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get-infectious · 20 days

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A Permanent Solution

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Summary: Wilson found that marrying House meant that he had married both his hidden emotions and his fears.

** I wrote this while I was in the psychiatric hospital (again, boo.)😌🤌💜🖤💜🖤 **

Tags: Tattoos, Wedding Rings, Borderline Personality Disorder, Autistic Gregory House, Gregory House is Bad With Emotions, Gay James Wilson, Author Has Borderline Personality Disorder, Toxic Relationships, Nonverbal, Vent Fic

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"You know what you're asking is a completely unrealistic and manipulative thing to ask, right?" Wilson asked as House's grin faded upon hearing the word 'manipulative.'

"Of course I do," House replied with a wink. He leaned against the kitchen counter, doing everything he could to hide the hurt that came with the word. "One of the reasons that you finally popped the question."

Wilson huffed and almost pouted, knowing that House was somewhat correct. Not that Wilson particularly enjoyed being manipulated by his husband, but instead, he enjoyed having mental battles with someone who could match him. Although House had never manipulated him to get something as permanent as a tattoo before, Wilson would rather be manipulated out of more money than getting a tattoo. There had to have been something more personal in mind to try to get him to get a tattoo than House was willing to let on.

"Why… a tattoo of all things? You know I'd never…." Wilson trailed off, trying to study the look on House's face, but couldn't make out where his mind was out.

"Because why not?" House said nonchalantly with a slight shrug, twirling his cane in his hand the way he did whenever he needed to find something to fidget with.

"A tattoo of what?"

"That's the surprise."

"Then absolutely not."

House looked away as he mumbled something under his breath, his face turning pink.

"What was that?" Wilson said, not able to hear the answer.

"A wedding ring!" House shouting suddenly, causing Wilson to jump slightly.

As soon as Wilson's brain could finally process House's words, his face turned red. A wedding ring? Seriously? They each already had their own physical wedding rings; Wilson was the one who constantly wore his ring, while House only wore it on special occasions. In fact, if he were to ask House right now where his ring was, he wouldn't be able to tell him right away; in that sense, House should be the one getting a tattooed wedding ring. Wilson had no idea where this was coming from, but if House was in a vulnerable state right now, then there was no way he would get an honest answer from him. That didn't mean Wilson wouldn't try to push him into talking.

"Never mind, forget it!" House snapped, embarrassed by how long Wilson had gone without talking. He felt like he needed to take control of the situation.

"You were just trying to butter me up and trying to manipulate me, and now you're upset?"

"You didn't say anything…." House mumbled.

Wilson paused again, trying to decode House's motives. Right now, it felt like his emotions were jumping all over the place in a way that Wilson couldn't easily follow, which meant that House was about to have some sort of episode.

"Are you manipulating me, or are you actually upset?"

It was House's turn to not say anything, only letting out a huff of frustration since Wilson wasn't following him right. Typically, Wilson was either with him or a couple of steps ahead; now, it felt like he was trailing behind him, just like everybody else who interacted with him. Wilson felt the same way; in terms of understanding, he was always at House's side, holding his hand and leading the way most of the time. Someone needed to lead House down the right path, even if they both go down a wrong shortcut once in a while.

Wilson couldn't decode fast enough as House began to limp out of the kitchen and back into the living room without giving him any chance to speak.

"You're being serious?" Wilson concluded as House plopped down on the couch.

House ignored him as he lay down across the couch, turning the TV on in order to drown out any attempt that Wilson used to try to talk through this.

"No. We're not doing this," Wilson said, sounding like he was talking to a child rather than his husband as he turned the TV off so they could talk without any distractions. "You're upset," he stated as he sat on the coffee table in front of him. He had to outright tell House what he was feeling in order to get him to open up. "Talk to me instead of bottling it all up."

"I'm not upset," House stated but saw the stern expression on Wilson's face. It was one that practically screamed don't you dare lie to me right now. "I'm not that upset. Better?"

"You're moving in the right direction."

"And you're killing me."

"Just tell me what's bothering you."

House was silent. Great. They were playing this silent-guessing game.

"You were just trying to manipulate me, and you're pouting."

Silence.

"You want me to get my wedding ring tattooed when… you barely wear yours?"

Silence.

"Am I wrong?"

Silence. Yet, House looked away.

Did House enjoy this guessing game with Wilson, or did he go nonverbal and unable to catch it quickly enough? Wilson hoped not… Whenever House goes nonverbal, it could be difficult for him to get him out of that mindset.

"Can you please just talk to me, Greg?" He said gently as he ran his fingers carefully through House's hair. "Okay…." He whispered when House shook his head, becoming overwhelmed. "How am I supposed to know what's going on if you don't talk to me?"

Silence.

Wilson was thankfully a master at reading House by now and knew exactly what buttons to push to get him to open back up.

"Why should I get my ring tattooed when you never wear your ring?"

House only huffed in response. At least they were getting somewhere.

"Because…." House mumbled. Wilson didn't say anything, only staring at him, waiting for him to speak. "Because! It's like…." House started again but quickly trailed off, not knowing how he wanted to phrase his words.

Thankfully, Wilson knew exactly how to help.

"Want to bounce off ideas?" Wilson asked softly as to not trigger any sort of meltdown.

"Because… it's like… forever…." House mumbled.

Now, it was Wilson's turn to be silent again. Forever. What was that supposed to mean? They were already married, and Wilson didn't want anybody else but him. It was wearing Wilson down by how often he had to reassure House that he wouldn't leave him. He understood where he was coming from, though; the difference between how House was raised and the fact that Wilson had three divorces was a bit of a record. Hell, Wilson was the one who practically dug his own divorces by spending more time with House than them. House joked endlessly that Wilson needed to prove that he loved him and wouldn't leave him for someone or cheat on him.

"Forever? What do you mean?"

"Tattoos."

"They're permanent, yes."

House reached out, carefully grabbing Wilson's left wrist, and held out without saying a word. The touch was so gentle and unlike anything House had ever done before that Wilson couldn't move, even if he wanted to. Wilson carefully stroked his hair, hoping to catch eye contact with him, but he refused to look up, which was fair. It was his episode, so House would choose how he would cope.

"It's okay…." Wilson whispered, his thumb stroking House's temple in case he had a headache.

House began to fidget with Wilson's wedding ring. It was sort of a comfort that Wilson had it on; he was committed to him and only him. While this was true, this only caused House to frown.

"What's wrong?"

House pushed himself to sit up, wincing at the pain in his leg.

"Careful. Let me-"

Wilson reached to help him sit up fully, but House only swatted his hand away.

"Hey, what-"

House removed the wedding ring from Wilson's finger before inspecting both the ring and his finger.

"Stop. What're you doing?"

Wilson didn't understand this entire situation. How off the rails this was becoming concerned him, and he didn't know where his mindset was or where this was going. Was House going to be petty enough to withhold the ring unless he got it tattooed? Where was this paranoia coming from? Why did it hit so hard suddenly?

"You have three different scars where your ring sets," House finally responded, almost sounding groggy.

"Okay? And?"

It's true, even if it hasn't crossed Wilson's mind, he did have three small, almost unnoticeable scars, one each from his past wedding rings. The first scar was from the ring, which had a slight, sharp edge scraping into his skin. The second was when his finger had gotten smashed into a door. The third was when Wilson's third wife literally yanked the ring off his finger, leaving a small cut.

These small scars weren't fair to House, or at least that's what he believed.

Wilson's ring finger had a memory of every marriage except theirs. If he had a ring tattooed, it would last forever while covering those nasty old scars that deserved to be erased.

"Our ring didn't give you a scar."

"Is it supposed to?" Wilson questioned, still completely confused about what was going on underneath the surface of House's fears.

"When I took your ring off, it left a mark that'll go away in a minute," House started to explain, finally out of his nonverbal state. "You had three marriages and three scars because of them."

Still, Wilson was confused about where he was going with this.

"And…?"

"And… you don't see it?"

"See what?"

House huffed and rolled his eyes.

"If you used your words and not talk in riddles, we could resolve things much easier, Greg."

"Three divorces. Three scars. When you take our ring off it leaves a small imprint before it vanishes. Kinda saying that our marriage is up in the air."

Wilson took in what House was trying to say. The metaphor he used almost made sense, but the fact that he was the one who came up with it was the craziest part. This must have been weighing on him before their marriage if House was able to remember the barely visible scars on his finger.

"Greg… how long have you thought about this?" Wilson asked softly, wanting him to know that he wasn't upset.

House only shrugged as he continued to fidget with his husband's ring between his fingers, feeling the smooth edges. What else did he have hidden deep in his invisible emotions? Everything he had brought up this evening now made sense. The 'manipulation' act he tried earlier wasn't manipulation at all. House was looking for some sort of comfort as he 'joked' about Wilson getting a tattoo as some sort of step in a puddle.

Wilson put his hand on the back of House's neck, having him look up at him.

"Are you scared that we're not going to be forever?" Wilson almost whispered.

House only stared at him, as if debating what he wanted to say. Debating if he wanted to tell the truth. Would this be a sign of weakness? Was he being too clingy? God, he could never be straight with his emotions like other people.

"It's okay to tell me how you feel, y'know? I'm not going to be mad."

House only stared him down, looking for any trace that he was lying.

And he couldn't.

"I'm…." House started slowly. "Don't want… you to go."

"Where would I go?" He pressed on gently.

He wanted to hear more but didn't want to accidentally push House away. Wilson sighed quietly, running his hand through House's hair again in hopes of calming his nerves.

"Leave. I don't… you need to stay."

Even though Wilson sometimes wanted to shake the words out of him, he knew he needed to be patient. It could take days, hours, or sometimes even minutes until the full could finally come out.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Wilson continued to stroke House's hair in hopes of getting him to finally open up. He sighed, knowing exactly what House was trying to say, but he was the one who was going to have to say it.

"You suggested I get a wedding ring tattooed… because it'll be permanent—forever," he quickly corrected, knowing that using the same words House had been using would make him more heard. "You're scared we may get a divorce otherwise?"

Wilson prayed that he was reading House's metaphor correctly. Otherwise, he'd only cause more walls to build up between them about the subject. That was the last and worst thing that could happen right now. However, the way that House was looking at him, almost with puppy dog eyes, was telling Wilson that he was in the ballpark.

"I think that's sweet, hon, but… it concerns me that you would even think that I'd do anything to hurt you-"

"Because I've been there through all of your divorces," House interrupted, his tone turning a bit snippy now as Wilson was starting to get into an emotional state that he wasn't ready to face.

Wilson had to resist the urge to scoff, as House only knew the surface of what he went through with the divorces.

"That's different-"

"How? How is this… how am I any different?"

"You're different because you're you. I wanted you!" Wilson was starting to pray further that House would believe him because it was nothing but the truth.

"Then why do you bounce around so much?" House's question told Wilson that it must have been weighing on his mind for far longer than he had thought, and that broke Wilson's heart.

Wilson sighed, having a quick self-reflection.

"Because I… was always so…." Wilson wanted to choose his words carefully so there wasn't any room for House's anxiety to squeeze through any cracks. "Unhappy with myself. I didn't want to… admit who I was."

House was oddly silent and no longer looked at him. Did Wilson say something wrong? Did House not believe him? Times like this is when Wilson wishes that House could express his emotions and use his words. The only thing Wilson could do was continue to stroke House's hair and fight the urge to shake him. All he could do was wait for House to form the words on his own.

"Which means…?" House finally asked, looking up at him with that same puppy dog look.

Wilson paused, trying to piece together what he wanted to say. He was also afraid to admit who he was out loud, even though he and House had been married for almost a year at this point. He couldn't be scared—not right now. He needed to be brave to make sure that all of House's fears would dissolve.

"That I'm…." Wilson hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, as if making the anxious thoughts go away. "I'm gay. I thought that I just wasn't with who I was married to, y'know… but who I really wanted was… was you, Greg."

What was House feeling? That was hard to decipher since he had been taking so long to process his words as his heart was pounding in his ears. Even though they've been together for a couple of years, it was the first time that Wilson ever said it out loud. Maybe that had been why House had been so paranoid. As badly as House wanted to play all of this off as an elaborate joke, he couldn't do that mentally. Every emotion he brought as crumbs to the table was nothing but the truth. This was a real, raw moment between them that needed to be talked about.

Without saying anything, House buried his face in Wilson's stomach, looking for some sort of comfort, which Wilson couldn't say he had ever done before. He was even more shocked when he felt his arms wrap around him tightly and pull him in closer. Wilson couldn't help but freeze. Never would he expect House to do this, and it certainly did catch him off guard. House had a small physical connection capacity, but he rarely showed it. When he did, it was definitely warranted. House was more of an actions over-words lover. In a way, Wilson was the same way. Sure, he knew his way around words, but that's all they were. Words. Actions meant more to him than words, so he and House fit together like a puzzle.

Finally snapping out of his own thoughts, Wilson wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in closer.

"I love you and only you," Wilson spoke his truth, running his fingers through House's hair. "Is… getting a tattooed ring really the only solution?"

House couldn't help but chuckle softly with his eyes still closed.

"No, I believe you."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah. I…." House trailed off, trying to fish the word from his brain. "I…."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Wilson said with a smile, holding him closer if that was even possible.

"Shut up. I… love you, okay?"

"Okay," was all Wilson could say back with a huge smile, as it was rare to hear the words. "I love you too."

-------------

"Are you sure you want this?" The tattoo artist asked as he put on a pair of gloves. "Hand and fingers aren't exactly the ideal starting tattoos."

Wilson glanced at House, who had a grin on his face as he looked at the new tattoo on his own left ring finger. Never did Wilson ever think he'd ever get a matching tattoo with anybody, let alone a tattoo in the first place anywhere on his body. He trembled slightly but kept a brave mask on, even though the tattoo artist could see through it.

"I'm… I'm sure," Wilson told the artist, hoping he didn't sound like he was being held hostage as he wrapped the tattoo stencil around his ring finger.

House was beaming at the answer.

Forever. They were going to be together forever. What started off as a half-joking yet paranoia episode based on trust turned into something real. They were going to be together forever! This only proved it.

Wilson winced as the tattoo gun began to buzz, and as much as he wanted to back out due to being afraid of the pain, he knew that he couldn't.

The moment the needles pierced at his finger, Wilson couldn't help but tightly close his eyes and let out a loud, pained groan, still trying to put on a brave face but was failing miserably. He was getting a tattoo. A real tattoo that would forever be on his finger. He tried to even out his breathing with exercises to try to calm himself down. Still, between the constant buzzing in his ears and the pain that he couldn't escape from, there was no way that was happening. He knew how much they would hurt to get, especially at the location, but he never imagined that it would feel like somebody was slowly sawing off his finger with a rusty, dull knife.

As much as he wanted to pull away, Wilson was in too deep and needed to show his commitment to his husband. To try to subside the pain from his mind, Wilson bit down on his knuckle and closed his eyes. Tiny little needles. That's all they were. Individually, they wouldn't be painful, but thousands of them digging into the skin, feeling like they're dragging around the bone? Terrible.

"All done," the artist declared, setting the tattoo gun aside and removing his gloves.

"All done?"

Wilson looked down at the new tattoo that would now live on his finger for the rest of his life. The more he looked at it, the more perfect it became—unusual but perfect for them.

House leaned over, keeping Wilson steady as he was a bit wobbly as he stood up. It was amazing how getting a tattoo affected the body.

"Okay?" House asked, a glimpse of worry on his face. He was almost scared that Wilson already regretted the choice.

Since Wilson could see that worry, he smiled at him as he gained his balance.

"Okay."

Wilson carefully interlocked his hands with House's looking him in the eyes as he smiled.

Perfect.

#house md #fanfic #ao3 #fanfiction #my writing #gregory house #james wilson

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coveredinbees · 10 months

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As promised/threatened/requested...

Chapter 11 of 'Indecent Proposal'

(Originally posted on AO3 on 06-July-2023)

Every evening, Anthony would take it upon himself to pour the aperitifs. And as Kate made herself comfortable in a seat close to the fire, he would pass her a small measure of brandy and, just for the briefest of moments, their fingers would touch.

As he passed her the glass, he would ask her the same question. “Have you had time to peruse your contract yet?”

He would say it so nonchalantly; like her answer made no great difference to him, one way or another. There was never any pressure or chastisement in his voice. It was merely a polite query, from one acquaintance to another. He might as well have been asking about the weather.

And yet, Kate could not help but find his choice of wording almost laughable. ‘Have you had time…?’

“My Lord”, she wanted to tell him, “I have had nothing but time”. In fact, with the Viscount so frequently out of the house, Kate had been quick to realise that she had hours upon hours, in which she had nothing to do but study the infernal document. No, she thought, finding time to peruse the contract had never been the problem.

It was just that, Kate could not quite bring herself to sign it. Not yet, anyway.

But still, the surfeit of time continued to be an issue. Her first week in Berkeley Square, Kate had been able to busy herself with making new curatives and consulting Richard’s old notebooks. But once she had decided on the best course of treatment, there was little else for her to do, and Kate found she was quite at a loss for how to keep herself occupied whilst Anthony was out of the house.

During the second week she had tried to make herself useful – assisting the servants with the housework, and suchlike. And yet the maids, (although careful to always treat her with kindness and respect), seemed embarrassed by her attempts to help them. All the cajoling and gentle-natured teasing in the world could not coax the young girls into conversation, and it took nearly two hours before one of them finally worked up the courage to tell her, ‘A lady shouldn’t ought to be changing bedsheets, miss’.

Kate did not consider herself a ‘lady’, but that seemed to matter little. By the end of the day, Mrs Graham had cornered her, and all but strong-armed her back into a life of gentil idleness.

Kate was not used to gentil idleness. She found she did not care for it.

Anthony had nearly laughed himself sick when she told him. She had not intended for it to be an amusing anecdote, but nevertheless she could not help but smile along with him. More and more, it was becoming increasingly clear to Kate that his lordship did not give two figs whether she chose to behave like a servant or not.

And yet, Kate was not one of those people who would be satisfied to sit around all day and do nothing. She felt rather like an imposter, dressing up in somebody else’s ill-fitting clothes and exploring a house that did not belong to her. And so, she began to fill her days by writing letters to Edwina that she could not send and working her way through the extensive collection of books in his lordship’s library. Some days, Gregory would come to visit, and she would help him with his latin studies.

All in all, it was not a bad existence. And if she was a little lonely sometimes, well – she supposed it did not signify.

Each day, she found herself counting the hours until Anthony would return. Despite her idleness, Kate never seemed to run out of things she wanted to tell him.

After a little while, and without even realising it, she started to think of the place as ‘home’.

___

It was still early in the morning. Kate had watched Anthony leave for the day from her bedroom window; by now, the rumble of the carriage wheels a familiar sound to her. The weeks passed, yet still the Winter snow refused to capitulate to Spring. Kate continued to watch as his black Friesian horses continued to huff and snort their displeasure, their breaths turning to mist in the cold air. She had not even had a chance to dress yet, her thin night-rail doing little to protect her from the chill.

She continued to watch, until the carriage was out of sight. And then she sighed.

Another day, with that infernal contract hanging over her.

It seemed very reasonable. More than reasonable, in fact. If this contract was to be believed, the Bridgerton Family seemed to treat their staff very well. The pay was unlike anything she could earn elsewhere, and of course there was the clause about receiving ‘appropriate clothing’, provided by the estate.

In return, she was required to live ‘in-house’. Much like the rest of the servants, Kate would be required to be ‘on call’ every hour of the day, and so if it pleased Anthony to summon her at two o’clock in the morning for no reason, then this contract gave him every right to do so. This was one of the sections that had given her pause at first; although the contract did go on to say that his lordship would provide an environment of work where female servants could perform their duties without fear of harassment, or, (as the contract so succinctly put it), ‘moral outrages’.

‘Moral outrages’, indeed. That was another section that had given her pause. It was so incredibly vague. From what she had seen, morals amongst the ton could be fluid. And yet, after all this time, Kate found that she trusted Anthony. Despite their tumultuous introduction, she was beginning to realise that he held himself to a strict, (if somewhat unrealistic), code of gentlemanly conduct. He had treated her with nothing but kindness and respect since she had arrived.

And actually, she found she was rather fond of the curmudgeonly old sod.

But it was of little matter. In return, all the contract seemed to ask of Kate was that she perform her duties as best she could, and behave in a way that would not reflect poorly on the Bridgerton name or estate. And there was no denying that she could certainly use the money…

Kate read through the contract again. And then a third time. She took a moment to pour herself a cup of tea, and sat there, both hands wrapped around the delicate cup, so that the heat could seep into the joints of her fingers.

Lost in thought, she took a sip.

After a while, she rose to her feet and carried the contract over to the writing bureau in the corner of the room. Before she could think better of it, Kate picked up a pen, dipped it in the ink well, and signed her name.

There. It was done. Kate had thought that she would feel apprehensive after signing her name, but instead she found that it was almost liberating. She was officially employed. She had a steady stream of income and worked for a fine house. For an employer she trusted. And whatever her future may hold, at least for now she did not have to worry about rats, or where the next heel of bread was coming from.

For the first time in a long time, she had a home - however temporary it might be.

Filled with a new sense of purpose, Kate pulled a blank sheet of paper from the desk. She did not bother to sit down, and instead hastily scribbled out the name and address that she often did when she had news to tell someone.

“To Miss Edwina Sheffield,

Sheffield House

Somerset.

My dearest Edwina,

It will surprise you to know, that I have signed the contract! I am now officially working as Lord Bridgerton’s nurse. It would seem that all that blood, sweat and tears on the front line of the army were not for naught. I genuinely think I can help this man. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I might actually belong somewhere…”

Kate stopped writing there and read over what she had written. Of course, it seemed ridiculous writing this out now – and it was such a flagrant waste of paper, considering she was only going to burn this letter anyway. But it felt good to talk to her sister again, even if Edwina would never get to read what she wrote.

