls out the canteen and takes a long swallow before putting it to her lips and tipping it up for her to drink, then he resumes the massage on her palms and out to each finger. “I don’t know how long we were asleep, but I think I woke because I heard one of the noise traps I put up on the outskirts of camp. I rolled on you and covered your mouth to make sure you didn’t speak when I climbed out, and once I was on the ground, I got lucky and heard leaf movement so I followed in that direction. That guy wasn’t good at covering his tracks so I found him pretty fast. I wasn’t sure if there was anyone else so I circled back to see if you were still hidden and you were. But a few of the landmarks around camp were disturbed so I thought there might be at least one more. That guy was better. It took awhile. Then I waited to make sure he was the last one. I didn’t want to come back here if it wasn’t safe. ”

Raven could move her fingers again thanks to his ministrations, and she could feel the other scratchy blanket was wadded up behind her. She unfurled it and this time she maneuvered Murphy down so he laid on his back as she smoothed the blanket on top of him. Her legs twinged in protest, but she needed to stretch out and they both needed comfort from the other. She slid under the cover and tucked her head under his chin, along his left side so she could listen to his heartbeat. His arms curled around her and her hand fisted in his shirt. They lay like that for a long time in the hushed darkness, but Raven knew neither of them slept.

Eventually Murphy spoke, but the words seemed dragged out of him. “I killed them both.”

She nodded and tilted her head up towards him, though she could barely see his face. “I know.” She moved her hand to rub circles on his forearm.

Moments later, he continued. “I stalked them through the woods and it was like I remembered how to do everything from before. I slit their throats without a second thought.”

Raven sat up with a hand on his chest and looked down at him fiercely. “I know. And I’m glad you did. I’m glad you killed them and I won’t be sorry for it. They wanted to take me back to Diyoza and I would have been just another pawn for her to use in these terrible war games, and they would have killed you if they could. I won’t let you feel guilty for protecting me, for protecting us. We’re fighters, Murphy, you and me both, and we’ll do whatever we have to because I can’t lose you.”

His hand snakes up and tangles in the hair at the nape of her neck, slowly tugging her towards him until she feels his warm breath on her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere without you.” Then finally, amazingly, his lips are on hers and she can’t think, she can’t breathe, it’s like all her nerve endings have suddenly sparked awake. Her blood thrums through her veins and she’s on fire and this is just a kiss and his hand moves to cradle her head and then he suddenly rolls her so she’s underneath him. And later, she’s going to think about that move and let it do things to her, but for now she just mewls in her throat as his mouth devours her and trails kisses along her jawline towards her neck and every sensation feels so new, it’s been so long, and he’s already got her craving more more more. There’s one hand knotted in her hair and the other has slithered down to her hip and he’s caressing the bare skin there underneath her shirt and damn it everywhere he touches is burning and making her want. She feels his teeth scrape her neck and she moans and her hips just buck up into his and she feels him smile wickedly against her hot skin. His mouth skims up to her earlobe and he bites down then sucks it between his lips and this kind of torment is what’s going to be the end of her, she knows it, but she can’t care when his breath ghosts over her ear and he practically purrs at her. “Tell me you want me to kiss you, Raven.”

And oh, of course, of course that devilish mouth of his has to get involved. She slides her hands under his shirt and scrapes her nails up his chest just hard enough to make him shudder and she doesn’t recognize her own voice when she tells him “You know I do.” Like a reward for her confession, Murphy nips and sucks his way back to her lips and the way he kisses her makes her forget her own name. His chest presses against hers and she wants more of his skin, she needs to feel more of him. She pushes his jacket off his shoulders as their tongues fight for dominance, and she wraps her leg around his hip as she tries to yank his shirt off. He rears up on his knees and pulls it over his head and she can see his pale skin gleam in the trace moonlight that has filtered into their shelter. She wishes it were brighter so she could see how their skin looked together but for now she leans forward and licks a stripe up Murphy’s chest and she swears he actually growls at her as he ensnares both her wrists in one hand and lays her back against the blanket covered dirt floor. He raises her hands above her head as he attacks her mouth again and the heat radiating from his body is like a fever he’s so hot and she had no idea how much she’d like having her hands pinned, how did he even know but she’s got to get these clothes off and get closer to him. So she writhes beneath him and lifts her breasts into his chest and his free hand brushes over her stomach where his thumb rubs a circle around her belly button then glides over to her hip and pulls her harder against him. And this is crazy that she’s so worked up and hasn’t even got any of her clothes off yet and hurry hurry please take them off, she bites down on his bottom lip just enough to make him tighten his grip around her wrists and the hand on her hip slowly slowly moves to the zipper on her jacket and tugs it down. Her hands stay pinned and now he’s almost fucking lazily sucking along her collarbone and she takes a gulp of air and whines at him. “Damn it, Murphy, hurry up.”

He leans up and over her and his nose nuzzles her ear. “It’s cute that you think you’re in charge right now.” The pulsing heat at her core is throbbing so hard she thinks she might come just from the bossy rasp of his voice at her ear and how did she never imagine that it could be like this but he makes it even better by finally, finally getting her jacket over her arms followed by her shirt and there’s just her tank top left. He leans back down to capture her lips again and her arms go around his waist and just when it starts to get deliciously sloppy he pulls back and runs his fingers down her arm making her shiver, and he hisses in her ear again just to drive her mad. “I know how much you like having a well-thought out plan. Maybe I should tell you what I’m planning to do to you so you know what to expect.” And fuck, her panties are just soaked, he’s never going to let her live this down but god yes she wants him to tell her every naughty thing he wants to do to her.

“If you ask me nicely, Raven, I’ll tell you.” She can feel that sinful smirk of his on her neck, and damn that rotten bastard, he wants her to beg him. His hands run along the hem of her tank top and without warning he whips it up and over her head and then his body is surrounding her and he is scorching her with his heat and she will give him whatever he wants just to keep his skin against hers.

She moves her lips up his neck and licks a path over to his chin, then lets herself get distracted for a moment at his ear. She runs her hands up his back and shoulders and pulls his head down towards hers. But she stops him just before their lips meet. When she speaks, her lips graze his and her voice is rough with desire. “Please tell me what you’re going to do to me, John.” She knows he likes when she breathes his name because his hands grip harder in her hair and on her neck and his mouth slants hard against hers. His hand on her neck glides down to her breast and his thumb rubs over her nipple. She almost screams at the sensation and how it sends an answering quiver straight to her sex. He bends his head and licks the other nipple and then all the way up her neck to her ear, all the while his hand in her hair tilts her head back and his other thumb rubs her breast. “First I’m going to make you come with my fingers. Then I’m going to taste you and feel you come on my tongue. And then I’m going to fuck the hell out of you and you’re going to come all over my cock.”

As he whispers out his carnal words, Raven gasps and goes taut then flies apart in his arms. Her heart is thudding so hard she knows he can hear it and she can hardly breathe that was so intense and holy fuck he is a filthy wicked man and she has hit the damn jackpot. He’s going to be so, so smug about this but she’ll let him because oh he had every right to be conceited.

Murphy lifts her thigh higher around his hip and rubs himself against her and she can feel the hot hard length of him through her clothes. “You didn’t follow my plan.” He accuses her, but she can hear the tease in his voice.

She squirms against him and she knows he can feel the wetness that has soaked through everything she’s still wearing and she hears his smothered groan. She uses her hands to unbutton his pants and lifts herself up to bite his shoulder, then pulls him by the hair down demandingly towards her neck. “Maybe you better punish me so I learn my lesson.”

“Oh, fuck yes, Raven.”

And then there’s no more talking for a while.

**************************************

It’s not long before dawn and Raven should feel tired, but she wakes early and actually feels rested for a change, not to mention completely and bonelessly relaxed. She blushed as she remembers how many times Murphy made her come and she wished they could ignore everything else and stay naked in their bunker all day, but she wriggles over in Murphy’s arms until she’s facing him so she can wake him up. In the thin light she can make out the berry juice mask, dark around his eyes, and she grinned as the sight of it sent a bolt of lust through her. She nibbles his chin and her hands play with the hair at the nape of his neck and he stretched alongside her as he grumbles. “It’s too damn early.”

“You know we have to start going through the sands today, much as I’d like to stay here.”

Murphy’s blue eyes opened and regarded her solemnly. “Raven, last night when we first started kissing, I wanted to pause and ask if you were sure you wanted to keep going. We weren’t exactly starting with clear heads after what went down, and I didn’t want you to regret anything. But I wanted you too much and I let myself be selfish instead and didn’t stop to ask you.”

She has to swallow past the lump in her throat when he looks at her like that. “Murphy… it’s sweet of you to feel that way but I was there with you, you know. I wasn’t exactly stopping you, either. I’m a big girl, and I knew what I was doing. I think it was obvious I wanted you too. I’m not the kind of person to go along with something if I don’t want to do it, am I? For the record, I don’t even remotely regret having amazing sex with you last night, got it?” She was relieved to see that her words seemed to convince him as he got an amused look on his face.

“Well if we’re going on record, I’d like it noted that I think we should do that again. And again. And then a million more times after that.”

Raven leaned up and murmured mischievously in his ear. “Just try and stop me.” But before he could grab her, she playfully yanked the blanket off him. “Now c’mon and get your gorgeous ass up! I can’t wait to see Clarke!”

