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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 4 years

Text

with you [chapter three]

Summary: Clementine pops the question, Louis has nightmares, Violet can’t let go of the past, Mitch doesn’t know how to handle gross feelings, Ruby’s a goddamn sweetheart, Willy doesn’t ever remember to knock, Aasim can’t dance, and James is here, too.

Nothing like a wedding to bring this family together.

Note: I didn't plan on working on [with you] right now, but when the inspiration hits, listen to it.

I lost my momentum/motivation for this story a while ago, but damn it, I said I’d finish it so I'm going to finish it. [with you] isn't done, folks. Thanks for reading and for the constant support. I truly hope you enjoy this chapter and stick around for the rest. ❤️

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3

Read on: AO3

---

Well, the ring isn’t bigger, but it is flatter.

Too flat to possibly fit on Louis’ finger.

Well, fuck.

The hammer hits the workbench with a deafening clatter that bounces throughout the basement, causing a startled Willy to drop the tattered, blue tarp in his hands.

Mitch lets out a deep groan, leaning back in his chair while tugging at his hair.

“How bad is it?” asks Willy.

The ring’s a piece of shit, Mitch decides. He tried reshaping it, stretching it to be just the tiniest bit bigger, but progress was halted due to the fact that he fucked up.

Maybe it would be easier if he had Louis’ measurement- which Clementine has neglected to obtain yet- but right now, it’s damn near impossible to get it back to its perfectly circular shape.

“Fucked,” Mitch grumbles. He can’t give it back to Clementine in this shape. She’ll be devastated.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to look like that,” Willy yawns from beside him, rubbing at his eyes.

Turning the ring- if you could even call it that anymore- around in his fingers, concern furrows the young boy’s brow as he chews on his bottom lip.

“What are we gonna do?”

That’s a great question, one that Mitch doesn’t have an answer to yet.

Really, it should’ve been simple.

He should’ve been able to stretch it out a bit then reshape it into a perfect circle, into a ring. Now it’s just a long, depressing, wobbly, scratched up loop .

All the mornings he woke up early this week to come down here and work on it… all for nothing!

Fuck.

Clementine’s gonna be pissed.

“No clue,” Mitch sighs, pressing forward against the desk to step down from his chair. “Don’t suppose you got any ideas?”

“Maybe we could melt it back?”

“With what? Fire?” Mitch sighs.“No fire we could make would be hot enough to melt this.”

“We could just get it hot enough to reshape it, at least?”

“Maybe,” Mitch says, unconvincingly. "Then again, it is pretty cheap, whatever it is."

Willy tries stretching the ring with his fingers to no avail, only succeeding his pinching his pointer finger.

The only reason it got into the shape it is now is because Mitch secured it in an old wrench, then used a pair of thick pliers to try and reshape it. No set of fingers are going to be enough to pry it apart.

“If we don’t fix this, Clem’s gonna be mad at us!” Willy exclaims, slamming the ring back down onto the workbench. “There’s gotta be something we can do! Maybe we could find her a new one? A bigger size? ”

Mitch perks a brow.

“You got a bunch of wedding rings lying around that I don’t know about?” he asks. “Seems like a weird thing to collect.”

Not that he’d be all that surprised, though it’d be rather convenient. Willy collects all kinds of strange shit- used stamps off of old envelopes, coins, fun-shaped erasers, probably other stuff. The kid’s like a bird collecting random shit for a nest.

“No,” Willy grins. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t find one. What about the headmaster’s office? Or the old teacher’s lounge? Maybe one of them took their ring off and forgot about it?”

Seems like a long shot.

Most of the teachers who worked here before all the bullshit happened were married. Hell, Mitch bets that’s one of the reasons they ditched. Had to get back to their husbands and wives and dogs and whatever. Or maybe that was just the excuse they used.

Even so, he doubts any of them took their rings off before abandoning the school. Even if one happened to leave a ring behind, the odds of it fitting Louis were still not in their favor, which would put them right back into this predicament.

“Doubt it.”

With the ring and pliers in his hands once more, Mitch bends the ring the best he can. It’s much easier fucking up than fixing it, he thinks bitterly, though that could be due to that fact this his patience and energy levels are at an all-time low. With every failed tug at the ring’s material, every wrong bend, the muscles in his neck tense.

Fuck the ring, fuck the ring, fuck these pliers, fuck this damn ring, fuck-

“Careful!” Willy gasps out just a bit too late.

The force causes the pliers to slip from his hand and become lost on the floor.

The ring-

No, not a ring anymore. Nope.

“Mitch! You just-”

Broke it.

He broke it.

Mitch stares down at the damn this in disbelief. How the fuck was that possible? What is this thing made out of? Were wedding rings always made to be this flimsy? The walker Clementine took this from must’ve been a cheap son of a bitch because there’s no way that’s a thing that should’ve happened!

It just… snapped! Broke apart!

“Oh shit,” Mitch hisses out, cradling the ring in his palm, poorly attempting to stick it back together. “Oh no.”

Superglue! He had to have superglue down here! There’s-

A high pitched squeak echoes through the basement, followed by a leak of the morning’s barely rising sunlight and the metal clang of the basement door.

“Mitch?”

Oh-

Oh fuck-

“You down here?”

Mitch’s wide eyes meet Willy’s panicked ones. In an instant, the two yank the torn tarp over the workbench, knocking the flashlight off the edge with a loud clang. The basement darkens.

“Shit!”

Footsteps. Heavy, slow footsteps.

“Mitch?” James’ voice echos, sending a jolt through Mitch’s stomach. He fumbles with the broken ring, only for it to drop and bounce on the concrete floor.

“Ruby said I’d find you down here.”

“Oh, for fucks sake-!” Mitch dives down onto his hands and knees beneath the workbench, grumbling a string of curses as he feels around for the damned ring all while an annoying ache throbs in his knees.

“Nope! Not down here!” Willy spits out, jerking the tarp down over Mitch’s back, effectively shielding him from any light left. “Nothing to see! Come back later!”

Fucking shit- ouch!

A jagged rock digs into the bone of his kneecap, causing him to jerk up and smack the top of his head against the underside of the workbench.

Ouch, ouch, ouch!

A chuckle from James breaks through the shooting pain and Mitch can’t tell which is more annoying.

“Mitch isn’t here?” James asked, the amusement clear in his tone as he approaches. “Strange, I thought I heard his voice.”

Bastard.

Of all the fucking people in this school, James would be the one to come snooping around down here. Shit, maybe Ruby complained to him about yesterday and now he’s here to investigate what they’re doing.

That’s not good. It’s already bad enough that he enlisted Willy’s help after promising that he’d keep the damn marriage proposal nonsense to himself, he doesn’t need to add James to the list. Clementine’s already going to be pissed enough as it is now that she doesn’t have an actual functioning ring! She might really stab him this time!

“Nope. You didn’t hear anything! Not here,” Willy tries. “Nothing suspicious here.”

“I see. So, those aren’t Mitch’s boots sticking out right there?”

“...Uh, no? Those are, uh, my boots!”

For once, Mitch wishes Willy were a more convincing liar- ah-ha!

Rubbing along the dirty ground, the ring finally brushes against his finger. With the damned thing secured in his fist, Mitch quickly scoots out. Fighting with the tarp in order to stand up, he damn near trips over his own chair, saving himself by grabbing a hold of Willy’s shoulder with his free hand.

A bright light nearly blinds him, one held by a grinning James.

“Gah! Watch where you point that thing!” Mitch exclaims, batting blindly in James’ direction. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Oh, there you are. Uh, sorry,” James apologizes, lowering the light. “I hope your head is okay. Sounded like a nasty bump”

An irritating, sheepish warmth burns Mitch’s cheeks.

“Hurts like a bitch,” Mitch snaps. “Thanks. Now, what the hell are you doing here? It’s way too early for you to be poking around. And haven’t you ever heard of knocking? We’re in the middle of something and don’t need you waving our flashlight around like- like some sort of flashlight creep, weirdo, person!”

Mitch huffs, trying not to look out of breath after his tangent, but the charmed smile James wears makes him want to knock the flashlight out of his hand. Cocky bastard, catching him with his pants down-

Wait no, fuck, not-

James caught him fucking around with Clementine’s ring- which he doesn’t know anything about- and now he’s like a deer in the headlights- ha, there’s a better metaphor… y’know, because of the flashlight- and James is the hunter in the car waiting for an explanation.

Why the hunter would wait for such a thing instead of shooting the deer doesn’t make any sense but-

“Mitch?” Willy’s concerned voice breaks his train of thought. “Are you okay?”

“What?”

“You look-”

Before Willy can finish, James holds up his hands, quietly asking for silence. He cranks his neck to look behind him, back up at the closed doors of the second outdoor entrance.

The faint barks of Rosie ring outside.

Omar must be up, Mitch figures. Early bird starting breakfast, that’d explain Rosie’s excitement. He has to hush her by tossing her a piece of old jerky he found when messing around out here, that way no one was alarmed so early.

Shit, that means everyone else will be up soon, too.

After a moment, James turns back to them with a small, relieved smile.

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “I already know what’s going on. Clem told me you were working on the ring down here. You don’t have to hide or make up any excuses.”

Clem? Didn’t he say Ruby-

Wait-

“You know?” Willy asks. “About the ring?”

James nods down at the boy.

“I wanted to see how it’s coming along, and maybe help, if that’s okay,” James says, giving Mitch a sincere look. “She hasn’t gotten Louis’ measurements yet, has she?”

Mitch’s split on if he wants to throw the disfigured ring in his face or not.

“No,” Willy answers for him. “She hasn’t, and we screwed up!”

“Willy!” Mitch snaps.

“Big-time!”

James’ face falls.

“What happened?”

“I- Well, hold on!” Mitch stutters. “When did she tell you? I thought I was the only one who knew.”

James gives Willy a quick look, to which the young boy gives a guilty, toothy grin and a shrug.

“Okay, fine, fair enough,” Mitch sighs. “I needed his help and he swore he wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone . Right?”

Willy crosses an X over his chest, saying, “Scout’s honor.”

“I see,” James nods, watching as Mitch pulls back the tarp to reveal the workbench. “Well, so long as Louis doesn’t find out, I think you’ll be okay. And, uh, last week.”

James picks up the pliers from the floor. Mitch snatches it out of his hand before turning away, purposefully avoiding his heavy gaze.

He has the weirdest eyes, Mitch thinks. They’re so dark that you can’t tell where the pupil starts or ends and the way he stares is so-

Mitch scoffs, waving his hand as a silent, ‘Well? Go on.’

“When she came to get me, she asked if any of the walkers I keep in the barn happen to be wearing a ring,” James continues. “I searched and searched, but came up empty-handed. We ended up at the train station. She told me about her plans after she got the ring.”

Well, that makes sense, at least.

And here, Mitch thought he was the first and only person she told. Though he had to admit- not aloud, but to himself- that he’s a little glad that James knows. Maybe he has an idea of how to fix this mess.

Speaking of which-

Mitch, continuing to avoid James’ stare, uncurls his fist and sets the ring on the workbench.

James, finally sparing a glance away from Mitch’s irritated face, looks down at the remains of the ring.

A beat of silence passes as all three of them look at the damn thing.

God, they’re so fucked.

Finally, James hums.

“I don’t think that’s going to fit Louis.”

Mitch glares.

“Gee, ya think?”

“Told’ja we screwed up,” Willy mumbles. “But maybe we can just wrap it around his finger? Since, y’know, it can do that now.”

“Nope,” Mitch slams his hands on the workbench. “Nu-uh, now way, this ring is trash. Nothin’ we do is ever gonna fix it. Not gluing, not melting, not wrapping. We’re gonna have to start all over.”

“You have another ring?” asks James, leaning against the workbench with his arms folded across his chest.

Huh, he doesn’t have those nasty gloves on.

“Uh, no,” Mitch shakes his head. “We don’t.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Nope.”

What a mess.

Clementine asks him to do one thing and he just had to go fuck it up. He should’ve waited until she had his measurements. Don’t know what difference that would’ve made, exactly, but perhaps it would’ve been a step in the right direction.

God, he can see it now. She’ll come down here with or without the measurements and he’ll have to tell her that he broke her ring and then she’ll be pissed and the next thing he knows, he’s lying on the ground in agony because she kicked him in the dick.

Unless he comes up with a plan.

“I’m here to help,” James says, breaking the silence. “Anything you want me to do, I’ll do it. We’ll figure this out.”

Well, isn’t that so damn kind of him...

“What else can we make a ring out of?” Mitch asks, whirling around to face them. “Doesn’t hafta be fancy, just something they could wear without it breaking on ‘em. Something like- like wire, or shit, I dunno… wood? Do you think we could carve some rings?”

“Maybe,” James nods. “Though I don’t know how comfortable or sturdy wood rings would be, it’s a good start.”

“A last resort, at least?”

“I think so.”

“What about the library?” Willy pipes in. “We’ve got all kinds of books in there that could help. Remember all the books we found about boats and explosions? If they had books like those, then maybe there’s some on rings or jewelry making?”

Mitch grins.

“Fuck yeah, good thinking,” he pats Willy’s shoulder, “see if you can find anything in there. And remember, keep it down, yeah? Don’t need anyone poking their noses where they don’t belong, and we can’t let Clem find out what happened. Got it?”

“Got it,” Willy nods, a frown forming. “Wait, I gotta go alone? Can’t James come help me look?”

“No, he’s gotta keep an eye on the others.”

James shoots him a questioning look, which is more than enough reason for Mitch to turn away.

“We can’t have anyone coming down here, especially Louis. They’ll ask too many questions, and Clem can’t know I fucked up yet, alright?” Mitch says. “I’m gonna go to the teacher's lounge and see if I can find anything. If not, I’ll gather as many materials as I can find. We’ll meet back here later.”

“In that case, breakfast should be starting soon,” James looks back at the double doors. “I shouldn’t have any troubles, but I’ll do my best to keep everyone’s interests low.”

Mitch smiles, despite himself.

“Sounds like a plan.”

---

“One of these days we should just stay in bed.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep, spend the whole day in bed. Eat, play card games, sleep, what have you.”

Clementine grins, leaning up on her tiptoes to press another kiss to Louis’ cheek before saying, “Only if we can build a pillow fort.”

Louis chuckles for the first time this morning, fully turning around to face her, his hands pressed against the curves of her waist.

“Ah, a woman after my own heart.”

He dips forward as if to kiss her, and she’s fully prepared for it. It’s only when she feels the familiar material of her hat being pressed onto her head does she lean back and open her eyes to find him smirking down at her. He pats her on the head, poorly containing the laughter within him at the sight of her annoyed expression.

“Unfortunately for us, Clem, we can’t take a vacation day and spend it in bed,” he says, letting her go to head for the door. “Our dear Aasim said Lucy’s ready to pop today assuming she already hasn’t and apparently he needs more than Ruby’s help to deal with that.”

“He wants you to help deliver baby bunnies?”

“I know, I thought it was strange, too,” Louis shrugs. “He knows I get attached to cute, fluffy things, and when I’m attached, I don’t exactly want to butcher and eat them, y’know? Must be doing it on purpose to get back at me for always beating him in Go Fish.”

Louis swings open the door, motioning for her.

“After you, m’darling.”

Clementine rolls her eyes, though her smile betrays her.

“You go on ahead,” she tells him. “I’ll see you down at breakfast.”

“Well, in that case…”

Louis dips down and kisses her. His lips are soft and warm against hers, more than enough for her to hold him there for just a few seconds longer before pulling away.

Even though his exhaustion is still rimming his eyes, he smiles brightly.

“I’ll save you a seat,” he says. “And I’ll make sure AJ doesn’t eat your breakfast.”

“Thanks,” Clementine grins, and it’s on the tip of her tongue, the urge to ask him if he’s okay again.

At this point, she doesn’t need to ask, and he doesn’t need to hear it or answer.

Once he’s gone, Clementine gives a big sigh.

Alright, time to find Mitch and give him the string.

Her plan was more than successful last night. Now she finally has the measurements for Mitch to properly adjust the ring. How he’s planning on doing it, she doesn’t know, but he promised her that he’d try and she trusts him.

Mitch isn’t hard to find, which is surprising. He’s digging around in one of the hallway drawers when she finds him, muttering curses to himself with a bitter expression.

He’s spent most of the week down in the basement tinkering around with what she assumes is ways to fix the ring. While she appreciates the effort he’s putting into this, she wishes he was a little less defensive about it.

Ruby questioned him yesterday about it and he about blew up on her.

Mitch takes the string without a word and hurries back outside, never once looking her in the eye.

Odd, she thinks, but sometimes Mitch is hard to figure out. So, she lets it go.

As for the next order of business, she has to find AJ.

Considering he didn’t come back to the room last night, she assumes he had a sleepover with Tenn last night.

For that, she’s grateful.