She was just mulling over whether to add another paragraph when there was a knock on the bedroom door, and Kate hastily hid the scrawled letter under the contract she had signed, before the door to her bedroom opened.

It was Mrs Graham. The housekeeper bowed as much as her body would allow, struggling a little with the large box that she was carrying. “Begging your pardon, miss. I hope I am not interrupting?”

“Not at all, Mrs Graham. I was just signing my contract of employment.” Kate gestured towards the document on the writing desk, but did not miss the brief flash of excitement that seemed to alight in the old woman’s eyes.

“Oh, that is good news! His lordship will be most pleased.”

Kate moved forward to take the large box out of her hands. Feeling how heavy it was, she felt a flush of guilt at not having moved quicker to help the old woman. Carrying the box further into the room, she deposited it on the bed, with a slight bounce.

“Goodness me, what is in this?”

“These are your new boots, ma’am. The bootmakers on Bond Street sent them over especially. There is another pair in a box downstairs, and some of your dresses have arrived from Madame DeLa Croix. She apologises for the delay, but what with the start of the Season coming up, she has been most overwrought.”

Kate’s heart all but pounded out of her chest. “Some of the dresses?”

“Aye, miss. In truth, only three have been delivered. But your new stockings are here, and your nightgowns too. There’s still a shortage of silk due to the war on the continent, but his lordship paid handsomely for you to get priority. The Bridgerton’s always pay their accounts and tip well, so he always gets priority over any of the other families, you see.”

Kate paled. Silk?! “I don’t… that is all too much.”

“Not at all! Now, shall I take the contract down to Mr Brooks? And after your bath miss, perhaps you should like to try some of the items on? If they need adjusting, it is important that we get them done as soon as possible, before the rest of the families start arriving in town.” She laughed, awkwardly, “Then there really will be no hope of getting Madame DeLa Croix’s attention!”

The old housekeeper did not seem to wait for a response. Whilst Kate was still trying to make sense of everything she had just said, a flurry of chambermaids entered the room, carrying ewer after ewer of hot water and seeking access to the adjoining washroom. Whilst they began the arduous task of filling up the copper tub, Kate’s bedroom became a whirl of activity. Under the strict instructions of Mrs Graham, (and all averting their eyes from Kate’s scantily-clad form), several footmen entered the room and began depositing boxes onto the bed, next to where Kate had placed package from the bootmakers.

Kate had been shocked at first, but quickly spurred into action, ushering the footmen out of her bedchamber. She did not notice Mrs Graham pick up the signed contract to take down to Mr Brooks.

Nor did she notice her pick up the letter to Edwina along with it.

___

January had given way to February; and yet, at a time when the ground ought to have thawed enough for the first sprigs of wild garlic to be making their presence known, the gardens at Bridgerton House were still blanketed in a thick layer of white. Combined with the crisp winter air, it the grounds seemed to absorb all the quiet sounds of nature.

It was most unnerving. There had been no chirruping birds on Anthony’s walk that morning. No scurrying hares or rustling branches - only the sound of his own boots, as they crunched their way through half a foot of snow.

If you could even call it ‘walking’, he thought, as he paused briefly and leaned against his walking stick. Despite his frequent treatments, Anthony found that his gait was still much as it ever had been – more of a hobble than anything else, and painfully slow. Yet somehow, despite his own perceived lack of improvement, Anthony felt better than he had in years. And besides, even hobbling could be considered an impressive feat, if what little leg muscles you had left were prone to stiffening in the cold.

With that in mind, he continued his walk. Best to keep the muscle moving, lest it seize up entirely.

At least here, within the confines of the trellised garden walls, Anthony knew he would not be visible from the main house. He had come here with a very specific goal in mind, and for that, he knew that discretion was going to be of the upmost importance. Because of this, he found himself peering over his shoulder quite often.

In retrospect, he thought, perhaps Bridgerton House was not the best place to go if he wanted to have a discreet conversation. After all, there could be nothing discreet about any conversation that took place in the grounds of a London townhouse. And that was doubly true for any London townhouse that happened to have Hyacinth in it.

Anthony paused again, only briefly, to check his pocket watch. He had been waiting for nearly half an hour. Tutting to himself, he resumed his limped pacing.

Benedict was late.

Oh, he supposed he did not mind waiting a little longer. After all, he had much to think about. What he was planning to ask of his brother was certainly unethical, and he wanted to at least pretend to himself that he had given the matter some weighty consideration before he completely discarded all sense of honour.

Anthony did not like to think of himself as a bad person. He took no pleasure in what he was about to do. He would much rather that Kate had chosen to confide in him of her own free will, and he certainly did not want to go behind her back and start prying into her past without the woman’s knowledge. But somehow, the not knowing was worse. The very secrecy of it all ate away at him.

How did a young woman of good breeding end up on the battlefield? Where was her family? And whatever happened to her damned husband? Whatever way Anthony tried to rationalise it, he found he did not like the answer.

Anthony finally stopped, as he reached one of the trellised entrances of the garden. At this time of year, the climbing roses were little more than skeletal branches that twisted up the wall. Roses were supposed to be beautiful, weren’t they? But winter had made them look cruel, and Anthony was forced to lean against the wall for support, as he considered the thorny ropes in front of him. His breath turned to steam in the cold air.

Someone had hurt her. He was sure of it. And god help him, when Anthony found out who...

These dark thoughts were interrupted by a familiar head appearing around the gated entrance to the gardens.

It was traditional for gentleman to don a hat, even for brief sojourns outside; and yet, as always, Benedict had completely bucked tradition. His dark, tousled hair was a stark contrast to the world of fallen snow around them.

“There you are.” He said, as he walked further into the garden. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

Anthony grabbed hold of his brother and pulled him away from the entrance and behind the cover of the wall. This way, they were out of sight of the house. Benedict tried to say something, but Anthony shushed him, taking a moment to peer out the gate to ensure his brother had not been followed. It did not look like he had, but you never could quite tell with Hyacinth. She could be devious.

“I told you to meet me in the walled garden.” He hissed.

“Lots of gardens have walls.”

Anthony tried to temper his annoyance. After all, throttling your sibling was generally frowned upon, particularly if you were about to ask them for a favour.

Anthony opened his mouth to berate him, but even as he did so, Benedict reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “How are you feeling today, brother?”

“How am I feeling?”

Benedict had a tendency to ask questions like this, and Anthony never quite knew how to answer him. Emotions were rather nebulous things, and Anthony had spent so much of his adult life buried in accounting books, that on the rare occasion that he did stop to examine what he was feeling, he was not always able to put a name to it.

Anthony released his lapels and smoothed out the fabric.

“Never mind how I am ‘feeling’, I have a favour to ask of you.”

Benedict smiled that strange little half-smile of his. He looked almost… relieved? That was curious. What could Benedict possibly have to be relieved about? It was almost as if he was expecting Anthony to be volatile, or even upset. And though Anthony could accept that his moods had been a little unpredictable the past few years, he had always taken special care to shield his siblings from the worst of them.

Anthony studied his face, trying to read the expression there. He knew, instinctively, that there was something Benedict was not telling him.

“You know,” his brother continued, with an unconvincing air of faux joviality, “most people like to make polite conversation before prevailing upon others for favours.”

Anthony continued to scrutinise him. “What are you not telling me?”

“Me?”

“I do not see anybody else in this garden. Are you hiding something from me?”

“No!” he said, too quickly. Benedict had never been a very good liar. His face was too expressive. On the rare occasion he had gotten into trouble as a child, it was because his facial expression had managed to convey an opinion that his tongue had been smart enough to hold back.

Anthony did not have time for this.

“Fine then, do not tell me. I will find out the truth, one way or the other.” Anthony already had enough intrigue in his life, he did not need his brother adding to it. And so, instead of pursuing the matter, he took a couple of steps back, and reached into his coat pocket. Pulling out a sheet of folded paper, he extended it to Benedict, who was still looking a little bit like a young boy caught with his hand in the biscuit jar.

When his brother made no move to take the paper, Anthony had to prompt him.

“Take it.”

Benedict did so. He started to unfold it, but he did not move his eyes from his brother’s face the entire time. He looked worried.

It started to snow again; only softly, but enough for Anthony to know he would have to cut this little sojourn short, and soon, if he wanted to return to Berkeley Square by nightfall. The journey across London was already treacherous enough. Another foot or two of snow would make the roads impossible to traverse.

He nodded towards the paper in his brother’s hands. “I need you to find someone for me. I would do it myself, but I don’t want anybody to know I am making these enquiries. Discretion is of the upmost importance.”

And all at once, Benedict’s façade crumbled. He closed his eyes and hung his head low, still not even bothering to look at the paper.

“He is in Cornwall.” He said, miserably.

Anthony blinked. He knew his brother to be a very capable man, but even Benedict did not possess the ability to locate a person before he had even been given their name. “Richard Sharma is in Cornwall?”

Benedict’s head shot up. His brow furrowed. “Richard Sharma?”

“The man I need you to find. Why? Who did you think I was talking about?”

Benedict could finally bring himself to look at the paper. He examined the words Anthony had written there with obvious confusion. Considering the page only contained what scant information Anthony had managed to gleam about the man, (that he was married to Katharine Sharma, and had been a military surgeon at Salamanca), it should not have taken his brother so long to read.

“Benedict,” Anthony repeated, this time with a hint of warning lacing his words, “who did you think I was talking about?”

His brother looked up, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed. This time, the truth was unavoidable.

“Lord Carnarvon.” Benedict said, with a wince.

___

First, there had been the sound of the pistol going off, followed by something sharp in his leg, and then… nothing. No pain and no noise; the world falling into silence. That brief moment had seemed to stretch out into eternity, and for a few glorious seconds Anthony thought that he had managed to avoid getting shot. That the duel was over, with no casualties.

And that was when he saw the blood blossoming through the white buckskin of his breeches. And all hell had broken loose.

It was the same feeling that Anthony had now; like he was lingering in those few fateful seconds, between getting shot and realising he was wounded. A stunned absence of all feeling, before the pain had a chance to set in.

“Carnarvon is back in the country?”

Benedict was there in an instant, gripping his shoulder. “You did not know? I thought that was why you had called for me. His name is all over the Society Papers.”

Anthony all but scoffed. His brother knew very well that he did not read the Society Papers. He pulled away from his brother, needing a moment to think – a moment to breathe. And then he was stumbling backwards, backwards, backwards, until he hit the wall. He found he was profoundly grateful for something to hold him up.

He could not catch his breath. Why could he not catch his breath?

“But he is in Naples.” He said, “In exile.”

And Benedict was there again, at his side, having somehow moved without Anthony even seeing him. “Brother, perhaps you should sit down…”

The words jumbled out of him, uncontrollable. “He nearly killed me. If he is back in the country, he ought to be arrested. Surely, even Carnarvon could not be that reckless? No, you are mistaken brother. You have to be."

He slowed his breathing, gulping in mouthful after mouthful of icy air. Still, it was not enough. He could not quite breathe.

“Come, sit.” Benedict urged him to lower to the snow-covered ground, and Anthony complied, balancing all his weight onto his good leg and stretching the other out in front of him. There were an agonising few moments, and then there he was, sitting in the snow, letting the cold dampness soak through his winter coat and britches, numbing every part of him. Yet somehow, the sensation felt foreign to Anthony. Like it was happening to somebody else.

And still, Benedict was there – his arm over his shoulder, a constant presence. Anthony turned to his brother, watching as the snowflakes landed on his dark hair and lingered before melting.

“Carnarvon shot me.” He was pitifully aware of how inadequate those words sounded. They did not even begin to describe the damage that man had done to Anthony’s life. Benedict looked torn, well aware that there was no comfort to offer in a moment like this. Anthony added, “How is it that he is allowed back in the country?”

His brother shrugged.

“He only left because it seemed likely you were going to die. If he had stayed, then he would have hanged – even Carnarvon could not have wormed his way out of a murder charge.”

“But I did not die.”

“Exactly. So, he decided to try his luck in returning to the British Isles, and it would seem that his gamble paid off.”

The shock was replaced by a burst of anger. Injustice. “He ruined my life.”

“That, he did. And if he was not from one of the oldest lineages of England, then he would be arraigned on that too. But he is Carnarvon. And a friend of the Prince Regent, to boot. There is not a runner in London who would have the gall to arrest him now.”

The rage boiled hot inside Anthony. He could feel it singing through his veins, scalding him from the inside out.

Of course, the Prince Regent would have pardoned him. “Prinny”, (as he insisted on being called), was an insufferable ass, and Anthony had only ever greeted him with the cold civility that rank required of him. It made perfect sense that such a man would happily accept a sycophant like Carnarvon back into his inner circle. Prince George did not have two independent thoughts to rub together.

“And if Prinny has accepted him back into High Society, then that pardons the man in everyone else’s eyes.” Anthony said, more to himself than Benedict. “He will be at every ball, every horse race, every damn recital…”

Never mind that he had nearly killed Anthony in a duel. Never mind that he had beaten Siena black and blue. With each word, he could feel himself getting more incensed.

Benedict’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “I am sorry, brother. This is wrong in so many ways. I did not want to be the one who had to tell you.”

“No,” he said, resolutely, “I am glad I heard it from you. Tell me, is there anything else I should know? Tell me all, Benedict.”

His brother hesitated, but only for a moment. “We only know what Lady Whistledown has printed. That he is back in Society and is looking at choosing a wife. Rumour has it, he has settled his eye on this Season’s diamond. And if he manages to win her, it will only reaffirm his place in the heart of society.”

And boost his coffers, Anthony thought. When he had fled the country, the list of gambling debts Carnarvon left behind was longer than the Bayeux Tapestry. Gritting his teeth, Anthony focused on the leg that was stretched out before him. Even through the fabric of his britches, and the thick muslin wrapped around the old wound, Anthony could still see the misshapen indent of where his thigh muscle ought to have been. He was hideous, yes – and many times he had regretted that ill-fated duel that he had called for on that drunken summer night.

But now? Did he regret the duel now?

Unbidden, a vision of Siena came to his mind. Her nose broken and one eye swollen shut – she had been almost unrecognisable under all the dried blood and swelling. Even now, years later, Anthony was completely unable to expel the image of her from his mind.

And then he thought of Kate; of her wide, dark eyes and perfect, button nose. Of the way she crinkled it when she laughed.

No, he did not regret the duel.

“He cannot be allowed to choose a wife.” He said to Benedict.

“I know.” Benedict said, quietly. There was a moment of silence. The cold wind seemed to absorb all the sounds of nature, lending the garden an eerie sense of calm.

After a while, (because he could not help himself), Anthony added, “I take it Siena is not with him?”

Benedict did not say anything, merely shaking his head.

Anthony’s heart clenched; more from remorse, than anything. He had thought that whatever affection he had felt for the woman had withered a long time ago, along with his leg muscle. Hell, after how she had treated him, Anthony had long since come to terms with the idea that maybe the Siena he had loved had only ever been a figment of his imagination; a mask that she had worn, just for him.

Still, he could not help but worry about her.

“You think he has left her in Naples?” Anthony asked.

“That would be the most fortunate scenario I could imagine for her.” Benedict left out a long breath. “I do not understand why she would have fled with him in the first place, after how he abused her. What was she thinking?”

“I do not know either.” Anthony closed his eyes, willing the image of her bruised face away once more, “I suppose, if abuse is all you have ever known then it is easy to reconcile. Kindness might have been too foreign to her, or too frightening.”

Benedict looked at his brother for a long minute, but did not argue with him.

“Perhaps.” Was all he said.

___

And there it was. The wound had been agony, but it was what had happened afterwards that was truly painful.

Anthony had been in and out of consciousness for weeks. He remembered a whole slew of different surgeons who had tended to him, although in his fever-driven mind they had all started to blur into one. He had few clear memories of those days, and one of those was Siena screaming.

This was back in the days when the fever had set in, and it was still unclear whether Anthony was going to make it. He was living on a diet of beef broth, and the weight had dropped off him rapidly.

Looking back on it, he supposed Colin was trying to do him a kindness, by sneaking Anthony’s mistress into Bridgerton House to visit his bedside. Colin had been younger then, and prone to romantic notions, and at a time when it seemed likely that Anthony would not make it, he had thought that it would bring his brother some comfort, to say goodbye to his paramour.

The plan had been ill-timed though, and somehow Colin and Siena had managed to walk into the room just in time to see Anthony’s dressing being changed. Her scream had not just been deafening, it had been ear-piercing in the way that only a true soprano could achieve. Anthony had turned to her; saw the distress on her face, the outright fear in her eyes. He remembered that the swelling had gone down then, and the bruising on her face was yellowing. Siena was starting to resemble more of her old self, and if it hadn’t been for the obvious fear and disgust, then Anthony would have said that she was as pretty as ever.

He had the presence of mind to reach out his hand, to try and offer some solace, but that only made her scream louder.

He never saw her again after that. And Colin refused to tell him exactly what she had said afterwards, but he gathered the word ‘grotesque’ had been bandied about more than once.

And to be fair to her, she was right. He had been grotesque. He still was. No woman should have to look upon such a marring of flesh, and Anthony found he could not fault her for her reaction. It was more than understandable.

What was less understandable was why she had gone back to Carnarvon afterwards – the man who had beaten her in the first place. A woman needed a protector, that was true. But Carnarvon was so often in his cups, and he had freely called her a whore to all and sundry. He had treated her so poorly that though she and Anthony had been going through another one of their rough patches, it had been him that she had turned to. He would never forget that fateful night when she turned up at his front door, crying uncontrollably – her face swollen so badly that she was almost unrecognisable.

And Anthony had known what to do. What was expected of him.

What Siena – what any woman – deserved.

He had called for a duel, and he had lost. And yet, in the aftermath of it all, Carnarvon had given her a choice; come away with him or stay behind and face the scandal alongside her dying protector. She had chosen the former, running away with a violent abuser, rather than staying behind with him - a cripple.

___

Still sitting on the snow-covered ground, Anthony could not quite work up the strength to stand up. The snow was falling heavier now, and for certain if he did not call for the carriage soon, he would not be able to travel the short distance home this evening. He would have to bed here at Bridgerton House, and hope that the roads were clearer on the morrow.

He would not get to dine with Kate tonight. Which he now supposed would be for the best.

“I fear Siena is dead, Benedict. I think he might have killed her.”

His brother grimaced, “Do not say that.”

“It is likely true.”

“I know. Only, do not say it.”

There was another moment of silence. Anthony could not say for how long they had sat like that; him, lost in his own thoughts and Benedict, as ever, a reassuring presence at his side. After a while, Anthony made a valiant attempt to get to his feet. It took some leveraging himself against the garden-wall, and no small amount of help from his brother, but finally he was able to stand upright. The pair of them took a minute to wipe the snow off their tailcoats and grumble about how damp their clothes were, but after a while they made the slow journey back towards the house.

Anthony’s limp was more pronounced; this time, it was not merely the winter chill that was seizing his muscles. He had been sat in an awkward position for far too long, and he knew that he would be feeling the effects of this poor decision for several days to come. Benedict slowed his pace, in order to match his brother. Wordlessly, his shoved his hands into his coat pockets, trying to generate some feeling back into his frozen fingers. But after a moment, he withdrew his hands, pulling from one pocket a piece of folded paper.

Ah, yes. The errand. Anthony had almost forgotten.

Benedict paused briefly mid-stride and re-read the information that Anthony had spent most of the morning laying out on paper. He watched his brother’s furrowed brow, as he scrutinised the paper.

It felt foolish now, actually – a childish whim, something with which to distract himself. But now Anthony could see more clearly, he realised that he could never hope to pursue a dalliance with Kate – and a courtship was completely out of the question. Not only because of the hideousness of his deformity, but due to the very danger that he had inadvertently put her in.

He had failed Siena. He would not fail Kate. He could not.

Looking up from the paper in his hands, Benedict asked, “Who is this ‘Richard Sharma’? And why you need to find out about him so badly?”

Anthony thought about Kate. And then he thought about the other women in his life: his mother, his sisters, his household staff, his old paramours– and any other women he had previously had a connection with. Any one of them could potentially be a target of revenge. Anthony Bridgerton had known Carnarvon his whole life, and the man did not take well to being slighted.

He plucked the paper out of his brother’s hands and crumpled it, before returning the paper to his inside pocket. He would burn it later, the evidence of his foolishness.

“It does not matter,” he said, eventually.

#indecent proposal fic #kathony fic #bridgerton netflix #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma

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authorgirl1111 · 2 years

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Sandman Episodes if Sandman fathered a child who DIDN'T come rescue him.

Episode 2

Now most of this episode would depend on if Dream's child every got a hold of any of his tools, and if he ever finds it out.

But either way one of the key differences is that no matter if the tools location are known or not. The Dreaming isn't as decayed as it is in the show. The Library is still there, the palace is perhaps crumbling in a few places, but for the most part it's still standing.

Lucienne does tell him that some of the subjects did infact leave, but the majority of them are present in the dreaming.

Now if Lucienne knows where the tools are, she is the one who tell's Dream where to find them (with the Ruby being hidden in a secret (bed) room in the library. The sand is in the human world (though still in close proximity to Johanna, but not "owned" by her). The Helm is still in hell, though Lucienne doesn't know who owns it.) Meaning that Gregory doesn't need to be reabsorbed, or the fates need to be consulted.

If Lucienne doesn't know where the tools are, or even who would know where they are. Then episode plays out similarly to canon with a few differences.

Gregory is still reabsorbed, however (though Morpheus is gone when this happens) Cain does not kill Abel afterwards. Instead of stabbing him with a pitchfork, Cain instead just punches and hits him a few times before heading inside to calm down. (Yeah still insanely unhealthy - though it's mentioned off handedly at some point that Cain hasn't killed Abel in 6 months and before that it was two years.)

Morpheus is mildly surprised when he comes back to replace Gregory and notes that there isn't many new graves, now does it seem like Abel's been murdered yet.