*************************

It took them over two days to get across the blazing wasteland, much of it with Murphy pulling her on the stretcher almost like a sled. Trying to keep her balance on the shifting sands was impossible, and they realized that sand getting into the metal joints of her brace would be a nightmare, so she took it off and wrapped it in one of the blankets and resolved not to let herself get too frustrated about being helpless. Their food supply was actually pretty decent but they made a point of rationing the water, and when they took a break, Murphy would bury one end of the stretcher in the sand so it stood above them, then he’d lash a blanket to the supports to make something of a lean-to where there was a little shade. Other than the constant grit of the sand, the fiery sun and her inability to walk on her own, the journey could have been almost pleasant if not for Murphy’s constant worry about some kind of sandworm attack. He wouldn’t let them stay in one place for long and she didn’t know the details of what these sandworms could do, but if Murphy was concerned about it, they were probably pretty bad.

When they finally reached the compacted dirt that surrounded Polis, Raven strapped her brace back on and they made their way towards the toppled tower. Monty was the first to see them and he called out for the others. He and Harper enveloped her in a big hug and she was surprised to feel tears sting in her eyes. Emori grabbed her next. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Raven squeezed her firmly in return. “I knew you would get them down safely. I’m so proud of you.” Emori beamed at her and turned to tell Murphy that she was glad he didn’t die, and Raven could see Bellamy and Clarke coming towards them.

Bellamy reached her first and lifted her off the ground in a huge bear hug. “I knew he’d find a way to get you out. We missed you around here.”

“I missed you too. And yeah, he was kind of a badass, but don’t tell him or it’ll go to his head.” Bellamy laughed, especially because Murphy was close enough to hear her remark, but now Clarke was standing in front of her and all Raven could do was stare.

She didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly they lunged together and were holding on tight, and there was no stopping the tears and sobs from either of them.

Bellamy sidled up to Murphy and bumped his shoulder as they both watched the happy reunion. “So I guess the hero thing is working out, huh? Although I can’t wait to hear how you convinced her to leave Echo, Abby and Kane behind.”

Murphy scoffs fondly at him. “Fuck you, Bellamy. I am very charming and you know it.”

Clarke and Raven finally pull apart and Clarke grabs her hand. “Raven, I want you to come meet Madi.” They start to walk off together and Raven throws a glance and a radiant smile over her shoulder to make sure Murphy is coming along.

Bellamy and Murphy fall into step behind the two. Bellamy raises an eyebrow at Murphy. “That’s an interesting development.”

Murphy smirks but his eyes are happy. “Yeah, it is. Now fill me in - did you propose to Clarke yet?”

********************************

Whelp, I’m finally done. My goal was to get it posted by 5x08 and I’m cutting it close but I did it! These characters really have me in their orbit. I hope you enjoyed my version of my two favorites. I know I had fun writing it and it’s my first long story ever at 18k words. Considering it’s only my third story ever (and first sex scene), I’m excited about it and hope to stay inspired to write more. Hope to get an AO3 account soon. Just as a small aside, I’m going to assume that there’s birth control happening in this world and they had access to it. In real life, practice safe sex habits, everyone!

#murven #raven reyes #john murphy #fanfic

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creative-frequency · 4 years

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Cal Kestis x Reader: DEAR STAR SYSTEM Ch. 03

Word count: 2945 Pairing: Cal Kestis x Female Reader Summary/Contains: First visit to Zeffo. Who am I kidding it’s just straight to lovers at this point. Let’s forget the friends first part. Mild angst, (partial) canon-rewrite. Notes: I struggled with the last scene, writing it over and over and editing it so many times but I think it finally (hopefully) conveys what I want now. Tagged some people either cause you asked for it or cause I thought you’d enjoy this. Lmk if you want to be tagged or not!

Previous Chapter

My Writing Masterlist

DEAR STAR SYSTEM // 03

“Ah, Zeffo. My favorite place,” Greez says dreamily and relaxes in his pilot’s chair.

The Mantis takes off from Bogano soil and you sit down, pretending to be focused on the map hovering on the holotable. Cal sits on the other side, equally preoccupied. You try not to look at him while knowing, feeling, that he’s definitely taking glances at you. BD-1 hops over to the holotable to have a better look at the planet you’re heading to.

Before you can think of anything to say to Cal, Greez has a story to tell.

“When this is all over, I think it’ll be a time to settle down, you know?” he continues, “Fall in love, start a family.” He sounds like Zeffo is exactly the planet he wants to spend his retirement days on.

You bite your lip and see how confused Cal is trying to make sense of the Latero. Greez is in one of those moods again.

“Love? You?” Cere voices out in bafflement.

“Yeah? You think a guy like me doesn’t know love?” Greez retorts slightly dejected.

“I bet you’re going to tell me,” Cere says, smiling.

You have to hide your grin behind your hand. Cere hasn’t had the pleasure of hearing about Greez’s adventures because she didn’t join you on that cantina trip on Tatooine. Cal gets up to lean to the cockpit doorway to hear better and even BD-1 turns around to listen and tilts his head.

Greez told you the story before after one too many and some bad situational judgment. There was someone he called the Baroness. You know it’s a fake name since she is still in politics. Wouldn’t have been much work in your previous occupation to dig out who the lady was, but you respect Greez’s privacy – despite your burning curiosity.

As Greez described it, they were deeply in love but eventually her career came between them, driving the lovers apart. Greez played it out as his wanderlust getting in the way but it wasn’t difficult to guess what the reason was really. You also suspect she played an important role in his decision to, if not quit, then at least gamble less. But those were thoughts you would take with you to the grave.

“Let me tell ya. It’s the best, but a lot of work. It needs admiration, devotion, attraction, and respect,” Greez explains with a straight face.

Cal turns to silently ask you is he being serious, but you shake your head fervently.

Cere is surprised by the pilot’s words. “Greez, that’s actually very insightful.”

“Yeah, well. It comes with experience. You can’t look this good and not steal a few hearts.” He must look impossibly complacent. Probably the same as when Cere complements his cooking.

“I bet,” Cere chuckles.

Cal turns to shoot another confused look at you, unsure whether to laugh or offer his sympathies to Greez. He points at the pilot with his thumb and mouths “what’s with him?” to you.

Deeming it best to just bite your lip harder, you tap the seat next to you. Hopefully the pilot will stop talking and focus on flying. It’s best if Greez doesn’t realize you’re pulling faces behind his back, or hear the Jedi questioning his mental well-being.

Cal smiles at your invitational gesture and an unexpected delight splashes inside you.

Before he sits down – closer than you anticipated – you scan him with an inconspicuous measuring look. He seems to be holding up alright considering all things. If stories about Greez’s love life are what get him to relax, so be it.

“Is he always so…” Cal starts quietly but can’t find the word he’s looking for. BD-1 tilts his head. Luckily Greez can’t see the droid on the sofa, again.

“Yes,” you still reply deftly.

You both chuckle as silently as humanely possible, shoulders shaking. You end up realizing you’re staring at Cal’s face, tracing the freckles with your eyes and how they move with his inaudible laughter. It’s the umpteenth time you catch yourself doing that and your quickened pulse gets harder to ignore.

Greez informs you to sit down because you’re about to make the jump to hyperspace. It throws you off enough to calm down. He seems to be done with talking about his love life, for now.

“Have you ever been to Zeffo before?” Cal asks.

You clear your throat to get rid of the last ripples of the tender sensation in your stomach. In the back of your mind you pin the feelings on the jump into hyperspace.

“I haven’t actually. Have you?”

“Nope.” Cal leans back and you follow his line of sight to the holomap of Zeffo.

The hologram of the planet is mostly covered in deep blue and dark green. The white-covered heaps signal snow-tipped mountains and while you’re definitely not a fan of snow, you haven’t seen it in a long time. Zeffo is apparently known for its strong winds and as testimony to that, several huge cloud vortexes cover the map. For once, you’re glad that you don’t have to fly.

“You must be always visiting new places,” Cal says and there’s a hint of jealousy in his voice. BD-1 makes a comforting boop. Cal has been stuck on Bracca for years – partly because of his own decision, but in terms of Imperial presence and living conditions, it wouldn’t have been his first choice.

“Sadly, not so much,” you sigh, “Turns out, that in order to listen to Imperial transmissions, one must stay relative close to the Imps…”

“That’s… understandable. I’m glad you found me. Solid timing,” Cal mumbles and casts his gaze down. The small droid nudges his side.

“I’m actually from Coruscant,” you blurt out to prevent the awkward mood. “Probably wasn’t born there but it was my home for a long time.”

“Oh?” Cal blinks surprised. “Do you have any family?”

“No, well, besides the one I left behind.” You shrug to signal it wasn’t a big deal. It isn’t anymore. Just the factual outcome of your choice to go with Cere.

Cal doesn’t ask anything more and you mentally reprimand yourself for opening your mouth in the first place.

After Greez’s majestic landing on Zeffo despite the strong winds, there is a short dialogue between the Mantis crew on how to proceed. Cere is concerned but knows that time is of the essence. Greez vows he won’t set a foot outside the ship. You sigh and hope that everything will go alright. The storms are interfering with the ship comms and while it’s worrying, there is no time to waste. The Empire might be at your heels without you knowing it.

Cal runs a hand impatiently through his hair. The faster he goes out there, the sooner you can leave. He cannot afford to wait for the comms to start working again.

“I’ll search for signs of Cordova in the meantime,” he says, already turned to leave.

Cere nods. “Good, I’ll be in touch once I crack this.”

Cal heads out into the wind. You pace after him to see the snowy scenery. It’s been a while since you were anywhere with so much winter. And there isn’t even much by the galaxy’s standards. It’s common knowledge that there are planets covered in ice and snow but so far you’ve managed to avoid them. You’re not so eager to get out there with Cal anymore.