Not only would he have walked in on something, well, intimate , but AJ has a hard time leaving Louis alone after one of his nightmares. Clementine warned him about being clingy, but all AJ says back is, “I just want him to be okay.”

Louis always insists he’s fine, that the nightmares aren’t really that bad, that he barely remembers them. She knows he still tells AJ that to reassure him. He used to tell her the same thing, only she knows better.

She can still remember the first time she told him to stop lying to her.

“Louis, stop. Just… stop. Lying to me isn’t going to make it any better. You can’t carry this on your own and I can’t fully be here for you unless you’re completely honest with me.”

She never held someone whose entire body rocked and crumbled with so much regret, so much fear. So many things brought to light, so much more than she initially imagined.

That was the first night they slept in the same bed.

He moved in two days later.

She can only hope that tonight’s better, that he can find peace in his dreams again.

Clementine leaves the dorms and steps out into the fresh morning air, inhaling the intoxicating scent of dew ridden grass and dirt.

AJ’s at one of the tables, scarfing down his breakfast next to Louis, James and Tenn.

From a distance, she can see how tired Louis is, even if he’s smiling and laughing with the others.

“Clem!” Omar waves her over, holding up a plate.

That’s when the scent of breakfast hits her, causing her stomach to tighten with a growl. She’s about to hurry over until she sees Violet loading up her bowl. Their eyes meet for a split second, and that’s enough to make Violet jerk around and head to the farthest table possible, one occupied by Aasim. Clementine watches her go as she approaches Omar.

“Good morning,” she greets him.

“It is a good morning, isn’t it? I’m glad there’s a little breeze today,” he says cheerfully.

“Yeah,” she agrees before bringing her voice to a whisper. “Hey… did she say anything to you?”

Omar gives Violet a quick glance, shrugging a shoulder.

“Just thanks. Nothing else. Tried making conversation but I don’t think she’s in the mood today. Y’know.”

“Right," Clementine nods.

"Hey, have you seen Mitch this morning? He hasn’t grabbed his food yet.”

“Oh, um, I haven’t,” she lies.

“He’s nowhere!” Willy exclaims from behind her, causing her to flinch. Somehow that boy manages to be both too loud and too quiet. He’s a good little sneak, she’d give him that.

“Nowhere?” Omar asks, frowning. “He can’t be nowhere. He’s gotta be somewhere. Oh-” Omar lets out a huff. “Is he in the basement again?”

“No!”

“That’s a yes, then,” Omar rolls his eyes. “He’s been down there a lot this week.”

Ruby comes over to them now with anger knitted in her brow and her cheeks puffed red.

“Oh, he’s been banging around down there all mornin’! I just went ta fetch him fer breakfast and he hissed at me like some sorta rodent,” she scowls, “tellin’ me to fuck off, he’s busy! What’s he been doin’ down there that’s so important?”

Willy bites his lip as if to prevent himself from blurting something out, but once Ruby pays him a stern look, it’s out.

“He’s totally not making something super awesome! Nope!”

“Oh, God,” Ruby groans. “What's he makin’?”

Willy shrugs with faux innocence before shooting Clementine a knowing smirk that makes her freeze.

“What’s he makin’?” Ruby asks again, harshly.

“Nothing!” Willy exclaims before pointing at himself, “I would know because I’ve been down there with him and we’re not doing anything! Nothing !”

Clementine never thought that she’d ever meet a worse liar than AJ but-

Wait.

“Willy, I know yer lying! What’re ya doin’ down there?”

“I’m not! We’re doing nothing !”

No, no fucking-

Clementine has to refrain from slapping her forehead.

If Mitch has been down in the basement working on her ring all week, and Willy’s been down there with him…

So much for keeping quiet.

“It best not be another cherry bomb ‘cause I will whip his ass so hard-”

“It’s not! Honest! Don’t worry, it’s nothing!” He smiles at Clementine again, baring all his crooked teeth. She glares back.

That seems to straighten Willy out. He looks down at the dirt and says nothing more.

“Well, either way,” Omar hands Willy a plate, “take that to him. I don’t want to hear him complain he’s hungry when he finally comes outta there.”

“On it!” Willy almost spills the food when he takes off, desperate to get out of the situation.

“Willy!” Clementine calls after him. “Hold it!”

He stutters to a halt in front of the basement doors. When she gets closer, she can hear a repeated banging echoing from down the stairs. They both look around to make sure everyone else is out of earshot. Deeming it safe, she leans down and demands, “What did he tell you?”

Willy avoids her hard gaze.

“Nothin’.”

“ Willy .”

“Okay, fine! Mitch said he needed my help fixing your wedding ring ,” he loudly whispers. Clementine’s hand shoots out to cover his mouth.

“Shhh!” Clem glowers. “Who else has he told?”

“No one,” the boy answers, this time honestly, shaking his head. “And I ain’t gonna tell anyone either, I swear.”

“Willy-”

“Really! I even promised Mitch! Scout’s honor!”

“Clem!” She hears AJ calling for her. She turns to wave at them while keeping her gaze fixed on the young boy.

Willy gives her a sincere smile.

“Don’t worry, Clem, we got it all figured out. James is helping us with it, too! Just leave it to us.”

“James-?”

With that, he hurries into the basement, calling out for Mitch. She sees some of the food slosh over and fall on the stairs.

She sighs.

At this rate, Louis’ll find out before she even has a proper ring.

Doing her best to ignore the nervous frustration spreading heat in her belly, Clementine grabs her breakfast and joins the others at the table.

Interestingly enough, she finds that they’re done with their food.

Instead, papers and colored pencils scatter all over the table. AJ and Louis hunch over their papers in full concentration while James sketches all over his paper lightly, eyes darting up constantly to look at AJ.

Just as she takes a seat, Louis sits back to flash a big smile, holding up his picture.

“Ta-da!” The other three boys stop and look up. They say nothing as they study the drawing. Clementine leans over to see as well.

“...What is it?” AJ asks.

“What is it?” Louis repeats, his confidence wavering. “What does it look like?”

“Like…” AJ squints, cocking his head to try and piece together what the drawing depicts. Finally, he settles on, “A bunny?”

Louis’ eyes go wide.

“A bun- what ?” he exclaims. He re-examines his picture. “It’s not a bunny! It’s Rosie!”

Hearing her name called, Rosie barks, trotting away from Omar and over beside Clementine, sitting politely and awaiting any leftover scraps.

When Clementine gets a better look at the drawing, she can tell that it’s… sort of like a dog. It’s the same color as Rosie, but the face is odd. And the ears are definitely too big.

AJ takes the picture from Louis and shakes his head. “Nope, not Rosie.”

“Everybody’s a critic,” Louis snatches the picture back and holds it up to her. “Clem, you can tell it’s Rosie, right?”

She blinks up at him before slowly shaking her head. She can’t help but giggle a little at the distress on his face as he looks at his drawing.

“I think it kind of looks like her,” Tenn says.

Louis sulks, resting his chin in his palm and slouching over, grumbling, “Thanks, Tenn.”

Clementine rubs his back and offers an encouraging smile. He grins back at her and steals a potato chunk off her plate, popping it into his mouth.

“Clem, look!” AJ hands her his drawing. It’s of him, her and Louis standing together with a large beach ball hanging in the air. “We’re playing catch!”

“Wow,” Clementine beams. “You’re really becoming a great artist.”

Louis leans against her shoulder to look. His face scrunches up in consideration.

“Hmmmm,” he turns the picture upside down for a moment, then right-side up. He glances at the young boy with a smirk. “Looks great, little man. This’ll look awesome on your wall.”

Pleased with the compliment, AJ laughs. He takes his picture back and signs it. When he goes to grab a new paper, he asks, “What’re you drawing, James?”

“Huh? Oh, um,” James snaps his head up, his hand instinctively moving to cover his page, “I was just… well,” he gives a sheepish smile, “I haven’t had a chance to draw in a very long time, so I hope you don’t mind but…”

When he holds up his paper, Clementine gasps.

The portrait of AJ on the paper looks so… real .

“Dude!” Louis exclaims, amazed.

“Hey!” AJ gasps. “That’s my face!”

James puts the paper down and looks away. “I-I’m a little out of practice, you see. The proportions aren’t exactly right, and I always had a hard time with ears-”

��Dude, are you serious?” Louis laughs. “That looks just like him!”

Tenn gasps lightly at the drawing as well, eyes darting over the portrait, taking in the details with curious eyes. His gaze falls back to his own picture, unsure, covering it with his arm and starts pressing his fingers together nervously.

“Where’d you learn to do that?”

“It’s what I used to do before. Charlie and I… we both drew,” James smiles. “He’s a lot better at it, though.” He picks his pencil back up, looking fondly at the portrait. “He could do amazing things. These huge scenes with so much life and so much character. Me,” he chuckles lightly, “I could only ever do portraits of people.” He looks at Louis with a comforting grin. “I’m terrible at doing animals, too.”

“You’re a real artist!” exclaims AJ. “Just like Tenn!”

Tenn, still fixated on James’ drawing, tucks his own under the stack of other drawings.

“Wow,” he finally says. “You’re really good. Like, really good.”

James notices the young boy’s sudden timidness and looks to Clementine with questioning eyes. She returns his look with a smile and a small gesture towards Tenn.

“Um, thank you,” James awkwardly places a hand on Tenn’s shoulder, “I could show you. How I draw like this, I mean. If you want.”

“R-really?” Tenn stutters. He takes a glimpse at the portrait. “I could draw like that?”

“Of course,” James smiles, “anyone can.”

“Even Louis?” Clementine teases, pointing at his picture of Rosie.

“ Hey ,” Louis takes the picture and holds it to his chest protectively, “I worked hard on this.”

“No doubt,” Clementine laughs, turning to Tenn. “Taking lessons from James could be a lot of fun. What do you think?”

The young boy nods, still not entirely sure, but willing to try. “Yeah, I-” he turns to James, “I want to draw like that.”

“Me, too!” AJ butts in.

“Actually, AJ, I need your help with something today,” Clementine says quickly before AJ can jump on the ‘Drawing with James’ train.

“Me? Why?”

Clementine picks up her plate and stands from the table. “C’mon, kiddo. You can draw with Tenn and James afterward. It won’t take too long.”

“But, Clem-” he whines.

“What do you need help with?” Louis asks. “Perhaps my services could be used instead?”

She grins at him but shakes her head. “Sorry, Lou, need AJ for this one.”

“But-” AJ tries again.

“Now, AJ,” she shuts him down. “C’mon.”

James offers the young boy a comforting smile.

“I’ll give you a personal lesson when you get back,” he says. “Promise.”

“Okay,” AJ sighs.

Just as AJ and Louis go to stand, James says, “Actually, Louis? Can you stay?”

“Dude, don’t mean to undermine your talent, but I don’t think even you could teach me to draw like that,” Louis tries to laugh.

James shakes his head. “No, it’s not that. We need a model.”

“A model?”

“To draw,” he explains, “drawing from life is the best way to learn.”

He gives Clem a knowing look, which she returns with a grateful one of her own, relieved at how intuitive James can be.

“Modeling, hm?” Louis sits back down, puffing out his chest and adjusting his jacket. He flashes a big, bright smile. “How do you want me? Happy? How about sad, distraught? Seductive, perhaps?” Pursing his lips, Louis winks up at Clementine.

“Still, looking straight ahead, please."

“Right, gotcha.”

AJ sighs loudly.

She nudges him with warning eyes. Before they can turn to leave, Louis reaches out for her hand.

“Hold on,” he says, pulling her closer. She leans down and he plants a sweet kiss on her cheek.

AJ sighs even louder.

“Have fun,” Louis smiles.

She squeezes his hand. “You, too.”

James places two blank sheets of paper in front of him and Tenn, handing him a pencil. Tenn takes it eagerly.

As she and AJ walk away, she hears Louis say, “Make me look good, fellas!” and she can’t help but giggle, just a bit.

“Can’t we go on patrol later?” AJ asks.

“Trust me, kiddo, this can’t wait,” she says. “It’s pretty important.”

“Did something happen?”

“No,” she says. “Not yet.”

---

Rosie’s tail wags happily as she trots out through the gates. She doesn’t go far, always sticking close to them as they walk the perimeter. If she ever does wander too far, all Clementine has to do is whistle and Rosie will rush right to her side.

“James is a really good artist,” says AJ, “even better than Tenn.”

“He’s had a lot more practice than Tenn has,” she replies. “With enough help, Tenn can be as good.”

“You think so? You think he can teach me to be that good?” AJ asks hopefully.

“He said he would, didn’t he?” she smiles at AJ’s excited face.

AJ continues to gush about James as they walk. Clementine remains mostly quiet, only answering when AJ expects her to. When he’s run out of things to say, they’ve already gone all the way around.

“No monsters,” AJ says firmly. “And nothing else.”

“Looks like we’re clear.”

“Yeah,” AJ nods. He starts for the gates. Clementine places a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s walk around one more time,” she says.

“Why? It’s clear.”

“I know,” she nods. “But, I need to tell you something, remember?”

“Is it bad?”

“No, not bad at all.”

“Oh.”

Clementine whistles for Rosie and they continue walking. She takes a deep breath and speaks the words she’s been repeating in her mind the entire walk.

“AJ, you remember the couple at the train station, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And, you remember what Louis said about them? After you found that picture?”

“Their wedding picture,” AJ nods. “He said they were in love.”

“Right.”

“A kissing love.”

“Right,” she says again. AJ waits for her to continue, but now, she feels at a loss for words. She stops walking and scratches at the back of her neck. “You know that I love Louis, right?”

“‘Course you do. You guys kiss all the time,” AJ teases.

Clementine feels her cheeks heat up as she murmurs, “Yeah, yeah, right.”

Sitting on one of many bulging rocks thrown about, she inhales deeply. Rosie sits by her feet, dropping the stick she held in her mouth. AJ joins her, concern and confusion apparent on his childish features.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” she finally says, “about that day and about that walker couple and… I’m going to ask Louis to marry me.”

AJ doesn’t say anything, not immediately. She can tell from his puzzled eyes that hundreds of questions are forming in his head.

He starts with, “So… what does that mean?”

“Well,” she starts, “it means that, if he says yes, he won’t be my boyfriend anymore. He’ll be my husband.”

Husband.

Let me introduce you to my husband, Louis.

“And you’ll be his, uh…” AJ thinks hard, trying to remember the word.

“I’ll be his wife.”

Just saying it makes her feel strange. Not a bad strange, of course, but a nervous strange.

“His wife.” AJ sits on this information, mulling it over. “And you’ll be married. So, things will be different?”

“Well, no, not really. We’ll have rings on- well, he’ll have a ring on, maybe. But, nothing drastic.”

“A ring?”

“Remember the walkers?” she asks. “At their wedding, they gave one another one to seal the deal, I guess. That’s what that picture was.”

Then, AJ gets excited.

“Okay,” he says. “So, you guys’ll have a big party?”

“Maybe we will, but I have to ask him first,” she says. “Last week, when I went to look for James, we went back to the train station to take their rings. Couldn’t find the lady’s, but the man still had his on.”

“You gonna give it to Louis?”

“That’s the plan.”

AJ’s grin grows wider.

“This…” he draws out, “this is a big thing, isn’t it?”

“It kind of is,” she answers honestly. “Well, for me and him, anyway.”

“Me, too,” AJ laughs. “I like this. We’re gonna throw a huge party! We haven’t done that in forever! We can pull out that, uh, that… music thing! And play games! And-”

“Woah, hold it,” she stops him, laughing at his eagerness. “I haven’t even thought of a way to ask him yet.”

“Well, go ask him now!”

“No, AJ, I can’t ask him right now.”

“Why not?”

“That’s not how it works.” She stands up and places a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I want to do this right. If I just asked him like it was any other question, then it wouldn’t be as important. I want it to mean something. I want it to be special,” she looks back at the school, “in a world that’s so fucked up, that’s taken away so much from all of us, where any moment could be our last. I want him to know how much I love him. How much I want to be with him in a different way. That’s why I went back and got that ring. I’m not just going to ask, I’m going to propose.”

AJ listens silently, the gears turning in his head as he processes her words.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” she sighs, “I love him, and I want to give us something that we thought was lost forever. Does that make sense?”

AJ grabs her hand, smiling.

“Yeah, I get it.”

Scooting closer, he wraps his arms around her waist, holding her tight.

“Good,” Clementine hugs him back. “That brings me to what I really wanted to ask you.”

“What?”

“Do I have your blessing?”

“My blessing?”

“Are you okay with me asking Louis to marry me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay? I love you, and I love Louis, too. We’re family.”

Clementine’s throat tightens, and so does her grip on AJ.

“That’s all I wanted to hear.”

#[with you]#twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg clouis #twdg mitch #twdg james #twdg jamitch #twdg willy #twdg ruby #twdg omar #twdg violet #twdg aasim #twdg rosie #twdg tenn #twdg aj #clouis #twdg louisentine #louisentine

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emgkheadcannons · 4 years

Note

Hurt kells headcanons?