So instead of leaving the egg by Abel's grave. He instead leaves it by the garden where Cain will likely find it when he goes to tend to it.

In both versions of the remade episodes, there are people that Morpheus is constantly just missing (and by 'just' missing I mean he isn't even aware of them at first - Lucienne is, but Morpheus is dealing with a bunch of things, that he isn't aware,) he doesn't see the raven flying overhead, or the hair of a young woman who walks away from the library stacks before Morpheus turns the corner, an older man who is walking away from the House of Mysteries just before Morpheus comes down the walkway, a grandmotherly woman who is closing the door to the throne room and walks off just as Morpheus is turning the corner. (It's done all nonchalantly, as though these beings have done this thousand of times before. So the audience isn't exactly aware that something is strange. The woman in the library just picked up a book that only on second viewing you realize is a dream record. The man walking away from the House of Mystery has a light bounce in his step. The grandmotherly figure leaving the throne room is walking like she's a member of the palace staff.)

#Dream's Daughter AU #The sandman #Lucienne #cain and abel #Morpheus #dream of the endless #original characters

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newtonsheffield · 3 years

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You’ve said before that one day we’ll tire of reading your fics but I am actually afraid that you’ll tire of writing these fics some day and what will I do then 😂

So just as an appreciation of this amazing universe that you’ve built, I wanted to indulge you.

The moment I read this (screenshot attached)- all I could think of was the Bridgerton and Sons AU.

I don’t have any picks as such. Just feel free to indulge in the prompts that make you the happiest because I think to see Kate and Anthony during any of the following situations would be a blessing haha

And lastly, thank you for this amazing universe

Hello! Hello! Hello my friend!

If I stop writing this series ( which is a huge if at this point I mean just yesterday I tricked myself into falling in love with Edwina Sheffield and Matthew Bagwell Through my own writing a new low for me tbh) You guys will find a much better writer out there, and honestly there are so many better writers in this fandom, Y’all are a crazy talented bunch!

Okay! Thank you for indulging me with all of these choices (I have saved the screenshots and will possibly use them for my future endeavours!)

But for this evening I am going to delight (possibly) you with Anthony + Kate + forehead kisses

Anthony Bridgerton had never been one for casual displays of intimacy. When he touched a woman, as unflattering as it was, it was fuelled by desire, purely and simply, because he wanted her. At least that had been true. Until he’d met Kate Sheffield. And suddenly all he wanted were the casual displays of affection she showed him. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to take her hand whenever they walked side-by-side, from wrapping his arm around her waist and tucking his hand in the back pocket of her jeans. Obviously he wanted her desperately all the time but He craved the way she would walk past him on the sofa and run her hands lightly through his hair humming absentmindedly. The way she laughed at his joke and tapped him lightly on the nose. They she would stand in front of him every morning and loop his tie into a tight knot, smoothing down the collar with her nimble fingers, then button his waistcoat and last of all, stand on her toes and leave a kiss on his forehead. And stupidly, he craved that most of all.

The first time she’d done it he’d been perfectly stunned. On the first Monday they’d been a couple. She’d tied his tie smiled brightly up at him and said There. So handsome and kissed his forehead. Before she rested her hand on his shoulder, balancing as she slid into her ridiculously (Anthony felt) tall heels. Before leaving the room. Her voice echoing down the hall as her head reappeared in the doorway Is everything alright? And Anthony had forced himself to nod nonchalantly as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest, his feet not quite cooperating as he stumbled after her.

And he’d told himself it was probably just a one off thing she’d done. Not to expect it. But she did it all the time. When she left the room, she swept past him, a her lips leaving the lightest impression against his forehead, the maddening scent of soap and lilies that clung to her skin engulfing him briefly. When they ate lunch together, in his office, Kate perched on his desk her legs crossed, her eyes sparkling with delight and she leaned in and kissed the little space between his eyebrows. And his heart would soar. The casual intimacy of the moment making him a little overcome. It was truly ridiculous, the way he reacted to her little smiles and her soft touches. It had his heart hammering out of his chest, absolutely bursting with affection for her. He couldn’t even be mad when Gregory sidled up to him when Kate had breezed out of his office A gentle Enjoy the rest of your day Honey! thrown over her shoulder, and said Kate’s lipstick is a very nice shade, but I don’t think it matches your forehead.

And he’d come to expect these casual little touches. Leaning his head towards her a little desperately waiting for her to press her lips gently against him. For the soft little hum she’d make just as they touched. Just just for the sake of it. Just because she was thinking of him. Just because she wanted to quietly tell him that she cared. And then one day she stood in front of him just like always, tied his tie just like always, buttoned his waistcoat just like always. And walked away. And Anthony was left standing in his bedroom, leaning slightly forward, expectantly as his girlfriend slid into her shoes beside him. More than a little bewildered. Unable to help himself from staring at her, something ridiculous welling in his chest, and the words bubbled out Is something wrong? Kate’s head shot up, her eyes wide with surprise, her voice trembling No, Why? Anthony shrugged, feeling a little stupid, as he said, feeling his lower lip pout Usually you just... kiss my forehead...call me handsome. And his eyes slipping down to his shoes as Kate’s own appeared facing his. Her hand tilting his chin upwards, her eyes sparkling a little as she whispered There. So Handsome. And her lips pressed lightly against his forehead for a little longer than normal. And he couldn’t help the content little sigh that passed his own lips. And he didn’t even have it in him to refute it when she pulled back, her voice delighted as her fingers tucked into the pocket of his waistcoat I can’t believe Anthony Bridgerton just begged me for a forehead kiss. He just tutted and said Well then don’t make me beg then. And honestly, he never had too again.

I’m sorry, I don’t know what this was

#bridgerton and sons au #kathony #anthony x kate #anthony bridgerton #kate sheffield #kate sharma #casual intimacy #i guess #forehead kisses #basically just #soft anthony #molly's asks and answers

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darkdevasofdestruction · 3 years

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Primum Non Nocere ~ Gregory House x Katrina Black

This may or may not be a personal fic I make for myself, that everyone is welcome to read in case they miss House or sth, so yeah, enjoy the clown fiesta.

There are many words that can describe Doctor Gregory House, all of them ranging from “Brilliant Doctor” to “The Biggest Asshole”...However, there is one person who ever called him “Sweet”, and each time, she got called insane.

Even Stacy, who dated him for so long, looked at her as if she suddenly became a chimera or something, which speaks volumes for his character as a whole.

It’s been 15 years since Katrina moved to America, and 15 years since she begged Lisa Cuddy to allow her to practice Medicine and learn directly from the hospital itself, even though she barely finished highschool and was beginning Medicine University.

Lisa had no reason to accept her, but she was much too sweet and convincing, doing everything asked, from cleaning, to nursing, helping her with management stuff, and then, as years passed, she started clinic duty and steadily, but fast-paced, she achieved her dream of becoming a successful cardiologist, going as far as becoming the new head of the department, since the old one retired.

Just as expected, she became friends with Lisa, James and Greg very easily, and each of them treated her in their own way - As her mother, as her confidant...And as her Mentor, of sorts - As Gregory House was the harshest and biggest jerk in the world, but not even the coldest man alive could resist her weirdly innocent charm.

She was the one to remember the gruff man’s every birthday and give him gifts she made herself - Nothing big, but always meaningful, like a winter scarf, or cute little decorations, engraved medical things and so one - And of course, on every Christmas, apart from gifts, she would bring him marshmallow hot chocolate and other festive decorations for his office, so he won’t feel lonely or bad.

Sometimes he didn’t even realise it, but every time he needed a proper diagnostic opinion, or his interns screwed up, he’d page her, not exactly caring if she was busy with clinic work or with an important surgery, and he’d make fun of her for rushing for “No reason”.

Life is definitely difficult for a shy, young foreigner, all alone in the world, but somehow, with the help of this few people, she managed to find something that she lacked her whole childhood - A true “Family” and a place to call “Home”.

But for Gregory House, this woman, Katrina Black, has always been an enigma he couldn’t deduct - The greatest mystery that crossed his path - He wanted to know her, to understand her, to learn about her and her pain and maybe, for once, he won’t feel as miserable.

The past 5 years especially, after Stacy left him and he ultimately had to live in pain, addicted to pain killers, and while he got more and more bitter, he also began to appreciate, at least in his heart, the unconditional kindness and attention he receives from her

And so, here we are, 15 years after the moment that changed everything in their lives...

“It’s not inflammatory process. It’s not a clot, because Chase’s angio says so. And it’s not cancer, because her tush is perfect. Anybody else got an Aunt Elyssa with weird stuff?” House limped into his office, looking at the three subordinates that were sitting around aimlessly. “...Maybe it’s worth looking into-” Cameron began, but was quickly cut off by the elder one, who looked at the angio once again. “I though you said Carly’s angio was clean.” Gregory blinked, putting both angiograms on the board for a better peripheral view. “It WAS clean.” the Aussie insisted again. “You guys see the problem here?” House asked in his usual over the top way. “There’s no indication of any abnormalities, no lesions, no spurs, no mastis-” Foreman got up to get a better look at the pictures better. “Well, if you guys don’t know, how about I call for the help of our lovely foreigner? I bet she’s gonna be angry for getting her out of whatever surgery she has, but...It’s in the name of science, after all!” he gave a mocking smirk at the trio as he hit CodeRed on the pager.

As expected, it didn’t take long for the girl to arrive, despite being in full surgical outfit, blood still on her gloves and her scrub cover, panting from having to run all the way there.

“What happened?! Are you okay?!” she tried to speak, despite barely being able to catch her breath. “Nothing really. Nothing that would result in the immediate death of a patient, clearly, and as you can see, I’m perfectly fine as well. Why ever would you hurry up like that out of a surgery?” Gregory fooled around, watching the crestfallen expression on her face, as she took off her gloves and scrub covers, revealing the cute and childish green scrub that had foxes on the top. It was her signature style, really - Always wearing the cutest, most childish scrubs, with various animals or flowers, and she was the only one who did that, despite her age, and didn’t care about anyone’s opinions. In fact, others kinda found it pretty nice too, almost giving off a more light and hopeful approach to a hospital. “So...Let me get this straight...I was in the middle of an open heart surgery...And you paged me while I was stitching it back together...With a code red, nonetheless...And I put my subordinate to cover for me, thinking that something happened to you or whatever patient you have...And instead, I find you here with no problem, loitering around with the three stoogies - No offense -...Having a party. Woaw, Greg, be careful, you are overshadowing yourself with every passing day.” Katrina groaned, throwing in the bin the discardable surgery objects and hopped on his desk, crossing her legs together nonchalantly. “Awwww, you love me, don’t you?” he retorted in a fake sweet tone, making the girl shake her head and chuckle. “Yeah, of course, who doesn’t?” she could barely keep herself from grinning at his silly self. “So what’s the real problem? What did they do?” “We are trying to see what’s wrong with Carly’s angiogram, and I figured perhaps the gorgeous eyes of an exotic, successful, intelligent woman, would be able to see the problem of another successful and intelligent woman.” he tried to speak with more honey than he ever did, just for the laughs. “The girl kissed by fire should dye her hair again. Also...It came to my understanding that most people have...A left and a right leg, right? Why does the angio have two left feet?” she asked, taking her hair out of the ponytail and messing it around. “Et voila! Without even knowing the patient’s problems properly, you saw the wrong when these guys didn’t. See, I told you the foreigner would get it faster than you.” House limped back to pat her head, looking at the three with judgement. “So...Who screwed up something so basic? I wouldn’t have expected someone that works under you to do such a stupid mistake -... No, wait, it was Chase, wasn’t it?” Kat smirked, looking at the Aussie with a playful glint in her eyes. “Wh-What?! Why did you think it was me?!” Chase looked at her with revolt. “Are you trying to tell me it WASN’T you?” she pressed on, watching him blink and get back in his chair. “How did you know?” Greg challenged her, only to see her shrug. “He seems like the only one to screw up something like this because he was trying to charm the pants off some nurse.” she spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You are absolutely correct! Oh, and, stop messing with your hair, you’re leaving strands everywhere.” he grabbed her wrists, and just for a split second, his beautiful icy blue eyes peered into her fawn-like green ones. “Well...Every fire has cinders and ambers, doesn’t it. Now that you basically dragged me out of the surgery room, you have to keep me around for the case. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind me purrrowling around, would you?” she joked around, just as Chase got up, staring at the angios he screwed up in complete disbelief. “Yeah. Sure. You do that. At least I’ll have someone competent around.” he nodded his head, a bit awkwardly. “That’s impossible! It can’t be - “ Chase tried to defend himself, despite having no excuse. “Or maybe it was Jenny. How come some resident signed this radiology report? Were you even in the room?” House reprimanded the blond doctor. “I’ll redo her angio- “ Chase tried to defend himself, but was quickly shut down by his superior. “You’ll do nothing!” an angry House was a scary House, which made the room atmosphere tense as hell. “Eric, go do the angiogram, please.” Kat muttered, simplifying the problem. “...I can’t believe I did that.” Chase turned around to look at his fuck up, making the red haired girl sigh. “That’s what happens when you think with the wrong head at the wrong time.” with that, she flapped her hand to dismiss both of them, dragging House to sit down, worrying about his leg. “I am surrounded by idiots.” he dragged a hand down his face in anger. “Yeah, I know what you mean...But they are not stupid, in the long run. Just...Distracted sometimes...At the wrong times, sure, but...They have redeeming qualities too.” she tried to defend them a bit, while also calm him down, knowing very well that nobody can think straight while angry. “Yeah, I know. But neither you, nor I, have ever been distracted by trivial things like this. Speaks volumes about someone’s priorities.” he retorted just as tauntingly as before. “Well...He’s still young...And he knows he’s attractive for most people...I don’t know. I can’t really defend him for this one.” she looked down, sighing. “Then don’t. It’s not your job to defend everyone or try to make me feel better. Look at you. You’re young, beautiful and smart, but not once did I see you being distracted by some boy. Chase has no excuse.” he cut her off, making her smile in understanding, nodding blankly. “Yeah...But you’re the only one who sees me that way. You...And James and Lisa...You’re the only ones that I trust to tell me the truth and be genuine with me...And you’re the only ones who talk to me or hang around me without wanting something out of me. Sometimes things are more complicated than you see at the surface.” her voice became softer, almost melancholic, something that was completely out of character for her, or at least, that’s what he thought.

House was about to open his mouth and interrogate her, in his own weird way, only for his office room to get opened and have Vogler and Cuddy walk right through. With an ever so quiet curse from the girl, she bit her lip and raised her head, trying not to look worried or intimidated.

“What a pleasant coincidence, finding both of you here. I see neither of you conformed to the rules yet. Are you trying to have an anarchy together? Not wearing proper clothing?” Vogler look down at the two of them, which made House blink in confusion at the girl sitting on his desk. “Well, I know I don’t wear a coat ‘cause it’s itchy and tacky...But as far as I’m aware, if my eyes haven’t gone wild from the LSD, Katrina’s wearing a medical scrub.” the man started playing with his cane, only to see the girl shoot him a warning look, mouthing for him to shut up. “Animal scrubs are unprofessional. Nobody in the hospital wears them, and there is no benefit to them.” the businessman refuted with ease. “The benefit is that I make them myself, they are comfy, and people find them nice to look at. My patients feel calmer and more reassured seeing cute things. It makes them see past their health issues, even by a few seconds. And children and teenagers especially love it.” the girl explained herself calmly, before biting her lip and speaking a bit lower. “I’d recommend you wear a cute scrub too, I’m sure they are more comfy than your business suits. Maybe you’ll lighten up and realise we are in a hospital and we work with people, not with documents and money.” “Haha, you’re pretty funny. Now I see why the two of you are always together. You have a knack for breaking the rules. Or, better said, you completely disregard the rules as if they don’t exist at all for you.” Vogler’s voice seemed to get darker and more threatening. “It’s just a coat and a scrub. House works from his office, and he wears suits, I don’t see how that’s a problem, the same as my scrubs, there’s no rule anywhere saying I am strictly forbidden from wearing cute tops. Do you really feel your authority so undermined by two people in this huge hospital wearing different things, despite not getting in the way of their pristine perfect work? Or perhaps you feel some kind of weird...Inferiority complex that you must hide and keep in check by walking all over everyone as if we are doormats?” Katrina spoke without even looking at anyone, only staring ahead, coincidently, at the messed up angiograms, and for a few seconds, she could almost feel her own legs getting screwed up from the malicious vibe emanating from the businessman. “Katrina...” Lisa brought her out from her trance, sharing a look of worry together, knowing very well they’re screwed either way. “It’s not about what rules are out there or not. It’s about the rules that I make, and making sure you are team players. If you are not, then...I believe we won’t be able to cooperate for much longer. Especially if Dr. Cuddy isn’t able to keep you in control.” Vogler threatened, before turning away and leaving, while Lisa gave her a pitiful look, following behind him. “...Fantastic day, isn’t it?” Katrina put her hands on her face, sighing in frustration. “Do you really make your own scrubs?” Greg asked, making her turn her head to look at him, before nodding. “Yeah. Want one? I can make you a pink one with lots of flowers and smiley faces.” she joked half-heartedly, which made him realise the annoying businessman was affecting her more than him. “Don’t be ridiculous.” he shook his head, getting up, patting her head. “What else do I have left after what just happened.” she stretched, cracking her fingers and spine, as she hopped off the desk, just as her pager started ringing. “Good luck with your patient, Greg. I have to go. If anything happens, page me...But no code red during surgery this time, please.” she gave him a tender smile, leaving the room, making him look after her.

What was it about her today that made her seem off? It has to be only Vogler, right? What else could it be. The patient, however, has many many symptoms, and no actual disease yet. Fascinating!

As time passed and he got to treat his patient, and even lied to the transplant committee so Carly would get a new heart, and nobody, except for Wilson and Black, who were there, knew about that felony he committed.

On the other hand, during this time, Katrina has been working day and night with barely any rest, other than the tons of coffee she had to down to keep herself awake. There was something very uplifting about overworking, and no, not only your heart rate.

“Hey, Kat.” Wilson raised his hand up to salute his friend, which made her stop in front of him, albeit a bit spazzic like a meerkat, but nothing too out of the ordinary. “Hey, James, how are you?” she smiled at him, walking slowly together to whatever place he was heading to. “Pretty good. Wanted to grab lunch, how about you?” he asked politely, putting his hands in his coat pockets. “It’s lunch already? How time flies...I forgot to eat again. Too bad.” she chuckled sheepishly, grinning at him. “Anyway, have a great meal, I have a surgery to prep for.” “You should still eat something, you can’t live on coffee alone.” James muttered with concern. “Thank you for your concern, James, I appreciate it. I have to hurry now, eat for me too.” she chuckled, stopping in her tracks, waving him goodbye. “Wait, hold up, I wanted to ask you something.” he stepped closer to her, bending a bit so he could speak without anyone lese hearing. “Do you know what House lied about? At the committee? I know he lied, but I don’t know what about.” he asked, making the girl sigh and shake her head. “No, sorry, I don’t know. If you want, I can ask him when I’m done with the surgery.” she suggested, seemingly interested herself. “If he tells you, that would be great. He seemed to stop himself from telling me because I am a member of both the board and the transplant committee...Which you are as well. Good luck.” he points out, both curious and frustrated with his friend. “Well that’s interesting...Okay, you’ve got me hooked, I’ll see what I can do and I’ll tell you as soon as I find out. Laters.” Kat winked at him, rushing to do the surgery.

However, she didn’t have to do much work, for when she was almost done with the surgery, House himself made his way into the room, examining her working, before speaking.

“How would you fancy dinner tonight?” he asked, which made her look at him, raising her eyebrow in confusion. “Did you talk to James by chance?” she questioned right back, doing the finishing touches. “Yeah, how’d you know?” he asked jokingly. “Oh, you know...Just the usual thing of me forgetting to take care of myself. So, where do we go?” she asked, finishing the sewing and turning around to exit the room. “My home. We get take out, fall asleep since it’s already past midnight...I came with the motorcycle, I even brought your cat helmet, come on, I’m hungry, don’t question so much.” he put his arm around her shoulder, bringing her to the parking spot. “No room to complain much, is there? Is it really past midnight? I feel like I just talked with James a little ago...” she muttered, taking the helmet and putting it on. “Time flies fast when you’re having fun, they say.” House pointed out, starting the engine.

For the rest of the night - Or early morning rather - They finished eating and were relaxing by the piano, playing “My Way” by Frank Sinatra and other fun, classical, beautiful songs, humming the lyrics and reveling in the fact that there were no cases for a while, and no worries, at least for what Vogler is worth.