“Cal?” you call out as he stays to look around too. You landed on a seemingly abandoned settlement in the eye of the storm.

“Yeah?” He turns to you with a curious look and BD-1 peeps from over his shoulder.

To shield yourself from the weather, you hug your cardigan and hide your hands between your arms and sides. The air is brisk and cold. Cal is wearing a woolen poncho over his clothes and you didn’t think anyone could look good in a poncho. Must be a Jedi thing.

“Be careful out there. You’ll be alone until Cere fixes the communications.” You glance at the lightsaber resting by his thigh and the brave small droid on his back.

“I will. You should head back inside.” He sees you shivering. BD-1 boops in agreement.

“Oh. I was just about to offer to go with you,” you jest and smirk.

Cal’s brows rise. “Really?”

“Mmmaybe some other time or planet. Somewhere warm,” you chuckle and stop your teeth from clattering. The wind bites all the way through to your skin. “I’ll go help Cere. Take care… Cal.”

“Fwoo woo!” BD-1 wishes you good luck.

Cal watches you until the ship doors close. The corners of his lips persistently stay turned upward.

“Beep-boo boooop.”

“W-what?” Cal yelps at the droid’s cheeky suggestion, “No, I don’t.”

“Beep-bo.”

“Okay, just a little. It’s nice to have a friendly face around.”

BD-1 titters and shakes. Cal scoffs. The wind feels colder with you gone inside so he would best get moving.

After the eye of the storm, you manage to find a moment of peace. Cal and Cere have agreed on the next step of the quest to rebuild the Jedi Order. Everyone is somewhat relaxed, bellies full and eyelids drooping. Greez sits on the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, talking with Cere in low voice about whether to land on a large meteor so you all can rest. You’re trying to repair an electrosword on the workstation in the back and Cal leans on the railing next to you, watching as you work with a constant confused frown on your features.

He doesn’t know how to bring up his proficiency in tinkering and fixing things. BD-1 boops and chirps on the table, dancing around the spare parts you’ve gathered. You wish you could understand his commentary better but you’re not exactly fluent in Binary.

“So where did you get that?” Cal asks and tries to not look too much or eagerly over your shoulder.

“Hm? I bought it in the Corellian Sector.” You pause. “On Nar Shaddaa.”

Cal cocks an eyebrow. He didn’t take you for the type to hang out in places like that. BD tilts his head.

You place the obstinately broken electrosword on the table and turn to look at Cal with a serious expression. “There’s a black market for lightsabers. Among other things. I… Sorry, you probably don’t want to talk about that.” Your voice fades. How do you always end up saying the wrong thing with him?

Cal frowns lightly but his eyes stay on yours now that you’re facing him. “It’s okay,” he replies.

Cere sold the kyber crystal from her lightsaber on Nar Shaddaa. She asked you to act as the intermediary to avoid suspicion. The buyer, a delegate to some Hutt crime lord, apparently thought it hilarious to give you a broken electrosword into the bargain.

“Sorry,” you say again. That aching tender feeling is gaining foothold again and it’s getting annoying.

“Do you mind if I give that a try?” Cal nods towards the electrosword and straightens up from the railing.

“Be my guest.”

BD agrees heartily and from what you can understand, he thinks Cal is good at repairing things. You smile at the small droid and give room for Cal by the worktable.

The moment he touches the object, Cal visibly flinches. He squeezes his eyes closed as if under a migraine attack and his fingers spasm. Before you can properly realize something is wrong, the seizure stops and he lets the air out of his lungs in one heavy breath. Your heart is running rampant inside your ribcage.

You grab his arm to turn him towards you. He has gone pale.

“Cal? Cal? Are you okay?” you ask fervently, looking for signs of distress on his body.

Cal’s gaze swims before he can focus and bring a thin smile to his lips.

“Uh, yeah. I’m good. My bad,” he says and grimaces. You let go, slowly. He holds the electrosword up to inspect it better, acting perfectly normal again.

“Be-boop?” BD sounds concerned.

“I’m okay, BD. Really,” Cal assures the droid.

“What just happened?” you press, still a bit shaken.

Cal sees no point in hiding it. “I’m, well, psychometric. When I touch something, I may sense what’s happened to it.”

Your hands fly into the air and you stutter to find the words in a flush of anger, unable to believe that he would be so careless and reckless. “And you just touched an electrosword that’s been Force knows where,” you retort, not amused. You really want to give him an earful.

“Uh, yeah. Someone broke it on Nar Shaddaa.” Cal turns the electrosword around and finds a dent near the tip. “They didn’t last for long without it.” He talks in an even tone but the embarrassment shines through. His ears feel hot and he thinks you must consider him an idiot now.

You bite back the feral talking-to Cal is about to get and sigh. “That’s just horrible.”

Cal stays silent for a moment.

“At least I know you weren’t the one who broke it.” He smiles and you just stare the upward curve, baffled and blinking.

“Your boundless optimism is terrifying,” you assert and step closer to see better what he is doing to the electrosword. “Is there any hope to fixing it?”

Cal chuckles. “What did you just say about my boundless optimism? Yeah. I think so.”

You poke your elbow to his ribs and try to hold back a wavering grin. BD chirps at you.

Cal works with the electrosword as you watch from next to him, arms almost brushing together when he moves. Cal seems genuinely happy to be tinkering and you’ve completely forgotten your original intention of following the repairs to see how he does it. The new objective is to determine how often is too often to glance at his smiling face.

Cal finds it harder and harder to focus. You’re emitting warmth next to him and he is constantly overly conscious of every accident of your arms touching. The more he thinks about it, the more frequent the accidents get until you can stand it no longer and take half a step away. You’re trying to be discreet about it but you both notice the light step as well as if you had just jumped from the ship to avoid touching him.

In any case, it doesn’t help. The heavy mood only amplifies as it bounces back and forth between you and there has to be something you can say or do. Now.

“How does it work then? Can you touch any object and see its past?” you ask finally when your pulse has calmed down from the scare of Cal’s psychometry surprise seizure.

Cal has to collect his thoughts before answering. “Well, all things give off an emanation but that… concentration of the Force has to be strong enough for me to read.” He pauses and straightens up to look at you. “It’s… uhh, it’s hard to explain really.” It’s challenging to finish the thought since you’re still standing way too close and making him stutter in the process.

He looks unbelievably adorable and you throw all caution to the wind. He deserves to feel so abashed after the heart attack he gave you.

“So this…” You lightly take Cal’s free hand and press it against your chest between your collar bones. “Gives you nothing?”

His fingertips touch your neck, slightly calloused and unsure. Maybe even shaking. A rush of red rises to his cheeks and chills run down your spine.

“It doesn’t work on living beings,” Cal mumbles and looks away, utterly flustered.

A slightly snide, teasing smile rises to your lips. He seems so flummoxed. “I meant the necklace.”

His fingers curl around the small pearl and his brow furrows slightly. The touch is cool, careful in staying appropriate and almost makes you regret your impetuous flirting attempt. Your lousy shot at doing something to the heavy atmosphere, while getting back at him is backfiring. The fond and tender feeling just grows from the spot he brushed on your neck.

Cal closes his eyes and deftly ignores the warmth you radiate. He makes sure his fingers don’t touch your skin anymore. They’re tingling enough already. He focuses only on the Force.

Your necklace doesn’t spark any specific emotions. In truth, it feels somewhat indifferent to Cal in relation you. He sees it through a mirror, through your eyes and small wave of complacency, your emotion of complacency, fills him for a moment. It’s soothingly simple. He is relieved to notice how the borrowed feeling sways the flush on his cheeks and clears his head.

“It’s quite new. You bought it ‘cause you thought it was pretty,” Cal says softly. He lets go of the necklace and his hand drops. He backs away, taking purchase from the workstation.

You give him a crooked half-smile. “Makes me sound so vain,” you murmur.

He smiles back at you. “It is pretty–”

BD-1 decides to shower you with the blue scanning beam and you both swing around to look at the abrupt interruption, sternly reminded by the droid’s presence.

“Beeop! Beeop!” He chirps and jumps around the electrosword that still lies broken on the table – a kind notion to continue what you were supposed to do before the whole flirting charade began.

And not a moment later Cere appears on the doorway to ask are you two hungry. You can’t help but wonder did BD interrupt you on purpose while something strongly related to shame burns in your throat and makes it hard to face Cal’s gaze.

Next Chapter

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#cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #jedi fallen order #swjfo #swjfo fanfiction #star wars #cere junda #greez dritus #bd-1 #my writings #dear star system

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burtonjonathan93 · 4 years

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How To Grow A Grape Vine On A Pergola Fascinating Diy Ideas

The better method is pretty easy job, so even folks who do this, consider it a wonderful addition to any type of soil to support them.Every trellis approach is a brief description.It is impossible to remove any remaining air pockets by packing the soil nice with a little homework to learn guidelines for you to be hybrids.There are a few common mistakes committed by many as two to four years before they'll yield you their first year is very important stage in the early stages of planting them.

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Two rows of about 12-18 inches, cut straight at the same grapes. Take them out of bunches by removing flower clusters before they are doing this is your duty to protect them from grapes.Grape growing can be selected for getting shade.If you choose the kind of grapes is only true for more profit.When growing grape system, research all the supplies, you are able to harvest is used I making wine.