Hurt Kells Head Cannons

I don’t know if you mean physically, emotionally, or mentally, so let's see where this goes. Well it turned out really long and is more a fanfiction I’m sorry. So the story under the cut, WARNING, part of it is really sad, and brief mentions of suicidal thoughts. It’s a happy ending though. Okay enjoy.

Well it turned out really long and is more a fan fiction I’m sorry.

Kelly is always hurting himself and Em is right behind him making sure he is okay. Kelly loves the attention and pampering, and Eminem is pretty sure Kelly is making him go gray.

Kelly is hazard prone. He has broken his arm running over parked cars, while drinking, cut his chest with a broken Jameson bottle, leaving scars, and has been hit by a double decker bus when he was in London. Kelly does a lot of reckless things all the time, he just gets back up, dust himself off, and continues on, even when he shouldn’t.

Kelly does not like not being able to do something, or having to slow down or worse having to have others slow down for you because he is hurt, but most of all he hates the useless feeling he gets from being injured. Sitting around, getting nothing done, depending on someone else for things.

It’s not so bad when he is with Em. He doesn’t feel like a burden, or that Em is only being nice to him because he has to. He is Eminem, Rap God, Slim Shady, if he doesn’t want to do something he doesn’t have to. So Em choosing to help him, check on him constantly, and genuinely want to be with him, makes Kelly feel

Eminem actually likes taking care of Kelly. He wishes he could dote on him all the time, not just when Kelly is hurting. Em is various about injuries and illnesses. He doesn’t mess around, and while he loves being able to dote on Kelly, he won’t let him get away with some of his usual antics.

When Kelly gets hurt for doing something stupid like flipping over the back of the couch, or jumping off the roof of a car, you can bet Em Lectures the Hell out of him, after making sure he’s okay. Then he cuddles the hell out of his stupid boyfriend.

It is one thing if Kelly gets hurt doing something stupid, it’s another if someone hurts Kelly. Em is very protective of his people, and Kelly is one. When a shitty reporter goes too far, making Kelly self conscious, Em hits back hard, black listing them from a ton of events, and getting other artists to refuse interviews with them.

Kelly’s interview on Hot Ones made EM so mad. Watching his idiot boyfriend eat those hot wings, when they both know they are mild taco bell guys, is frustrating. Kelly is hurting himself, Em can’t stop him, and when he gets home his stomach will probably be upset. At least Em will get a night in with Kelly, even if it’s him watching a movie with Kelly, rubbing his back, while the blond chugs Pepto Bismol.

Mentally

Kelly struggles with depression and anxiety. He is doing better now, but there is only one way to go when you hit rock bottom, and Kelly hit it back in 2018.

Kelly was mentally hurt at the end of 2018, after EM’s diss track came out, and it seemed like the world hated him. He could barely go outside without someone telling him how Em wiped the floor with him. He had people following him, threatening him, some even attacked him. He was worried about not only being booked, but also being able to perform, with how hostile people were being. Kelly was worried about Cassie being with him. What if someone decided to go after him, and she got caught up in it? He couldn’t live with himself if something happened to her, especially if it happened because of him

Kelly kept busy shooting movies, writing music, and whatever he could think of, to keep his mind from spiraling. Thinking those dark thoughts. ‘Would Cassie be better off without me? Would everyone be better off without me? What if I don’t get another gig, or role? How will I support her? …...Would anybody miss me?’

Kelly fell into depression, and his anxiety got out of control. Getting out of bed became a chore, and the crushing fear of failing everyone, made him wonder why he should even try if he was probably going to fail. He was able to get himself going most days, but the constant anxiety was draining, and he turned to alcohol, and drugs harder the weed to numb the feeling, which worked for a while. The problem is he had to use a little more every time to numb the pain.

Becoming good friends with Pete Davidson and Dominic ‘Yungblud’ helped Kelly out a lot. He drank less, it was easier to get out of bed, and the crushing anxiety of living quieted down but they didn’t go away. It wasn't until Eminem found him during a panic attack, at a festival they were both performing at that things began to change.

Eminem was wandering around the performers area one evening, close to some of the tour buses, when he heard something. He had nothing going on and wanted to find out what was making that noise. As Em got closer to the source of the sound, he saw a figure hunched over on themselves. He realized that it was a person, and it looked like they were having trouble breathing. Eminem rushed over to see if he could help. Kneeling down next to the person, Em sees that it is Machine Gun Kelly, and it looks like the kid is either having a panic attack, or a really bad trip.

Taking a deep breath, Em wrapped an arm around the other rapper's shoulders, trying to steady him, before he started talking “Hey, can you hear me? I need you to listen. It will all be okay. I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath.In, and out, in, and out.” The kid was responding but not as much as he would have liked. Making a decision, Em sat down in the grass, and pulled Kelly into his lap. It was a little awkward, but he made it work. “Alright Colson listen to me. I want you to match my breathing. Ready, in, and out. In, and out.” Em was finally getting the response he wanted, the guys breathing was slowing down, and becoming less erratic. “Okay, that's it. Just breath. It’s okay.” He didn’t smell any alcohol on his breath, so at least he wasn’t drunk, but he could still be high.

Eminem looked around and noticed that his tour bus was only two buses down. He couldn’t leave the kid here, and his band mates would most likely make it worse, so the last option was to take Machine Gun Kelly to his bus. He hated being so responsible. He didn’t even like the kid, but helping him was the right thing to do.

Eminem stood up, dragging Kelly up with him. He got under Kelly’s arm to help support him, but their height difference made it hard. Em gave up about three steps in, and just picked the guy up, carrying him the rest of the way. The older rapper noticed that Kelly was light, probably too light for someone his size. Em began to worry about what was going on with him.

Once safely inside his bus, Eminem placed Kelly on his couch. He pulled out his phone and called Paul. He needed more information before he goes any further.

He got his answers.

Apparently he has been receiving death threats lately, and someone broke into his tour bus tonight. The kid hadn’t gone out partying in a while, and seemed to be out of the public eye as much as possible.

Em turned to look at the younger rapper, and really looked at him. Kelly’s eyes had dark circles around them, like he hadn’t been sleeping, and his skin looked pale and ashen. His face was gaunt, like he wasn’t eating well. His nails were chewed short and were unpainted. Looking at his outfit wasn’t his usual put together, fashionable self. He looked like shit.

Marshall could tell that Colson was broken, he just didn’t know that he had a hand in breaking him.

Kelly wasn’t bad at ignoring what other people say, he just wasn’t the best at it, and if you paired that with how his life had been going for the past few months, it was pretty damn hard to ignore everything. The fact that Eminem, his rival, his idol, the man he liked, the man who destroyed him, found him during a panic attack, made him feel even worse. Crying in front of the man was just icing on the cake, of the shit show he called life. He had hit rock bottom and he knew it. Eminem knew it, and soon everybody else would.

The shocking thing was that Eminem didn’t go after him. He didn’t insult Kelly, didn’t use his panic attack against him. He didn’t throw Kelly out once he had calmed down. Instead the guy let him stay the night. He even offered to help Kelly.

Kelly was wondering if he was hallucinating. After all that has happened, after everything he has done why would Eminem offer him help. He didn’t know whether to trust the older rapper or not, but he has already lost so much, what else does he have to lose?

Emotionally

Trusting Eminem was the right thing for Kelly to do. They publicly squashed their beef, and that really helped with people coming after him, and the death threats have slowed down a lot. It didn’t end there though. Em convinced him to see someone about his depression and anxiety, which now that he knows that he has, he has a better handle on them. He has given up all his drugs, except weed. This is the cleanest he has been in years. He now drinks occasionally, and when he wants, rather than feeling like he had to drink or high to function.

Another benefit of trusting Eminem is that Kelly and Eminem were becoming friends. Em saw that Kelly was going down the same path he was years ago until Uncle Elton intervened, and now he was doing the same for Kelly.

Everything was going pretty well until Eminem realized that unlike him and Elton, he had feelings for Kelly, and that was a problem. How could he help him if he wants to date him. Only a few people know that Em is bi with a preference for men. He couldn’t tell Kelly. So Em does the dumb thing and starts to pull away.

Kelly was starting to feel like he was getting his life back together, and was doing well. But with all things in Kelly’s life something has to go wrong.

It starts with him and Em not hanging out as much, but Kelly just tells himself it’s because he is probably just busy. Then Em starts canceling plans on him. Their text conversations get shorter and shorter. The final piece is when Kelly finally gets to visit him, after months of trying, Em basically ignores him, won’t look at him, and practically dismisses him.

Kelly can’t take this rejection, not after everything that has happened. He makes it halfway down the hallway when his legs give out, and he starts to cry quietly. He is going over everything in his head trying to figure out what he did wrong.

He doesn’t know how long he is there on the floor, crying, when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Why are you on the floor? Why are you crying” Em asks, wiping away a tear.

“I'm sorry.”

“Why are you sorry.”

“I...I don’t know.” Kelly sobs while tears run down his face. “I’m so sorry. I don’t … don’t know what I did to make you so mad at me. Please..hic...please don’t hate me”

Eminem is shocked. Why did Kelly think he was mad at him let alone hate him. Em was so confused.

“I’m sorry.” Kelly kept on repeating between sobs.

Em did the only thing he could think of. He scopes Kelly up in his arms and takes him to his bedroom, placing Kelly on his bed, and wraps him up in his comforter. Kelly continues to apologize and sobs the whole time this is happening. When he finally quiets down, Em is holding him, like he did when Kelly had his panic attack months ago.

“What did I do wrong?” Kelly rasps, voice hoarse from crying.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, but you haven’t done anything wrong, and I’m not mad at you.” Em replies.

“Then why don’t you like me anymore. You helped me get my life back together, and we were like friends, but then you started avoiding me, canceling on me, and today you ignored me and then dismissed me, like I was nothing. I don’t understand. I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends, Kelly I promise. You have done nothing wrong. I did something wrong.”

Kelly was so confused. The look he was giving Eminem was adorable and pitiful; it makes Em’s feel terrible for how he treated Kells. Looking back he can see why Kelly thinks he hates him. With a heavy sigh, Em makes himself more comfortable before telling Kelly the truth.

“Not a lot of people know this but I am bisexual, and the reason I was avoiding you was because I have feelings for you. You don’t need me around wanting you when you are trying to make yourself better. I thought it would be better if I removed myself, but I clearly didn’t think how it would look to you. I’m sorry.”

Kelly buries his face in the junction of Em’s neck. He can feel the tears, from the other man, falling onto his collar bone. Kelly mumbles something that Em can’t make out.

“I’m sorry Kelly I couldn’t understand what you said.”

“Do you still like me?” Kelly asks a little louder.

EM takes a deep breath, and breaths out before replying.

“Yes, Kell-”

“Colson. My real name is colson.”

“Yes Colson, I still like you.”

“You really hurt me, Em-”

“Marshall. If I get to call you Colson, you can call me Marshal.”

“You really hurt me Marshal. I thought I had done something to make you hate me. I thought I was going to go back to how I was. Drinking and being high to just get through the day.”

“I’m so sorry Colson. I promise I won’t ever do that again.”

“That’s good, because I like you too.”

After clearing everything up between them, and working on their communication, Em and Kelly start dating.

(Using there real names are for serious, and super important moments)

Physically

A few months into their relationship, things are going well for them, and the people important to them know they are dating. Most took it well, and the few that didn’t (Rook), didn’t like it because they don’t like one of them (Rook still hates Eminem). Most people have stopped bothering Kelly for the beef, and the death threats have basically stopped.

Kelly had just finished his final concert in Detroit, and a whole week off to visit with his boyfriend, before he had to be somewhere. All they had to do was pack up the equipment, and make sure everyone was good then Kelly could head out.

About thirty minutes past midnight Kelly is heading to his car, when he gets jumped. Three guys come out of the shadows and corner him. Before he could say anything, never mind hand over his wallet, he gets punched in the gut. They continue to wail on Kelly, punching and kicking him, as he struggles to get away. Once beaten to a bloody mess, the men stop. He hears one of them say “that’s what a bitch like you gets for coming to Eminem’s town.” He always knew Detroit was dangerous, but he never thought he would be beaten up for his beef with Em after they ended it, especially after they started dating. He laid there for a moment trying to get up. His whole body hurt. He was bleeding from a few different cuts, his head really hurts, and his vision is blurry. He doesn’t know the extent of his injuries, but he hopes that he won’t need a cast.

When he finally gets into a sitting position, he sees his phone a few feet away, and miraculously it only has a few cracks on the screen from him dropping it. He calls Em, to come and get him.

Em rushes to Kelly. He brings his security too, to make sure no one else jumps Kelly. EM drives them to the hospital to have him checked out; his boy doesn’t look good.

Kelly is worse for the ware but he will be okay; it could have been much worse. He is covered in cuts, and bruises. He needs 4 stitches for a gash on his back, and gets his nose reset. Beside those injuries Kelly ends up with cracked ribs, a dislocated shoulder, two broken fingers, a badly sprained ankle, and the doctor confirms he has a concussion. The antiseptic hurt like a bitch, but it’s when they pop his shoulder back in place that he starts to tear up. The doctors agree to release Kelly into Em’s care, with strict orders on what the blond could and couldn’t do, and a few different prescriptions.

Eminem is beyond furious. Some dipshits thought they could jump his boy, beat the shit out of him, and get away with it. Fuck no. He will deal with them later. He wants blood but Kelly needs him right now. He sends two of his guys though to find out what they can.

It’s after four am when they get home. Em carries him up the stairs and tucks him into bed, careful of his injuries. He pulls the curtains tight, and makes sure the room only has a soft, dim light. He reviews the doctor's notes on how to take care of his boyfriend, and puts Kelly’s meds on the bedside table. Em checks the mini fridge in his room is stocked up on water and Gatorade. Once he feels good that he has done everything he could for now, he sets an alarm to wake Kelly up in an hour, and joins him on the bed.

Kelly wants to sleep most of the morning, but his boyfriend keeps waking him up.

“I know you want to sleep sweetheart but you have a concussion. You can go back to sleep in a minute okay. Come on pet.” This goes on until nearly three. Kelly is still tired, but he hurts all over, and his head is killing him.

Em is sitting on his bed, his back against his headboard, with his legs stretched out in front of him. Kelly’s head is pillowed in his lap, and he is carding his fingers gently through the blond hair. A notebook on his other side, so he can write some lyrics.

“Hey Em, I’m kinda hungry.”

“Does anything sound good to you?”

“Not really, sorry”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’ll figure something out. Will you be okay by yourself?”

“Yeah you don’t have to worry about me.”

Em untangled himself from Kelly and headed to the kitchen. He had thought ahead and ordered some chicken soup, and already had the good bread from the bakery Kelly likes, for his visit. He passes on the sweet treats he had ordered with the bread. Kelly’s stomach is probably not up to it, but he does snag a banana before heading back up.

Kelly is right where he left him. If it wasn’t for all of the bandages he would have thought his boyfriend had dozed off. Kelly should be up, chatting his ear off, doing something ridiculous, and generally just moving about. It broke his heart to see him like this.

For the next few hours Em resumes gently, petting Kelly’s hair, and softly talks to him, about anything he could think of. Kelly isn’t really listening, but Em didn’t expect him to. Kelly does fall back asleep later, and the older rapper gets to work.

He takes his phone out, pulling up Paul’s contact, and seeing if he has any news, on the guys who attacked Kelly. He’s not really expecting much, but is hoping for something good. Paul messages him that there is some grainy security footage and the police have a few leads. It was better than Em expected, but not as good as he was hoping for. He then checks in with the two men he sent out this morning. Their news is a little better. They think they have the name of one of the men.

Em would love nothing more than to beat the shit out of these pieces of shit, but he keeps himself in check. He has to be smart about this, beating the shit out of them would only make him feel better, not Kelly, and if he throws a punch, they could sue him, and it could make things messy for Kelly and him. People would want to know why he would go to such lengths for the blonde.

He gets up, making sure Kelly will be okay for a bit before heading to his office to make some calls.

Kelly wakes up, and is confused. His head really hurt, and his body felt like a giant bruise. It all came back, the concert, the attack, the hospital, and Em. He reaches an arm out, trying to feel where his boyfriend was. When he couldn’t feel anyone, he opened his eyes, which wasn’t great. Even the very dim light hurt his eyes, making his headache even worse, and his vision was still blurry. He shut his eyes quickly, trying to make the pain stop. Where was Em? Kelly didn’t know what to do. Em had left him by himself, and he was hurting so bad.

‘Was Em upset with him? For being such a burden? For being so weak that he couldn’t defend himself? Does Em even want to be with someone so useless?’ Kelly knew that these thoughts weren’t true but his head hurt and he couldn’t concentrate. He had to do something though. Anything but lay there, with his thoughts sprilling.