“Say, mind if I ask you something?” Kat asked, turning her head to look at him. “Yes, a hooker came by just yesterday, how did you know?” he gasped dramatically, looking right back at her. “Oh, just a lucky guess. However, my question was going to point more towards the patient you just had, who needed a heart transplant. I and James were curious about your little white lie.” she chuckled at his jokes, which made him blink at her and frown. “Sorry, doctor-patient confidentiality makes me unable to say anything. As well as ethics. Those are very important rules that everyone must follow for a better place to live in, don’t you think?” she never really understood why, but those back and forth playful banters always made her laugh. “Oh yes, of course...Ethics...How could I possible forget about Ethics? Perhaps you have a dictionary so I can look it up once in a while. And now, for the real reason...I can assume it was something psychological? Some mental illness that nobody was supposed to know about?” she smirked right back at him, only for him to look at her for a brief few seconds and nod abruptly. “Bulimia and self-harm.” Greg answered, which made the girl smile sadly. “Figured it would be something like this...Many women like her have self-issues and they get desperate and lonely to the point where they find the only relief from stress and self-hatred in overworking and terrible coping mechanisms. Buuuut she proved to you she wanted to live, and you fought for her and saved her. That’s amazing. You...You are amazing, you know that, don’t you?” she praised him, a soft smile on her face of something that may or may not resemble admiration. “Where are you getting at with that? It’s almost like you’re praising her...For something.” his voice lowered a bit, almost as if he was interrogating her. “Praise is a big word...Although she is a great woman, without a doubt. I was actually praising you, above all else...And...I was just wondering...Would you...Would you do the same for me? Should I have been in the same position as she was.” she asked, as a matter of fact, which made the other doctor raise his eyebrow at her. “Why would you be asking something like that?” it was clear that by now, the atmosphere got a little bit tense, until she started randomly playing “Carol of the Bells”, such a beautiful, uplifting Christmas song, yet House could almost smell the nostalgic undertones it had. “You are being very weird, Katrina.” “Oh, come on, lighten up, it was only to satisfy my scientific curiosities. Christmas is coming, I haven’t slept in two days, I’ve been drinking so much coffee that I think I’ve transcended into another universe altogether...And everyone is weird in their own way, you can’t tell me otherwise. Now come on, answer me, don’t be such a killjoy.” she grinned, nudging him playfully with her shoulder as she got closer to him, trying to get him to stop thinking it was some greater problem. “...No.” he answered solemnly, which made the girl blink and tilt her head to the side like a confused puppy. “No...You won’t do the same for me, or No...You won’t answer?” Kat asked softly, hoping to get a straight answer out of him, but that’s never the case with House. “Figure that out when you go to sleep tonight. Good night, Kat.” Greg said, getting up from the piano and making his way to his dormitory, leaving the girl alone.

Sighing, she continued to play “Summertime” from Gershwin to calm herself down, before getting up herself and walking all the way to her home, albeit not a long walk, yet still relaxing thanks to the cold outside that relaxed her.

The next day, Katrina walked in around the clinic with her big Triple Espresso Caramel Latte cup, going around to do her clinic duty, only to get paged by House once again, most likely to help with another diagnostic, or point out some obvious idiocy one of his subordinates has done.

On the way there, she spotted the big bad wolf, so she hid behind numerous people and quickly ran up the emergency stairs to escape her fate, until she got to the diagnostician’s office, catching her breath.

“Why did you run? There was no code red this time.” he asked, wagging his cane around. “Yeah, well, code V from Vendetta spotted me, so I had to pretend I didn’t see him. The emergency stairs are a blessing, sometimes.” she chuckled, leaning, on the glass wall, taking big sips from her coffee. “Have you thought about what I said last night?” he asked, and by then, the eyes of the onlookers seemed to go back and forth between those two. “I would have...But as you can see, I didn’t exactly sleep last night. Again.” she gave him a sarcastic, exaggerated grin. “Yeah, I can see that. You look dreadful. Do you make it your personal mission to go in the Record book for the idiot who refused to sleep the longest?” he limped in front of her, making her sigh and roll her eyes. “It wasn’t for lack of trying, okay? I go to bed, it takes hours to fall asleep, and when I do, I have nightmares and sleep paralysis, I wake up startled and restless, and there is that, I can’t fall asleep back again because of overwhelming anxiety. Are you happy with my answer?” she looked up at him with an almost annoyed look in her exhausted eyes. “...Nope.” House dragged his answer a bit, as if he was thinking over some rationalisation of her behaviour. “Are you taking pills?” he asked again, popping a Vicodin pill. “Uh...Should I?” she muttered, blinking questioningly at him. “Maybe. If you don’t already. I’m not entirely sure if you are or not, unless you tell me.” he pointed out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Or maybe I need a long vacation in the Maldives. Or to go back home in Europe. Who knows, maybe sleeping in the Sun, on a beach chair, hearing the ocean waves would prove to be a great way to fall asleep and actually...You know...Sleep!” she shrugged and turned around to leave, but he hooked the semi-circle part of his cane around her neck, bringing her back, making her yelp in shock. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’ve been acting off recently.” he limped in front of her, blocking the exit. “Ah, yes, of course. An anomaly in an otherwise boring human who is bound by routines. How could I forget how much you love solving these anomalies? But, you see, I’m not your patient, so I have to ask you to refrain from trying to diagnose me, and return to whatever your guy has.” she tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge, which only made her sigh in aggravation. “I think...You are hiding something.” House pushed her with his cane just enough to look at her better. “Yeah, you’ve got me. Something completely unexpected...Like...Vogler giving me a hard time and threatening to fire me, despite being the head of the Cardiology department...And Christmas is approaching and I’m as lonely as always...Oh, and, how could I forget, my family wants to visit. My family. Who hasn’t contacted me in like 15 years. Suddenly wants to visit me. I’m SURE they want to have a very nice, lovely chat with me. Now that you know how miserable my days have been lately, can I go back to being miserable in my own department, where I can actually do something productive with my time?” it wasn’t often when she got so worked up, but it was clear she was stressed out and needed some way to vent or relax. “Don’t you want to know the answer to your question?” he looked down for a few seconds, before looking in her eyes, noticing how her eyes were puffy and droopy, and her bottom lip was quivering lightly. “...I don’t know.” she muttered, moving past him and going back to the clinic to do her job as she’s supposed to.

Of course, Vogle continued to be a problem for everyone, Christmas passed and she was just as lonely as every other year, so she drunk herself to sleep while listening to old school songs from her native country, because no matter how silly they were, they still made her feel happy and nostalgic.

Things continued to go array for everyone in the hospital, so bad and so hard that the evil businessman called for a board meeting to fire House, which caused a shit ton of problems for everyone, especially Kat, Wilson and Cuddy...But the only ones who refused were the first two, which escalated to another meeting right then to fire them...On her own birthday, barely a week and a half after Christmas.

“Doctor Wilson, Doctor Black. I was hoping you were gonna miss this one.” Vogler said as soon as the two entered the office room and sat on their chairs next to each other. “A man is the sum of his actions. Here are a few of Dr. House’s. He violated a D.N.R. and was charged with assault. He brought a termite into the O.R. and spat on a surgeon. He accepted a Corvette from a patient who was a known member of the New Jersey Mafia.” the businessman began, only to get stopped by one of the surgeons. “Ed, look-” he tried to reason, but was harshly cut off. “Edward.” Vogler looked sharply at him. “Edward. You look at anyone’s career, you can find things that are-” the surgeon began to speak again, only to get quickly shut down. “These are the last 3 months! He’s personally had more complaints filed against him than any department in this hospital.” Vogler continued, and James tried to reason this time. “Okay. He’s screwed-up. He’s miserable. And he should probably re-read the ethics code, but it works for him. He’s saved hundreds of lives.” Wilson explained, but it was clear Vogler was on a war path. “He is a drug addict who flaunts his addiction and refuses to get treatment! He is a disgrace and an embarrassment to this hospital.” this statement made the red haired girl groan in annoyance and let herself fall back on the chair. “No, he’s not a drug addict, that’s what YOU want to see. How would you feel if your leg was in excruciating pain because of a surgery choice you had NO choice over, and yet, you still had to work, save lives, and think properly? House MAY look like he’s some kind of insane jerk, but he is known all over America for being THE best diagnostician and was able to save people that otherwise, in the hand of ordinary doctors, would have died. Oh, and, those complaints have always been revoked or solved once the patient...You know...LIVED! You just want him fired ‘cause he’s not being your obedient lap dog. If you are so brave to speak ill of a person when he’s not around, why don’t you also have the guts to speak the truth?” she leaned forward to glare at her enemy, as Wilson put his hand over hers, trying to calm her down. “Says the one who’s always by his side, helping him indulge in his nefarious medical fantasies. Let’s keep this simple. Either he goes, or I go.” Vogler spoke, making Katrina rest her chin on her hand, watching him closely. “You shouldn’t personalise this.” Lisa tried to reason, but this guy was over the limits. “And by I, I mean my hundred million dollars. How’s that for personalising?” he started at poor Lisa, who was in a huge dilemma. “Who knew adults could be so petty? You give us money for a reason, and then you threaten to take it away because one doctor, the only one who cares about his patients more than anything, does his job as he is supposed to. Very mature.” Kat sneered at him, rolling her eyes at him. “Gregory House is a symbol of everything wrong with the health care industry. Waste. Insubordination. Doctors preening like they’re kind, and the hospital is their own private fiefdom. Health care is a business, I’m gonna run it like one. I hereby move to revoke the tenure of Dr. Gregory House and terminate his employment at this hospital, effective immediately.” Vogler declared, which made the red head jump up from her seat and slam her hand on the desk. “Since when can you decide for everyone? Are you some sort of God or what? You are WRONG Ed. First of all, Gregory House is the ONLY doctor in this hospital who is capable of being perfectly objective and save ALL his patients, even from the weirdest, most unexpected diseases! Secondly, yeah, we ARE Gods, in a way! We actively get ourselves in the line to save hundreds of lives, we...We HOLD their fates in OUR hands! He is not the problem, and Health Care is NOT supposed to be a business! This is not a business corporate, this is a HOSPITAL! A place where we, DOCTORS, save lives! You wouldn’t get it, you’re not a doctor! You didn’t have to see people in agony, begging to be killed, nor did you have people crying in happiness for being saved! You know absolutely NOTHING of medicine! You have NO right to fire Gregory House, just like you have NO right to tell us, who spent over 10 years of our youth studying constantly, and more than 10 years having this healthcare as our everyday life style, that we should do this for money, and not for the people!” the room went silent from the shock of her outburst, since nobody, in 15 years, saw her so agitated, and yet, she was right...Against the wrong man. “Fascinating and touching speech, I must say. Now I know what I have to deal with. Now then, let’s resume to our votes. All in favour of firing Dr. Gregory House?” Vogler asked, cheekily raising his own hand, which was slowly followed by everyone, except for Katrina and James, who looked at each other with worry, letting their arms fall back from the table and holding hands for comfort. “Dr. Wilson? Dr. Black?” Vogler tried to nudge to give in, but it was for naught. “Opposed.” both of them answered in unison, knowing that either way, they’re screwed. “The...Motion is defeated.” the business man sighed, letting silence hang in for a few seconds, before speaking again, in a chirper voice. “Dr. Wilson, Dr. Black, would you mind leaving the room, please?” “Excuse me?” James asked, frowning in confusion at his words. “We’re going to take another vote.” Vogler explained, as if it was nothing. “We are board members. We have to be here when you vote. You can’t void our votes by making us stand in the hallway. And, as far as I’m aware, you need notice and at least one business day before you can reconsider any matter.” James continued, knowing very well that he can’t prolong the agony. “We’re voting on a different matter, which you are conflicted out of.” Vogler stood up, looking solemn over everyone. “How can we be conflicted out of? What is that even supposed to mean?” Katrina asked, looking at Lisa, who seemed to have an apologetic look on her face. “This vote is whether to dismiss Dr. James Wilson and Katrina Black.” everyone looked down hearing that...Katrina and James were a completely different matter, compared to House... “Oh, great, yes, fire everyone who is speaking the truth and doesn’t go by your stupid business idea. Newsflash, not everybody is a greedy fuckass like you are. Some of us are here because that’s why we wasted our life for! Saving! LIVES! If you guys, after so many years of working together, think that I and Wilson should leave, then fine, sure, vote yes. But if you’re doing it because of this guy...Then congratulations, welcome to communism. Trust me, I’d know, I’m Romanian.” looking with disgust at that guy, she grabbed her friend and left the office without another word, and when they got far enough, she slammed her back on a wall, pulling at her hair. “At least I know why House likes you. You were right. You have always been an admirable doctor. I hope one day he will appreciate you as he should. Its not like he has many people who actually tolerate him...” James put his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her out of having an anxiety attack, until Vogler came by, looking as menacing and narcissistic as usual.

He threatened both of them, saying they have the option of leaving the hospital, otherwise he will destroy them...Which means that there was at least one person who voted to keep them there.

There was no point in trying to comfort each other, so instead, they went to their own offices, packing up everything they owned. However, instead of packing, Katrina stood criss-crossed on her desk, looking at her prized possessions on the shelves, including her awards, diplomas, random little plants and flowers, cute decorations...And a fox that had a heart in its mouth, that she received as a gift from House, Wilson and Cuddy when she became the head of the Cardiology department.

She didn’t even realise how tears were falling down her face, she almost felt numb to it all, but in reality, her heart hurt like hell and she couldn’t imagine how life would continue to go on from now on.

The sound of the door softly opening was blocked away by her personal phone ringing, and with a lethargic move, she raised her phone, without looking at the caller ID, and answered.

“What do you want?” Kat sighed on the phone, not having the strength to fake cheerfulness as she usually did. “Oh, sweety, hi, how are you?” ...it was her mother...What a coincidence. “Why are you calling? You haven’t contacted me since I left the country. I’m not sure you realised the passing of time, but it’s been over 15 years.” the girl sneered over the phone, clutching her grip on it. “Don’t be like that, darling, I just wanted to see how my eldest daughter is doing! You see, we want to visit you tomorrow, and -” her mother began, but was quickly cut off by her daughter. “You’re in America?! Why in the world are you here?! You NEVER left the country!” her alarmed reaction was rightfully explained, as her mother only laughed fakely. “Well, you see, your sister is very sick and she needs organ transplants and...You are a perfect match! Your sister really, really needs your kidney, liver and heart, and -” of course the only reason she’d call is because she needed her... “You...Called...So that I would kill myself...And give my organs to your precious daughter...Because I don’t deserve to live, but she does...Sorry, you might not have been informed, I’m a stone cold bitch without a heart, and I’ve always been. If you want organs, beg to a transplant committee, otherwise, I’m not giving my life to some stupid bitch who thinks she’s better than me. Oh, and, by the way, in case you’ve forgotten, you already disowned me long ago, so there’s no reason for you to call anymore. And don’t call me to the funeral, I won’t come. Bye.” Kat aggressively slammed the phone lid close, before throwing it on the ground, putting her head on her hands and finally breaking down to cry...

But there were no tears.

There was only exhaustion.

“Hey.” the low voice of Doctor Gregory House echoed through the room which made the girl squeak in surprise and turn back to look at him with wide, frightened eyes. “Don’t you know it’s rude to sneak up on people?!” she accused him, clutching her blouse where her heart is supposed to be. “I knocked. You didn’t answer, I let myself in. I...See you’re not having the best day.” Greg pointed out, which only made the girl roll her eyes and turn back to look at her shelf. “Yeah, no kidding.” she snorted, her hands grasping her ankles as she looked down. “Why did you come here? Did Wilson tell you what happened and you came to throw some pity words and say how you saved the patient? If yes, then go ahead, I’m listening...As always.” she waved her hand around, urging him to talk and stop being so awkward, but the silence seemed to cut them with a laser. “...Thank you.” the words she never heard uttered from his mouth before shocked her so much that she turned around to look at him, holding the eye contact that she was barely able to hold with anyone. “You...You? Gregory House? Are...Thanking...Me? For what? You never thanked me for anything I did to you, so why the change of heart? Did Wilson’s golden tongue melt your heart and mellowed you?” she taunted him to get him talking, but his expression didn’t seem as harsh or condescending as it usually did, instead, he seemed to be...Almost apologetic? As if he realised that his actions of being himself hurt the people he cares about. “Do you hate me?” Greg asked, which made the girl frown and blink in confusion. “You...Think that I gave up the best thing I’ve ever had, which is my job here, because...I hated you? I loved this place because you were here...And James and Lisa...But now that it’s all over...What are the odds of someone hiring all three of us at once, and...Lisa miraculously becoming the head of another hospital and...Yeah, I’ve got nothing, it’s all ruined. Guess I can finally get a vacation. Anything else you want to say before I fuck off completely out of your life, just as you wanted to?” it was clear that she was exhausted and just wanted to go home and be herself with no more veil of lies covering her. “You...You are too good for jerks like me, Katrina. You should hate me. I repeatedly ruined your happiness time and time again.” House muttered, looking down at the floor. “Right...I’m sorry for caring about you, I guess...If that’s what you want me to say. Stupid Katrina, huh? Always caring about others and forget about herself. Always so miserable and helpless, but nobody seems to notice. Stupid, lonely Katrina, who has no friends and no relatives to care for her...Who only want her alive to donate all her organs to her sick sister and she can just die for all anyone cares. Now, thanks for telling me that I should hate the only person I actually gave a damn about and trusted whole-heartedly. You made your point, as usual, you want me out of your life, I will do just that. Have a not-so-miserable life from now on...At least you.” she wiped her face from the tears, waving her hand for him to leave her alone already, as she looked at shelves again and hugged the fox tightly to her chest, burying her face in it. “The answer is yes.” was the only thing House said as he left her office, his head hung, and for the first time in ages, he felt his own heart aching at the sight of the girl crying.

While he did as he usually does, spending all his time saving his patient, she drank herself to sleep, day and night, listening to sad songs, singing them at the top of her lungs, hoping it would be therapeutical, but at some point, she forgot what it meant to be properly rational, and she touched the forbidden stash she was never supposed to use.

And in the end, at whatever god forsaken hour of the early morning, she called someone, and dearly hoped they would answer. She had no idea why she called this person...Maybe because he was the first person in the calling list, or maybe there was some other underlying reason that she didn’t want to accept.

Apparently, being drunk out of your wits out on the terrace of her penthouse, while singing at the top of her lungs some silly or depressing Romanian songs, as outside was freezing cold and snowing heavily...But she didn’t feel the cold, despite how light she was dressed...It wasn’t enough make her feel something again.

“Katrina? Do you know what time it is?” a gruff, sleepy voice asked on the other end of the line. “N-No, not really. I wasn’t even sure who I called. Sorry.” she sighed, as she started to cry. “Are...You crying?” a rustle from the other side resembled House getting up rapidly from the bed. “I-I think so, y-yeah. I...I didn’t realise I was crying. I-I don’t even know why I called you.” she gasped, taking another shot of vodka mixed with chocolate bailey’s. “Are you drunk?!” House spoke in a higher voice, obviously shocked, putting on his coat. “You don’t even drink!...I’m coming over.” “N-No, y-you can’t! You can’t see me like this! And...And I have to know something very important from you! It’s VERY important! Life or death important!” she raised her voice into the phone, unkown to him, as she was fidgeting back and forth on the couch, which made House stop in his tracks just as he touched the door knob. “What is it?” he asked in a way so she would try to calm down. “D-Do you...Do you hate me?!” the desperation in her voice was something so foreign for him to experience, but something so usual for her. “What?! What’s that question, why in the world would I hate you?! Katrina, what did you do?!” he slammed the door shut, rushing towards his motorbike. “I NEED to know that! Just answer this simple question! Please, Greg, just answer!” her voice became more strained and desperate. “...Of course I don’t hate you. I couldn’t. Not you.” he sighed, getting up on his motorbike. “No matter what I did?” she started sobbing by now, which really worried the man. “Yes, of course, now hang in there, I’m gonna be there in a few minutes.” Greg put his phone on speaker, in his jacket, so he could still talk to her, as thankfully, their homes were pretty close to each other. “Greg...I-I’m...I’m afraid...I...I did something bad...Something very bad...” she turned around on the couch she was lying on, watching the sky as she shivered, snow falling on her, as she took another shot. “Katrina, I’m waiting at the elevator. What did you do?” House kept tapping his foot until that dreadfully slow elevator pinged, showing it got to the bottom floor, then got in, waiting to reach the pent house. “I...Took pills...” she muttered, clutching the box of pills. “How many?” he asked urgently. “I-I don’t know! I’m drunk, I’m hurting, I’m desperate, I’m lonely and I had a bottle of pills...One, two, three, four, five...And then it’s all blurry...But the bottle seems pretty empty...And I’m scared of an OD...” she explained over the phone, and then, she heard the front door slam close, and next thing she saw was a tall figure rushing in front of her, then he crashed on the couch on the terrace, and he pulled her to his chest, putting his jacket around her shoulders, his hands on her face, trying to warm her up. “You...Absolute...Idiot!” Greg scolded her, which only made her chuckle weakly. “I really am, aren’t I?” she said as more tears fell down her face. “You really don’t hate me, do you? Now that you know?” she clutched tightly to his Tshirt, as he could only sigh and hold her tightly. “No. I don’t hate you. I can’t...Now show me the pill bottle.” he told her, and suddenly, he felt her fall limp in his arms, just as she pointed to the empty, knocked down bottle of anti-drepressants. “What did you do...” Greg muttered in horror as he dragged her to the bathroom, getting her in the bathtub, completely dismissing his aching leg, as he used the shower tap to get warm water on her, while he made her vomit all the pills she downed, hoping she wouldn’t need to go to the hospital, and obviously, that nothing would happen to her.

For the whole night and morning, he didn’t move from there, only holding the girl, checking on her at regular intervals of time, making sure her vitals were still normal... Until she heard a string of incoherent mutters, begging him not to leave her alone and that she doesn’t want to to be away from him.

Oh, Kat, if only you knew what kind of effect you had on him...What kind of pain you were making him feel...The grief of being betrayed by Stacy, the one he thought was the love of his life, and then the painful leg...And now you, someone he cares so much for...

She deserves so much more...She is so much better than he is, House thought, and yet, the selfish part of him, the one that was quickly beginning to gain terrain against his sensible one, desperately wanted to cling onto her and have her be his lover together.

Funny how the ones who look to be the healthiest and happiest are in reality the best actors and nobody knows if there’s ever anything wrong with them. Which only made her kindness and feelings towards him more genuine, he thought. She’s in constant pain, just like him, it was no wonder she could sympathise so well with, unlike everybody else...Or maybe she was just empathetic enough? More like Pathetic, she’d say, no doubt.

Time passed at an irrelevant pace, until she finally began to stir in her unconscious state, and finally, she fluttered her eyes open, making Gregory sigh in relief, and as soon as they made eye contact, her cheeks began to turn a hue pinker.