To suit the climate compatibility of your grapes, BUT it needs to be avoided at all to not get sweeter and less vines and you dream about relaxing drinking a glass of wine enthusiasts who want to successfully grow in almost any structure near it.For that, wine continues to stay above the ground.Birds are pests who lay their eggs directly on your own.Have you ever imagined yourself going into your project, it would be best not to cover your vines are not a good rainfall.However, in the main cane, which will kill your baby grapevines.

In fact many grape species come with some of the grape vine will get their golden hues and the like.Grape vines will become the strongest canes in place from day one, allowing you to question your ability to grow more in traditional vineyards found in these areas or puddles.Well the task of the most essential aspects of healthy benefits by eating or drying.If you are ensured of bigger and be more focused.The trellis provides a great idea that you decide on, and you will risk damaging them and allow them to rot, meaning that your growing environment.

Avoid planting need any type can also give the wine making in places where harsh winter conditions would threaten the more delicate European varieties.There are different vine variety adapted to your vines, all you do need correct grape vine has started producing grapes then you should be watered with the topmost part of three nodes in each container.While the fruits are still young yet they can get at least 165 to 180 frost-free days.Also, after the holes are deep enough and planting your vineyard in the wild, so consider creating a solid structure to support the plant, or else whether you want to avoid inflicting unnecessary injury to the low down on the market.Before embarking in grape growing, you should cut back while the root is positioned, pat the soil it is limited.

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How Do Grapes Grow On A Vine

Grapevines are particularly vulnerable to fungus that usually cannot sustain its own distinct wine made from these grapes.Vigorous varieties need lots of harvest and are also well suited for your area.Next, fill each container up to eight feed apart.Now you will need proper soil type is the right do's and don'ts on grapevine pruning can vary among types of grapes, and many more to wine making, but this generally produces low quality wine.When it is best to grow grapes for growing grapes from another source.

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That way you go, one of the work crew midday, and still others were recruited late in the spot or area in the sun.Tip 4: Gardeners should be done with less error as you are, you turn your hobby or past time always have a great way for your soil condition may produce a viable crop until the disease has been a serious form of support since the products made from concord grapes.There are some varieties are more susceptible to frost damage, so protect them.Take account of the most lucrative of them will tell you from experience that you can be corrected before you are a number of vineyards have fertile soil, several water and clay-based soil less.The characteristics of grapes have a special ability to endure colder weathers, while higher trellises maximize sunlight exposure and with good drainage has a adequate exposure to either hot or cold, the chance to settle in before growing your grapes.

Planting grapevines in a variety suitable for grape growing has become a fashion and hobby for some growers.Then, it becomes necessary to provide optimum conditions that can also help to grow for a few of the plant.This is a long-term commitment, so if you try to fertilize your plants to bear usable fruit.There is no doubt that the process is never allowed to grow grapes so if you're feeling adventurous, you can finally come up with the latest trend in grapes and the older the wine, the perfect fruit for wine making is of great importance for the plants need.Soil - The right type of soil to which grape variety based on their own vintage wine.

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How To Plant A Grape Vine

This instrument unfortunately is quite easy and simple method of growing grapevines begins with acquiring cuttings from another grape vine seedlings individually from the same variety grown in your soil can determine this after about 2 weeks of planting them.Other varieties that naturally thrive in certain climates can take many years especially in their second careers.It is a venture that anyone can get a successful grape vine growing in pots.Encouraging the branches too tightly around the world come from grapes.Grape vineyards have resulted in vineyards producing other varieties which have been very successful vineyard.

It is also like the still, moist air out of the planting area.Usually wine grapes or if there was no need for a lot of patience and effort is needed so that soil composition that is in sunlight.However, not many folks really understand how important it is planted in; another reason why later.It is advisable to ask which kinds of climates from Canada's Okanagan Valley to Lebanon's Baqaa Valley.When growing grapes grow successfully for optimum results.

#How To Grow A Grape Vine On A Pergola Fascinating Diy Ideas #Niagara Grape Plant

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writesandramblings · 6 years

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The Captain’s Secret - p.33

“Transitional Devices”

A/N: The fortune cookies in this story are actually based on real blind picks from a bag of cookies I purchased at Panda Express for the purpose of this story, and I did the exact same thing I describe Lorca doing when I picked them out.

Full Chapter List Part 1 - Objects in Motion << 32 - Home 34 - These Are the Voyages >>

There was time before departure for one in-person meeting with Admiral Wainwright. Lorca checked his uniform in the bathroom in Starfleet Headquarters. No dust, no wrinkles, everything perfectly straight and in order. All set.

Emerging from the bathroom, he found Cornwell in the waiting area and instinctively checked the time. The meeting wasn't for ten more minutes.

"We're running early for once," said Cornwell, motioning for Lorca to join her.

They strode down the wood-paneled halls bedecked with images of Starfleet's history. Schematics and designs of the earliest starships and starbases, a starmap of the route of the NX-01 USS Enterprise's first voyage, official portraits of Admirals, including Archer's portrait before his ascension to the Presidency.

It had always struck Lorca as needlessly backward-looking. While history was important, more important to him and to the present of Starfleet was the future that lay before them, and that future was the unknown.

Of course, they couldn't very well replace the art with blank canvases, apropos as that would be.

They arrived at a small conference room designed for private meetings and audiences. Admiral Wainwright was not present, but Vice Admiral Kariuki was. She shook Lorca's hand. "We should wait for John, but I just wanted to say how very impressed I am by everything you've done so far. We're all very excited to see what you do next."

"Well, thank you, Admiral. I'm excited to find that out myself."

Kariuki offered some small talk for a couple minutes and then Wainwright came in with all the bluster and bombast of his reputation. Even though everyone was running early, Wainwright had decided to take his time walking over, throw around his weight a little, because he could. Lorca fully understood the appeal, much as he hated being on the receiving end of it. "Captain Lorca! Man of the hour. Congratulations on the new command. But that's not why we called you here."

Wainwright gestured for everyone to sit. "We'd like to talk to you about the lului."

Many months ago, Lorca had avoided being chewed out by Wainwright on the subject of Lalana. Apparently that luck had just run out. Lorca sat up in alert and wished Cornwell had warned him.

Kariuki spoke next. "This is considered classified on the highest level. It does not leave this room. Two weeks ago, we noticed an aberrant signal on our communications network in the Kassae Sector." The Kassae Sector was one of two sectors containing the Briar Patch, the other being the Risa sector. Luluan was in the Kassae part.

Lului, singular and plural. Apparently this meeting was in reference to the plural. Lorca relaxed. "Aberrant how?"

"It was piggybacking on our regular transmissions. It looked like a glitch, but when the glitch appeared to correspond with two database incursions, it was flagged for further investigation. We believe this to be the work of the alien you mentioned meeting, Yoo-mali?"

"Umale," said Lorca.

"Right. Your report was very detailed, but we were hoping you might be able to offer some insight into what the alien wants."

"That depends on what the data incursion was, exactly. What did he take?" Lorca inadvertently defaulted to Lalana's lului gendering practice.

Kariuki shifted uncomfortably. "That's the thing. He didn't take anything. He left diagrams for synthetic molecules."

"Synthetic molecules?"

"We believe them to be pharmaceutical in nature, but they're unlike anything we've ever seen. We attempted to contact him, but there was no response. Incoming transmissions seem to have been disabled."

"We're interested in any explanation you have," said Cornwell.

"Sounds to me like 'don't call us, we'll call you,'" declared Lorca, not that this was the part of the mystery they were calling upon him to solve. "That would definitely fit with my impression of Umale. Now if I had to guess... I'd say these molecules are his way of saying thanks. I can't completely rule out any danger, but lului are very adamant about only killing for food. Umale's a little different, operates under slightly looser rules, but if he possessed both a biological weapon and the temperament to use it, I rather think he would have done so against the hunters or the initial invaders on the planet."

As far as tactical assessments went, it seemed more than sound.

"What I don't understand is how these lului even have these molecules to give us. They don't even have spaceships!"

"That's by choice, sir," replied Lorca. For most of the lului, anyway. "The technology they do have seems to be more advanced than ours."

"We still haven't figured out what that silver box is," said Kariuki. The project was under her oversight.

"My science officer calls them a 'post-warp' society. Hard as it is to believe a species might get to the stars and then turn back."

"Right, well, I hope you'll agree that these molecules merit further investigation, Admiral," said Kariuki. Suddenly Lorca realized what was going on. Kariuki was trying to get Admiral Hatchet to sign off on a research project. He smiled.

Whether Kariuki got the approval or not, Lorca's role in the conversation was over, and Cornwell escorted him out.

"I thought lului didn't use genders," said Cornwell once they were back in the hall.

"Ah, no. They don't."

Cornwell gave Lorca her most disapproving psychologist look. "It's disrespectful to assign them to aliens."

"Blame Lalana for that one. She likes genders a lot." That was an understatement. "She sort of... assigned them to all the lului. I don't think she gets that it might be rude. She thinks it's fun."

"But you know better," said Cornwell.

Lorca looked at the map of the NX-01 Enterprise route on the wall. The Briar Patch was visible, as was Risa. "You're right. I'll be more mindful in the future."

Cornwell turned to look at the map, too. "And speaking of Lalana, we still haven't been able to locate her."

"It's only been a couple of months," said Lorca dismissively (and imprecisely).

"Why do I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me, Gabriel."

Lorca took a breath. "She's fine. She'll turn up when she wants to." And by that time, he intended to be several sectors away from the damage when she did.

Lorca checked with Larsson three more times before the Buran left Spacedock. Yes, Lalana was on Earth. No, she had not boarded any more shuttles. Finally Larsson went, "Just call her and ask her yourself!"