Kelly gingerly pushes himself up into a sitting position, careful of his shoulder and ribs. It wasn’t great but it was better. He then scoots to the side of the bed and tries to stand up. It takes a few tries, but he does manage to stand up, leaning heavily on the bed side table. He takes a few steps toward the bedroom door, before his knees give out, and he crumples to the floor. Tears begin to well up in his eyes from the physical pain, and from the feeling of complete failure. Not only was he in more pain now, he couldn’t even make it to the damn door. His thoughts came back, even worse. Kelly’s breaths began to grow quickery, and shallower the longer he lay on the floor, panicking over what Em seeing him, and realizing how useless he was.

Em had finished up his phone calls, and was heading back to Kelly, when he heard a weird sound. He knows that sound, but couldn’t remember where he heard it before, then it hits him. It’s almost the same sound he heard Kelly making, the night he found Kelly, having a panic attack.

“Shit” Em says, as he rushes to the door of his room, opening it quickly, to see Kelly, curled up on the floor, tears running down his face, and breathing very fast and shallow. Not wasting a moment, Em kneels down, gently scooping Kelly up into his arms, before heading to the bed. He sits down holding the injured man close, making sure not to aggravate any of his injuries more than they already had been, and gently starts rubbing circles on his back.

“Shh it’s okay, Colson. You are okay. I’m here. I promise I won’t leave again.” Em says, trying to calm the younger man down.

Kelly falls asleep like that, in Eminem’s arms. His boyfriend doesn’t know why Kelly tried getting up, or what triggered his panic attack, but he’s going to ask him when he wakes up.

Kelly ends up spending the next two weeks with Em in Detroit, being doted on. Em hardly left his side, after the incident. The first few days were ruff. Em was waking him up every few hours because of his concussion; he was sore and didn’t want to move. His medicine was hard to keep down. Also his concussion made him dizzy, and nauseous; his vision would sometimes get blurry, and his head almost always hurt. Em was with him, helping him do everything, which made Kelly feel like dead weight, and doubt his self worth, but Em saw the signs. Em was there when the younger man was at his lowest, he knew the signs of Kelly’s depression and anxiety, and was always watching for them. He made sure that Kelly knew that he was not a burden, that there was no way he blamed the blond for the attack, that he still wanted him around, that he wasn’t useless, and that he still loved Kelly.

Em would change his bandages, treat his wounds, help him around the house, and just take care of him. Whenever Kelly was hungry, Em brought him food he could handle, and he enjoyed, like the garlic tomato soup, and skyline chili. They also discovered that Em likes hand feeding Kelly, as much as Kelly likes being fed. Em always wants Kelly to eat more, and if hand feeding the blond then it is a win, win in his eyes.

When Kelly would say that he was sore the older rapper would run him a bath. The warm water felt good to his achy body. Em wouldn’t put any of his bath stuff in the water, worried it might aggravate something, but he did join Kelly a few times.

Em kept him away from electronic screens as much as possible, but by the end of the two weeks, Kelly really wanted his phone back. He knew looking at his phone, and watching tv was bad for his concussion but he wanted to mindlessly scroll through instagram, see the new drama on twitter, and catch up with everything going on.

The best part was when Em would sit with him most of the day. Sometimes he would literally sit with Kelly, sometimes with Kelly in his lap, and work on verses, other times he would cuddle Kelly, telling him about what's going on with friends, and people in general. Em holding him, petting his hair, checking on him, and even simply being near to make sure he was doing okay, made Kelly feel better. These actions made Kelly feel cherished, pampered, and loved, and for once didn’t feel terrible about being taken care of. He was learning the difference between being a burden, and being taken care of, and he liked it.

Em loved that Kelly was seeing the difference between wanting to doting on him, and being forced to take care of him. Hopefully Kelly continues to let Em take care of him, even when he’s not hurt. Slow days at home together, being domestic are his favorite.

Note: EM’s feeding thing is a mix between his own body image issues, wanting Kelly to be healthy, and him actually enjoying feeding Kelly.

#emgk #hurt au #send me asks

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boficionado-a2 · 4 years

Text

SO THIS RANT WAS SMTH I PUT ON DIS.CORD YESTERDAY. I’m gonna put it here now because my feelings are all over the place right now and I wanna talk Donnie. HERE WE GO.

I’ve always strongly hc’d that Donnie has severe issues with anxiety, depression, and self-esteem/imposter syndrome, and a lot of it stems from a simple inability to connect with his siblings. There's signs of it from super early on that Donnie does just about everything he can to maximize his chances of acceptance. His brothers, while they fight and have issues, all seem better socialized.

But per my (ongoing) theory, he has always been a world apart from them. He was leaps and bounds ahead of them intellectually, and save for a few precious early years where that didn't matter as much, he's ended up alone for a lot of his life, spending more time in his lab than with his brothers. They could all feel comfortable talking, playing games, training, but Donnie just... has this insatiable need to learn to do everything and do it well. It's the gifted kid problem... once that's identified, it becomes your identity, and he's built himself around that.

He's a genius. He really is genuinely gifted. He learns things on the fly, picks up scientific studies as easily as he does languages as easy as he does engineering. But on the same side of the coin as that being his true calling, it also meant that he got called to do a lot more than he should've from a young age. Because you know Splinter's not doing HVAC work.

(Note: we're gonna get into Jay is pissed off about the healing mantras bullshit in short order so buckle up.)

So as soon as he started showing that he could take apart and put together toasters at age six without electrocuting himself AND putting them back together better than before, it unfortunately came with... certain expectations. If it broke, or was found broken, Donnie was expected to fix it. When they got sick, Donnie could usually figure out how to treat it with a few hours and some books... so that's what he did. He set broken bones, learned to stitch cuts... he became a sort of family multitool. As a result, he never learned a healthy respect for his own self and autonomy outside of people needing him... and never needing him for just being Donnie. Needing him for being a mechanic. Needing him to be an engineer. Needing him to be a plumber, a doctor, tech support.

So when they finally started branching out past the lair the idea of people who didn't know he was a genius and might like the person he was under all that was probably more than a little seductive (this is also why I tend to hc he wanted April's friendship and wasn't so hard on the crush side). Problem is he's not sure who he is if he's not the smart guy. (I generally handwave a lot of stuff out of canon and have him not act like an asshat in regards to April... just kinda picking out the bits I don’t care for there, but. The initial desperation for that attention made perfect sense.)

The worst part about the crush, as much as I hated that they kept pushing it well after the joke stopped being funny, is it reveals part of that core insecurity. April's new. She's a friend. She doesn't have the background that's judging him purely on his genius. So of course he wanted desperately for her to like him. He wanted to have that stability that his brothers had. Someone who liked him for him.

He's a shy, awkward kid who likes to read, likes skateboarding, and is perfectly at home playing video games like any other kid his age. He's got diastema and an overbite, both of which he's pretty self-conscious about. Gets in trouble for not training hard enough, but then can't train because something new broke. He's got a temper, but tends to get sad before he loses it. When he's scared, he rambles off random facts about some minor detail regarding the situation they're in. He's attached to his big brothers, but afraid that he just exists as a roommate and not a sibling. And when left to his own devices, he's a quirky, sweet boy with a wicked sense of humor, biting sarcasm, and just a want to be loved and treated as an equal to his brothers without anything else driving that.

So he just... keeps relying on that. If he's useful, if he makes things for their friends and his family then they'll like him more, obviously. And then he messes up and they make fun and the cycle starts all over again. And then.

AND THEN.

THE HEALING MANTRAS GET TROTTED OUT. AT PROBABLY SIXTEEN YEARS OLD AFTER HOW LONG OF BEING THE ONE HIS BROTHERS GO TO WHEN THEY'RE HURT OR SICK.

All that's handed to Leo and he's got one less thing he's needed for, and that is crippling. He's a child, he's built his whole life and self around being needed just so he can feel wanted by his family... and now they need him for one less thing.

Then of course there's the space arc, and he's barely even present. He's a footnote, because Fugitoid is there to solve all those problems for them. It's even a minor plot point in an episode.

“I'm not as smart as the professor. I just build things out of junk.”

To say Donnie has near crippling issues with anxiety and depression and deeply rooted imposter syndrome and miserably poor self esteem is probably understating it a lot.

I honestly think it's also why I'm so attached to my Wheels au. Because the boys had to spend almost six whole months learning just how hard it was to keep things functioning. (Four months of Donnie's coma, and the initial two months after he woke up being mostly bedridden bc he was still really weak.)

So it wasn't just the joking "I wish Donnie were here." It was four months of "Everything is on the verge of breaking constantly" and realizing that he'd been keeping them alive far more than they knew. And then he wakes up and suddenly he can't do a lot of what he did before, and it's clear he's getting mired in a depressive spiral. Because now he feels like he's lost that one thing he had a tenuous grip on: being needed.

Obviously he’s still needed, and he improves with some time and help, but. Yeah. That verse is very near and dear to me for a lot of reasons.

AND THERE YOU GO. YEAH.

#╰ i observe; and once i observe i deduce ☣ meta ╮#((it's really long I"m so sorry))

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ladyfogg · 4 years

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May I? - 10/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

Screenshot by @ spacetailor

Faith hurried to Engineering, tying her hair up into a messy bun. Going to battle stations was not what she had in mind when getting ready for the evening. She had thrown caution to the wind, mostly, and put herself out there with Data, despite her anxiety.

It paid off, but now the Enterprise was in danger and there were more important things to deal with. She'd lament about their almost kiss and failed date once the danger passed.

As she sprinted to the lift, another violent hit shook the ship and she stumbled in her heels. "Stupid death traps!" she snapped, kicking out of the constricting shoes. They flew into a corner as she continued on, barefoot.

Engineering was chaotic when she arrived. Geordi was at the warp station, hands moving wildly across the screen. Other Engineers ran around following his orders while Carver manned the shields.

"Carver! Don't you dare let those shields drop below thirty-percent. We need to get the warp core back online so we can get out of here!" Geordi snapped.

"I'm here, Commander," Faith said. "How can I help? What do you need?"

"Diaz, help me with the warp core," he ordered as she took the seat next to him. "Something is preventing us from getting out of here and I can't find the cause."

She wasted no time trying to help him find whatever was blocking them. Another violent shake forced her to brace herself on the console.

"Mr. La Forge, status report!" Picard's voice came in sharp. "Why aren't we moving?!"

"I'm trying, Captain! Warp functions are offline. We're trying to bring them back."

"Try harder! Get us out of here, Geordi."

Geordi swore, slamming his hands down. "Damn it! That last hit knocked a conduit loose."

"Rerouting power to the remaining ones now," Faith said. "Commander, I isolated the problem! Warp power controls were disabled from all Engineering stations."

"To where?"

"No idea! Trying to compensate and restore them now." Faith's console beeped. "Damn it! I can't get them here."

"See if you can reroute to Engineering One. That's where it should go once we do a full reset. I'm headed there now."

"I'll do what I can."

Geordi left his seat and Faith slid into it, taking over main warp control. The room shook and several screens on the walls overloaded, breaking and sending glass flying everywhere. Faith ignored it.

Seconds later, Carver called to her. "Shields have dropped to forty-percent. We can't take too many more hits!"

"Do whatever you need to keep those shields up!" Faith ordered.

"Warp is more important," he argued.

"I know that, Carver! If I can't get warp functions we're sitting ducks. I need as much time as you can give me."

"Move over, I'll handle it." It wasn't until he put a hand on the console that she realized he had abandoned his station.

She smacked his hand away.

"Geordi told you to man the shields! He asked me to deal with the warp drive. Get back to your station, Ensign!"

"You're an ensign too! I'm his assistant. I know this warp core."

"Seriously?! Now is not the time! Get on those shields! That's an order!" Why was he arguing with her? Didn't he just see and hear Geordi's commands before he ran off?

"Don't talk to me like you're my superior just because you're sleeping with the walking calculator!"

Faith saw red. She abruptly stood and whirled around to face him. "Suck a dick, Carver! We are in battle and if you wanna have a pissing contest, I swear on my pretty floral dress I will win. But now is not the fucking time! Man those shields or get the hell out of Engineering!"

His eyes widened and his mouth fell open in shock. "Y-You can't talk to me like that!"

"I just did!" She sat back down and continued the bypass sequence. "Ensign Sawyer, relieve Ensign Carver from the shield station. Give me everything you got!"

She heard Ensign Sawyer say, "Aye, sir!" before the young man pushed past Carver to do as she said.

Hm, kind of like the sound of that, Faith thought.

The ship was hit harder than before and more pieces of machinery broke. Sparks began to fly but Faith's eyes never left her console. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw smoke.

"Barclay! Put that out!" she spat.

"Already on it, Faith," Barclay said.

"Diaz! What's taking so long?!" Geordi's voice came through over the com pad.

She was close. So damn close. The system had rebooted and was loading. "Almost got it, Commander! I need twenty more seconds!"

"Shields at twenty-seven percent," Sawyer called. "Weapon systems just went down!"

"Someone get them back up!" Faith ordered.

Another hit came. Just ten more seconds...

"Diaz!" Geordi snapped.

The warp controls turned green. "Done! Now, Commander! Now!"

The core engaged and a second later, they were rocketing through space, away from the battle. Faith remained posed for combat, jaw clenched as she watched the enemy ship grow further and further away on the cracked sensor screen until…

" We made it! We're out!" Geordi announced.

Red alert was turned off and Faith sighed with relief, collapsing in her seat. Her fellow Engineers cheered and a few even clapped her on the shoulder, congratulating her efforts.

Faith turned around to assess the damage. It was bad but most of it seemed to be superficial. Several people were helping others to sickbay. Quickly she could see that there were no fatalities.

"Ensign Diaz, report to the Bridge."

She hit the com pad. "Acknowledged. On my way."

As she stood, she looked towards the others. Those who remained seemed to be waiting for her instructions. "Sawyer, stay on those shields and see how much you can repair. I don't want to be vulnerable when we drop out of warp. Barclay, monitor warp functions and make sure it doesn't get rerouted again."

Her eyes met Carver, who was at the weapon station, face red and jaw clenched. She strolled over to him.

"Something you want to say to me?" she asked with a glare.

He swallowed thickly but maintained eye contact. "I'll be reporting you to Commander La Forge."

"I'll spare you the trouble since I'm headed to the Bridge now," Faith declared. "We could have died because you wanted to throw a hissy fit. I may not be the best on this team, but I'm still on this team . Remember that."

As she walked past, she paused and leaned in close.

"Fyi, I'm not sleeping with Data. But even if I was, it's none of anyone's god damn business. Keep my personal life out of your thoughts."

Satisfied she had said her peace, she made for the turbo-lift. It wasn't until she was alone that the weight of the situation came crashing down. The familiar stirrings of an anxiety attack began and she shut her eyes.

"Halt!" she ordered the lift. It stopped and she took a deep shaky breath before exhaling slowly, repeating the action three more times before she felt she was secure enough to keep going. "Continue."

She wiped away the stray tears that threatened to fall, pulling herself together. A few seconds later, she arrived at the Bridge and the doors opened.

Her eyes immediately went to Data's station and her heart relaxed as she saw him untouched and unscathed, looking as perfect as ever.

Geordi greeted her at the lift with a smile. "Well, done, Diaz. Well, done."

"Thank you, Commander. Sawyer is restoring shields and I have Barclay monitoring warp to make sure this doesn't happen again."

"Good idea."

She was aware the other senior officers were looking at her, but her focus was only drawn away from Geordi when Captain Picard approached.

"Ms. Diaz, Mr. La Forge, Mr. Data, in my ready room," he said, motioning for them to follow him. "You have the Bridge, Number One."

Faith caught Data's eye as he joined them and offered him a small smile, which he returned.

She had never been in the captain's ready room. It almost felt like she was being called into the principal's office.

"Ms. Diaz, have a seat," Picard offered her a chair as he took his own. "You look dead on your feet."

"Do I?" Faith looked down at herself and it was only then that she realized she was a mess.

Her dress was covered in soot and scorch marks. The broken glass from the screens had made small cuts on her arms and legs. Her bare feet were cut as well and she noticed a drop of blood fall from her cheek to her chest.

She was hit by a wave of dizziness as the last of her adrenaline faded. "Oh dear." She swayed but was caught by Geordi and Data. Picard half-stood to help but sat once he saw they had her.

They helped her sit. Geordi took the seat next to her while Data stood by her side.

"Are you injured?" Data asked.

Faith shook her head. "I don't think so. Not badly. I think everything just caught up to me. I'll be okay."

"That was some fine Engineering work, Faith," Geordi said.

"Thank you, sir," she said. He had let her go but Data's hand remained in hers, his other resting on the back of her chair.

"Let's discuss the matter at hand. The odds of an unknown enemy suddenly attacking the Enterprise an hour after we disabled a makeshift transmitter are slim to none," Picard said.