“Greg...? Why are you...? What happened...?” Kat muttered, clutching her head in pain. “You don’t remember anything from last night?” he asked, frowning in confusion. “...Sorry. I know I was pretty sad...And I was listening to music from my childhood at home...And I started drinking...And I remember the bottle of pills taunting me...And from then on, it’s all blank. Did I...Did I call you...?” she clinged on his shirt to get into a sitting position. “Yeah, something like that. Can you stand? You need to change into dry clothes before you catch the Rhino thing.” he joked, making the girl smile softly. “Oh no, not the Rhino thing!” she chuckled, and with a bit of help, she got up, and was able to change into proper, warm clothes. “I’m starving, wanna go eat something? I have some coupons for the Chinese restaurant just down the street.” she hooked her arm to his, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Sounds like a plan, let’s go. But before that, you must promise me never to do something like that again.” House looked at her with seriousness in his eyes. “Okay. I promise. I...I don’t know why I caved in like that. I always promised myself I’d never go that far...I fucked up once, but in a different way...And...I guess in my drunk state I didn’t realise that no matter how many pills I take, the pain won’t go away...Drunk people are really stupid, aren’t they” she chuckled awkwardly, lowering her head in guilt and shame as she used her chopsticks to get some noodles. “...People in pain do stupid things sometimes.” Greg muttered, letting silence take over them for a few minutes, before speaking again. “Happy late birthday, Katrina.” his words made her look at him with eye, confused eyes, before taking out her phone at looking at the date, realising she spent her whole birthday drinking. “I...Completely forgot...Guess now we’re even, huh?” Kat smirked, pointing her chopsticks at him in amusement.

Not much time later, House called Kat over to his office at evening, and everyone dear to her was there, celebrating that Lisa managed to get rid of Vogler once and for all...Of course, of the 100 million $ too, but that’s besides the point. They were back in business, the shock family, ready to save more lives again!

Everything went back to normal - Or well, the normality that was entrapped in their weirdness - But it was THEIR normality. A chaos of going back and forth, arguing, almost killing patients, and then, saving them miraculously.

However, nobody is safe from illness, and one day, during some diagnosis discussion, Kat was pacing back and forth, thinking and saying her ideas for the others to refute or agree to, only for her to abruptly stop in her tracks, her back facing everyone as she coughed.

“Haemoptysis.” she muttered, only for House to grimace. “Haemo-what now? Last time I checked, our patient didn’t cough nor spit blood.” but instead of answering, she coughed up a bit more, her hands covering her face. “Vertigo...” she spoke again, in a much fainter voice. “What the hell are you babbling about?” he hit his cane on the ground, only to see her taking a few steps forwards, albeit, a little wobbly. “I’m...Gonna...” and just as she uttered those words, her legs gave out, and she fell, the only reason for not hitting the ground being Greg’s Godly reflexes which ensured he caught her. “Damn it, not again...What are you three sitting around for? Get a crash cart and a nurse!” House scolded his interns, who rushed to do just that. “What did you do this time, Kat...” he shook his head in disdain as he brushed her gorgeous crimson hair out of her face.

She looked so peaceful now, unconscious, were it not for the blood on her chin and hands, but now, unlike last time, she didn’t look like some kind of undead who was ready to give up her life at any given moment out of sheer misery and self-hatred.

As soon as she was taken away from his arms, he refused to go look over her...He didn’t want to admit it, but he was afraid that, since he cared so much about her, he would become unreasonably subjective and he may completely screw up her diagnosis. Greg hoped with all his heart that it was nothing life-threatening, but blood in her lungs was no easy, nor simple thing.

Wilson visited her and held her hand, Cuddy visited her and kissed her forehead, even his subordinates went to check up on her because they wanted to...Even her cardiology colleagues went to see how she was doing...

But not him. Never him. Because if he did, he was screwed for life.

No matter how much he wanted to deny himself, however, he couldn’t help but find himself in her room, in the middle of the night, sitting on a chair besides her, holding her hand in both of his, kissing it and thinking of her diagnosis.

That is, until her hand suddenly started to shake, startling the doctor besides her, as she opened her eyes, panting for air.

“Hey, you okay?” House asked, squeezing her hand gingerly. “Urgh, yeah...Just had a nightmare...Followed by sleep paralysis. Again. Nothing new, here. Uhmm...It may sound as a bit of a deja-vu, but what in the world happened?” she sighed, getting into a sitting position, looking at him. “You tell me. You coughed blood, got dizzy and fainted. Did you take anything? Felt bad or something?” he asked, making the girl scratch the back of her head awkwardly. “Nothing that I haven’t felt before, really. I have anxiety, I frequently experience restlessness, problems with breathing, arrhythmia, sometimes dizziness and stuff. It’s inconvenient, but you get used to it, so I didn’t took any pills, especially not after that scare a few days ago. Do you...Think it’s because of...My fuck up?” she looked worriedly at him, but he only looked down, thinking. “Not so fun being on the other end, huh?” House smirked before shaking his head. “I have no idea. We need to do some tests on you before we can confirm anything. But you’ll be fine, that much I can guarantee.” he promised, which made her smile sadly, leaning back on the pillow, squeezing his hand back. “Can you stay with me a bit longer? I, uhm...You know...Problems sleeping...When I’m with someone...I tend to sleep better...And a close to a full night. I-I don’t know why, but it’s always been like this.” she brought up the hem of the blanket to cover her face. “Then get a boyfriend and sleep with him. You’re young, smart and beautiful, there’s nothing stopping you from that.” Greg muttered in a low voice, almost self-deprecating. “Yeah, that’s easy. If men actually went out of their way to talk to me...And that hasn’t happened in 15 years, so, as you say, Mazel Tov. That, and I’m afraid of people.” she sighed, biting her lip in embarrassment. “Whaaaaaat? No boyfriend in 15 years? No action? I don’t believe you.” he took off the blanket from her face, only to see her blushing face. “You’re the only person that I never lied to. I’m great at lying and deceiving and all that...But yeah, I know, I’m pitiful, don’t have to remind me. Why do you think my life is mostly spent in the hospital. I’m not as lonely as I’d be at home.” she looked away, snatching her blanket back. “You don’t have to stay. It’s much more comfortable sleeping in a bed, especially with that leg of yours.” “Yeah, it would be. Now close your eyes and get some sleep.” and so, he didn’t budge from her side the whole night, and she didn’t wake up from nightmares or restlessness.

Days went on, and she kept on getting tested, and House was beginning to get more and more angry at the fact that he wasn’t able to properly diagnose her faster, and he was becoming unbearable for everyone around him.

On the other hand, just as Lisa and James were visiting her, trying to keep her company, when the two people she never expected to see again burst into her room with wide grins on their faces...Which in turn, made Kat drop her phone on the ground from the shock.

“What the hell...?” the red haired girl’s bottom lip quivered in anger. “Kitty-Kat, darling, we missed you so much! You haven’t come home in 15 years!” the mum stepped forward, ready to throw her arms around the girl, but she was met with hostility as Kat dragged herself backwards in the bed, away from her, pure disgust glowing on her face. “Don’t you dare touch me! And don’t you even think about calling me that nickname! I don’t care if you’re my parents, you never gave a damn about me, so don’t pretend to do now that THE perfect daughter is terminally sick and needs a quick organ donation that would ultimately KILL the useless, unwanted, worthless daughter!” Kat sneered at them, untangling the respiratory oxygen tubes who got knotted in her sudden gesticulation. “Kat, are you alright...?” James walked next to her bed, trying to calm her down, only to get yelled at. “No, I’m not! Get them out of here before I get a restriction order!” she continued to glare at them. “Come one, Kitten, don’t be like that, we came all the way from Europe to see you, when you didn’t even give us a call! I don’t know why you hate us.” the dad gave an awkward smile, as if he was embarrassed by his problematic child. “You didn’t call once to tell me Happy Christmas, or...Or Happy Birthday...You didn’t congratulate me on finishing University or on...Literally anything. And now, you come to me only to make sure that I actually die so you could take away my organs and make sure your favourite daughter keeps on living...And you’re actually...You really...Have the guts to ask me WHY I hate you? I hate you because you never cared for me, that’s why!” she gripped the hand grasps of the bed, not realising that House also got in the room. “No need to be so selfish, darling, it’s just a few organs that you could live without! We managed to find a heart transplant, we just need a kidney and part of your liver!” the father tried to negotiate, only for her to grit her teeth. “You know what? I hope my sister dies the most painful death there is, and that you go off after her. We may be blood related, but I was never your daughter. And you know what? Just to make sure...You think you can get my organs? Here’s my response to that!” in a fit of rage, she ripped her oxygen tubes, which continued with violent coughing and some blood. “Why the hell do you even want me to treat you when all you do is get yourself in self-harming situations? First, you OD on anti-depressants while drunk, and now you’re cutting off your oxygen supply to prove your point that you have mummy and daddy issues and that you’d rather die than...Die? You’re just a selfish, immature girl with suicidal tendencies whenever things don’t go her way. You think I’m gonna lie to the transplant committee for someone like that? Because the answer is NO!” House limped in front of her, speaking with so much hatred that it made the girl cry and shake, crestfallen at the words she heard. “And you just had to go ahead and tell everyone that I’m fucked in the head. I wonder how much that is gonna up my chances of actually...Making friends and...A boyfriend...Y’know...Literally anyone who’d actually give a fuck about me. So...Yeah, thanks, you’re right, I’d rather die than being humiliated by the only person I ever actually had any genuine feelings for, because I’m sort of a sociopath with relationship traumas. So, if you could do me a favour, before I pass out, pick these two idiots and get yourself out of this place before I call security, okay? Thanks, bye.” and just like that, she started coughing up more blood, and fainted.

Seeing her being a reckless idiot drove House through the roof, and he realised that maybe, his dad wasn’t the only one to need a “Parent Of The Year” award, but even so, the fact that Katrina was so angry that she felt the need to be so overly dramatic to prove a point, and to have Cuddy kick them out of the hospital, sure was meant she was desperate, and for good reason. No wonder she never spoke about her family, or about anything about herself, unless it meant some nostalgic things about her country and other things that could come up as funny when told properly.

But why the hell does she have to make everything so much more complicated to him, especially now that he completely screwed up everything and she hates him.

How the hell did he manage to fuck up like that, just when he finally got ready to tell her how he feels...How he GENUINELY feels, without having to get full-sarcastic-jerk mode, and just telling her that he’s over Stacy completely and he’s ready to commit to her...And he just ends up basically telling her that he hates her, which is a complete lie.

Great job, Gregory House. The only thing you’re capable of doing is diagnosing and saving people, and sometimes, even that fails. Good thing she was okay, and with some anti-coagulant medicine, the clot that was causing her pulmonary embolism completely disappeared, and she was all ready to go.

Ever since that day, House didn’t visit her, her parents completely disappeared, and James and Lisa were completely pitiful, which only made the girl miserable. Thanking whatever deity existent that it was the last night being stuck in the hospital as the unfavoured party, so she went up on the roof, sitting on the little wall edge, looking up at the starts on the sky, putting the saddest song she ever knew to play on her MP3 player, which was “Daca ploaia s-ar opri” from Cargo, and as she softly sang the lyrics, the door opened and the sound of tapping cane was heard,

youtube

“I have no idea what the words are, but he song seems pretty sad. What gives?” House limped towards her, which only made her groan and roll her eyes in annoyance. “Aaaand you had to ruin the most emotional song as well. Great, what is next on your long list of destroying? I have no dignity, no pride anymore...My health you can’t legally screw...And there’s nothing else on the table is there? I have no heart anyway. So why are you here?” she asked, not even bothering to look at him. “Would you believe me if I said I came here to apologise?” House asked, getting closer to her, then turning his head to look up at the stars as well. “After what you pulled in that room...No. I don’t believe you anymore. You’re a jerk. You’ve always been one, but not to me, and not enough to actually hurt me. Now you did. Congratulations. You lost a friend...Not that you’d care, anyway. You’ve proven me that enough. You can go now.” she sighed, hugging her knees to her chest. “Yeah, I know, I fucked up. I got scared when I saw you pull that stunt, I panicked and...That happened. And I’m sorry about that. I admit that much.” he said as he put his coat around her, hoping she wouldn’t die of cold or something. “Fantastic, the asshole knows how to apologise. Congratulations, you are amazing. Now, do you actually expect me to believe you, or what are you trying to accomplish?” Kat asked, giving him a sarcastic smile. “Before you got sick, I was...I was going to ask you out. But then you got sick, and in turn I got worried sick.” Greg began to explain, only to get cut off. “No, you’re lying or pitying me. You don’t like me. I’m not...I’m not Stacy, or...Or Lisa. I don’t challenge you with every turn you take, I’m not a jerk to you, I am...Practically nothing like the women that you have been interested with, so excuse me for not believing a word you say. I was sick, vulnerable and pitiful, you were miserable, you heard that I haven’t dated in 15 years, you thought I was desperate for love, but trust me, after what happened when I was 17...I don’t think I want anything like that again.” she tsked, looking away from him, laying her chin on her knees. “I know I’m a jerk, but does that really sound like something I would do?” his voice sounded almost hurt at the implication. “...No, it doesn’t. But I also don’t believe that you like me and you’re not saying that just because you heard my dying words...Allegedly. You’ve said your speech, now you can go, and we will continue our work as it always was, without having to see each other, so no more paging me when it’s convenient to you either. Goodbye.” she waved her hand to dismiss him, but he didn’t budge. “What will it take for you to believe me? I will give up my parking spot for you. I will play the guitar for you. I...Will convince Wilson to give me his stupid dog so you could visit him more often. I don’t know, you know I’m horrible with these things called emotions. But I want you to know that what I say its genuine...And apart from what I said today, I never lied to you. So, if you ever have it in your heart to believe me and give it a chance...I’ll be waiting. And...I’ll be here to listen to you talk about your pain as well.” he confessed, and as soon as he turned around to leave, she quickly extended her arm to grab his wrist. “You...Really...Mean it?” she muttered, not daring to look at him. “Because if you fuck up, I swear I’m going to do something completely unethical and against the Hippocratic oath. Primum non nocere, they say. First of all, don’t do harm. I’m completely fine with killing you, because, in case you don’t know, I’m a sociopathic, heartless foreigner with no morals or ethics.” she smirked at him in amusement. “There’s nothing wrong with a bit of Nocere, if you have the Vicodin for it. Fire-Kissed girls are said to kiss the best. If we test that theory and it’s true...Then I think we both know we’re gonna work pretty well. If you want to.” he looked at her, putting her hands of her face, looking at her tenderly. “I really hate that I was made broken from the making in factory to be completely unable of hating how big of a jerk you are. Why is it so...Endearing, when it comes from you, but completely repulsive when it comes from anyone else? I can’t tell, and it’s annoying, because I can read people to a T. On the other hand...There is another saying...Vixens always get what they want. Maybe I finally scored the big jackpot.” she chuckled, pulling him down in a soft kiss, the feeling of warmth and love lingering on, intoxicating them even after they parted. “Yeah. I was right. You’re like my own fix of Vicodin or Amphetamines, and I’m completely addicted to you.” he flashed her a charming, playful smile, before kissing her with even more fire and passion than before. “Careful, you don’t want to OD, do you? You’ll need a detox or rehab.” she laughed at him, putting her hands over his, kissing the inside of his wrist. “Oh, please, I’d OD on you ever day, as many times as you want, and I’d have no regrets. You know what they say...Tout le monde necessite La Petite Mort.” he retorted just as cheekily, which in turn, made her laugh merrily. “I can’t believe-! You just...You just said that-...! You’re an incredibly, annoyingly good flirter, especially because I told you those pick up lines before...But don’t forget about me.” she shook with laughter, winking at him mischievously. “Wilson’s ex-wives always praise him for being the best. I’ll prove him I’m better than him at everything. Especially this.” he chuckled, sitting next to her, putting his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his chest, kissing the top of her head. “You better not talk about...That...To Wilson...Or Lisa...Or anyone, for the matter, or I swear, that little death you’re talking about, will be more literal than metaphorical.” she threatened him, poking his sides. “Oh, no, I’m scared of a little fox biting my nose while I’m asleep. Whatever could I do?” he mockingly called for help, which, as usual, made her laugh. “Jerk.” she grinned, hugging him tightly, cuddling closer to his side. “Yeah. I’ve been called that a lot.”

#house md #gregory house #gregory house x reader #gregory house imagine #gregory house x oc #james wilson #lisa cuddy #katrina black #robert chase #allison cameron #eric foreman #house md x reader #house md imagine

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modgirlyreposts-revamped · 3 years

Note

Millie headcanons!!

- I see her as having more of a gothic lolita/almost Victorian gothic style tbh? Basically she dresses like Lydia Deetz in Beetlejuice. However I love throwing in more mall goth aspects too. Fancy black dress, messy looking makeup, demonia boots, Victorian mourning jewellery, and spiked choker & bracelets kinda thing you get me?

- Bullied kid with comorbid probably undiagnosed ADHD and depression type beat

- I imagine ITP takes place in like, early or maybe mid 2010s. I've seen on this blog once or twice the idea of Millie being around the pizzaplex and i love that idea but I always saw her as like, a closer to classic Freddy Fazbear's kid.

- Her family is pretty well off. That's why she can actually afford to dress the way she does (yeah I'm jealous what of it)

- She likes horror a Lot. It's something of a hyperfixation of hers, but it leaves her grandpa quite concerned because My Granddaughter Has Been Holed Up In Her Room Watching Horror Movies All Day Is She Mentally Stable

- I know in canon she was only going to stay with her grandpa while her parents were away but I got the vibes that her grandpa basically helped raise her. (In my own weird au where millie and sarah like, band together with the other protags to investigate freddy fazbears and specifically the bite of 83 and shit she just full on lives with him lol)

- She's intimidating as Fuck when she gets mad.

- Her hair is not naturally black (not sure what color it Is tho, maybe blonde??), but she dyes it (I also imagine she likes to throw in some purple streaks or a black to purple ombre sometimes)

- She has like 3 piercings on each ear. The second set no one knew she was getting until she came back home from going out to do so. She was banned from getting piercings as a punishment so the third one was also a secret no one in the family noticed for like months.

- She would love FNaF. I feel like she'd make "man behind the slaughter" jokes. Is that old? Me and my sister still do it.

- She is absolutely awful with kids, but they love her. She goes out to the park with a black umbrella to brood dramatically in the shade and from the playground she just hears "Millie!!" And then a small crowd of children runs up asking if she'll play with them. She always gives in and agrees to play in the end. She can never even remember their names or anything but they see the sad girl in all black and immediately know She's Friend. She would die for them.

- Oswald is her surrogate brother and ok now that I'm thinking abt millie in the pizzaplex era Gregory would be too 100%.

- She likes chocolate. She gives me the vibes of someone who just, chocolate everything. Her grandpa buys chocolate chips for baking and Millie eats them all.

- As a kid she cried a lot and didnt know how to/was too afraid to stand up for herself. She has a lot of repressed anger from those years and tends to dramatically overreact as a result (I'm not projecting what do you mean)

[TW for implied abuse for the next three]

- OK BOUNCING OFF THAT ONE HC THAT DYLAN HAS DID AS SOMEONE WHO MAYBE HAS IT MYSELF I LOVE THAT. I have an Idea for how it would've formed which is that his familial situation is Very Not Good. Anyways I think, he has probably abt 10 ish alters, Millie would get along with most of his alters. I think Dylan would have multiple persecutor alters which r alters who formed from trauma who harm the body or other alters to try and protect them. Millie actually gets along surprisingly well with one of them.

- On another note w/ Dylan tho Millie's grandpa meets Dylan, finds out just a little bit abt his family and basically tells him like "my home is your home, if you're not safe there, you're always welcome here" so <3 he likes to spend basically all his time at Millie's grandpa's house and he doesnt say it but he worries hes like is your home really that bad do I need to call CPS?

- Millie's parents come home at the end of the year and are like well what'd we miss? And her grandpa's like look at my new grandson Dylan :) Dylan come out and say hi!! And out comes a teenage boy with bright red hair, a bunch of piercings (also a scar on one ear), wearing spiky platform boots, spiked bracelets and choker like Millie's (but in white w/ black spikes) and patched black jeans, wiping Pop Tart crumbs off a My Chemical Romance shirt and he just looks up at them totally nonchalantly and goes "Heyo" and walks off and they're like MAURICE WHAT THE HELL?!? WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET THIS KID?!?! JUVIE?!!?!??

- Millie's grandpa doesn't Know Dylan has DID 100%- Dylan hasn't told him and doesn't plan to- but he notices major changes in personality from time to time and catches Millie, Sarah or Brooke calling him different names occasionally. That plus his vague knowledge of what goes down at Dylan's house, he's sorta put the dots together on his own, but he hasn't said anything yet.

- Ok so like, I love the idea of Brooke having like a pastel/bubblegum-bitch aesthetic. One time Brooke dressed Millie up in a pastel goth style (and Dylan gave her a scene/emo style) and at the time she was like it's so BRIGHT it's so SOFT WHAT but shes been thinking about that ever since and occasionally while shopping she'll pick out a pair of cutesy/pastel earrings or a neon accented choker or something like that.

- Brooke introduces Millie and Dylan to Marina. Millie introduces Brooke to MCR (or something, idk, for as much of a goth as I am I mostly listen to Penelope Scott). Dylan introduces them both to FaLiLV (a Japanese band). Brooke does not like their taste in music.

- Millie's idea of calming down is laying on her bed and listening to screamo.

This took me an hour and a half I'm sorry

ADHAKFJHSJKJHKDSSJFD I LOVE THESE-

The one about Millie being terrible with children but them loving her anyway, is so accurate to my Millie as well. She can take care of a child about as well as she can take care of herself (not much at all-), but her cousins absolutely love when she babysits them, and Gregory looks up to her as a role model (Millie's just like "thanks, but reconsider!" lol)

And the one with Millie's grandpa practically adopting Dylan, I swear ur trying to kill me with wholesomeness, I love them sm. In my AU if Dylan was having issues with his family and Millie's grandpa found out, he'd just calmly stand up and walk into the garage, coming back with a baseball bat. He'd calmly tell Millie and the others that he's just going to have a "talk" with Dylan's parents, while Millie knowing damn well just what he means by that starts chasing after him telling him not to do this, Dylan not far behind.