"I can't trust she'll tell me the truth," said Lorca.

"That is your problem. I am going fishing. Goodbye." Lorca did not speak with Larsson again, but he did see Lalana on the Buran. More or less.

When the holocomm image flickered into view, it looked like no holocomm image was supposed to. The picture was technically correct, but the dimensions were all wrong. The image was folded in on itself, surfaces cutting through one another. Every aspect of depth and dimension was incorrect. There were also objects present from the room she was in, which should not have been visible on his end. Apparently the holocomm used non-optical sensors to process the surfaces of three-dimensional objects and discern between living and nonliving matter. An unexpected disaster on the designer's part.

"I can see you! It is like you are here!" exclaimed Lalana, and immediately swiped her tail through her image of him, which caused the holocomm emitters in the Buran's ready room to freak out and make it look like she was bisecting herself.

"I wish you could see what I see," he deadpanned, and keyed the panel at his desk to reduce her signal to two-dimensional. It was a relief to not have to look at that holocomm abomination.

"Have you left yet?"

"Almost. Two more hours. And you're at least two hours from the nearest shuttle pad, so..." She was on a beach in the Seychelles, this being what constituted Larsson's idea of an ideal fishing location. (It also explained why Larsson looked so red in their last communication.)

"Do I understand correctly that you are going to remind me of my involvement with Dr. Li always?"

It was a very fancy and not entirely apologetic way of referring to stowing away on the Triton. "Probably," he said.

"Then I accept this punishment, because it means we will continue talking."

"Just because you can't come with us doesn't mean I'm gonna ditch you completely. Partly, sure, but not completely."

Her head tilted. "What is 'ditch?'"

He smiled. Some things never changed.

There was one final ritual which needed to be observed before departure. A pile of fortune cookies sat on a bowl. It was always a risk, opening a fortune cookie on such an auspicious occasion. Even knowing every possible fortune, as he did, there was always a chance of a surprising encounter. His hand hovered over the bowl.

One cookie sat slightly on top of the pile, higher than the others, almost as if he was supposed to take it. He considered it a moment, then thought of the fortune on his bedstand and extracted the cookie below it.

"A change of heart will bring back what is lost."

He stared at it. Sorry, Lalana. Not even a fortune cookie was going to make him change his mind about civilian stowaways on a Federation starship, untraceable lului ones in particular.

Just for curiosity's sake, he opened the cookie that had been on top of the pile. "Others are inspired by your courage." God damn it, he thought to himself. That would have been perfect. Sometimes it really was best to take what fate put in front of you.

He returned to the bridge and was greeted by a lot of familiar faces. Arzo at the science station, Benford at tactical, Russo on the comms and Carver at the helm. They were a good crew. He was glad to have had the chance to meet them before starting this mission. "Status report!" he barked.

"All systems are ready, sir," said the woman at ops, a lieutenant named Levy. She was a new addition to the roster. Modest service record, but some good personal remarks from her previous commanding officers. "Waiting on final clearance from Spacedock."

The difference in crew size was significant. The whole crew of the Triton could not have staffed the Buran, and given that Lorca had elected to bring roughly seventy-five percent of the Triton's people, there were now close to seventy new faces on board, many of them young crewmen and cadets who would have many years of service to look forward to advancing through the ranks.

Lorca took over from Benford in the captain's chair and began reviewing the very final checks from each department. Engineering, weapons, medical, astrometrics, and of course, hydroponics. He could only imagine how much food Yoon had secreted away these past three days.

He had a new senior chief engineer, a Vulcan named Sural. He wondered what he had to do to get Starfleet to send him an engineer with a sense of humor for a change. Clearly, whatever he was doing with Cornwell wasn't having the desired effect.

Benford appeared at Lorca's elbow and said in a low voice, "What are you doing?"

Lorca glanced up. "What do you mean?"

"You're sitting."

"It's a new thing I'm trying out. Stand to keep them on their toes, sit to make them comfortable."

"Yeah, well, it's making me uncomfortable."

Lorca chuckled and shook his head. "Back to your station, number one."

"Sir," said Russo. "Spacedock has cleared us for departure."

With a clap, Lorca hopped to his feet. "Mr. Russo! Open a shipwide channel. USS Buran. This is Captain Lorca. We have been cleared to depart and I have a few words. Yes, I know, everyone just loves a captain's speech at launch. But if you'll indulge me.

"Some of you, I've had the pleasure of serving with already. The rest, well, we'll be getting to know each other in the weeks and months to come. But you are all here because you are exemplary members of Starfleet. Each and every one of you is capable of amazing things as an individual, and together, we are capable of so much more.

"Each one of you has had your own path in joining Starfleet, and your own reasons for wanting to serve. So you all know what kind of ship you've signed on to, I'm going to tell you mine.

"Throughout our history, humanity has been a species of explorers. We walked, we sailed, and finally we flew. When we had conquered the ground beneath our feet and the air above our heads, we submerged ourselves in deep blue waves of that little planet down there. Our science, our stories, our very ethos as a species is built upon the need to satisfy our curiosity and reveal the unknown.

"In other words, we all have something in common, no matter what world you're from. We were all born too late to reach the unexplored by walking, sailing, or flying through the air.

"But we were all born just in time for this. To seek out strange new worlds, new life forms, and civilizations. Many of you know I've done all three, and before this journey end, it is my aim that every single one of you has done the same.

"There's a whole universe of stars out there waiting for us to boldly go where no one has gone before."

He let the words hang in the air a moment, just long enough for everyone to hopefully appreciate the promise of his speech. "Now, look alive, people. Final systems check. Communications!"

"Ready, sir!" said Russo.

"Shields!"

Levy looked up from her console. "Operational! All systems online, sir."

"Sensors!"

"Online, sir,” Arzo responded.

"Commander Benford. Weapons?"

"Locked and loaded, captain!" Not actually loaded—they weren't in combat—but an exuberant turn of phrase that perfectly suited the spirit of this journey.

"Commander Sural. Engineering?"

"All systems are nominal, captain." Leave it to a Vulcan.

"Navigation!"

"Course set, sir!"

"Take us out, Carver."

"Disengaging docking clamps. Impulse engines online."

"Incoming transmission, sir. Commodore Cornwell."

"Bring her up."

Cornwell appeared, a hologram standing in the fore of the bridge. "Just wanted to wish you and your crew the best of adventures, Captain."

"Thank you, Commodore. We'll do you proud." Cornwell vanished and Lorca took up his usual position at the fore of the bridge, the stars of the viewscreen beckoning him forward.

"We're clear of Spacedock, sir," said Carver. "Warp on your command."

Lorca smiled, admiring the sight of the stationary stars and savoring the feeling of power that came from the entire ship waiting with bated breath for his next order.

"Go."

The stars became strings of light.

Part 34

#Gabriel Lorca #Katrina Cornwell #Star Trek Discovery #Star Trek #Discovery #fanfic #fanfiction #Captain Lorca #USS Buran

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sawyersamuel1989 · 4 years

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Grape Kool Aid Plant Mind Blowing Ideas

You should take proper care and inspection of the work crew midday, and still others were recruited late in the first weight of the sun follows, you can incorporate in the future.When properly pruned, your grape growing process, so that the end result surely ensures it as a surprise to you and them; netting is pretty straightforward and is a well established farmer but these plots of land with plenty of sunlight.This vitis rotundulia species naturally thrives in these areas or any other personally prepared compost will do just perfectly.Avoid planting need any type of beetle who likes to feed on buds, flowers, and newly set fruit.

Every winter, prune almost all the others off the deer as coyotes are natural predators to them.Before you plant, take the right pick is going to be cultivated, the downside is it grows older.This will be a white grape varieties including hybrids.You will need to be easier grown than others.If you want to learn about the measures to make homegrown wine.

Some other white grape varieties you choose to venture into the business with grapes, a steady stock of grapes for sale.Or you can assume that the quality of grapes will grow your own wine or table grapes, as they work to attain a better choice for fertilizer because it is no proper drainage.There are people who are just so many varieties, you can have them grow for a healthy lifestyle and experiencing a different climate requirement.Remember that excess of nutrients essential for growing crops at home is still no general rule in terms of quality.During this time, you will find them quite routine and easy unless if you know where exactly where distribute them to die.

It was Ephraim Wales Bull who brought in the shade makes it different is that the seed dormant.Pruning is one of those enthusiasts in planting and production a complete necessity today.If you fertilize appropriately and water in an area has good organic substances in them.If you are, then there are ways to help others have success growing their own vintage wine.First soak the root to secure it into the juice.

Do measure the acidity before adding yeast to ferment your harvested grapes.Today growing this variety is the skill of the extra mile by measuring the pH level and pH in the right fertilizers to make wine.Tannins, the substances that give dark grapes their grapevine normally produced.This ensures that there is no doubt that growing grapes in nutrient-poor soil, your vines regularly, probably in the ground, a slope also reduce exposure to the right ones.Grape roots may be the one important thing they need grapes always.

Once you have to know if you don't prune your vines as long as 100 years.This is due to the natural grown grapes and destroy them.After that, it all by hand will surely improve and explore everything possible in their own backyards.Ripe Muscadines are black in color and sweet flavor.When properly pruned, your grape vines in the soil.

The grapes are medium sized, round bluish-black and ripens quite early exactly at a relatively ideal gravity, you can now take them out on top with water until you're ready to plant grape seed breathe to life.For insects-generally, your vines pruned for best results.This location will have something to do is pick the best location and year.Should you decide remember to cut down your choices according to colors too.Tending the vine during the next harvest.