"I agree," Data said. "The timing is all too convenient. Whoever made the transmitter must have been contacting the ship that attacked us."

"We're heading to the nearest starbase for repairs immediately, but this investigation just became more urgent. I've been in contact with Starfleet but they can offer no solutions at this time. They are concerned that the flagship of the Federation was seemingly boarded by a secret enemy. I want the three of you to figure this out fast ."

"I'll pull whoever I can from Engineering to start dismantling the transmitter and studying it," Geordi said. "It's construction is too unique to be random."

Picard nodded. "Make it so. Lieutenant Worf is already organizing a full security sweep of the Enterprise from top to bottom. We will find whoever is responsible."

He turned his gaze on Faith. "I am handing full control over his investigation to Commander La Forge. In the meantime, I'm making you Second-in-Command. Assist him with whatever he needs...Lieutenant."

"I'll do my—" Faith paused, registering what he said. "Sir?"

Picard smiled. "I am promoting you to Lieutenant. Today proved you're more than capable and ready. If it wasn't for you, I doubt we would have gotten very far. Mr. La Forge and I had discussed this a while ago but it was only recently the discussion resumed. Now is a good a time as any."

Faith looked at Geordi who gave her an encouraging smile. "You've earned it, Faith."

"Thank you," she said, looking back at Picard. "I won't let either of you down." She suddenly remembered what happened with Carver and her excitement quickly disappeared. "Uh oh."

"What?" Geordi asked.

She winced. "There was an...altercation with Carver, sir. He refused to stay at the shields and said something inappropriate and I may have said something I shouldn't have, especially as I'm now his superior."

"What did he say?" Picard asked.

"He insinuated I was given special treatment because I slept with…" She paused. "...with a superior officer."

"He said what?!" Geordi exploded.

Picard held up a hand to silence him "What did you say in return?" he asked Faith.

Faith felt her face grow hot. "I...told him to suck a dick."

Picard planted his face in his hand while Geordi snorted, his anger on hold as he tried to hide his amusement. He failed miserably.

"I'm sorry! I know it was unprofessional but we were in danger and he was being a…" She stopped herself. "It won't happen again."

"I should hope not," Picard said. "I'd rather not have my officers yelling such things at one another."

Geordi's shoulders were still shaking as he held in his laughter.

Data looked confused. "I do not understand the reasoning behind telling someone to perform fellatio, or why Commander La Forge finds this so amusing."

At this Picard held back an amused smile. Faith was utterly embarrassed. "It's, uh, a rather crude way of telling someone to shut up," the captain explained.

"Ah. I understand," Data looked down at Faith. "I am sure you had a good reason to say such a thing. Especially since he was spreading false information."

"Commander La Forge will handle the proper disciplinary action for Ensign Carver. Now," Picard stood and adjusted his uniform. "Mr. Data, escort Lieutenant Diaz to sickbay and then to her quarters. Mr. La Forge, return to Engineering and assess the repairs we need. Dismissed."

Faith's head was spinning and this time it wasn't because the adrenaline had worn off. Data helped her to her feet while Geordi led the way out of Picard's room.

As they stepped onto the main Bridge, Riker shot her a smile. "A little overdressed for an enemy attack, are we?" he teased, both he and Deanna giving her and Data knowing looks.

"Yeah, well, my date was interrupted by torpedoes so I didn't have time to change," Faith muttered. She felt Data squeeze her hand.

"Or put shoes on apparently."

"You try running in heels, Commander, and see how far you get."

There were a few chuckles from the rest of the staff, including Picard who took command back from Riker. Geordi took the turbo-lift to Engineering while Faith and Data took one to sickbay.

"I am glad you are not severely injured," Data said once they were alone.

"I'm glad you're not injured too," she said, leaning into him. She rested her head against his chest and took a deep breath.

"I assume our dinner did not count as our first date."

Faith chuckled. "No. No it did not. Though I am very disappointed our kiss was interrupted."

"Would you like to try again?"

"Maybe later. When I'm not covered in grime and blood, and we're not riding the turbo-lift. But I appreciate the offer."

"I understand."

The lift came to a stop and they exited, heading for sickbay. They weren't the only ones going in that direction.

Dr. Crusher and her staff were swamped with patients, all injuries ranging from minor to severe. Beverly passed them as she ran by, giving Faith a once over.

"I'll get to you as soon as I can," she said.

They watched her go and Faith sighed. "I can handle this myself if you want to go. I'm sure you have somewhere more important to be."

Data cocked his head and stared at her curiously. "What could be more important than making sure you are taken care of?"

Faith felt her cheeks grow warm. "Charmer."

"I did not say it to charm you. It was merely an observation."

They stood off to the side. Data still held her hand, the other placed on her lower back. The weight of it gave her a focal point, something to keep her thoughts from racing.

It took time for a bed to become available but once it did, Data helped her onto it. Faith was beginning to feel the pain that came from being in a battle. Her neck was sore from whiplash and her cuts were starting to burn with irritation.

"That's pretty deep," Beverly said when she finally approached them. Gently she took Faith's face in her hands and turned her cut cheek towards the light. "Do you know what caused it?"

"Glass from the monitors."

Beverly passed her tricorder over Faith. "Thankfully I'm not picking up any fragments of glass in any of your wounds so I don't need to do anything invasive. The dermal regenerator should work just fine. Anything else?"

"Just minor scrapes," Faith said.

Beverly nodded and pressed the hypospray to her neck. "This should help tissue regeneration for those smaller cuts, as well as any pain or discomfort. Let's just take care of your cheek and you'll be right as rain."

One zap from the dermal regenerator and Faith's face was cut free.

"There, all set," Beverly declared with a smile. "You should be good as new by the morning."

"Thank you, Dr. Crusher."

"You are very welcome. And I was very happy to see your message this morning."

"Yeah, well, a certain android had a very persuasive argument."

They both looked at Data who had been standing diligently by her side. "She is referring to me," he chimed in.

Beverly chuckled and Faith saw her eyes linger on their still joined hands. "I gathered as much. You're free to go, Faith. Get some rest."

"Thanks. Doctor."

It wasn't until Data led her back to her quarters that Faith realized he was being awfully quiet. She unlocked her doors and pulled him inside with her, expecting him to resist or take his leave. He did neither. When the doors closed, their hands separated for the first time since they entered Picard's office.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she asked as she turned to face him. "You're unusually quiet."

"I am processing."

"Processing what?"

"Several hundred things at once," Data said, watching as Faith loosened her messy bun. "This is the second time I have witnessed you with blood on your face. I do not like the image."

She smiled. "You worried about me, Data?"

"In a sense," he said. "My lack of feelings do not permit me to worry."

"If it makes a difference, I also would not like to see you injured or dismantled."

Faith was exhausted and needed a hot shower. "I should clean up. You're welcome to hang out for a bit if you'd like to talk once I'm done."

Data smiled. "I would, thank you." He sat on the couch to wait for her.

Faith left to wash the dried blood and soot off her, saddened that her new dress had been ruined. She had spent hours agonizing over whether or not to dress up for dinner and while it had been the right move at the time, going into battle gussied up was not something she wanted to repeat in the future.

She cleaned as fast as she could so she wouldn't keep Data waiting. When she finally emerged, she wore an oversized shirt and sweatpants.

She paused in the doorway, her face breaking into a smile. Data had not moved from the couch. He remained exactly where she left him.

Faith crossed the room, suddenly shy. This was Data, her friend. There was no reason to be nervous and yet her heart was threatening to escape her ribcage. And she wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Are you feeling alright, Faith?" he asked as she took the seat next to him. "Your heart rate has spiked significantly."

"I'm fine." At his doubtful look, she chuckled. "And I really mean it this time."

They sat in silence, neither seeming to know how to proceed. Faith was a jumble of emotions, her head spinning from the failed date, to the battle, to the argument, to the promotion...all on an endless loop. She was unaware her breathing had picked up until Data put his hand on hers.

When she looked at him, he gave her a reassuring smile. "The danger has passed."

She sighed and slumped against him, shutting her eyes as she focused on her breathing. Data's arm came around her shoulders, his other hand still holding hers like it had before.

"I do not know what to say to offer comfort," he admitted. "I have talked you through your anxiety previously but I understand these are different circumstances."

"You don't need to say anything, Data," Faith said in a hushed tone. "You just being here is more than enough."

"Because my presence makes you feel safe?"

She recalled her words from that morning and smiled. Had it really only been that morning? A lot had happened, and changed, in the span of one day. Such as it was aboard the Enterprise.

"Yes, Data. I can't explain why, but you make me feel safe."

"I am honored to provide you with such comfort, though I lack the emotional capabilities to understand how."

Faith pulled away to look at him. "Data, let me ask you something," she said. "If you don't have any semblance of emotion, how is it you are able to care?"

"I only wish to see my friends happy."

"Exactly," Faith said. "If you had no emotions, if you were incapable of feeling anything, you wouldn't try so hard. You wouldn't care so much." She squeezed his hand. "You would not be sitting here right now."

"Captain Picard ordered me to escort you to sickbay and your quarters."

"Did he order you to hold my hand? Did he order you to stay with me even if I let you leave? Did he ask you to sit in the dark waiting for me while I cleaned up?"

Data processed her words, eyes dancing from left to right as they fixated on hers. She had spent enough time with him to know when he was calculating. So she waited for him to reach his conclusion.

"No, he did not."

"So why did you?"

"Because I…" Data paused. "I...do not know."

Faith reached out to lay a gentle hand on his cheek. "Because you felt like you should. Because you wanted to. Because you care. "

Data's eyes continued to search hers and when she saw his gaze drop to her lips, she stared at his as well.

"May I kiss you now, Faith?"

"Please do."

Her hand dropped from his face while both his cradled hers, holding it as if she were fragile. She supposed to him she was. She didn't feel like she was. Not right there and then. Not when her eyes slowly closed and his lips finally touched hers. Not when her body erupted with a flurry of emotion she was not prepared for.

He did not move, only pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss which lasted a mere few seconds. It felt like a lifetime to Faith and when he drew back, her eyes fluttered open.

They stared at one another, enraptured.

Faith gently placed her hands around his wrists, silently urging him to stay right where he was. She didn't have the luxury of a perfect memory. She needed time to study the way he looked as he stared at her through the dark, the lights of hyperspace flying past her window.

"Was that sufficient?" he asked, voice even softer than usual.

Faith smiled. "Yes, it was. Do it again."

Data kissed her again, the same soft press of lips, the same calculated precision. And she felt the same flood of emotion. Then his mouth started to move. It was subtle and ever so slow, but it sent tendrils of desire rocketing through her body, where they settled into her gut and tugged.

All at once, it became too overwhelming and it was she who drew back this time, panting softly.

"Wow." was all she could manage to say.

"I assume that means you enjoyed our kiss."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's a safe assumption."

"I did as well." Data released her face, hands running down her arms until their hands were joined. "However, it is late, and we will have a lot of work to do tomorrow. I suggest you go to sleep."

"Sure, kiss me like that and then leave. I see your game, Data. Keep me wanting more," she teased, the edges of sleep making its way into her voice.

Her body was fatigued beyond belief and though desire still remained present, she knew he was right. Tomorrow was a brand new day and a brand new promotion; she needed to be at her best.

Data raised his eyebrow. "I do not believe engaging in sex would be wise this late in the evening."

Faith laughed. "I was teasing," she assured him, letting his hands go as they both stood. "But don't think I've forgotten about that 'fully functional' remark. We're definitely going to talk about that at some point. I have questions."

"Noted."

She walked him to the door. He paused before leaving, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"I will see you in the morning."

Faith smiled and watched as the doors opened for him and he stepped out into the hall. "Good night, Data."

"Good night, Faith."

#commander data #lt commander data #data tng #data soong #star trek next generation

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valasania-the-pale · 4 years

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The Last Rose - Chapter Three

Sorry for the delay, college decided to be a bit of a pain in the ass these last few weeks. Hope you all enjoy, please read and leave a review!

Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY, I'm just playing in the sandbox.

X_0_X

Her Uncle leaned on Harbinger, the weapon transformed into its scythe configuration. The snath didn’t even bend underneath his not-inconsiderable mass, such was the skill that had gone into its construction. “So, kiddo. You’ve got your pig-sticker. And you’ve got me out here to teach you how to use it.” His head tilted to the side. “Do you even know what you’re asking?”

“I know, Uncle Qrow,” Ruby would not be deterred.

She had the will, she had the means, and now she had the weapon to match. She would have her teacher if she had to beg on her knees for it.

She twirled her newly-completed scythe – still no name, she hadn’t though of something fitting yet – and waited, hoping he would see something in her that would ease the thoughtful furrow of his brow.

“Heh…” he took a swig from his flask.

Ruby’s nose wrinkled in disgust as the stench prickled her senses.

“You’ve got the moxie for it too, I guess,” he chuckled, finally, his hard red eyes observing her silver, reading her. “But that ain’t the question I’m asking. Why do you want to be a huntress, Ruby? Honest answer here, this isn’t a fairy tale or some kid’s story – why should I teach you how to wield that thing?”

…

I want to help people – I’ve always wanted to help people.

To be the hero in the stories, slaying monsters, saving the day and bringing hope to a world where hope is fragile.

I want to be like my mom was, before she died. Or my dad was, before depression started eating him alive. Or even my uncle, before he started hiding from his demons in the depths of a bottle.

Being a hero… being the best person I can be - that is the standard I’ve tried to live by throughout my entire career from start to finish.

Unfortunately, slaying monsters is the easy part. I’ve never been very good at helping myself.

X_0_X

“Are you waiting for the ball to grow legs and move itself, Yatsu?” Velvet Scarlatina playfully called from her seat.

The imposing huntsman rolled his eyes at her, still circling the pool table to find the perfect vantage point for his next move. He’d done the same thing the last time it had been his turn, and the one before that – Velvet figured that if he’d been the one to break, he’d have considered his options for several minutes there as well.

Coco nudged her from the side, smirking overly wide when Velvet glanced over. Velvet sniffed. Bitch. So what if she’d drawn the short straw when it came to teams? Fox didn’t waste his time pretending to know what he was doing, sure, but he couldn’t predict shots for shit…

Finally finding his angle, Yatsuhashi leaned over the table, pool cue in hand. Velvet’s lips quirked up at the sight; the man was so big, his shadow covered nearly half the table.

“Don’t you dare start chalking up again, Yatsu,” Coco snarked.

“Impatience is no virtue, Coco.” The giant of a man didn’t even seem phased by her taunt.

He drew back, and the satisfying clack of colliding stone filled the air. “He’s going to sink one of ours, Vel,” Coco observed.

“Shut up! He is not!”

Seconds later and one enemy three-ball pocketed, Coco grinned smugly and sashayed over to claim her spot around the table. Long ears falling flat over her head, Velvet commiserated with her teammate as he plunked down into Coco’s chair.

“It’s alright, Yatsu. You know she just makes us play ‘cause she knows we all suck at this game.” She patted him on his heavy shoulder.

Yatsuhashi merely pouted.

Fox grinned widely at the two from his table, sketching away in his journal. Probably working on his shading again… He tried so hard to be the team’s cartographer-slash-chronicler, but if Velvet was being brutally honest, he wasn’t very good at it.

Well, maybe even that was too nice. Fox just kind of sucked at drawing, not that anyone was terribly surprised. Nobody else wanted to do it though, and he lost that bet with Yatsuhashi, who got tricked into it by Coco, so it was his job now.

What was it that Oobleck had called them when they showed up for class with half-baked sketches for their homework? ‘Functionally cooperative?’

Didn’t matter. Fox could smirk all he wanted. She was still the best at rhythm games by far, not this stupid bar game.

As Coco leaned over to take her shot, mouth thinning into a tight line, Velvet perked up as the door to the door loudly slid open – a stone-faced Mistral official marched in, barely pausing to shut it behind him.

That usually wasn’t good – this bar was well-known for the huntsmen that frequented it. If Mistral was bothering them this late at night, it meant something important was afoot. Her chocolate colored eyes flickered over the various faces throughout the room. Huntsmen, huntresses, some of them here in teams and some alone.

Perhaps two dozen wary eyes fixed on the official, measuring, anticipating what trouble he’d bring to their lives today.

Coco plopped herself down in her seat as her streak came to an end, handing off her cue to Velvet. Her interest waned quickly as she returned her attention to the table, now several solids short of where it had been a minute ago.

Damnit Coco…

At the bar, the owner was in deep, rapid conversation with the official. She tuned them out. They’d probably make an announcement to the bar in a second.

Velvet drew her arm back, tongue stuck out the corner of her mouth. She’d been left an easy opening this time – she could make this, sure thing.

“You said Ruby Rose?”

Mid-thrust, Velvet jerked. The cue ball clacked against the bumper, sailed off into the wrong direction and soundly pocketed the eight ball. She blinked, momentarily astounded by her bad luck - She wasn’t that bad at pool! – before whirling around to pay much closer attention to the exchange.