Dylan's parents would just hear someone pounding on their door, and when they answer there's just an extremely tired and pissed off 60 something year old man on their doorstep, and two teens attempting to hold him back, all while Millie's grandpa is shouting a load of expletives at them.

The whole time Dylan is just panicking, and is all like "M-Mr. Fitzsimmons, you don't have to do this!", whereas Millie knows that her grandfather will not calm down until someone is at least hospitalized.

#asks #answered #spirits-in-the-wind

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haileygarciasunshine · 4 years

Text

Forbidden

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 738

Warning: None.

Summary: The reader develops unlikely feelings for Draco. What will happen when her friends find out?

Draco Malfoy Masterlist

“Y/N?” Ginny questioned beside you.

You hummed in response.

“What’re you looking at?” She asked attempting to look.

“Oh. Uh.” You hesitated. “Nothing..”

“It sure doesn’t seem like nothing.” Ginny pointed out. “Come on. Tell me. Was it a boy?”

Sighing you pinched the bridge of your nose as you took a sip of your butter beer. “Ginny..Can we not do this?”

“Do what?” She asked shrugging nonchalantly.

Laughter and arguments filled the air in Three broomsticks.

“So it was a boy.” She teased, as she glanced over her mug. “Go on then. I won’t tell the others us girls have to stick together.”

Groaning you knew she would persist until you told her. “Fine. I was looking at boy. It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal?” She nearly shrieked. “Y/N any guy would be lucky to have you. You’re brilliant!”

“Who’s brilliant?” Ron questioned as he sat beside you.

“Y/N.” Ginny replied.

“I have to agree with Ginny.” Harry commented, taking a seat beside her.

��Ron you seriously got more food? We just ate!” Ginny exclaimed.

Ron rolled his eyes, at his sister turning his attention back to his food. Somehow during the rest of the time in Hogsmeade you were able to keep your friends minds off of asking you anymore questions.

Walking to the next village shop, you accidentally ran into another person.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You muttered.

“It’s alright...Y/N?”

“Gregory?” A soft smile made its way across your lips. Throwing your arms around him, you pulled him in for an excited hug.

“Long time, no see.” He whispered in the hug.

You hummed in response. Pulling away, you and Gregory began walking down the center path of Hogsmeade, catching up in each others lives.

“Have you heard from Draco?” Gregory questioned.

Frowning slightly, you shook your head ‘No.’

“Y/N...” Gregory stated. “Why...Why can’t you two be friends?”

“Gregory.” You sighed. “He’s moral enemies with my friends. I doubt they would be all too happy to find out I was friends with Draco.”

Gregory hesitated. “He...He misses you.”

You scoffed in response. “Gregory if he missed me, he would sure as hell be trying a lot harder than he has been.”

“You’re the only one besides my mom that calls me by my full name.” Gregory pondered aloud.

“Y/N.” A husky voice murmured in front of you.

Stopping in your tracks, you gawked at the man before you. “Draco?”

“Hey.” He muttered softly, looking down at his feet.

Before you could process your motions, you were running towards Draco, throwing yourself at him pulling him in for a bone crushing hug. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, tears began pooling in your eyes. He nuzzled his face into your neck, as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He whispered.

A few weeks had passed since the last time you had seen Draco. The sound of soft pelts hitting the window woke you up. Groaning you looked at the time. 3:30am.

Walking over to the window, you opened it leaning out slightly.

“Y/N.” Draco called from below.

“Draco?” You questioned confused.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Draco...”

“Please.”

Sighing you responded. “Fine.”

Closing the window softly, you looked at Ginny making sure you didn’t wake her. Putting on shoes, you made your way down the Weasley’s stairs before meeting Draco outside.

“Hey.” You muttered.

“Hey.” He responded, holding his hand out for you to take.

Accepting his hand, he lead you through the weeds. Turning towards you he let go of your hand.

“Promise me something.” Draco started.

You hummed in response.

“Promise me you’ll be safe.” He said hesitantly.

Tilting your head to the side, you nodded. “Of course. I always am.”

He sighed in frustration. “No, this is different.” He rubbed his face. “I...I.”

Stepping closer to him, you leaned up pressing your lips to his. Catching him off guard, he took in a sharp breath. His hands landed on your hips holding you to him. Pulling back slightly, you fisted his shirt.

“Something bad is coming...” He started. “I...I just need you to promise that you’ll be safe.”

“I promise.”

Leaning his forehead against yours, breath mingled as you caught your breath.

“What is coming Draco?” Ron questioned from behind you.

Turning to gaze at him, his arms were crossed over his chest.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tag List:

@igoldieloxi @astudyoftimeywimeystuff

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takeiteasypeasybaby · 4 years

Text

Save Me: Chapter 48 - Love Conquers All

~Hey guys! Chapter 48 is out today :) I hope everyone enjoys it, there is some donnie love in this chapter ;)~

Molly finds her purpose and takes valuable advice from someone she trusts. She makes a realisation about herself and her relationship, but most importantly, about the type of person she is.

I stormed back up to the house, throwing open both doors as I barged through.

I ripped off my jacket and unhooked the holsters around my legs, kicking off my shoes simultaneously.

I paced in circles, clenching my fists and feeling like I could scream.

I spotted Gregory's old liquor cabinet and lunged for it like it was a safety raft.

I frantically pushed aside bottles, searching for the bourbon when Daryl came through into the house.

'Molly...' he said slowly like he was worried for me.

'Yes!' I yelled as I found the bourbon and with a shaking hand, I poured a full glass, gulping it down in one.

Daryl stayed silent, with only a raised brow to signal his concern.

I closed my eyes as the liquid soothingly burned my throat, only opening my eyes when Daryl repeated 'Molly'.

My eyes focussed on his like he was my prey as I yelled at him, saying 'what?!'.

'It was the only way' he said calmly.

I got up to my feet, placed down the drained glass and chuckled angrily, 'I could have done more, I should have protected her' I said as the smile faded from my lips.

Daryl looked down and said, 'she wasn't our problem to begin with'.

At this, I marched over to him, annoyed by his lack of compassion.

I tilted his head upward to meet my eyes as I said sternly 'she wasn't, she is now, so don't act like you don't care. You know what she went through...more than any of us'.

He remained silent but simply nodded slightly in agreement.

I went back over to the bourbon and poured another glass as Daryl left the room.

The liquor almost spilt as I sunk down onto the chair, my limbs feeling numb as I just sat in silence.

A couple hours later...

I sighed and walked back outside, grabbing my gun and putting in my back pocket just in case.

I saw Tara sitting at one of the picnic tables, her head resting on her folded arms.

She must have felt as badly as I did.

'You okay?' I asked as I sat on the other side.

'Are you?' she responded as she lifted her head up heavily.

'No, but I will be. We gotta be' I said, feeling deflated.

I looked to my right at the guard post which was strangely vacant.

I furrowed my brows and asked Tara anxiously 'where's Yumiko and Magna?'.

She hesitated, saying 'I didn't wanna tell you, I mean you already had enough to deal with...'.

'Tara' I said sternly.

'They went out to the forest, they weren't looking for Lydia, but they just needed to get out' she answered softly.

I sighed and balled my hands into fists in frustration.

'Fuck, they didn't ask me?' I said angrily.

Tara just shook her head in response.

'When did they leave?' I asked frantically as I stood up and walked towards the gates, Tara following after me.

'I think an hour ago' she admitted.

I turned back around and sighed, saying 'next time, tell me'.

I ordered the gates to be opened as I strode out to see Yumiko and Magna standing on the other side.

'Hey' Yumiko said nervously as Magna just folded her arms.

I asked cooly, 'whatcha find?'.

'Nothing' Magna said looking down.

'Look, it was wrong of us to leave. I just wish we'd realised that sooner. I should've...' Yumiko said sincerely.

'Tara saw you sneak out, I was coming to see if you guys were okay, I'm not taking any chances' I said calmly.

I looked down to the ground and exhaled.

'Look, I get why you did it, I needed space after that shit too. But, the next time you wanna leave or challenge one of my decisions, just come and talk to me about it' I said softly.

'If I'm honest, I don't know if I'm doing the right thing here' I said sadly.

'But I do know that I don't want any more people to die and that includes you guys too' I said smiling weakly which made Yumiko smile and Magna just nodded softly.

I suddenly had an idea and brought the guys back inside as I walked back up to the house.

'Uh oh, I know that look' Tara said as I walked past her, now smiling.

She hopped up and walked with me inside to our radio room.

I wired it up and tuned for a connection to Alexandria.

'Michonne, come in Michonne' I spoke through the walkie talkie.

'Auntie Molly!' a little voice on the other side excitedly.

'Judith?' I asked as I checked my watch, 'it's late, why aren't you in bed?' I added.

There was silence before she replied quietly, 'that doesn't matter, my mom needs you at Alexandria'.

'What? She didn't say anything since she left?' I asked curiously.

'There were walker masks found near Alexandria so everyone is freaking out! Negan as well!' she yelled.

'Shit, I can't leave right now Judith' I replied sadly.

'Language!' she shouted which made me chuckle.

'Sorry' I said quietly.

'Why is Negan worried?' I asked softly.

'I told him about Lydia so he's worried for you, he thinks you're not safe' she whispered.

'Judith! that's confidential right now' I said in faux annoyance.

'Well it's out now' she said nonchalantly.

I paused for a minute while I thought about what to do.

'Alright, I'll get there by tomorrow at noon' I said calmly.

'Yay!' Judith said excitedly as she said goodbye and disconnected the line.

Tara looked at me for a second, completely aware of what I was planning.

'I need to see Michonne, maybe we can join forces to fight these bastards and help Lydia in the process' I said proudly.

'Do you need me to take over while you're gone?' she asked.

'Are you sure Cindy won't mind you being here for a little while longer?' I asked with concern.

'She won't mind, she said she'll come down to Hilltop anyway, she always said she wanted to live here with me, now that Rachel is old enough to take over' she said happily.

I nodded as I smiled, feeling relieved to have an actual plan that could work.

The next morning...

I awoke refreshed and determined, I grabbed my rucksack, hopped on my bike and then I was off.

I hugged Judith who was waiting excitedly at the gates and spoke briefly to Michonne, explaining to her what Judith had told me.

She told me that I didn't need to come but she was all the more relieved that I had and that she would help us, because of the threat the whisperers posed to all of our communities.

I walked happily to the cell, knowing that I would get to see him again.

With everything going on at Hilltop, I felt at peace being in his presence.

'Hey' I said softly as I smiled at him.

He jumped up and clung to the bars, 'Molly, are you alright? Michonne told me what happened, fuck I'm so glad you're okay' he said frantically.

I smiled widely at his concern for me.

'I'm fine, but I need your advice' I said as I unlocked the door with the keys Seth had snuck me.

I think he secretly rooted for us.

He hugged me softly and kissed my forehead.

'That's what I like to hear' he said smirking down at me.

I ushered him over to his bed, so we could sit side by side.

'What did Judith tell you about Lydia?' I asked quietly.

'She said she was the leader's daughter and that the skins came for her' he said softly as I nodded in response.

'Her mother beats her, Negan. I can't stand the thought of her being with that woman, constantly in danger. I need to get her out of there, but I can't put my people at risk' I said worriedly.

Negan rubbed my back, knowing how stressed I was.

'Alright, you wanna know what I'd do?' he asked confidently.

I nodded slightly.

'That woman is a goddamn asshole beating on a kid, so screw em. Tell your people the risk, let them know what they're in for. Give them a choice, to follow you or not' he said passionately.

I could tell he missed this.

'That's not like you, since when do you give people a choice. I thought you would say punish them all!' I replied sarcastically.

'I would've, told ya I've changed' he replied smirking.

'I'm serious Moll, the kid needs you' he added as he stroked my face softly.

I closed my eyes and smiled at his touch, leaning in, I kissed him gently.

When we pulled away, I whispered 'thank you' against his lips.

I stood up about to leave but turned around in realisation.

'I always somehow find myself coming back to you, every time' I said softly as a smile grew across my face.

He looked up at me intensely.

'I know...that's when you know it's real' he replied with a slight smile, like he was overwhelmed by us.

He stood up and sauntered over to me.

He wrapped his arms around my waist, one hand cupping my chin as he pulled me in for another kiss goodbye.

I got lost in his lips and pulled away reluctantly which made him groan in frustration.

'To be continued...' I whispered as I smiled, reminiscing about when he spoke those words to me, all those years ago.

He immediately remembered and chuckled against my lips as I left the cell, passing the keys back to Seth to lock his door.

I smiled to myself, knowing now what I needed to do.

Little did I know then that Daryl would beat me to it.

Daryl's POV//

I packed a rucksack, grabbed my crossbow and made my way down to the gates.

I saw her, Connie, sat at the picnic bench.

She was writing something on her notepad when she suddenly looked up and smiled at me.

When she noticed me, I looked away immediately and walked awkwardly past her.

She jumped up after she finished writing and ran after me until she stopped in front of me.

'Where are you going?' she had written on the pad.

I paused before I took out the notepad she gave me and pulled up the page Henry had left me, 'couldn't live with it, left to find Lydia'.

She wrote again, 'I'm going with you'.

I looked at her and said 'no' as I moved past her.

She stopped in front of me again and pointed at her words with a look of determination in her eyes.

'Why?' I asked, as she wrote again, 'I can't live with it either'.

I looked at her again and silently walked past her again, she ran after me as Dog followed us.

I couldn't stop her this time, maybe I wanted her there.

#negan #negans thirst squad #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan #twd #the walking dead #mollychambler #saveme #negan x original female character #the walking dead negan #donnie twd #daryl dixon

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aewriting · 4 years

Text

Loathly - Chapter 3

Here is Chapter 3 of my “Sir Gawain and the Dame Ragnell” Malex AU. Enjoy!

Previous parts are here on AO3.

Warnings for some homophobia, threats of violence, ageism and sexism.

***

The day arrives, and Jesse breezes back to the old woman’s cottage, all pomp and circumstance. There’s always tension around Jesse, but it’s heightened now.

“I wish to see the hag,” he announces.

Alex’s jaw tightens. “Do you mean the Lady Guerin, father?”

Jesse scowls at him. “Yes. Lady Guerin. The hag.”

Alex shakes his head a bit. “She is saving your life.”

Jesse scoffs. “Have you gone soft for your bride to be?”

Flint laughs at that. “I think soft is the only thing Alex can be with a woman.”

Gregory stifles a laugh, but Jesse just holds up a hand. “Bring her to me, now.”

Alex bites back a retort, goes to the door of the cottage, knocks twice. Lady Guerin opens the door after a few moments, revealing an outfit Alex has never seen before – a simple dress, cheap, even, but overlaid with a beautiful cloak, trimmed in gold thread and seed pearls. It’s long on the woman, as if it had been made for someone taller.

“Good morning to you, Lady Guerin.”

“And good morning to you, Sir Alex.” She peeks around him, raises an eyebrow inconspicuously. “The King is here, I see.”

“Indeed,” Alex says. “He wishes to speak to you.”

She sighs, then reaches up to Alex’s tunic, grasps it. Pulls him in close. “Your father is a cruel king and a worse man,” she says, voice low. “I confess that I am torn. I have his answer, I know it to be true, but…” she pauses, “I find myself contemplating giving him an alternative response.”

Alex’s jaw drops involuntarily. “My, my lady,” he falters. “What you are suggesting, it’s – “

“Justice?”

“Treason.”

She releases his tunic, and he stumbles back a bit. Her grip had been surprisingly strong.

“If you cross him, you’ll be dead. My brothers will see to it. The… the whole reason you proposed this was for protection. Why even think about endangering yourself?”

She stares at him for a long time, a strange expression on her face. “If you don’t know now, I believe you will find out soon,” she says cryptically, not even waiting for a response before pushing past him, cloak flowing regally behind her.

“Finally!” Flint calls when the Lady Guerin exits the cottage. “Thought perhaps you two lovebirds were having a tumble.”

“Flint,” Alex says sharply. He looks to the Lady Guerin to gauge if she is offended, but instead she is just staring at Flint, an amused, almost pitying expression on her face. She straightens, then, and faces Jesse.

“My king,” she says, a bit overdramatically, curtsying low.

“Today is the day. I would take you with me, but King Noah was very clear that it should be just me. You will remain here under guard until I have safely returned.” His face goes cold, even colder than usual. “And if I do not return, you are to be publicly executed, in as painful and creative a way as can be conceived.”

The woman doesn’t even flinch. “Of course, my king,” she says, so sweetly.

Jesse glares at her a while longer before drawing himself up to his full height. “And so, it comes time to tell us all the answer to King Noah’s riddle. What is it that everyone desires most, above all else?”

The woman swallows, and her eyes flick over to Alex, just for a moment, before she answers the king. “Sovereignty,” she says simply, voice clear and strong.

Jesse’s brow furrows. “What? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Sovereignty,” the Lady Guerin repeats, “means to be able to rule one’s life as one sees fit. To not be beholden to the whims and commands of another.”

“That’s nonsense,” Jesse mutters.

“Is it?” Lady Guerin questions, drawing nearer to Jesse. “It must be easy for you, dear king, to believe the concept to be nonsense. Irrelevant. Your own sovereignty is built into the very nature of your station. But consider the peasant woman, totally at the mercy of her husband. The serf toiling under a cruel lord.” She exhales, continues. “The dutiful son of a monstrous father.”

By the gods, what is she doing?

But Jesse, Jesse is still in the dark, so focused on his own fate with King Noah, believing the woman to be speaking in hypotheticals… “You’re sure that this is the answer King Noah seeks?”

“Quite sure, my king.”

Jesse regards her warily. “Very well,” he finally says. “You are aware of the consequences, if you have given me this response in jest or error?”

“Well aware,” the woman says, not backing down. Smiling up at Jesse, in fact.

“Alright,” Jesse says. “Sovereignty,” he mutters under his breath. He mounts his fine horse and turns to his two eldest sons. “I wish for you to ride with me as far as the clearing. Alex, Flint, you are to remain here guarding the Lady Guerin until your brothers return. With or without me.”

And with that, he’s off, urging his horse onward.

Alex and Flint watch him go, not speaking until he is well out of ear shot.

Flint turns to the Lady Guerin. “Sovereignty? Really?” He shakes his head.

“I believe her,” says Alex quietly.

The woman arches an eyebrow.

“Course you do,” Flint mutters.

Alex watches as the Lady Guerin begins busying herself with preparations for the evening meal.

“What does your father like?” she asks Alex and Flint, nonchalantly.

“Nothing you make is worthy of our father,” Flint says, disdainful. “But perhaps a fresh-baked loaf or two, and your pheasant stew.”

Alex knows the woman well enough by now that he can see the amusement in her eyes. “Right away, my good sir.”

She retreats to the cottage to retrieve the large cooking pot. Flint watches her carefully as she rolls it outside.

“By the gods, she looks like a witch right now, with her cauldron.”

Alex rolls his eyes. “You were the one that wanted stew. What was she supposed to do?”

Flint shakes his head. “I don’t like her. There’s something about her…”

Alex scoffs. “You don’t like anyone who’s the least bit different from you.”

Flint gives a mean little smirk. “Oh, I can appreciate some differences, in a way you can’t.”

“Does everything come back to that, for you?”

Flint shrugs. Eyes the woman again. “You know, brother,” he says thoughtfully, voice low, “you don’t have to marry her. We were the only ones there, just us brothers, when father made that deal. If her answer was indeed correct, which is far from a given, we can kill her before heading home.”

Alex must look shocked, for Flint quickly amends his words. “Or, or simply leave her here at this godforsaken cottage. She’s completely unfit for court life.”

Alex is gaping at him. “But, but father made a deal!”

Flint laughs. “As if father’s never gone back on a deal before! And who in all the kingdoms would believe her word against the word of the king?” He points in her general direction. “Look at her, Alex, really look. She’s hideous. No one would ever believe that King Manes had promised one of his sons to her.”

Alex swallows hard. “She is my betrothed. No harm is to come to her.” He sets his jaw, looks at Flint. “Unless she has proven untrue, with her response.”

Flint gives Alex a wry half-smile. “We will see soon enough.”

***

It is nearly sundown, and there is still no sign of Jesse. The woman is calmly whittling now, a small statue out of wood. It is an odd habit for an older woman, but Alex supposes she has no man in her life. She looks relaxed, calm.

Flint is just the opposite – on edge, suspicious. He’s sharpening his sword, quite conspicuously, obviously attempting to cow the woman.

It is having… quite the opposite effect, actually. The woman occasionally looks at Flint in a downright patronizing manner, shakes her head, and resumes her whittling.

“She has lied, I know she has,” Flint says. “What… what if she is allied with King Noah? What if he has taken out father and our brothers, and we are next?” His eyes widen. “She might have drugged the food.”

Alex whirls around. “Not everyone is so conniving as father.” Flint’s eyes widen, as do Alex’s. “Forgive me,” Alex says quickly. “I… I am tense, too, over this whole situation.”

Flint looks at him, and there is a flash of pity. “No doubt,” he says, softly. “I… I am grateful it is you, about to sign your life away, rather than me.”

Alex exhales, eyes Flint. “Why do you think she has lied?” Because to Alex… to Alex her response was perfect. Sovereignty. A response he would never have thought of on his own, never articulated in that manner, but perfect nonetheless. It is not a lie, he knows that. Should his father not return to this clearing, he is certain it is through no trickery of the Lady Guerin.

And just as he is thinking this, King Manes rides into the clearing.

Everyone stands, quickly, including the woman. Jesse guides his horse right up to her cottage.

“Lady Guerin, you have proven true in your response.” A smile plays at his lips. “King Noah was most disappointed.”

A complicated expression crosses the Lady Guerin’s face. “No doubt, my king.”