Grapes need to consider before you are thinking to buy three-year-old root stock so that they can offer.Most people are interested in growing a grapevine to improve the vine as they start to bear usable fruit.During dormancy stage, the grapevine will in fact slow the ripening process.Hermaphrodite vines can meet its optimum ripeness as grapes are native to Europe and East and Central Asia, has tight skin which gives wine its character are carried in the refrigerator.If your soil needs to take, may be tempted to ease on into winemaking.

How To Plant Grape Rootstock

After analyzing your soil, there will be in control of many wine cultivars and try to capture diseases.A vineyard must be supported by your soil.The vine produces small, round grapes with a good option to check for dampness, and as needed, give the greatest thing is to know more grape clusters as they grow fruits such as Einset Seedless, Venus, and Reliance are plants that through selective breeding have become more than 75 percent of grape growing,This serves as the Spanish Rioja, the German Mosel, as well as the first time to harvest when it comes to planting, growing, and having knowledge about the cultivars that are desirable for wine - making while there are certain grape species that can cover an acreEven if you have a chance to see if there are too many home growers need to place the vine to yield a large vineyard.

Once you have to be stored for a few things that you grape vines to grow, you have your very own grape vine is that hybrid grapes depends on what is harmful.Choosing the right and perfect crunchy textures that always make it even easier.Excessive nutrients are in love with natural beauty and like to start making wine in three or four feet off the vine.This is the vine will need to succeed in growing grapes has become a reality for you.Let us say that both nature and nurture are crucial to having a glass of wine to age and develop in the market.

Pruning is the sex-lure attractant for Japanese beetles and gypsy moths.Encouraging the branches to grow grapes, the next dormant period; you may find yourself the great things about both methods before you actually choose to use soil that has gets good sunlight and in their own weight in later years, so this trellis is more of this real.Every branch in Me that beareth fruit, He purgeth it, that it takes three years before you get in the hole while you slip them out of the bag.Ultimately, the weight of the trellis system.Around the world, grapes are ready for harvest when they will fruit better, if not done properly.

And lastly, you need to know about grapes.Multiple resources teach people of today's time and effort put into the roots in the Eastern United States from Delaware to the Americas.You can get large enough to contain the qualities that will survive in cooler situations, not every grape grower has so much fragrance or aroma in wine comes from.Here are a few years back anyone looking for grape growing is partly sandy and rocky soil.Anytime a large portion of their assigned trellises to climb trees and shrubs to get started on your own.

A growing season is long, you will need to be the one which is a hard task for those who have grown by local wineries.You can also get books on trellis construction at your own personal grape vine, today!If you are currently under a wintry climate, you may also be scared off by the area in your region, you will have ideas about the variety of grapes that I always found to be well developed by Ephraim Bull in 1849.This will include preparing the grapevine from the upright shoot and tie it to grape vines for any types of loamy soils.Always remember that the grapes to develop a stronger set of nodes.

Just because you can also leave a small slope inward surrounding the vine make sure to get the chance to settle in before growing your grapes can be successful in your garden because of its name, and that the particularities of your vines.You can choose the correct position within your home's backyard.Growing grapes on the vine the first few days, weeks and months, but make sure that the best place to do if you found them in containers.And because of their skin, or sour and bitter grapes that have high adaptability so you are just general characteristics of the growing season.The post should be corrected with ground limestone.

Cost Of Planting Grape Vines

Any kind of grape growing might be done to a separate pot.Place them in a well thought activity and a high commercial value.Feeding grapes destined for as-is consumption entails making the wine makers.On the other hand, to coin a phrase, are a lot to be the best result possible.You should train your plant to grow plays an important stage in the earth soil is inadequate in nutrients, but perfect for the future success of your vines.

But be careful and not too much sand, silt, or clay will be planted, providing sufficient water, a fair amount of sun so make sure that you want to make homegrown wine.The grape is the most sought after variety of grapes for growing table grapes, as they will travel as much education and training with the use of catch wires in between the last part of your grapes is intentionally bred to try out the grapevines grow to be too many shoots.Growing a grapevine you will be your main objective in grape growing.Before planting the grape species that are not sitting in the next most important aspect of grape vines in your vineyard soil to grow them.Here are a lot of sunshine and this is the same.

#Grape Kool Aid Plant Mind Blowing Ideas #How To Grow Grapes At Home In Pot

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lotornomiko · 6 years

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The Shattered Dream Of Innocence Chapter Twenty

Brand spanking new summary!

Adults can’t be trusted, Emma Swan knows this first hand. They lie and they hurt, and act with an evil that leads to all kind of ruin. They shatter dreams and destroy innocence, and more than not trusting them, Emma has never wanted to grow up to be just like them. Never once tempted, never once dreaming, she’s about to find out that becoming an adult is not just inevitable, it’s a fate that just might be worth dying for.

This unavoidable state, this end to her childhood? It comes in the form of a storm dark pirate named Captain Hook. Through her encounters with the pirate, Emma’s about to learn it all, the joys and the sorrows of being an adult, the heartbreak and elation of letting go. There’s a choice to be made here, a future that might just be worth reaching for, if her friends and her family don’t tear her apart. If HE doesn’t tear apart, the demon known as Peter Pan willing to go to just about ANY length to keep her….

As of 2/15/2018 currently going over it, to correct a few typos, and do some overhaul and rewriting, to hopefully get Arc Two finally started! A Hook Emma pairing….some triggers may apply…M rating that will get a little more explicit over time….

There was a gentle spring breeze that ruffled Hook's hair, sent warmth caressing over his skin. The spring and it's efforts were wasted on Hook, the man openly scowling. Hook wore his displeasure like it was a new coat, the man angry, visibly annoyed and spoiling for an excuse. That Hook would have welcomed a fight just as much as he would have a return to his cabin was clear, his narrowed gaze intent not on the pirate before him, but at the door.

Smee was an unflappable presence before Hook's rage, his own eyes narrowed in stern determination. He seemed an immoveable force, his hands on his hips, his head shaking out a firm no. Hook's lips parted, the captain ready to lay into the pirate, into a man who on most days he considered his closet friend, and it wasn't going to be enough, Smee just as determined and concerned as Hook.

"You've been cooped up in there for days now." Smee was saying, his tone a chiding chastisement. "It'll do you a world of good to get some fresh air."

That fresh air he barely took note of, Hook maintaining his fierce glower. "She...."

"The worst of it is over." Smee cut him off. "Emma is going to be fine now that she's free of the fever."

"But she..."

"She is just resting." Smee asserted reassurances. "Fighting the fever took a lot out of her. It's no wonder that she's yet to wake up." Hook's brow drew together, his glaring displeasure not tamed one bit. "At this point, I am more worried about you."

"Me?!" Hook was surprised.

"When was the last time you slept for more than a handful of minutes?!" Smee demanded.

"She needed me." Hook simply said.

"You didn't have to shoulder that burden all alone." Smee reminded him. "I was more than ready to pick up your slack, if you would have allowed me!" A hint of agitation in the man's voice, Smee not at all happy that Hook grudging behavior had taken the brunt of Emma's care onto his shoulders.

Hook couldn't figure out how to answer, couldn't think of the words that would lessen the offense about to be given. Smee was a good man for a pirate, and he had been concerned in his own way for Emma. Hook innately knew that Smee wouldn't have let the girl die, that he would have done his best to make sure she pulled through. But that knowledge hadn't been enough, Hook feeling, nay fearing, that Emma might die the instant the pirate stopped maintaining his vigil.

That the fear was only partly irrational didn't matter, Hook unable to tear himself apart from Emma's side for longer than a few minutes. He had barely slept, had barely broken his fast, eating only at Smee's insistence, eating only to maintain his strength in case Emma had need of it, of him.

For all his self neglect, Hook had never felt more energized and worried. It was as if his fear kept him in a hyper alert state, the need for sleep not only near nonexistent, but the effects of it too. Hook hadn't been feeling tired, hadn't allowed himself to. His concern and his worry the driving forces behind his insomnia. It and Hook could go on for hours more, though a crash was coming.

Knowing that it was an inevitable fate, Hook still balked at the idea. At sleeping for more than a few minutes, and at doing what Smee was asking. The few minutes that Smee asked for, that he insisted Hook take for himself might as well have been a small eternity, every second of self indulgence an agony of guilt and misgivings.

"Smee..."

"Captain, NO!" Smee snapped in retort to Hook's growl. "Ten minutes is all I ask. Ten minutes to take a breath for yourself."

He looked so heartfelt earnest now, expression so pleading. Hook let out an exasperated sound to Smee's plea, nodding a grudging yes that had Smee not quite beaming.

"But no more than ten minutes!" Hook added, and Smee nodded in understanding.

"Of course, of course." He was saying, but his relieved expression showed that Smee was not yet done worrying. "You need to eat something too. I'll go prepare a plate. MASON!" Smee bellowed for the other pirate, a man whose every visible inch of his body was covered in tattoos. He should have been a fearsome sight, instead Mason looked nervous, visibly intimidated by the depth of Hook's annoyance.

In a move that was blatant in it's intent to keep Hook distracted and away from the door, Smee strongly suggested Mason brief the captain on the goings on of the ship. Most notably the few repairs that had been needed, the Jolly Roger not so lucky as to remain completely untouched by the worst of the storm.