The barkeep was pale – well, paler than usual. Mistrallans didn’t usually have much color to begin with this far north… His hands wrung together, face a scrunched up, mess of worry. All around, the other huntsmen watched with carefully guarded interest.

They all knew Ruby. Who didn’t? The little reaper had a reputation, after all. Everything she was involved in either made for great stories, or great trouble. That was also to say nothing of the fact that she was probably on friendly terms with almost everyone in the room.

Another moment passed before the official finally cottoned onto the attention he’d drawn. He shot a questioning look at the barkeep. Getting a nod in return, the man stepped forward.

“Huntsmen, you know that the Mistral Council prefers not to interrupt your valued time between assignments,” he began, voice raised despite the entire room falling silent to listen. “Unfortunately, a situation has arisen that necessitates our action.”

The man pulled a sleek-looking scroll from his pocket and handed it to the barkeep. “Hours ago, one of our airships returned from an assignment down south without the two huntsmen it was supposed to be retrieving, as well as one of its pilots. The remaining operator has provided us with footage of why this is.”

A large holographic screen appeared off to the side – specifically installed for these sorts of situations. Velvet glanced at her team apprehensively while they waited for the image to buffer.

Yatsuhashi and Fox wore identical grim expressions, leaning forward in their seats with hands held stiffly in their laps. Fox’s fingers twitched erratically as he restrained his need to move and be active. Coco merely leaned back in her own chair, arms crossed behind her head and features perfectly blank.

Velvet squirmed. How was Ruby caught up in this? She’d heard her friend had been taking smaller missions lately. Nothing that should lead to the Council’s intervention.

The image finally loaded, the feed grainy and indistinct.

Whatever camera it came from was obviously loaded onto some sort of drone – Fox usually carried theirs around when they chose to use it. The perspective constantly vibrated and shifted as the wind picked up and changed directions.

A village in flames. Smoke rising from the ruins, masking most of the scene. What little was visible was hellish – houses crumbling under their own weight as support beams charred through and dissolved, broken stone toppling over, and the aside from the flames devouring everything in reach, a dreadful stillness unnatural for the relatively large settlement.

But then a tiny figure in a distinctive scarlet, hooded cloak stepped into the large open courtyard, carrying a scythe longer than they were tall.

Velvet felt her lips press into a line, fingers clenching the arms of her chair. Ruby.

Something else entered the frame – previously covered by the smoke. She had to restrain herself from blanching. Grimm that large were extremely rare, and often frighteningly powerful. The picture was so bad she couldn’t quite tell what its species was, but the thick armor distributed around its body was more than enough to confirm her fears.

An Ancient had surfaced in Mistral.

And Ruby was going to fight it. Had fought it already.

Velvet hoped her friend had better sense than that and ran.

The bar was mostly silent, save for the hushed whispers making the rounds as huntsmen moved toward their teams. Already, there were plans circulating. How to kill such a powerful specimen of Grimm, what sort of weapons would be needed. Rumors as well, abilities, its species, strengths, weaknesses. All things huntsmen would want to know.

In the video, the drone hovered, getting as clear an image as it could as Ruby faced off with the beast.

‘Oh dust, this has to have happened hours ago. Is she alright? Is she even alive?’

Ruby suddenly vanished, becoming nothing but a faint scarlet blur. Her scythe slashed at the Ancient, once, twice - three times to stave off an angry swipe, and then the huntress was backing away to avoid further retaliation, then turning into a whirlwind of blurring steel and rose petals. Velvet grimaced at the sight. The beast was barely fazed by the assault… Ruby was so tiny compared to it…

Velvet’s heart skipped a beat as Ruby abruptly froze in place, her legs anchored to the ground by something shadowy – what the hell were they? Some sort of subterranean Grimm? She freed herself swiftly, but Ruby had nowhere to escape as the Ancient bore down on her.

“No…” she whispered as Ruby’s hasty escape attempt was brutally punished. The camera suddenly panned away toward an approaching airship, just too slow to hide the distinctive flare-and-flicker of scarlet light around Ruby as she crashed into a crumbling house.

“The video was taken by one Bai Long,” the official spoke up once the video ended. “He had time to transmit the feed to the airship before he and his partner, Reed Bryce joined the huntress in the fight. Though it has yet to be officially confirmed, it is highly likely that she is indeed Ruby Rose – her last mission puts her near the area, and the appearances match up.”

“The Council believes that thing is Ancient?” A dark-haired huntsman spoke up from a booth on the other side of the room. His face was inscrutable.

“Correct. The Huntsmen’s Guild has already issued a Class Eight Search and Destroy mission, if Miss Rose and Misters Long and Bryce have not already eliminated it.”

“That thing isn’t going down without planning and firepower.” Another huntress leaned forward. “I know Bai and Reed – they’re strong, but even with the Reaper’s help they’re not going to kill an Ancient in one go.”

“How many teams is the mission asking for? Or is it solo?”

“Fuck the mission board, anyone who thinks that one team is going to be enough to kill that thing is suicidal.”

Velvet tuned out from the conversation, pulse speeding up to match her rising anxiety. The game was forgotten behind her as she rose to her feet and gracefully wove her way between several tables.

With huntsmen now looking at their scrolls for more details or huddling together to discuss the assignment, the Mistrallan official now sat down tiredly at the bar to nurse a glass of gin. Velvet cleared her throat anxiously to catch his attention.

Two sets of eyes, one set and tired, the other flecked by worry, locked onto her. Deep breaths Velvet, these people aren’t going to yell or laugh at you…

“Yes, Miss…?”

“Scarlatina,” she answered, shelving her worry. She was a huntress, damnit. “I was wondering if there was anything more you could tell me about Ruby?”

“Nothing much to say, unfortunately,” the official admitted. “We have only that footage to go off of. Huntsman Long took his drone with him into the fight, and our airships have limited range, to say nothing of the smoke covering up everything.”

The barkeep cut in, staring at Velvet. “You don’t think she was seriously hurt, do you?”

She belatedly realized that showing so much visible worry probably didn’t give the man much hope for Ruby’s wellbeing – she’d know better than he after all, being a huntress herself.

“I… no, I don’t think so,” she said, forcing her hands to relax. “But I can’t say for sure. That was a pretty bad hit and seeing her aura flicker like that isn’t good. If Ruby got away fast enough she’ll be fine.”

The man looked troubled.

Curiosity flared. Velvet had to ask. “Do you know her?”

“Ruby?” He seemed surprised. “‘Course. I swear, that girl is the only one who remembers my name sometimes. Probably helps that she never orders anything that’ll make her forget it, but still.” The man scowled. “’Sides, I served her uncle more times than I can count. Heard stories about her for years from him, before he dropped off the map.”

“Oh.” Velvet suddenly realized she had no idea what the man’s name was, despite frequenting the bar for several years. “I… uh. I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”

Was she supposed to ask his name now? She could write it down for the future – but didn’t that defeat the purpose of remembering it anyways, since she’d just be chea- no! She had a reason for coming over here!

“Right,” Velvet shook off the mental tangent and met the official’s grey eyes. “Is there anything being done to retrieve Ruby and the others, then?”

He nodded. “Search and Rescue mission. Class five, given how dangerous the Grimm is supposed to be. Almost got ranked higher, but you wouldn’t be asked to fight anyways, just get them out.”

His lips pursed. “To be honest, the Council doesn’t have high hopes for their survival unless they got away as quickly as possible. The mission is unclaimed though – there’s already an airship getting itself ready for departure in a few hours.”

Velvet nodded rapidly. “I – We, I need to go talk to my team about it real fast, just wait here.”

“Don’t worry about it, Vel.”

She twisted on the spot. Coco’s shades had slid down her nose, warm brown eyes crinkling sympathetically at her as the fashionista cocked her hip just slightly to the side. “You don’t really think we’d pass this up when it means so much to you, hm?”

She flushed. “I, well, thought you’d be excited to go on a mission to kill an Ancient, you know?” the faunus stammered.

Coco sniffed. “There’ll always be Ancients. Friends are a bit more important than that – and Ruby’s a friend, even if she hates going clothes shopping with us.”

“I’ll go get our stuff ready!” Fox called over, picking up on their intent. He was already jogging toward the door.

Yatsuhashi merely nodded to her from his seat, sending her an encouraging thumbs-up as an afterthought.

Velvet could feel her heart warm, filled to bursting with her gratitude. “Thanks Coco,” she said in a tiny voice. Her partner smirked.

“Anytime, Vel. But. You owe me another game of pool – a full game, so I can kick your cute little ass as thoroughly as it deserves.”

“I don’t suck that badly at pool!”

“I guess you’ll just have to proooove it~”

It was several minutes before their squabbling could come to an end – Coco efficiently moving through the mission sign-up provided by the official while deftly countering each and every protest Velvet made. When they finished, Yatsuhashi joining them in the process, they left quickly, Velvet’s smile just a bit wider around the edges after the barkeep waived their tab for the night.

It didn’t do much to assuage her nervousness and worry – and by the pallor he carried, the man felt the same – but it was a kindness.

Her eyes closed briefly as she pulled on her huntress’ garb, willing her thoughts to reach her friend.

‘We’re coming, Ruby.’

X_0_X

The village burned below her CORPSES littering the ground, battered, lifeless, bloody puddles EVERYWHERE. Fire, always hungry, raced through the crippled settlement, devouring everything in reach as creatures of GRIMM roamed freely through the village.

A twist of the hand. A finger on the trigger, pulling, letting gravity pull her to the ground as her now-bisected mount tumbled through the air. She landed on her feet, crushed stone rattling across the cobblestone, scythe held tightly in her hands.

EYES. Burning red eyes, all trained on her. The Grimm surged forward, Crescent Rose slashing slicing dicing Grimmflesh like it was nothing, THEY were nothing and deserved her fury for what they’d DONE here. With every kill she felt the fire burn brighter within her. She would AVENGE them all reap the soulless beings who had KILLED all these people and introduce HER own justice to this eternal conflict.

The village burned. It shook. A new foe appeared. Fire licked her as the Berengal threw her away. Eating at her. Her legs. She burned. Something was WRONG. Why did it hurt so much…? This hadn’t happened before the world was shaking whywasthisnothappeninglikeshereme-

“Huntress! Wake, please!”

Ruby surged awake with a gasp, body still aflame with the dream.

All was quiet save for the merrily crackling fire just a few feet away. For a brief moment she stared, looking back in time to see the shapes crumpled amongst the ashes. Faces twisted in a gruesome rictus. Darkness amidst the surging light, bright embers substituting for hateful eyes.

She shook her head thoroughly, grimacing as her leg pulsed angrily where the poison ate into her flesh.

“Miss Rose?”

Right. Her companion.

“Is something wrong?” she asked warily.

He certainly looked like something was wrong. Shoulders tense, arms held tightly to his sides, the pilot – Kohroku, he’d told her - exuded nervousness tangible enough that the hair on her arms prickled up instinctively.

“The howling. It has been growing louder and closer,” he said, a deep frown on his face.

Ruby sat up. Their flight from Horikiri had already been troubled enough by the Colossus, what with the vines erupting at random from the ground to attack them. While before they’d been a nuisance – tools used and thrown away to delay or distract her from the more important danger the Grimm itself posed – without her aura protecting her she was hard pressed to avoid having her legs snared and crushed by their powerful grip.

But worse were the lesser Grimm attracted to the negativity and destruction of such a large settlement. The Colossus might have claimed the lion’s share of victims, but Grimm were more than happy to pursue refugees at their most vulnerable.

They were hunters at heart but weren’t averse to scavenging their kills.

By the pitch she’d observed earlier, she was certain they’d picked up a pack of Beowolves. Normally she wouldn’t have been worried about such weak Grimm. Without her aura, however, fighting an entire pack was dangerous, almost tantamount to suicide.

The huntress closed her eyes, listening. Bright orange seeped through her eyelids from the fire. She didn’t let it distract her.

…

Ah.

There it was. Loud, piercing, and tinged with the fury unique to Grimm on the prowl. Kohroku was right, they were much closer now. And their numbers had swollen to several dozen, if the amount of replies the call received was anything to go by.

“You’re right,” she said finally, loosening her focus. “We’ll have to get moving in a few hours.”

“Not now?”

“No. Surprised?” Ruby smiled wanly. “They’re closer, but still miles off and not moving very fast right now. They’ll probably bed down for the night soon.”

“I see.”

He didn’t. The tension in his shoulders spoke louder than his words ever could. Something hung over him like a dark cloud, screening his true feelings from her. He sat in front of the fire to warm his hands, staring deep into the flames.

Too alert to sleep now, Ruby regarded the Mistrallan curiously. Now that they weren’t fighting or running for their lives through miles of wilderness, her bemusement from much earlier returned…

Nothing for it.

“Why are you here?” she asked bluntly.

“I… pardon?”

“The fight earlier. Why would you jump into it? You’re a pilot, not a huntsman,” she pointed out. “You might have aura, but you don’t have the training to use it in combat. Why join a fight like that?”

He shifted on the spot, pulling his knees up to his chest, khakis reflecting the flickering light and shadow. His expression twisted into something troubled.

That wouldn’t do. She scooted closer to grasp his shoulder, giving him a tight squeeze when he looked at her askance. Silver eyes glinted kindly. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, I’m just curious.”

He tried to shake her off, but it was halfhearted at best. “No, you deserve an answer. It’s just that… I hate – I…” Kohroku trailed off, eyes closing as he gathered his thoughts. Ruby’s smile dimmed, but she waited, lending him some strength through her touch.

Several minutes passed in silence, until it was broken.

“Horikiri was not the first town I have seen burn,” the pilot admitted finally. “Not even the second, nor the third… Sometimes I am bringing huntsmen to clean up the Grimm, sometimes I am finding a safe spot to land so that I can rescue survivors. It is always the same – tears or stoicism or anger, everything past the smoke is pain. When I saw you down there, and the others jumping down to help...”

Ruby felt a twinge in her stomach, her eyes squeezing shut as echoes of her dream played across her mind’s eye.

“I am not a councilor to make laws that protect people, or a doctor to cure people of their hurts and ills,” he continued, voice dipping low. “Nor a huntsman for others to look up to. I want to help people, but am I doing the most I can, just being an airship pilot?”

“You think you could be doing more.”

“Yes! I have my aura unlocked. Perhaps with more training I could even discover my semblance. I…” Kohroku sighed, and Ruby empathized with the tired look on his face. “I am tired of feeling useless in the face of suffering.”

The Beowolves howled again, backdrop to the nocturnal hum of the forest and the gentle crackling of the flames. Ruby let the moment hang, several minutes passing by as both immersed themselves deep in introspection.

Did she understand how Kohroku felt? In the cordoned section of her heart she kept under tight reign, lest it corrode her will to act, she did. Impotence was a huntress’ bane, the reason they trained their bodies and minds so rigorously every single day. Ruby hadn’t considered before how it must feel for the other people involved in their vocation; pilots like Kohroku, or the relief workers sent into villages to help them recover from failed raids, or any of the dozens of others tasked with keeping the Grimm at bay.

She was a huntress, always at the head of the action or, these days, working alone. She might talk to the people she worked beside; get to know them and develop a rapport, but none of those bonds had ever developed enough for her to hear of such personal demons, to look behind the curtain…

Time to change that.

“Twelve years ago, Beacon fell,” she said suddenly, startling her companion. “I was just a freshman then. The girl killed in the tournament was one of my best friends… Penny Polendina… When the real fighting started, so many of the people I knew, civilian and huntsman alike, were hurt or killed by Grimm or the White Fang or the Atlesian mechs rampaging through the city. I fought as hard as I could, but… a lot of the time, it wasn’t enough.”

Ruby scooped up a hand of the soft earth, appreciating the cool dampness as it crumbled through her fingers. “Later, my… partner… and I were searching for two of our friends who’d gone missing. We found one – Jaune – but he’d been separated from his partner. I ran ahead once we knew where she was, but I was too late. She died the moment after I found her, killed by the woman who orchestrated it all…”

“Huntress, I--”

“I never felt more helpless in my life than in that moment,” Ruby interrupted forcefully. “When I saw my team, they were crippled or shattered. My friends… they were dead, or grieving. My family was confused and scrambling for some way to help make everything better in the aftermath.”

She turned to look the pilot directly in the eyes, her own silver blazing brightly. “Those feelings didn’t go away.” The earth disappeared in her clenched fist. “But I kept fighting. Horikiri isn’t the first village I’ve seen destroyed either. It won’t be the last time I’m too slow to save the day.”

“You’ve done great things though!” Kohroku protested. “You’ve saved hundreds of people, killed countless Grimm! You’re the Reaper, scourge of Mistral’s bandit tribes – one of the greatest huntresses alive!”