“We shall ride tomorrow for the castle at Unidos. We will accompany us, and there, you shall be married to my youngest son, Alex.”

The woman prostrates herself. It looks uncomfortable. “You have my sincere gratitude, dear king.”

Jesse leaves her like that for a long moment, stares down at her. “You may rise,” he finally says, and she does. “It has been a long day, and I am in need of nourishment.”

The woman smiles at him, politely. “There is pheasant stew and fresh-baked bread for your enjoyment, dear king. Simple fare, but hopefully it will be to your liking.” She eyes the horizon, where the sun is sinking low. “But I must beg that you grant me leave. I am but an old woman, and I must rest before our long journey in the morn. May I retire, my king?”

Jesse actually looks a bit relieved. “Of course, Lady Guerin.”

Well, thinks Alex. It’s an improvement from ‘hag.’

#my fic #loathly #malex #roswell nm #sir gawain and the dame ragnell au

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ofstormsandwolves · 4 years

Text

The Parent-Teacher Night

Teen

Modern AU

Giles/Joyce, Buffy, Faith, Xander, Willow, Gwendolyn Post, Snyder

Swearing, implied/ referenced child abuse/ neglect

Part of Sunnydale 2019 (full order on AO3)

Read on AO3

Buffy Summers is not looking forward to Parent-Teacher Night. Particularly with Principal Snyder out to get her...

“Buffy, don’t forget we’ve got parent-teacher night tonight.”

At her mother’s words, Buffy froze with a spoonful of cereal halfway to her mouth. She hadn’t exactly forgotten about parent-teacher night, she just hadn’t actively tried to remember it. Time was, she could have gotten away with just not mentioning it to her parents. But when your step-dad was the school librarian, it sort of became difficult to hide those sorts of things.

“Why do I have to go?” Buffy asked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “Come to think of it, why do you have to go?”

Joyce fixed her daughter with a look. “To talk to your teachers,” she said pointedly. “To find out how you’re settling in.”

“But Giles works there,” Buffy argued. “If one of my teachers had a problem with me, they’d have already spoken to him about it.”

The man himself was simply watching the conversation unfold as he leaned against the kitchen counter sipping tea and reading the paper. He glanced in Buffy’s direction, and she glared back at him, hoping he picked up on how unhelpful he was being.

“Well, I still want to meet your teachers,” Joyce retorted, and her tone left no room for arguments. “I’ll meet you and Rupert in the school library at five, and we’ll go see them.”

Clenching her jaw and realising she wasn’t going to win this particular battle, Buffy reluctantly turned back to her breakfast.

The car ride to school was tense and silent, Buffy choosing to scowl out the window rather than talk to Giles. To his credit, he seemed to pick up on the fact she didn’t want to talk, and he didn’t force conversation on her. But when they reached the school parking lot, he cut the engine and turned to her.

“There really is no need to worry about tonight, you know,” he said, and his tone was somewhere between caring and amused. Buffy was glad he found the whole thing so damn amusing. “I’ve had no complaints from any of your teachers, and while your grades are perhaps a little lower than your mother and I would like, they aren’t bad and we know you’re working hard.”

But that didn’t exactly reassure Buffy. “Principal Snyder hates me though,” she reminded her step-dad seriously. “He’s constantly watching me like I’m some sort of criminal!”

“Buffy, Principal Snyder hates everybody,” Giles responded with a small smile. “He even hates me. And your mother is aware of that, so do try not to worry.”

Buffy fixed her step-father with an unconvinced look then, before climbing out the car. She heard Giles sigh, before he too got out the car. She set a fast pace towards the school, but somehow he managed to grab his bag, lock the car, and fall into step beside her.

“I’m sure it won’t be anywhere near as bad as you’re thinking,” Giles said calmly despite the brisk pace they were walking at. “It’s a fresh start, Buffy. And like I said, your mother and I know how hard you’re working.”

Buffy came to a halt just in front of the steps leading up to the school, and fixed her step-dad with a look yet again. “But what if it’s not enough? What if, however hard I work, I’ve still screwed everything up? I bet Snyder can’t wait to kick me out of the school! And what then?”

“That’s not going to happen, Buffy,” Giles argued, exasperated. “Really, you’re getting ahead of yourself. How about we just get through the day, yes?”

Jaw clenched, Buffy glared up at the school building for several moments. “I’ll see you later,” she said suddenly.

Giles could only watch as she stormed up the steps to the building.

By the time five o’clock rolled around, Buffy was a jittery mess. She and the others had arrived in the library after sixth period, but while her friends had got on with their homework Buffy had fidgeted and paced and generally panicked.

“Geez, B, I don’t get the big deal,” Faith said with a frown as Buffy paced the library. “So what if some stupid teachers don’t like you?”

Jaw clenched, Buffy shook her head in frustration. “It’s not about whether or not they like me,” she argued. “It’s about whether or not I’ve completely screwed things up.”

Willow was watching Buffy worriedly, an anxious expression on her face. “But you haven’t screwed things up, Buffy. I mean, sure, there was the whole fire and graffiti thing in L.A but- but that’s in the past!”

It was then that the doors to the library opened, and Joyce stepped in looking a little anxious. “I’m not late, am I?” she asked as she crossed the floor. “I was a little late leaving the gallery.”

Buffy gave her mom a tight smile. “It’s fine. Giles is in the office.” She nodded towards the office then, but Joyce didn’t move.

“So, these must be your friends,” Joyce stated, smiling at Willow, Xander, and Faith who were gathered around the table. “It’s so good to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Buffy and Rupert.”

Buffy rolled her eyes at that, and was relieved when Giles chose that moment to come out of his office.

“Ah, Joyce.” He greeted his wife with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, before turning to the children. “I’m going to have to lock the library up now. Were you three waiting for anyone?”

“I told Gwen I’d meet her in the student lounge,” Faith shrugged, shoving her half-finished science homework into her bag and crumpling it as she did so.

Xander got to his feet. “Well, lucky for me my parents don’t care enough to come to parent-teacher night.” He flashed a smile at Giles and Joyce, who both looked marginally uncomfortable with this news. “So me and Will are heading off.”

Giles frowned at that. “Willow? Your parents aren’t coming either?”

The redhead smiled and shook her head as she stood. “No, they’re away for work. They’re at a lecture in Rhode Island. They’re psychologists.”

“And you’re home alone?” Joyce asked, not looking remotely pleased about what she was hearing. “I hope it’s only a few days.”

“A week,” Willow shrugged. Seeing the looks on Joyce’s and Giles’s faces, she quickly scrambled to cover. “I- It’s ok though, I’m kinda used to it. And Xander’s coming over for pizza!”

The boy nodded eagerly at that, and Joyce pursed her lips before fishing a notepad and pen out of her purse and writing something down.

“I know you’ve probably already got Buffy’s cell number,” she said as she tore the page off the pad and crossed the room to push it into Willow’s hands. “But there’s our home number, in case you need anything.”

Willow didn’t seem to know what to do with that, and gave Joyce a tentative smile. “Oh, uh, thank you Mrs Giles.”

“It’s Joyce, dear,” Joyce responded with a small smile. “And I expect you to use that number if you have to, am I clear?”

Willow nodded at that, seemingly a little less uncertain than a moment or so before. Then she turned to Xander. “Ready to go?”

“Sure,” he nodded, and the pair of them moved as one towards the door.

Buffy and Faith followed, and Joyce and Giles brought up the rear. As Giles switched the lights off and locked the doors, Joyce, Buffy, and Faith stood to one side to wait for him.

“Is it just your mother who’s coming to parent-teacher night, Faith?” Joyce asked suddenly.

“Mom,” Buffy started uncomfortably, “Gwen’s not-”

But Faith shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s fine, B,” she said, before turning to Joyce. “Gwen’s my adopted mom. My real parents fucked off when I was little, I don’t really remember them.”

“Oh,” Joyce said, flushing with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s fine,” Faith repeated, flashing Joyce a smile. “Gwen’s not that bad. Hell, she adopted me so I shouldn’t really complain. And besides, I don’t go in for that sob-story shit anyway. I’m not looking for sympathy or anything.”

“No,” Giles agreed as he joined the three women, “but if Snyder hears you swearing, you’ll be looking for a way out of detention.”

Despite Giles’s stern expression, Faith smirked at him.

“Yeah, and you know I’d find it, G. Anyway, speaking of finding stuff, I’d better go look for Gwen.”

She set off down the corridor then, and while Giles and Buffy were a little amused, Joyce seemed a little dumbfounded.

“So Faith’s, uh, nice,” she managed after a moment, looking to her husband for support.

“I’ll admit she has a nasty swearing habit,” Giles conceded as he started to lead Buffy and Joyce down the corridor, “but she really isn’t all that bad.”

Buffy tried not to notice how uncertain her mother looked.

Despite Buffy’s initial nerves, it seemed that things were going fairly well. Dr Gregory seemed quite optimistic regarding Buffy’s work, even if she did sometimes seem to struggle with focusing in class, and Mrs Barton said much the same. In fact, almost all of her teachers had one thing in common; they thought Buffy was doing well, but an extra little bit of effort wouldn’t hurt.

“How much more effort do they want?” Buffy grumbled as they left the French classroom.

“Honey, this is all good,” Joyce reminded her daughter with a smile. “I hope you realise how proud Rupert and I are of you.”

With a hesitant smile, Buffy looked up at her parents. “You’re not mad?”

Giles frowned. “Of course not. Considering how difficult the last six or seven months have been, we’re very pleased with how well you’ve settled here.” He gave her a small smile. “And I did tell you not to worry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Buffy said, though she couldn’t help but smile. “Quit rubbing it in.”

“I think we might need to make tonight a special dinner,” Joyce said as they headed through the school. “How does takeout sound?”

Buffy was about to answer, but before she could Principal Snyder appeared in front of them, looking frustrated.

“Mrs Giles?” he asked Joyce, point-blank ignoring Giles and Buffy altogether.

Joyce frowned. “Yes?”

“Principal Snyder,” the man said. “I need to talk to you in the office.”

Joyce looked to her husband then, a little confused and taken aback by the man.

“Will it take long?” Giles asked, pulling Snyder’s attention onto him. “We were about to head home. Buffy has homework.”

Fixing the other man with an annoyed look, Snyder took a moment to reply. “It will take as long as it takes, Mr Giles.” Then, looking back to Joyce, he added: “If you’d like to follow me.”

With a final confused look between them, Joyce and Giles reluctantly fell into step behind Snyder.

The man set a brisk pace towards his office, never stopping to see if they were following. When they reached the office, Faith was stood outside, arms folded across her chest as she leaned against the wall.

“B,” she grinned, before turning her attention to Giles and Joyce. “Man, G, you must have done something real bad to be summoned to the principal’s office. You too, Mrs G.”

Snyder fixed Faith with an annoyed look, before opening the door and gesturing for Giles and Joyce to step through. When Buffy went to follow, Snyder stepped between her and the door, glaring at her.

“Miss Summers, why don’t you wait out here?”

And before Buffy could process what was happening, Snyder had stepped inside the office and shut the door.

“What was that about?” Buffy asked, turning to Faith.

The brunette grinned, and shrugged. “God knows. He’s got Gwen in there too. Bet he’s trying to rat us out, or something.”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “But we haven’t done anything!”

“Like that would stop Snyder,” Faith grumbled, before catching a look at the other girl’s panicked expression. “Chill, B. It’s five by five. G-man knows we’ve not done anything wrong, and Snyder hasn’t got a single thing he can pin on us.”

Heaving out a sigh, Buffy slumped down to sit on the floor. Faith joined her a moment or two later.

Buffy looked to Faith with a frown. “This is going to take ages, isn’t it?”

Inside the principal’s office, Joyce and Giles had been a little surprised to find another woman already waiting. She had dark hair, and was smartly dressed, and looked a little surprised to see Snyder entering with two more parents.

“This is Mrs Post,” Snyder said as he moved to take his seat behind his desk. “She’s Faith’s adoptive mother. Mrs Post, this is Mr and Mrs Giles, Buffy Summers’ mother and step-father.”

But rather than looking at Giles or Joyce, Gwen was fixing Snyder with a glare. “You do realise,” she said sharply, “that being Faith’s adoptive mother makes me her mother?”

“What are you getting at?” Snyder huffed.

“What I’m getting at,” Gwen responded, “is that there is no need to stress the ‘adoptive’ part. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t.”

As Giles and Joyce settled in the two remaining seats facing the desk, Snyder pointedly ignored Gwen’s comments.

“I’m sure you are well aware by now,” Snyder told them with an annoyed look on his face, “but your daughters have been... Associating with one another.”

“Buffy and Faith are friends, yes,” Giles said with a frown. “Is that really why we’re here? So you can inform us of their friendship?”

“You are here, Mr Giles, so I can inform you that your daughters are troublemakers who have sought each other out in order to destroy school property and prank people.”

Giles and Joyce shared a baffled look at that, and Gwen arched an eyebrow.

“And do you have proof of this?” Gwen asked. “I’ve already spoken with several of Faith’s teachers, and nobody raised any concerns of troublemaking to me.”

“We’ve had the same with Buffy,” Joyce agreed, looking to Gwen as she spoke. “Everyone seems very pleased with how she’s settling in.”

Giles noted, with some amusement, that Joyce’s and Gwen’s apparent agreement was already frustrating Snyder.

“Regardless of what the other faculty members are saying,” Snyder announced loudly, and he gave a pointed look at Giles as he spoke, “I am telling you that I will not tolerate your children disrupting my school!”

“But they’re not,” Joyce reasoned. “They go to homework club every day after school, where Rupert keeps an eye on them. He’s never had an issue with them.” She looked to her husband. “Right?”

Trying hard to keep the smirk off his face as Snyder seemed to get angrier, Giles nodded. “Right. And they are, of course, friends with Willow Rosenberg and Xander Harris as well. The four of them are very well-behaved.”

Gwen seemed quite pleased to hear this. “Well then,” she said, getting to her feet, “why are we here? I’m sorry, Principal Snyder, but unless you have any genuine concerns about Faith’s schooling...”

“Your daughter has befriended an arsonist!” Snyder said suddenly, jumping to his feet.

Gwen froze, a frown on her face, and Giles and Joyce both stared at the principal in anger.

“Buffy Summers is an arsonist,” Snyder continued, and there was a look of malicious glee that spread across his face as he spoke. “She was arrested for participating in arson and vandalism at Hemery high school in Los Angeles, and was expelled as a result. Is that really the sort of person you want Faith associating with, Mrs Post?”

Furious, Joyce got to her feet before Gwen could speak. “How dare you! First of all, Buffy was not charged with arson, she had nothing to do with the fire! She was coerced by older students to tag along, and she had no idea what they were planning. And secondly, we were promised when we enrolled her here that she would be allowed a fresh start!”

“Not at the expense of corrupting other pupils, Mrs Giles,” Snyder sneered before turning his attention to Gwen. “Although now I think about it, I do recall one or two unsavoury marks on Faith’s permanent record too. What was it again, Mrs Post? Booby-trapping classroom doors; TP-ing the entire gym; breaking into the faculty room to swap the sugar for salt... I could go on, but I think Mr and Mrs Giles get the idea.” He fixed the three other adults with a cold smirk then and leaned back in his chair. “So with all that in mind, I’m sure you can understand why I was alarmed to hear that Miss Summers and Miss Lehane had become friends.”

“They’ve done nothing wrong,” Giles snapped. “How dare you hold past mistakes or poor decisions against them!”

“But how do we know those mistakes and poor decisions are in the past, Mr Giles?” Snyder countered, and it was clear he was enjoying the whole thing far too much. “No. The only way to ensure that they do not cause any trouble is pre-emptive action. Starting tomorrow, I do not want Buffy Summers and Faith Lehane associating with one another.”

“This is ridiculous,” Gwen protested. “You have no right to force the girls not to see one another. I won’t allow you to do this.”

“This isn’t about what you’ll allow, Mrs Post, this is about what I am going to do. Talking to you tonight was simply a formality.”

“Then we’ll go to the school board,” Joyce responded sharply. “You can’t ban the girls from being friends, it’s ridiculous.”

“Indeed,” Gwen agreed. “I’m sure the school board would be quite interested in hearing about this.”

Snyder seemed to pale then, as Joyce and Gwen glared down at him as one. As angry as he was, Giles couldn’t help but be amused. It served Snyder right for trying to pit Joyce and Gwen against each other.

Jaw clenched, Snyder seemed to consider his options for a moment. “I’ll be watching your girls very closely,” he ground out after a moment. “So much as a whiff that they are planning something and I will not hesitate to keep them on separate sides of the school campus.”

“Well,” Giles said, getting to his feet, “we’ll bear that in mind, Principal Snyder. But I highly doubt that would keep the girls from spending time together outside of school.”

Ignoring the enraged look on the principal’s face, he instead moved to open the office door. Joyce and Gwen filed out, and just before he stepped out, Giles glanced back at the man behind the desk.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Principal Snyder. Have a good night.”

“How bad was it?” Buffy asked worriedly as she and Faith followed their parents down the corridor.

“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about,” Joyce insisted, giving the girls a rather unconvincing smile. “Just a little misunderstanding.”

Gwen still looked furious, and Faith wasn’t sure if she was amused or concerned about that. “How that man is running a school, I don’t know,” the woman huffed in frustration. “He’s not fit to be in charge of a paper bag.”

“At least now you know I wasn’t lying when I told you the principal’s a rat,” Faith grinned.

All three adults fixed her with a look, but the brunette remained unbothered.

“Yes, well, ‘rat’ is one way to describe Principal Snyder,” Giles muttered.

They made their way out to the school parking lot in a tense silence, all of the adults apparently still stewing over Snyder’s comments in his office. Buffy, Giles, and Joyce were just heading in the direction of Giles’s car when Gwen stopped them.

“I can’t say I wasn’t a little surprised by some of the comments Principal Snyder made,” she admitted to Joyce and Giles, who shifted uncomfortably, “but then I’m sure you felt the same.” She gave a meaningful look towards Buffy and Faith, who had gravitated towards each other and were frowning at their parents in confusion. “And given the principal’s attitude and approach to the situation, I can’t help but feel that he is rather... Selective regarding what he wanted us to know. I know for a fact that some of the things he told you were, shall we say, oversimplified for instance.”

Buffy and Faith exchanged a look at that. Whatever their parents were discussing didn’t sound that good, and knowing Principal Snyder he’d had nothing but awful things to say about them.

“Unfortunately, Principal Snyder sees what he wants to see,” agreed Giles. “He certainly didn’t give you the full details.”

Gwen looked unsurprised by that, and nodded, sighing. “That’s what I thought.” She paused. “Perhaps we should discuss this further. Get everything out in the open, so to speak.”

Joyce shifted uneasily, and looked to her husband briefly. “I suppose so,” she agreed after a moment. “Are you free this weekend?”

“I am,” Gwen replied. “When would be good for you?”

Joyce responded by digging through her purse and pulling out one of her business cards. “We’re fine for whenever,” she said as she handed the card over. “But my cell number is on there, so just let me know. We can sort the details then.”

And with one final smile between them, the three adults parted company, leaving Faith and Buffy blinking after them.

“What just happened?” Faith asked.

“I don’t know,” Buffy admitted slowly. “But I don’t think it was good.”

With one last look between them, Buffy and Faith reluctantly trailed after their parents.

#buffy fanfic #buffy summers #faith lehane #rupert giles #joyce summers #xander harris #willow rosenberg #buffy the vampire slayer #Sunnydale 2019 verse

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secondchancesfic · 4 years

Text

S.C: Chapter V

Superhero!AU

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: Parental Analogical, Platonical Anxceit, unrequited love (LoganxDeceit), Logicality

Tags/Warnings: Anxiety, jealously, violence, explosions, alcohol, Patton (If I missed something, please let me know)

Words: 5034

The dreadful date day came like a flash. Logan was so busy between his jobs he forgot about the entire thing...Or at least he tried. Virgil would usually remind him about the date with messages through phone, for some reason he seemed more excited than Logan. At first the teacher thought it would be interesting and maybe fun to meet someone outside his work place, but now he was getting second, third and even fourth thoughts about the whole ordeal. He considered not going at all, but that would have been really rude towards the date.

The main issue was going out with a complete stranger. Sure, Virgil did gave him the full info from the dating site and the guy seemed reasonable and decent enough, but this was a huge jump out of his comfort zone. Logan had a lot of troubles talking to anyone, let alone a potential love interest. Needless to say, he wasn’t thrill about going out on an uncomfortable social ritual.

The first thing his son did after school was to get into Logan’s closet and pull all the clothes he had, deciding on what his dad should wear to impress the date. The teacher and Gregory got home a couple hours later and Virgil quickly throw the chosen clothes to his father.

-What is it this…?- Logan asked.

-It’s for your date, come on- Virgil said as he went back to the room.

-Tha-that was today…? -Logan stuttered a very noticeable lie.

-Yes! Now get dressed!- Virgil shout.

Gregory frown at the scene, but hid his annoyance with a smirk.

-Why are you so insistent, Virge? Let your old man go at his own pace- He said as he walked towards the hallway, passing Logan’s room and going into his own bedroom.

-I am… not that old…- Logan mumbled

Virgil got out of the room and walked towards his dad holding 2 ties. –For as long as I have been under this roof, he has been coop up here or the office. He should think outside the work place-

Gregory left his backpack and went back to the living where the whole scene was unfolding-Yeah, right. Because you are such an expert on the subject- Gregory said sarcastically, a bit of annoyance showing in his tone.

-Listen. I might not be the best at this things, but I sure as hell know when someone needs a break- Virgil said as he throw the ties at his dad to hold.

-Virgil, I have to focus on my work. A partner is just… A distraction- Logan said stumbling in his words.

-That’s the point- Virgil said nonchalantly. Both Logan and Gregory give him a confused look.

–I mean, like…Ugh… Look, dad. I think this could be good for you, meeting someone outside your jobs, maybe relax for a bit-

-I relax with our usual café trips- Logan stated.