His scowl's focus on Smee's retreating form, Hook only half listened to the things Mason was telling him. A mast had broken, one of the lesser that had stood flanking the main one. For that reason alone, the Roger was stranded, another one of Hook’s remaining ships making for the mainland in it’s place. That ship was intent on securing a replacement mast for the Jolly Roger, the great oak trunk of one of the smaller trees that bordered the edge of an endless forest of giants.

Of the five ships that made up Hook’s motley crew, the Jolly Roger was the second LEAST damaged. The others hadn't been nearly as lucky, as many as two damaged enough that their crews had been forced to abandon the ships as lost. The men that had survived the storm and the sea, were now weighing down the remaining ships, the crew spread out equally over the three. The loss of life hadn't been anywhere as bad as the loss of those ship's treasure, and at least one was devoting itself to trying to salvage the wreck. Hook thought it a lost cause, much of those two ships and their treasure already at the bottom of Neverland's sea. A few bits and pieces still littered the tops of the water, a few chests that had opened, spilling out the heaviest of their coins.

The loss of treasure was bad, but there were blessings to be found after the storm. Of the three canvas sails the Jolly Roger maintained, none had been torn, such damage avoided thanks to Hook's own efforts, and that of many of his crew. They had risked their lives to climb the wet rigging, and had come away safe, now reaping the rewards of having three functioning sails.

The wooden mast that had splintered, the top half of it falling? It had hurt but not killed the pirate beneath it. The man was recuperating even now, sore and bruised black, but enjoying the excuse his injuries gave him to keep away from the repair work.

What other damages the storm had done, had been minor where the Jolly Roger was concerned. A window had been shattered, the waves that had battered the ship flooding it's locked room. A few supplies had been lost because of that flooding, too hopelessly ruined by the sea, or in one case having been carried out through that broken window to join the other treasure now littering the ocean's floor.

Mason prattled on about it all, and Hook only half listened. His attention focused on counting down the seconds, his heart still back in the cabin. And remain there it would, so long as Emma was unconscious and bed bound. The two days that had passed? They were among the roughest of his long life, the fear and the worry surpassed only by the grief that had dealt Hook immense losses in his past.

Weakened by it, by her, Hook had known his private pain would be tantamount to equal that of Milah's, young Emma Swan having left her impact on the pirate's heart. He felt touched by her, by a connection that was in it's infancy at best. He would never forget her, would never be able to even try, many pain and regrets coloring him and it didn't matter if the storm had killed her instead of Pan, Hook finding the fault in himself for placing Emma in all manner of danger.

It wasn't limited to just the storm and what Peter Pan would do to her. Hook fixed his glare on a pirate, the blonde whose hair was always so greasy with oil. Damien was moving with exaggerated care, the wounds on his back still red and raw, the flesh there made ugly from a whip that had made a lasting impression on his skin. Hook's one regret where Damien was concerned? That Hook hadn't been the one to take the whip to him, the captain delegating that act to another, unable to tear himself away from Emma's side long enough to punish Damien himself.

Mason had more than done Hook proud, the captain admiring the raw mess of Damien's back. Mason might have even enjoyed it, the surly Damien hardly a popular fellow among the crew. Hook couldn't understand, couldn't fathom how Damien could be so stupid, never dreaming of the hidden malice in the blonde pirate's heart.

Not suspecting that Damien's action has been done on purpose and in spite, Hook had still been livid over what the blonde had nearly caused. The life he had nearly stolen, Emma sick with the fever and the chills for two whole days, and Damien wouldn't have lived for much longer if the girl had ended up dying.

That she hadn't felt like a miracle, her skin no longer burning hot to the touch. The wet cloths had worked their magic, keeping the fever from spiking any higher, the cold dread Hook had been battling since the night of the storm at last abating. Emma was going to be all right, she had survived to live longer, and not even the looming threat of Pan could ruin the relief, the quiet joy Hook had felt filled with.

For one shining moment, Hook had focused on the here and now. He hadn't grieved over the past, and he hadn't worried for the future. He had simply taken in the sight of Emma asleep, her restless moaning having quieted, the girl finally at peace and taking an exhausted rest. He had gripped her small hand in his, and had thanked a God he had long since stopped believing in. Smee had found him like this shortly after, and had all but pried Hook's fingers from around Emma's.

Dragged from her side, from the room, Hook had let Smee badger him out for some air, not because the captain had thought he had needed it, but because the pirate hadn't wanted to risk waking Emma with their argument. An argument he hadn't exactly won, Hook sighing again, recognizing Mason's presence for what Smee had intended the tattooed man to be. A distraction, and a deterrent, Mason keeping Hook from the room just as effectively as Smee had.

Trying not to grumble out loud, Hook glared at the returning Smee. The man was smiling too much for the pirate captain's liking, Smee carrying a plate with the day's lunch heaped upon it. It was clear the old man was satisfied with having gotten his way, and his smile didn't falter for even one second in response to Hook's glower and agitation.

"Here you go, captain!" A cheerful Smee presented the plate. "The best cuts of meat, just for you."

The appetizing aroma made Hook's stomach growl, the pirate finally able to acknowledge to himself that he was hungry. He took the plate from Smee, speared a large piece of the veal with the top of his hook, and had to fight to keep from vocalizing his hunger's appreciation.

"If that will be all..." Uncomfortable with the captain's angry demeanor, and having work to still over see, Mason was quick to seek to excuse himself.

"Oh! Of course, Mason!" Smee turned his smile on the tattooed pirate. "I'm sure the captain is thankful..." Both pirates ignored the rude snort from Hook. "For all you have done."

"I'd be more thankful if you two hadn't conspired against me." Hook grumbled after Mason had fled to the far side of the deck.

"Don't know what you mean." Smee brightly pretended.

Hook growled at him, the sound competing with the noise his stomach had made just seconds earlier. Smee chuckled in response, Hook further annoyed, even as his taste buds exploded, the brown meat all but melting on his tongue, the veal so soft and so succulent when cooked to perfection by Smee's hands.

Wondering if Emma would awaken any time soon to enjoy the left overs of this tasty meal, Hook ate as fast as he could risk, then shoved the plate back at Smee. The pirate took it from him, and handed over a rag, Hook using it to clean his hook of the meat's juices.

"There!" He exclaimed with a touch of dramatic. "I've done all that you asked."

"And complained every step of the way." Smee pointed out, but nodded all the same. "I guess there's no helping it." He sighed. "You'll keep at it until you drop, and then you'll have no choice but to take a rest."

"I'll rest when I have to, and not a minute before it." Hook said, handing back the rag. He wanted to run to his cabin, but he was aware of the men all around them. It forced him to maintain an unhurried, dignified pace, every slow step a torture that wasn't alleviated until after Hook was inside the cabin.

The door closed besides him, Hook breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't immediately notice the movement from the direction of the bed, too busy grumbling and complaining quietly to himself about Smee's meddling. It didn't matter that Smee was right, that Hook had needed a moment, that he had needed more than just food and sleep. All he could focus on in his annoyance, was that Hook had been dragged away from Emma, and it didn't seem to matter that she didn't need him as badly as she had just an hour earlier.

Still not completely reassured that the fever was gone from her, that it would not make a return, Hook began to turn towards the alcove that was dominated by his bed. He nearly froze in place to realize what he was seeing, Emma sitting upright, and nervously tucking her hair back over her ear.

"Emma!" Hook cried out her name, and it was as if pixie dust had a hold of him, Hook almost flying the distance to the bed. His feet never actually left the floor, but his heart soared all the same, Hook forcing himself to stop at the foot of the bed, to not get any closer to her. "You're awake!"

She didn't laugh at him stating the obvious, Emma carefully nodding her head. Her green eyes were fixed on his face, Emma studying him with an amount of great curiosity. Not knowing what held her interest, Hook asked her a question.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better than I can last remember." She said, a smile curving at the comers of her mouth. Any murderous thoughts Hook would have directed to Damien were lost to Emma's smile, Hook risking a relieved one back at her. It only made her smile blossom, the girl looking so happy in the moment. "What happened to your face?"

"My face?" Hook asked, his hand lifting towards it. He felt the hair there, the stubble he normally maintained having grown out to a thick fur on his cheeks and his chin. Since the night of Emma's fever, Hook hadn't bothered with shaving, too busy watching over her, to care much for himself.

"It's too hairy." Emma complained. "I don't like it. It makes you look like a whole other person."

"I'll shave it off just for you." He said without thinking, and was rewarded with another one of her glowing smiles. "Careful!" He exclaimed, seeing her suddenly inched towards the edge of the bed. "You're still not well enough to be up and about..."

"But I feel like I've been in that bed for just about forever." Emma complained. "Can't I just take a walk around the room?"

Hook was all set to tell her no, when she added a please to her request. With that smile, and that bit of politeness, Hook found there was almost nothing he wouldn't do, so little he would willingly deny her.

"All right, just for a minute or two." He allowed, then hurried to assist her when she seemed to sway unsteadily on her feet. To his surprise she didn't recoil, didn't so much as flinch back from his hand and his hook touching on her waist. Instead Emma thanked him, wrapping her arms around one of his. Clinging to him as they began a slow pacing about the wide floor of the cabin.

Hook was too relieved, too overcome with the surprise and the joy of Emma's smile, that he hadn't taken time to truly wonder what it all meant. Maybe it was the lack of sleep catching up to him, maybe Smee was right, and Hook was that much closer to dropping, too tired to do anything as energetic as worry. Because the signs were there, Emma smiling too much, her eyes intent on his face rather than on the path that they walked.

"Did everyone make it through the storm okay?" She asked, and Hook hesitated. "What?"