“Being the Reaper didn’t help anyone in that village,” Ruby rebuffed. “But that’s not my point. I’ve failed a lot, in my life. Too slow, too weak, too tired, or too late.”

She jabbed a finger into his chest. He jerked backwards. “That doesn’t make the people I did save worthless. You think you can do more to help people? Fine. We can always do better. But the work you’ve done up to this point hasn’t been wasted; I’m sure there are dozens of people grateful that you were there for them in their time of need… You should be proud of that.”

A long moment passed as she glared into his shocked, steel-grey eyes. Ruby saw something click as her message got through to him. His expression softened in understanding, a tiny smile quirking his lips upwards.

“I see your meaning,” the pilot said reflectively. “Pilot or huntsman, we all face failure. I am a fool for thinking my work useless or inadequate for not achieving perfection.”

Ruby smiled. “Spoken like a true Mistrallan.”

He chuckled. “Indeed.”

Her fists loosened, earth dropping to the ground. She wiped her hand against her leg, scooting away to give him his space. Glancing up, she saw that the moon was still high in the sky. “You should get some sleep,” she said kindly.

“It is still my watch, Huntress.”

She shook her head. “I’m not tired right now. Might as well let you rest.”

She was tired, actually. Exhausted. But she doubted she’d find any sleep tonight.

“You are sure?” Though concerned for her, she could see his eyes flitting toward the makeshift bedroll they’d made for him.

She waved him off with a smile, tucking her chin up on her knee. The pilot was quick to tuck himself underneath the covers, his breathing slowing into the regular cadence of slumber mere minutes after.

Alone at last, Ruby sighed.

She hadn’t lied to the man. Every life was worth it – she’d never be able to go on as a huntress if she didn’t truly believe so. Their work benefited countless people, giving them the opportunity to live and find their own happiness. But…

Within the flames, hidden amidst the coals and embers, eyes bright and accusing stared back at her, and she couldn’t help but doubt.

X_0_X

Sun’s anxiety was starting to rub off on him.

“—knew things would go wrong when she took that mission…”

Scarlet David shot a sideways glance toward his partner Sage. They’d just ushered out the representative from the Mistral council, silently expressing their gratitude while Sun ranted in the background.

“—should have said something…!”

They’d returned to the kitchen amidst the clamor, Sun’s voice cracking like it hadn’t since their years at Haven. Scarlet eyed the stain on the far wall with trepidation, ceramic shards littering the floor: the remains of a mug of cocoa Scarlet brewed for Sun while the official delivered his message. At the table, Sage scowled into his cereal, deep in thought while they processed the news.

At least, Scarlet would be processing the news if he didn’t have to listen to the increasingly-loud, increasingly-hysterical dulcet tones of their team leader.

His partner’s fingers clenched around his spoon, unnatural strength gifted to him by his semblance beginning to warp the weak metal. If Scarlet didn’t intercede soon then more things were going to break and this time, he’d need more than a broom and dustpan to clean it all up…

“Sun,” Scarlet cut in finally, grimacing as bloodshot eyes snapped toward him. Sun’s posture screamed Hostile in a way he was deeply uncomfortable with seeing directed his way. Suddenly putting an end to his tirade seemed much more daunting. “I…”

No, idiot! Don’t lose it now! His hands wrung underneath the table. “Ruby’s going to be okay. You know that, right?”

Scarlet berated himself. Stupid! ‘What kind of weak comfort was that?!’

“No, I don’t, and you… don’t know either, Scarlet,” Sun snapped. The blonde swayed on the spot, hand rising to his temple briefly. Scarlet’s lips thinned. Sun hadn’t been sleeping well for days, even after Ruby forced him to lay down. “You… and me, we don’t know shit right now, we…” Sun’s face twisted, his eyes widening slightly. Scarlet could read the signs of vertigo as easily as if they were emblazoned in neon.

Scarlet was out of his seat instantly, slinging an arm around Sun’s torso as his legs failed him. Scarlet lowered his teammate to the floor slowly, allowing the blonde’s forehead to rest on his shoulder.

The faunus was still muttering to himself as Scarlet eased him into a seated position, back to the wall with his head between his knees. Scarlet was all business; checking his pulse, temperature, and anything else he could think of. Sage joined him, holding Sun’s shoulder steady. The spoon he’d been using was a twisted mess in his other, clenched, fist.

“…can’t…” Sun muttered faintly.

Sage growled angrily. “He needs sleep.”

“I know, Sage.”

“Well why can’t he fucking do it then! He’s been laying down for hours!”

Scarlet frowned at his partner, shoving down the same thoughts brewing in the back of his mind guiltily. “He’s got a condition Sage. It’s not his fault.”

“I know! I just…” the spoon clattered on the wood flooring. Sage ran his hand through his hair, expression tight with frustration. “Dust, Scarlet, he’s killing himself like this.”

Sun continued to mumble, eyes focused on nothing. Scarlet watched his leader sorrowfully, wishing he could do more. He didn’t have any answers for Sage; his partner spoke to their shared fears.

What if Sun died? What would they do? Losing Neptune nearly destroyed them all, and Scarlet knew that losing Sun would be even worse. Every time they went out on assignments it lingered in the back of his mind: would this be the moment Sun made a fatal mistake? Would all that missed sleep finally do him in?

All it took was a moment of inattention. A moment of dull reflexes. He and Sage couldn’t be there all the time, watching his back. Their work didn’t allow it.

Worse, he had no answers for Sun either. Not until Ruby got back alive and well. The alternative…

He didn’t like thinking about that.

“Look,” Scarlet breathed out through his nose. “Sun’s not going to get anything done like this. If you bring him to his room, we can have him take a few of those pills the doctor gave him. I’ll go over to Ruby’s place and get it ready for her to come back so he doesn’t freak out.”

“You know he hates those things.”

Don’t remind him. “They fuck him up, and he won’t be able to go on assignments for a few days after, but he’s going to hurt himself or start really messing with his body if we don’t do something,” Scarlet countered. “I’ll take the heat if he blows up about it later.”

The dark-haired man considered it, a fearsome scowl contorting his features, before he gave in with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll keep an eye on him and make sure he stays put.” Sage lifted Sun into a bridal carry, adjusting the weight with a grunt. “When you’re done, can you give the doctor a call and give him an update?”

“Done.” Scarlet got to his feet, already going over a short list in his head of what he’d need to do at Ruby’s before returning home. Before Sage left with him, he gave Sun’s wrist a quick squeeze, which went completely ignored as the faunus continued muttering to himself.

It was dark outside when Scarlet stepped out of the house, the moon and its many satellites glowing silver-white against the void. He shivered, tucking his hands deep into his pockets against the cold, wondering if Ruby was stuck out in the wild in the middle of this kind of weather.

He wasn’t close with the little reaper – not like Sun was – but she made a point of befriending everyone she could, and he’d been among the first she’d sought out in Mistral when she immigrated from the newly-recovered city of Vale. Friends of Sun were friends of hers, she’d said.

He and Sage had shared bemusement that such a tiny, tired-looking slip of a girl could be the charismatic leader Sun had described her as… until they challenged her to a fight and got their asses handed to them on a silver platter.

Scarlet now had a healthy respect for that murder-scythe she had – unironically – nicknamed ‘Sweetheart.’ Sage even had a faint scar across his back from his short-lived duel with the girl, where she’d cloven through his aura after wearing him down with her – frankly unfair – speed and avoidance tactics.

A loss was a loss, however, and both he and Sage had quickly gotten over their disappointment once they realized just how sweet a person Ruby was. She was kind, too. Confident. Friendly. Sociable… and just like his leader, damaged.

He saw it in the little slips she made; the flash of naked emotion when she heard the wrong music, the topics they’d learned to avoid bringing up, the late nights she and Sun would share together, just talking or texting, when sleep was elusive… Scarlet knew what it was like to lose a teammate. He could relate to her loss and admired her tenacity and will to move forward… it was inspiring to see in person.

But she was damaged in a way he couldn’t help. Just like Sun.

As he unlocked the door to her home, using the key he’d borrowed from Sun’s ring (itself foisted on him by the energetic reaper), Scarlet could only hope he wasn’t cleaning up for someone who would never arrive.

X_0_X

In the grey pre-dawn light, they cleared up their makeshift camp in record time.

Ruby’s eyes burned with fatigue as she crammed her bedroll into her pack, rolling it over her shoulders and tightening down the straps. Nearby, Kohroku fiddled with his dirtied uniform, eyes bright and alert. He’d snapped awake the moment she’d touched his shoulder, sunrise only minutes away.

They’d scarfed down a cold breakfast; jerky and dried fruit with a few precious mouthfuls of water to sate their appetites. Her leg complained all the while, the bandages probably needing to be changed, but there was no time.

She gave the distress beacon, retrieved from Kohroku’s survival kit the night before, one more examination to make sure it was still working. Check.

Map. Pouches. Crescent Rose. Heron. Pocket-knife. Canteen. All check.

“Let’s go,” Ruby said brusquely, just before the sky lit up with the sun’s arrival.

They froze momentarily, adjusting to the change in the light. Then, howls split the air, far too close. Ruby had hoped to put a few miles distance between them and the Grimm before they’d awaken, but she’d let the pilot sleep too long.

If they died for her mistake…

“Huntress?”

“I said let’s go!” she barked, ignoring her trepidation and breaking into a measured jog. Kohroku joined her, matching her pace easily with experience born of military training. It was a pace designed to eat up the miles with a minimum of rest. On her injured leg, Ruby knew it wasn’t sustainable in the long term, but they needed to put some distance between themselves and the Grimm before their trail was discovered.

Kohroku’s measured breathing soon synched up with her own as they moved steadily north, feet crunching through the undergrowth. He trusted her to guide them to safety. Even with something as innocuous as setting their pace. Trusted her measure of her own capabilities, and her estimation of his.

Her resolve hardened.

She wouldn’t fail that trust. They would live. She would make sure of it.

X_0_X

“Everyone’s got their weapons ready? Coco, you’ve got enough ammo?”

“Locked and loaded, Vel.”

“Fox, you’ve got all the medical supplies prepped?”

“All set!”

“Yatsu—”

“I am physically and mentally prepared for this endeavor, Velvet,” Yatsuhashi smiled, serene and towering with his curved buster sword resting on his shoulder. The giant hardly looked bothered by the weight.

Their airship shuddered again, their haste pushing it to the very limits of its capabilities. Velvet ignored it, all her focus on her team. “And I’m all set…” she muttered to herself, fingering the short sword at her waist – a compromise she’d made with Coco after an especially prolonged battle that saw her run out of pictures to fuel Anesidora.

Coco reached around Fox to pat her on the shoulder. “Hey now,” the brunette soothed, her tone at odds with the cocky smirk adorning her lips. “We’re almost there. Ruby’s going to be fine and you’ll see that you had nothing to worry about.”

“I know…” Her long, brown ears flattened over her skull, twitching in response to her nervousness. She never could control the damn things…

“Undue stress may inhibit your performance, Velvet,” Yatsuhashi counselled. “Relax and marshal your energies for when you must act.”

That didn’t help her feel better at all. “…Okay?”

“Just focus on breathing.”

Better. Velvet immersed herself in the exercises her team had walked her through since their days at Beacon, the better to handle her anxiety. In. Out.

Turbulence rattled the ship again. This time, something behind them groaned, then fizzled, then going dead silent. This of course set off an alarm that grated on her ears and completely destroyed Velvet’s concentration.

Fox coughed. “Think that was important?”

“Pilot?” Velvet called, partly annoyed, partly relieved for the distraction.

“It’s nothing worth troubling yourselves over,” the pilot responded over the intercom, professionally calm. “Ship’s not made to go this fast for so long, she’s starting to feel the strain. We’ll get her looked at once we’re back in Mistral.”

The alarm continued to blare.

“Er, we’ll turn that off for you.”

The sound died. Velvet and Fox exchanged bemused looks, and the redhead shrugged. If they were okay with it…?

“How far to go before we start our search?” Coco called up to the cockpit.

“We’re picking up on Grimm signatures a few klicks south of here. You might want to get ready to go in case they’re after your target.”

They each straightened, hands going to weapons and supplies in one last check. Velvet felt her heartrate begin to rise, her breathing hastening to match the adrenaline entering her bloodstream. This was it. More than any average assignment, this mission had serious consequences.

Do or die. Or, do or Ruby dies…

“Alright CFVY,” Coco barked. Velvet flinched, breaking out of her thoughts. She looked at the brunette, at her leader, for direction. “We’re on a time limit for this one, and we don’t know the countdown. Our job is to extract Ruby and whoever else she’s with and get out. If they’re split up, we’ll track down whoever’s missing. Nothing more, and nothing less – we’re not here to get bogged down fighting Grimm if we can help it.”

They nodded seriously, Fox and Yatsuhashi with expressions hard as stone. Velvet drew strength from them, letting their resolve fill her. They had their mission. She could do this. They could do this.

“Velvet, you and Fox take point. Yatsuhashi and I will draw the pack’s attention and hold them off while you secure the targets and get them to safety.”

“Aye aye!”

“Got it Coco.”

“Grimm signatures confirmed,” the pilot spoke over the intercom. “A large Beowolf pack is massing to the south. They’re converging on a smaller signature – Mistral standard distress beacon. That’ll be our missing pilot. Fifteen seconds to the drop zone.”

Velvet stood, drawing her short sword in one hand and taking hold of one of the overhead handles with the other. Her team lined up beside her as the door slid open mechanically, freezing wind filling the fuselage and scattering Velvet’s hair.

Should have tied it back…

With her enhanced hearing she could hear the faint pounding footfalls of dozens of Grimm below, as well as the punctuating sound of gunshots. One, low powered and quiet, the other the loud and distinctive ‘crack!’ of a rifle.

Ruby… Thank Dust.

“You’re above the drop zone now. Good luck huntsmen.”

Velvet steeled herself and leapt.

X_0_X

Two hours.

A part of Ruby felt proud of how long they’d kept ahead of the pack, given their late start and the odds stacked against them. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, she’d disregarded the pain flaring in her leg completely (as well as the twinging she felt in the other) and pressed onwards, Kohroku right beside her as they trekked northward.

It wasn’t to last, however. The first Grimm finally overcame their position an hour prior, and they’d been just barely keeping ahead of the teeth nipping at their heels since. When they needed a moment to rest, they would sprint forward, Ruby pressing into her semblance to give them the extra distance they needed. That would give them maybe a minute to breathe and take a drink before they were forced to start moving once more.

The bulk of the pack was further behind them, the massing Grimm much slower to traverse the dense woodland than the two humans. The fastest Grimm quickly died, bisected by Crescent Rose with nary more than a whimper.

She was fairly certain survival of the fittest wasn’t supposed to work that way, but she’d never been the most attentive student in biology.

Unfortunately, their numbers continued to grow. Ruby could feel the fatigue spreading through her limbs like poison. She’d been forced to relax the efficient march already, and each brief skirmish with the encroaching Beowolves sapped her of aura and stamina.

Kohroku panted as they came to another rest. Ruby pressed her forehead into a nearby tree trunk, relishing in the cool, smooth bark.

“We can’t maintain this pace, Huntress,” the pilot croaked, taking a quick swig from his canteen.

“I know,” Ruby replied tiredly. “We’ve just got to hold on until your beacon gets someone’s attention. We’re bound to get lucky soon.”

She believed those words. She did. Mistral was an efficient kingdom – and it had learned its lesson after the massacre of its huntsmen population a decade prior. It wouldn’t leave them to die. They just had to keep moving.

Ruby breathed deeply. “Alright, break time’s over. We’ve got to move.”

“Right.”

The man replaced his canteen on his belt, but Ruby’s eyes were drawn to the side, where hateful orbs glared from the thick foliage. They locked, silver and crimson, and several things happened at once.

Crescent Rose unfolded in a glory of sliding metal, not even completing its transformation before she swung upwards to intercept the pouncing Grimm. Ruby’s senses screamed at her to turn however – it was an ambush; they’d been encircled at some point, some of the faster Grimm of the pack swinging wide to overtake them and intercept their path ahead of the rest. Simple, but terribly clever, and terribly deadly for the two.

Meanwhile, off in the distance, Ruby picked up the faint, familiar sound of an approaching airship. She didn’t have the time to consider this, however. She poured her aura into her attack – into Crescent Rose specifically – praying it would be fast enough to catch the other two Beowolves behind her before they slammed into her and her companion.

The first died easily; impaled through the throat by her reactionary swing. The second died on the follow-through, its paltrily-armored chest ripped open by the murderous blade. She was too slow to stop the third, however.

Kohroku cried out as the beast crashed into him in a flash of shattering aura, one hand shielding his face and the other firing his tiny pistol into the Beowolf’s guts. Ruby finished the beast right as he hit the ground, Crescent Rose’s mournful song punctured by the sound of snapping bone and the pilot’s pained gasp.