-Yeah, but that’s just our thing. You always tell me to get friends, which I do have. You need someone that isn’t from work- Virgil said as he dragged Logan.

Gregory stopped Virgil from going into Logan’s room.

-Virgil, don’t you think you’re being a bit controlling here? I mean, Logan seems so comfortable right now-

Virgil looked at his dad, Logan was still holding the clothes in a nervous bundle. He let go of his dad.

-Virgil, why are you so desperate on me getting a partner?- Logan asked his son.

He always had exaggerated reactions over certain matters, this case was really odd none the less. Virgil bit his thumb and let out a breath.

-Dad, I already told you. You’ve been coop up here or the office, you don’t go out at all. I don’t mean for you to get a partner right away. At least just a friend that isn’t from your job, you’ve been looking…gloomier than usual-

Gregory snorted. –That’s pure gold coming from you-

Virgil rolled his eyes. –I just want you to have fun outside all the mess of work, ok? You deserve it…- He said as he put his hands inside the hoodie pockets not looking how Logan was astonished and moved by the gesture.

Virgil’s healing power was amazing, a truly incredible and wonderful power which helps everyone around him but what Logan appreciated more was his son’s perceptiveness and care for others wellbeing. Even when Virgil was usually anxious and closed down in public places, every time someone wasn’t feeling well he would know and try to help as much as he could. It seems he perceived how Logan was overworking himself and just thought a change of pace would help his father. Logan held the clothes tightly, trying to hold back the overwhelming joy he was feeling in his chest.

-Alright, Virgil. I’ll go out- He said calmly. Virgil look up at his father and smiled lightly. Logan walk over to his room and closed it.

Gregory wasn’t at all happy about this, he was furious. What if this nobody of a dude make Logan fall for him? Or worst? The thought made his insides burn. He wanted to get this guy out of the equation, maybe just disappear him for a night. No one would notice. Maybe Logan but it doesn’t matter, he didn’t wanted to go in the first place, right? Was the storage place still open?

…

He is thinking really crazy again. Those kind of thoughts were normal for Gregory, at some points they would pop out and he would be able to just move one but this time they were getting worst, not only worst they were increasing and were relentless. He really hated them and hated himself for having them. Gregory knows he wouldn’t even act on them but it was really annoying and tiring to try to push them deep down, especially when he was jealous. He should know by now Logan and he were never meant to be.

-Hey, Dee. You ok?- Virgil asked the other hero, who was staring at the ground rather intensely.

-…Wha…?- Gregory mind halted and looked at Virgil. Virgil was patting Gregory in his arm, looking worried. –Yeah. I’m fine, just tired-

Gregory went to his room and closed the door behind him. Virgil didn’t thought twice about his friend… He thought 5 times if something was wrong. Gregory wasn’t the talkative type of person, especially not about personal stuff unless there was something really, really wrong or important. Virgil wonder what was bothering him and if he should press on, but he decided against it at the end since Gregory wouldn’t budge anyway. He’ll ask later, now his friend probably needed rest.

Logan had finished showering and putting on the clothes Virgil chose which he didn’t even remember he had. Maybe he bought them for something but never used them and eventually forgot they even existed. He fix his tie and then looked at the mirror to fix his hair, Logan didn’t exactly care much whether or not he was attractive he cared about looking professional. Although once he looked at himself he thought Virgil had a point, he did look rather tired…and sad in some sort of way.

Maybe the change of routine would help him a bit. Of course he wouldn’t get a partner right away, but meeting someone new could be good for his mental state. Someone that didn’t reminded him of work or anything of the sorts, talking about other type of topics and…

Wait… Logan’s life is work, he doesn’t know what other topics there are…

-Abort mission-

His phone buzzed. There was a new message from an unknown number popping in the screen.

Hey is this Logan? HI! I’m Patton! I just wanted to make sure if we’re meeting at The Attic Café.

Oh…

Logan didn’t even catch the name of this guy before. Patton… And… What café is that? He’ll have to ask Virgil, he probably decided the meeting place for him.

Greetings. Yes, this is Logan. And the café is adequate. At what time should I meet you?

Logan put down the phone and finished fixing his attire. He grabbed his keys and his phone, heading out of the room. The phone buzzed again and a new message appeared.

I’ll be there at 6! Don’t be LATTE!

Is…Is that a pun?

Logan give the benefit of the doubt and thought it might have been the auto corrector. Virgil was eating as he scrolled down in his phone, looking at some posts. When Logan walk by he stared at his dad and hold back the excitement.

-You look great, dad- Virgil commented.

Logan scratch his head flustered. –Don’t you think this is too much? We are meeting at a café after all-

-You are showing who you are, and what’s more you than formal clothes and a tie?- Virgil throw finger guns. Logan still seemed unsure. –You’ll be fine, dad. I bet you are gonna make this guy fall for you in a second-

-I think the only thing that will fall are his ears- Gregory said as he walked by the kitchen. He had changed his clothes to casual ones.

-You are going out?- Logan asked

-Yeah- Gregory said as he went towards the door.

-You said you were tired- Virgil said as he stared at Gregory, looking suspiciously at him.

-Not anymore. I’m just meeting a friend-

-Do you need a ride?- Logan questioned as he went to grab the keys from his pocket.

-Nah, I’ll walk. It’s not that far anyway. Tell the guy I wish him luck with you- He smirked and left the home.

Logan chuckled and hold the keys. –I better get going as well-

-Later, dad- Virgil waved as he kept scrolling through his phone.

Logan closed the door, then remember he didn’t know where the place was. He was going inside again when his phone buzzed. In the screen there was a message from Virgil, he had send the address of the café. Sometimes he thinks Virgil might have telepathy as well but decides to keep it a secret to mess with him. Or maybe he is just really perceptive. Logan went out of the department building, got in his car and drove away.

Gregory saw as Logan drove away and kept walking. He walked all the way from home to the bar he went the other day to meet Remy. He thought it would make him cool down from the whole situation but nothing had changed. Why was he so mad and so… sad? It was a stupid crush. It didn’t do anyone any good. It wouldn’t even work.

He got inside the establishment and went straight to the bartender, asking for a couple of drinks. Fuck wanting to be sober, tonight he wanted to get completely wasted, maybe the alcohol would numb him enough to forget the stupid, useless, annoying- The bartender put the drinks in front of him, a mix drink and a couple shots. Gregory shove down the mixed drink in one sitting, hiccupping as he finished and placing the glass down. He then went for one shot but before he could drink it as if it was water Remy grabbed the drink and drank it.

-Hey!- Gregory shouted.

-You hypocrite, little shit! I knew you still had it!- Remy said as he took a sit next to Gregory in a fit of giggles.

-I’m not in the fucking mood, ok? Stop drinking my shit- Gregory grabbed one shot and drank it.

Remy was taken aback. –Geez, who pissed on your cereal?-

-No one, shut up.- He said as he asked for another drink.

-Sorry, but I don’t believe your lying ass. Come on. Lay it on me. Who am I beating up tomorrow?- Remy said it as he wave his hand in his neck as to sign the bartender to not give his friend more drinks.

Gregory had said he wanted to stay sober, and Remy respects that decision and his new life even if he can be an ass about it, but suddenly looking at his friend having a slip out won’t do at all. He is not letting Gregory drown tonight.

-No one… It’s just…- Gregory slammed his head into the bar and sighed. –I like someone… but he is going on a date now with someone else-

-Oh! Fuck no!! Where is he? I can beat him up right now!- Remy said standing up.

-It doesn’t matter! He is way older than me! Of course he wouldn’t like me!- Gregory shouted as he grabbed the other shot he had asked.

-Wha- Ok. I’ll need a bit of context- Remy said sitting down. –From the beginning, who is this guy?- He took Gregory’s shot before he could drink it, Gregory laid his head on the bar.

-…Remember when… I got caught up?- Gregory asked shyly.

-Ugh… Yeah… That fucking asshole was persistant…kind of hot though… What about him?- Remy looked at his friend as he drank the shot.

Gregory was blushing and kept staring at Remy in hopes he didn’t had to spit out to the gossiper. Remy then had the realization struck him like a bullet in the chest.

-OH. My fucking. GOD! Are you kidding?! YOU FELL FOR HIM?!- Remy didn’t want to laugh but he thought it was a hilarious and kind of cute thing to happen to his friend. –Dude, that guy looked like he could be your dad. Holy shit! He could have been your sugar daddy!-

Gregory looked mortified by that implication. –No! God dammit, Rem. Leave me alone!-

-I’m kidding, Greg!- Remy stood up and grabbed Gregory’s collar - Come on, we’re leaving. Drowning your feelings with this doesn’t have a very glamorous end. -

Before Gregory could protest, he got dragged out of the bar by Remy. Both started walking towards an apartment building, passing by a well-lit café. They enter the building and head upstairs to get to Remy’s floor, once they got to the apartment he left Gregory in the sofa. It was full of blankets and pillows; it looked like Remy’s sleeping spot.

Gregory looked around, the walls were a deep purple and they were covered in posters. The kitchen, where Remy was getting something from, was clean but looked kind of empty, his friend didn’t had many dishes apparently. There was only 2 doors; he assume one was Remy’s bedroom and the other the bathroom. In front of him there was a TV screen connected to a laptop. That place look way better than the last place Remy was staying, hopefully it was like this when he moved in and didn’t stole money to renovate it.

-Ok, what you need right now- Remy’s voice startle Gregory. –Some nice tea, the way you like it- He gives the warm cup to the hero. –And to throw shade at this guy-

Gregory snorted. –What?-

-That’s what I do when I meet fucking idiots. It’s a good vent- Remy said as he flop in the couch, some of the tea spilled.

Gregory wouldn’t actually… “throw shade” at anyone as a way to vent. He wouldn’t even vent at all, sometimes he and Virgil would talk but it’s Virgil who usually speaks since Gregory believes the young adult has too much in his head and sometimes fears it might explode. But right now, he was a little drunk and he trusted Remy… Sort of. So what the hell?

-You know? I really love it when he re-explains something I already know for the fourth time- Gregory sipped his tea.

Remy got comfier and hold a pillow, smiling wildly. This was going to be an entertaining night.

Logan got to the café in time. He looked around for any sign of this Patton person, but he didn’t recognize anyone. He decided to sit down in an empty table, not ordering anything yet. The place was really pretty, the atmosphere was relaxing. Smooth jazz was playing in the background, while the chatting of people sharing experiences filled the place. In a corner there was a group of young adults listening to another person recite poetry. Logan was intrigue, he didn’t know people still do that. He had always loved to read it and to even write down poems of his own…

Huh… When was the last time he sat down and wrote poetry…? When was the last time he sat down and wrote anything that wasn’t work?

-Hmm… Guess I’ve let myself overwork…- Logan thought.

-Hi!- He heard a happy and overjoyed greeting.

Logan look up to see a man who was wearing a button up light blue shirt, the sleeves were folded up to the elbow, and a pair of dark khakis. He could recognize the glasses and the messy dark golden hair, and, of course, the eyes. Deep blue eyes like the sea. His face was covered in freckles and the smile could melt the coldest of hearts.

The hero was distracted by how handsome the other man was that he didn´t notice Patton was talking. He also might have stared at him for way too long.

-Ehem… Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.- Logan said embarrassed and blushing.

Pattong giggled. –I asked if you waited for too long-

-No! No, I just got here a few minutes ago- Logan said, stumbling on his words. –I…Should we order anything…?-

-Sure! Let’s go!- Patton went for Logan’s hand, holding it tightly and dragging the man with him.

It was really shocking, it frankly startled the hero but it was… Kind of endearing? Once they finished ordering some coffee (black for Logan and a caramel frapuccino for Patton, as well as jelly filled pastries) they went back to sit. Logan didn’t know how to begin the conversation, this was really a big step out of his comfort zone. Not only that, Patton was… dreamy… (Is that the correct term?)

-So…uhm…- Patton’s voice, once again, startle Logan, breaking the silence between them. –I read in your… profile you like Edgar Allan Poe…?- He asked timidly.

Logan lit up at the naming of one of his favorite authors. –Y-yes. I enjoy his writings, specially The Tell-tale Heart. I find them quite fascinating. Have you read any of his works?-

Patton looked at Logan attentive, smiling while listening. Then, when the question pop up, he was taken aback.

–I… Did…?-

Logan tilted his head and stared confused at Patton who was smiling shyly. A sigh was left by the man.

-I tried. To be honest I only manage to read one to impress you!- Patton started to blush, Logan sat straight and looked perplex at the other man.

–I-I mean… I wanted to know… About the stories so I could get an idea of who you were- Patton smiled and chuckled nervously, but then his smile fade. –I’m sorry… this is awkward isn’t it? It’s been a while since I went out to meet new people…-

Logan stare at Patton, not meaning to last for so long. It was difficult to believe the bubbly and happy man in front of him had a hard time talking to him. Suddenly, relief wash over him.

-It’s alright. I’m not the best at socializing either. If we are talking about honesty, I… well… I came today because my son actually made me- Patton looked surprise which Logan translate as a bad sign.

–N-Not that I didn’t wanted to meet you! I-I don’t like to meet people in general! I-I mean- His wording was getting messier as the other man stared at him, not angry at all, but very amused.

Patton smiled widely and let out a loud chuckle, taking Logan by surprise. Both were blushing profusely, the man’s laughter was contagious and made Logan want to chuckle as well.

-That’s so sweet! Your son was probably worried you’d die alone or something- Patton giggled but paused looking for some sort of negative reaction, Logan let out a chuckle.

-Yeah, I do believe that. He tends to worry too much sometimes. He cares too much- Logan chuckle.

Patton smiled kindly. –How old is he?-

-19. He is really smart, a very remarkable young man. He wants to be a doctor- Logan smiled lightly, he loved his son with all his heart and wouldn’t change him for the world. He would do anything for him. The hero’s train of thought came to a stop when he saw Patton’s eyes low, his smile seem sad.

-Is everything alright?- Logan asked in a concern tone.

-Y-yeah! I’m fine, it’s just… Heh… My son would have been the same age as yours…-

The teacher was taken aback by that answer. –I-I’m so sorry… I- He really didn’t know what to say. Patton compose himself.

-It’s fine! I’m fine. It was a long time ago- His smile was bright but it seem rather forced, Logan didn’t want to press him, especially when they barely know each other.

-Um… So… W-what story did you read?- That’s the only thing the teacher could think about.

Patton look up confused but then remembered. –Right. The Pot guy-

-Poe- Logan corrected

-Poe! Right, right! Umm…It was something about… a red masque?-

-Oh! The Masque of the Red Death. That’s an interesting one-

-Interesting, yes. I don’t like the prince at all though. He is really selfish and awful- Patton said with annoyance in his voice.

-Well, wouldn’t you tried to keep yourself alive in any way possible? I do not commend his actions but I can understand where the prince comes from though- He said as he took a sip of his coffee.

-He was supposed to be there for his people! What kind of prince does that? He deserve his end- Patton said in a cold manner. –Selfish people don’t deserve forgiveness- he mumbled.

-That is rather harsh, don’t you think?- Logan said, curious as to why Patton would say that.

-W-well… Selfish people harm others, why would they deserve any kindness?- Patton hold his drink.

Logan stayed silent for a bit, sipping on his coffee while thinking. –Sometimes people act selfishly when they don’t know any better-

Patton hummed as he sipped his coffee. –You know? If everyone were good… If everyone followed the simple rule of being kind and good to others there wouldn’t be so much evil… -

Logan raised an eyebrow, getting really into the conversation. –There has to be a balance. If there’s good, there will be bad-

-But it shouldn’t be that way, it shouldn’t be this… Rancid. Being good is so easy! Look at all the heroes who help! It’s easy!- Patton smiled, but it was… a weird smile. Logan notice how passionate Patton was getting, the energy was contagious.

-It is easy, but some people need a little push to be good. They need to be set in the correct path- The teacher said as he placed the coffee down in a calm manner.

-What if they don’t change though? Some people can’t change. You can’t leave them out there to do evil- Patton was using the straw to mix his drink.

-What do you suggest we do with those people then?- Logan was really curious.

-Easy. You have to force them to be good!- Patton said nonchalantly.

Logan was perplex. He was surprised by that kind of answer. –How exactly?-

Patton drank his beverage, his eyes were low. –Well… You know… Like brainwash?- Logan blink in surprise and then a laugh was let out. Patton didn’t expect that reaction at all.

-That’s an aggressive way to change the world- Logan took a deep breath trying to compose himself. –Drastic, as well.-

-…Drastic measures for drastic situations.- Patton said softly.

-Sure. But… I’d rather take the patient route. I believe people just need some help finding the good path for themselves. I’ve seen others change for the better and for the worst. That’s how life is. You can’t force others to change like that, even if it were for the greater good- Logan sip his coffee.

Patton stayed silent as he drink his beverage, staring at Logan with fondness. He knew his ideas were crazy and extreme, and being listened by someone else who doesn’t insult him on the spot was a nice change of pace.

-This is really fun- Patton exclaim, Logan look up –It’s been a while since I throw weird ideas out there. Thanks for listening to my silly rants- He chuckled

-It’s no problem at all. I believe your ideas are extreme, but they aren’t silly as you put it.- Logan smiled shyly.

Patton felt like melting at that moment. Both men drank their own beverages in silence, letting the sounds from the place fill the atmosphere. It’s been while since any of them had a moment to just be, even if it was sharing it with someone they barely knew, it was nice.

-What do you do for a living?- Logan asked all of the sudden.

-Oh! I work at a vet clinic! I love animals a lot. What about you?- Patton asked

-I teach at a university. Physics and Calculus- Logan answered.

-Oooh! Calculus is kind of hard. I failed it once and now I can’t go to the woods- Patton sipped his beverage sheepishly.

Logan was really confused. –What? What do you mean?-

-Yeah, it just… There’s too many natural logs for my liking-

The vet smiled widely, biting the straw from the excitement while the teacher stared at the man not knowing whether to smile or groan. He had to admit, it was clever. The teacher smiled and slapped a hand to his forehead. Hearing Patton’s giggles were the best sound he has ever heard.

-Awww, what’s the matter? You can’t take some derivative humor?-

Logan snorted and tried to hide the smile. The jokes were terrible, god, they were awful, but Patton’s sheepish smile and demeanor was so sweet, he genuinely seem to enjoy those types of jokes.

Before they could continue their conversation a loud bang startle everyone in the café. Logan look out the window and saw how debris from cars were going to their direction. He quickly hold Patton’s hand and drag him down the table, pieces of metal crashed into the window. Logan was covering Patton with himself, Patton was startle by the broken glass but got distracted by how close Logan was to him. Logan listened and waited for any sign of danger, there was maniac laughter coming from outside.

-HOLY SHIT, DID YOU SEE THAT?!- the voice yelled

-GOD DAMMIT, DUKE! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU TO TELL ME BEFORE DYNAMITING THE WHOLE PLACE!?- Another voice yelled, they had the same accent, Logan notice certain similarities in their tones.

He look out and saw both man wearing masquerades, one had a black with silver outfit and the other was wearing white and gold. Both were holding huge bags of what the hero assume were stolen property, he had to stop them. Logan looked at Patton, now realizing how close he was to the other man, his deep blue eyes staring at him. For a moment he thought he saw a weird flash of color in his eyes but it might have been his imagination.

-I-I… Sorry! A-are you alright?- Logan asked really embarrassed, helping Patton to stand up.

-Yeah! Um… Wow, you got really fast reflexes- He chuckled nervously.

Both man stood up there while the rest of the people went outside in a panic. Both villains notice the commotion; the black and silver villain was getting ready to impose fear in others but his comrade hold him from the neck and drag him towards a car.

-We should… Probably leave too… Who knows what The Duke and The Prince would do next…- Patton said nervously chuckling.

“The Duke and The Prince…” Logan thought for a moment. He had heard of the duet of villains stealing and doing destruction around the city, mainly from Bright Raven and Flow, although there were previous reports from other heroes from different cities claiming this pair was going from city to city causing a lot of troubles before vanishing. To be a pair of attention seeking jerks, they were really good at disappearing without a trace. Not one single hero manage to get as close as to know their identities, their operations, HELL! Not even a single exact location of their base. They are a weird kind of nomad villain. As interesting keeping track of them while they do their destructive mess would be, Logan couldn’t let them get away.

-I think we need to cut our date short, I’m afraid- Logan tell Patton who looked at him.

-O-Oh… Alright- Patton seemed disappointed and a bit sad.

-W-We could do this another time!- Another time? Another time?! Logan practically yelled the request.

-I would really love that! Let me give you my number!- Patton extended his hand but then retreated it. –Wait… You already have it- He smiled and giggled.

Logan couldn’t resist to smile as well. Both got out of the establishment and went towards Patton’s car.

-It was really nice meeting you Logan. I hope you are ready for me spamming you!-

Logan sighed. –If what you are spamming are puns, I might as well block you already- said in a monotone, even though he meant it as a joke.

-O-Oh…-

-I apologize, I meant it as a joke. Feel free to contact me at any suitable time- Logan smiled kindly trying to mend his error. Patton responded by a surprised “Oh” and a smile.

-I’ll await your phone call, teach.-

With that Patton enter his car and Logan watch as he drove off. He smiled to himself and thought how lovely it would be to meet him again, even though the idea makes him really anxious. Tonight was a complete disaster after all. Well… It wasn’t until the literal disasters Duke and Prince came. Logan got a phone out and pressed a single button after looking around to see if there were any bystanders.

-Green Wonder. Syllogism here. I need back up in pursuing the villains known as The Duke and The Prince. Send any close hero to my location-

Prologue/ CH 1/ CH 2 / CH 3 / CH 4 / CH 5 / CH 6

Finally my boi Logan has less work and more social stuff.... man... This is gonna be fun. Prepare to cry though.

TAG LIST:

@thatweriddoodlingllama @kaimariethebi @potato–justpotato @enderperson43

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