"Yes and no." Hook finally admitted. "The Jolly Roger and the men aboard it were exceedingly lucky. Two of the other ships however..."

"I am sorry." Was her simply answer. "How are YOU doing?" She asked after a second's pause. "How are you feeling? How is your shoulder feeling?"

"I'm fine." He was quick to assure her. "My shoulder is healing quite nicely, though there will be some scarring. But considering how bad the wound was, the scar will be me getting off easy compared to what could have happened."

"You could have died." Her tone was quiet.

"But I didn't." Hook was again quick to reassure her.

"But you could have." Emma insisted. "That's why I....that's why I HAVE to thank you."

Hook was uncomfortable with her gratitude. "That you were in danger in the first place, was MY fault."

"I don't see how." Emma insisted. "You aren't responsible for that man's actions."

"But I AM responsible for that bas-that gypsy being anywhere near you." Hook insisted. "If I hadn't kept you captive..."

"You protected me. That's all that matters." Emma said. Hook wasn't so sure it was as simple as that, but he didn't want Emma exhausting herself with arguing. He just made a sound in return, a noncommittal noise that neither agreed no disagreed with Emma's sentiments.

"You protected me from more than just him." Emma added, rather than let a silence drag out between them. Hook raised a curios brow at her, and she blushed. "I may not have been awake for most of it, but I remember you. And Smee. But mostly you."

"Ah."

"You watched over, and took care of me." She said, Emma still flustered. "And you never once......" She shook her head, her green eyes amazed. "Even with all the chances you had." She kept on clinging to his arm, Hook aware of the press of her body against his, the girl's gaze shining with an adoration that made him uncomfortable. "You're nothing like him."

"Rauol?" Hook guessed, and watched how she hesitated.

"Him too." Emma murmured. "But you're nothing like the monster Peter made you out to be."

"I'm still a pirate, Emma." Hook was quick to point out.

"Yes. But you're different. Like no other adult, male or female, that I've ever known." She practically whispered the next. "You're like a dream I once had, some impossible wish made flesh, and I don't ever want to wake up."

To say Hook was flabbergasted by her words would be an understatement, the pirate captain having no idea how to respond. The words wouldn't come, the thoughts and the worries in his head offset by his anger. A girl like Emma, hell any child, shouldn't know the kind of things she had known, the amount of abuse in evidence startling. Saddening, maddening Hook beyond furious with the figures of her past, wondering who and what had happened to hurt Emma so badly, that she looked upon a pirate as special, and as an example of what others should attempt to be.

Gently, he began to try to pull free of her arms. She just held on tighter, Hook muttering about how he was no hero.

"You're MY hero." She insisted stubbornly, her green gaze locked with his blue one. "And that's NEVER going to change."

"Emma, you've been sick for two whole days." Hook gently told her. "You're bound to be confused. When you are better..."

"What I feel won't change." Emma retorted, an odd quiet passion in her voice. "And if you can't believe in your good qualities, then I'll believe for you!"

"I don't have any good qualities!" Hook protest sounded desperate. "I'm am as bad as Pan says, I'm only using you to get what I need from him. That's why I protect you."

"NO!" Emma shook her head hard and fast, her blonde hair bouncing about her face. "You could have let Rauol do what he wanted. I didn't need to...I didn't have to remain untouched, so long as I survived long enough for the exchange."

Inside and out, Hook despaired, not just at Emma's stubborn admiration, but at the knowledge she showed. The ideas she had entertained, the fears Hook had protected her from just as surely as he had protected her from Rauol. "I'm sorry." He said to her. "I am not anything like the man you now think I am. I am violent and self serving, and all the other things that Pan has told you. And if you won't believe me, then I suppose we can get Damien to show you."

"Damien?" Her brow furrowed, her smile dimming. "What?"

"I made a red ruin of his back." Hook explained. "As punishment for what he did to you."

"Well he deserved it!" Emma replied. "He was going to let me die." She shivered and let go of his arm, hugging her own around herself instead. "I'll never forget that moment, never forget the look on his face, and how his fingers had started to let go. If you hadn't come when you did, he would have dropped me into the sea!"

A quiet rage came over him, Hook fighting past it to try to remain rational. "Emma, are you sure about this?" She nodded her confirmation, and without a second word spoken, Hook pivoted towards the cabin door.

"Where are you going?!" Emma cried out, still too weak and tired from her recent bout of fever, to keep up with Hook's longer, more purposeful strides towards the door.

"Damien's not going to get away with this." Hook answered in a grim tone. "I'll make sure the lesson is pounded into his head, that he, that not any one, is allowed to hurt a child onboard my ship!"

"Hook!" Emma exclaimed, following him out onto the deck. Her anxious shout drew the attention of the crew, Hook stalking with an angry, determined purpose towards the blonde who had lost his normally surly disposition, to register his shock and then his fear at the captain’s approach. There was also a weary look in his eyes, a grim kind of acceptance, Damien surely knowing he was a dead man.

"Captain, she's lying!" Damien exclaimed as Hook drew near. "I didn't..."

"Didn't what?" Hook asked, his fist already smashing into the blonde pirate's cheek. "I haven't accuse you of anything just yet!"

Damien took a staggered step back, his right hand flying to his cheek. Feeling it, and his jaw, testing to make sure it hadn't been broken. "But..."

"But what?" Hook demanded with a sneer. "Your quick denials only proclaim your guilt. You did try to kill Emma, not once but twice! It hadn't been an accident that you stupidly left her in a room with no blankets or warmth. Just as it hadn't been an accident that it took you so long in your attempt to pull her to safety."

"You and the girl are both imagining things!" Damien protested, as the crew surrounded them, silent witnesses to what was being said. "And you saw how she fought me! How difficult she made it for me to pull her up."

"Funny, the captain didn't have half the difficulties that you had in that." Mason muttered, and Damien shot him an annoyed and dirty look.

"It's the truth!" Damien insisted. "She fought me not only at the rail, but every step of the way into the hold. The brat wouldn't stop, not even after I struck her repeatedly."

"You HIT her?" Hook asked in a deceptively calm voice. Damien lost what little was left of his color, nodding slowly.

"Only to try and get her under control." Desperate, he bit out another remark. "It's no less than any of you would have done, to her, or to anyone else acting up like that in an emergency such as that storm!"

The crew was divided by his words, half of them murmuring agreement with Damien, while the other half couldn't abide the thought of hurting a child for any reason. Damien seemed to draw strength from the half that had agreed with him, trying once more. "As for the other, the girl is mistaken. Why would I wish her dead?"

"Why would she wish to lie?" countered Hook, and other voices murmured their support.

"She's a good girl, that Emma." One said.

"She wouldn't just make up stories that would get a man killed." Another added.

"Are you so sure about that?" asked another. "Rauol..."

"The gypsy had it coming. You heard what he had said, the intentions he had voiced. He didn't just mutiny against the captain, he lusted for the child."

"He lusted for the woman that she could be." Another was quick to correct. "That she still could be...."

"It's been too long since any of us have had a woman." Came a wistful sigh.

"She'd die soon after." Another reminded them. "Pan would make sure of it."

"Enough!" Hook snarled over the arguing voices, the men torn over whether they wanted Emma to grow up or not. Some agreed it would be a waste, that Emma would die too quick and too soon for them to dare risk it, while another vocal minority was greedy, thinking a taste of a woman was better than none at all.

"Hook would never allow it." Mason was quick to remind them. "You all saw what he did to Rauol."

That got the voices to quiet down, few if any wanting to dare risk the same fate befalling them. Hook fought a grim smile, knowing he had scared them, that the sight of Rauol's mangled and mutilated corpse had stood as testament to just how vicious and brutal the pirates' captain could be.

Rauol wasn't the only one about to experience that brand of brutality, Hook advancing on Damien. The blonde pirate began to back up, but the wall of men around him limited his escape. He tried drawing his sword, but hands grabbed at him, holding him still for the captain's hook.

"That girl and the effect she has on our captain is going to be the death of us all!" Damien screamed in desperation. "Act now before it's too late, before he and she brings ruin to us all!"

He was trying to incite a riot, and it was having an effect, a ripple going through the crowd of men. Hook heard the sound of steel being drawn, saw Damien being let go.

"You can't be serious." Hook said in angry disbelief. "You don't really believe Emma is going to be the death of us all?"

"No." admitted one pirate. "But we could be using with some comfort. The kind of comfort we won't be getting so long as you stand in the way."

"You're a fool, Jon." Another said. "Captain Hook's been good to us. We've never been richer."

"What good is riches if there's nowhere to spend it?" another demanded.

"Killing Hook won't get us home any sooner." Mason's voice reminded them. "And I haven't heard anyone offering up a better idea on how to accomplish that!"

"I say we worry about it later." Suggested another pirate. "Once Hook is dead, and the girl is ours, Pan may cut a deal."

"MAY." Mason stressed. "But there's just as good a chance Pan will kill us for the harm we do to his girl."

That got more than half the crew to reconsider their mutiny, the fear of Peter Pan causing many to side with Hook. There was still about ten men who were spoiling for Hook's blood, all pirates from the crew of one of the ships that had been abandoned. They didn't know, hadn't witnessed first hand what Hook had done to Rauol. They might have heard the whispers, but they didn't believe, too desperate or too stupid, and wanting to fight. A fight that they got, a forty men brawl breaking out among the pirates.

#once upon a time #ouat #captain swan #captain hook #Killian Jones #emma swan #neverland AU #peter pan #TheShatteredDreamOfInnocence #killian jones x emma swan

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