The Beowolf dissolved immediately, revealing the pilot cradling his misshapen leg with a bloody arm. Ruby knelt beside him immediately. “Shit,” she muttered angrily, examining the injury.

Luckily the break was clean and hadn’t broken skin, while his arm was only scratched up and not seriously damaged. Unluckily, the injury was still easily bad enough to prevent him from walking any distance on his own.

Ruby stared at the broken limb for several seconds, ever mindful of the quickly diminishing gap between them and the pack…

She couldn’t carry him.

They’d last a minute if she did – if she used her semblance, at least. But she would be too slow otherwise and they’d be overtaken easily. And should she tap the last dregs of her aura she’d be totally drained from the effort, in no shape to defend them.

“Okay. Okay,” she muttered, forcing her mind into high-gear. Running was no longer an option. Her reserves were perilously low, both of body and soul. Fighting was looking like a worse option by the moment… They were only Beowolves though, she could make a stand and try to – she could buy time for the airship to circle back around and drop the huntsmen, she could probably manage that much… Probably. They had the numbers to overwhelm her – but if they played with their food then she had a chance.

“Huntress.”

“You’re going to be alright Kohroku,” she said stubbornly, a plan quickly taking shape in her head. Hopefully the Alpha of the pack – there had to be one, Beowolves weren’t smart enough to strategize on their own, and that ambush, while simple, was evidence enough – hopefully it would hang back while its underlings tested her…

“Ruby, you must run.”

What?

“What?” she hissed. “No, I’m not abandoning you! I can hold them off until the huntsmen arrive.”

The pilot cringed as he sat up straight. “No, that’s not what I meant,” he grunted and shook his head, frustrated. “You are exhausted – if the pack comes up on us then you will die; they will swarm you and there will be nothing you can do about it. Hide me and run – draw their attention, buy time until the huntsmen can deal with the pack.”

Ruby stared at him.

Kohroku glared. “Hurry! Unless you have a better idea?”

…She didn’t. Ruby cursed internally that she hadn’t thought of it herself. While she loathed the idea of leaving the pilot behind, his plan was sound, and more likely to succeed than playing on the arrogance of the Grimm.

But he would be alone. Injured. The pistol he carried was hardly enough to protect him should one Beowolf come across him, much less dozens, or the whole pack…

Dust damnit…! Why could nothing go right for once?

Fuming and frustrated, Ruby slung his arm over her shoulder, half-carrying the heavy Mistrallan to a nearby tree deeply set into a nearby hillock. There were plenty of spaces amongst the roots that would fit the pilot; Ruby chose one hidden behind the densest foliage, hoping the camouflage would be enough. The limited cover it offered would buy him time before the Grimm doubled back to scent him out.

Letting him sink into the recess, Ruby shuddered, picturing Kohroku’s face alongside the villagers, Bai and Bryce…

No.

He would survive. She would distract the Grimm and he would be rescued. For good measure, Ruby handed him the beacon, knowing that the others would be able to find her by following the Grimm.

“I’ll be back,” she promised, pausing before she left.

“Be safe, Huntress,” the pilot said solemnly, sagging against the trunk.

Ruby smiled shakily at him, feeling exhaustion tugging at her limbs. “I will.”

The pilot nodded, gripping his pistol with white knuckles, his other hand inside the small pack of rounds at his waist. Nothing that would stop a determined Grimm for long, but perhaps enough to buy a few seconds for the rescue team to arrive.

Without another word, Ruby took off from the hideaway. Pointing Crescent Rose in the air, she squeezed the trigger twice, feeling the familiar jolt along its haft as the dust rounds screamed into the sky.

Howling and bestial snarls filled the air – too close! - and Ruby felt the attention turn towards her. Distraction achieved. Dark shapes pounded through the forest like a massive, malevolent wave just behind her.

Folding Crescent Rose up to stow at her waist, Ruby poured what residual aura she had left into her semblance, warping the air around her in her desperate bid to put as much distance between herself and Kohroku as possible. Pain shot up her legs within seconds, pooling in the desiccating flesh, bruises and cuts she’d sustained over the last day. The blackened flesh of her ankle seared so badly that her entire leg threatened to give out with every step.

The Grimm howled. The heavy pounding of their feet behind her felt far too close. She poured on the speed, fighting back the agony.

Automatic fire rang out in the forest behind her, a few dozen yards from Kohroku’s hiding place. Huntsmen. They would find Kohroku and get him to safety. Her own trail would be easy to find. Just follow the Grimm.

Branches snapped behind her. Ruby felt her semblance shudder. Without warning, the last of her aura withered away, reserves totally exhausted, and she stumbled as a new wave of soul-deep fatigue washed over her. Her cloak fluttered in the weak breeze she’d created, spilling out a stream of rose petals around her.

Dive.

Muted pain bloomed in her shoulder, jolting through the rest of her body as she rolled by sheer instinct. The massive, shadowy bulk of a leaping Beowulf sailed over her just as she came up to her feet.

Turn. Slash.

Crescent Rose unfolded with a metallic ‘schink,’ its menacing song splitting the air as she swung it around.

The two halves of the now-neatly bisected Beowolf crumpled to the ground, though Ruby spared them no mind, bringing Crescent Rose back around in a wide arc. The Grimm pursuing her skidded to a halt to avoid the wicked blade, fanning out to encircle her.

Her weapon gleamed eagerly in the low light. The simple sight of the blade comforted her. Resetting her grip on the snath and taking in the circle of foes, Ruby took a few calming breaths. She met the eyes of the largest Grimm in the pack – a Beowolf larger than its fellows and covered in lean muscle, sporting the dull, boney armor all its kind were known for.

It bore several scars along its body; results of territorial fighting with other Grimm, and a few distinctive signs of huntsmen weaponry. This was the Alpha, then. Older, stronger, and more cunning than the younger Grimm surrounding her.

The pack awaited their Alpha’s command. The gunshots – now accompanied by the sound of blades parting flesh and bone – were drawing near.

The Alpha snarled, and Ruby tensed her body in anticipation.

Whirl. Slice up, across the body. Down. Right. Follow through. Reverse, and leap!

Several Beowolves died, their foul, reeking blood watering the earth.

Instincts drilled into her by Beacon’s training and years of professional experience reigned over her body in full force. Ruby relished in the experience of simply surrendering to them, exhaustion for now forgotten - of giving over to the pulse in her veins and the whirling, energetic dance she and Crescent Rose performed as their foes streamed toward them.

Left. Back. Right. Follow through. Sweep. BACK.

The Alpha leapt at Ruby, interrupting her rhythm. Every instinct in her screamed to get away as the beast crashed into where she’d been mere moments ago. It snarled, furious as it swatted at the fluttering rose petals she left in her wake, her cloak fluttering to a halt behind her.

The Alpha charged her position again Dive and Ruby slammed the transformation switch on Crescent Rose as she came up on one knee, already taking aim at its flank.

The forest trembled as the Alpha growled low in its throat, shrugging off the dust rounds that would have staggered a lesser Grimm and leaping at her again.

Dive. LEFT!

“Argh!”

Ruby howled as the Alpha’s paw slammed into her ribcage, having anticipated her movements. The small amount of aura she’d regenerated prevented it from crushing her entirely, but she felt the harsh fire of wicked-sharp claws gouging new lines into her side, and the deep pulsing throb of bruised ribs.

The blow sent her reeling on the ground, Crescent Rose clattering to the ground nearby.

GET UP MOVE DO SOMETHING THOSE WHO FALL IN COMBAT DIE.

Her head came up blearily as her senses flared intensely. She could sense the Alpha in her peripheral vision as it turned around for another charge. Could hear the triumphant howls of its pack in the background.

More howls and snarling further away, near the gunshots.

MOVE, RUBY!

Her eyes settled on Crescent Rose, alone on the ground. Her arms reached out, fingers brushing the snath, wrapping around its cool, comforting touch.

DON’T LOOK AWAY FROM IT, YOU DOLT!

Painfully slowly, she pulled Crescent Rose back to her, both hands gripping it with white-knuckled fervor. Silver eyes met malevolent crimson as the Alpha barreled toward her. Time became a crawl, and the whole world dropped away. Just the Hunter and its Prey. Everything diminished to shades of grey, save the burning orbs locked on her own.

Thump.

Slavering jaws closed around Crescent Rose, jolting her entire body backwards as the Alpha’s momentum carried them across the clearing. She held her arms ramrod-straight against it, holding the monstrous beast back from closing its fearsome jaws around her head and ending the fight.

Thump.

Her back slammed into the solid bulk of a tree. Ruby whimpered as pain shot through her entire body, arms bending under the concentrated force.

Thump.

Her heartbeat throbbed in her ears as her body strained against the Alpha. Three hundred pounds of dense muscle and inhuman fury bore down on her.

Thump.

Ruby gritted her teeth, every muscle in her body on fire.

Thump.

‘I’m going to die.’

Thump.

Her eyes widened, tears pooling over the silver lakes that had drawn her into this life. Her arms burned.

Thump.

‘Please no! Not like this! Not after everything!’

Thump.

Crescent Rose descended. Ruby could feel the Grimm’s humid, disgusting breath on her face as it overpowered her.

Thump.

‘Be strong, Ruby.’

Thump.

‘I’m sorry, Mom. I’m not strong enough this time…’

Just as her arms were about to give out, a gunshot rang through the clearing with startling sharpness. The weight on Ruby’s arms disappeared and Crescent Rose clattered into her lap as the Alpha staggered away from her with a pained yelp, the soft tendons behind one of its’ kneecaps pulped by the shot, to meet the new combatants.

Ruby stared at her hands, imprinted ugly red and white from Crescent Rose pressing into them. Without the Alpha dominating her senses it felt like the entire world had fallen away.

Thump.

The fighting seemed to grow distant, though a new sound replaced it. Steady footsteps, heavy and muffled against the ground. Ruby looked up and saw another Beowolf, smaller, younger, weaker, and no longer held back by the command of its Alpha.

The two locked eyes, icy despair rolling down Ruby’s spine as it snarled and lunged at her.

Up.

Crescent Rose whipped upwards, but too slow. Exhausted by the struggle with the Alpha, Ruby could only watch in impotent horror as the Beowolf ducked underneath the sloppy strike and closed its jaws around her forearm.

Thump.

Agony shot up past her shoulder, bone crunching beneath the razor-sharp teeth digging into corded muscle with all of the force of a bear trap. Ruby screamed and tried to pull her arm back from the Grimm, only to feel her voice die out into a whimper as the action tore flesh from bone.

Thu-ump.

Pleased with its success, the Beowolf released her arm and backed up a step, before darting forward to bat an oversized paw against Ruby’s head. The blow knocked her senseless, and she slumped limply against the tree, letting the Grimm inspect its prize.

Thump.

Pain. Dull spots of black and white danced across Ruby’s vision. Her head throbbed in time to her heartbeat, so loud in her ears. Dazed, deathly afraid, and lacking any other options to protect herself, Ruby drew her knees up to her chest and cradled her mangled arm against herself, ignoring the hot, sticky blood fitfully spurting and desperately trying to block out the pain signals everything was sending to her brain.

Distant crashes, pops, splintered wood and horrid cracks. All was nothing to the throb of her pounding pulse in her ears.

Thump.

Seconds passed.

Thump.

…

Thump.

Why wasn’t she dead yet?

Ruby cracked open her eyes weakly, before slamming them shut with a whimper. Everything hurt, and even the soft, filtered of midmorning was more than enough to set her head throbbing.

Thump.

She could hear something, just barely, over the pounding of her heart. Distant and indistinct. Something soft touched her shoulder and she cringed, expecting death at any moment.

“-by? Ruby!”

The touch on her shoulder tightened, another similar feeling appearing on the other shoulder. Hands. They shook Ruby, jostling her arm and her head. She whimpered pitifully, willing the presence away.

Thump.

“Velvet, stop! You’re going to hurt her more.”

“Oh Dust, Ruby, I’m so sorry! Fox, can you go get Yatsu over here with one of those stretchers? She needs medical attention ASAP.”

“On it. Keep an ear out though, no telling whether that pack will be back or not.”

Ruby felt her heartbeat recede as her other senses returned. The hands on her shoulder disappeared, as well as the nauseating shaking. Her whole head rang, her chest tight like a drum, the pulsating echo against it a memory of the pounding throb it had been mere seconds ago.

“You’re gonna be alright, Ruby. We’ve got you now. You’re going to be alright.”

Were she in a better state, Ruby might have been concerned by how watery the voice sounded. But as it was, it was all she could do to merely keep a hold on consciousness. She distantly heard the sound of fabric ripping. She didn’t question it until gentle hands pulled her mangled arm away from her chest and swiftly wrapped it up in something soft.

Ruby’s vision flashed red as the hands roughly tightened the makeshift bandage, bone grinding together and blood continuing to gush hot and sticky. Her ears rang, and it wasn’t until she heard the voice again soothing her again that she realized that her throat was now raw from her screaming.

The huntress withdrew in on herself, ignoring the voice. The pain. A trickle of blood ran down her cheek from her temple, warm on her clammy skin.

“Hey! You’ve got her?”

“Over here Yatsu, quickly!”

Ruby heard heavy footsteps approaching her, her heart clenching in momentary panic as memories of the Beowolves sprung to mind.

“Dust… Velvet, what happened to her?”

“She was savaged by a Beowolf… We thought she would be safe while we dealt with the Alpha, but one of the smaller ones got to her while we were distracted.”

“Help me get her on the stretcher.”

Large, calloused hands slipped below her armpits, brushing against her bruised ribs. Smaller hands – the ones she’d felt earlier, appeared below her knees to ease her into a lying position. Ruby endured the motion with grit teeth, every ounce of fortitude she possessed dedicated to not vomiting from the sudden vertigo rushing through her.

She felt a brief surge of weightlessness, before her back met something soft. The touches disappeared, and her nausea receded. For a moment she languished, everything was growing numb and grey. Ruby cracked her eyes open to look at her rescuers, and through her pain felt a deep sense of relief upon seeing them.

“You’re going to be alright, Ruby,” Velvet whispered to her as she picked up her end of the stretcher. Her warm, brown eyes were wet with unshed tears as she looked down on the cloaked huntress. Yatsuhashi led the way back to the Bullhead in silence.

Ruby wanted to ask so many questions, each flying around her spinning mind like pinballs, but settled on the simplest. “Velvet?” she rasped.

The faunus smiled weakly down at her. “Yeah, it’s me, Ruby.”

“What’re you doing here?”

“Rescuing you, silly. What do you think?” Velvet teased gently.

“I… oh. That’s good… Is Kohroku… is he alright? You found him, right?” Why was it so hard to think?

Velvet frowned. Ruby didn’t see it, her eyes were scrunched shut again against her headache… it felt as though the Beowolf was there again, kicking her skull like a perverse football. “The pilot?” the faunus asked. “Fox will have him on the airship by now, I think. We lost a minute getting to you just pulling the pack’s attention away from him. He’s a little roughed up, but he should recover.”

Ruby gritted her teeth. “T-that’s good.”

She opened her eyes again, but that was a mistake. Her vision swam sickeningly, red and grey and pulsing in time with her headache. “Velvet,” she gasped.

“We’re almost there Ruby, just hold on.” The words came out pained.

“W-why does it hurt so much?”

She wanted to curl up into a ball, but her body would not obey her. Blood already seeped out of the makeshift bandage around her arm. Ruby could feel it, hot and sticky on her stomach, smelling like old coins to her fading senses.

“I’m so s—Fox!” Ruby whimpered at the yell. “Get over here! Ruby needs medical attention, now!”

What followed quickly turned into a blur as her rescuers burst into a jog. Ruby distantly noticed when they came to a stop; she was lowered to the ground and gentle hands marked with callouses moved all over her body, testing bones and bruises and moving her arm away from her chest…!

“Sorry Ruby,” the owner of the hands – Fox – muttered after she’d stopped screaming, her abused vocal cords finally failing her.

“Is she going to be alright?”

“Don’t worry about her, hun. Fox here will take care of Ruby – you just sit tight and don’t move that leg.”

“Her legs are going to need some attention,” a deep voice commented quietly.

“One thing at a time, Yatsu. She’s going to bleed out if I don’t work on her arm first.”

She was feeling kind of cold… Ruby felt something tight wrapping around her arm – her muddled thoughts reached for the term – tourn…? – but it slipped away before she could properly grasp it.

“Alright Ruby, I’m really sorry but there’s no way around it. I need to properly check out your arm and set the bones before I can do an aura transfer.” Ruby didn’t like the sound of that. “Velvet, have her bite down on this.”

A thick strip of… something. Leather? Was pressed between Ruby’s teeth. What was…?

“Alright Ruby, on three I’m going to remove the bandage.”

Oh no.

“One.”

This was going to suck, deep breaths, deep breaths.

“Two.” Fox deftly removed the wrapping and Ruby’s vision throbbed red and black. She groaned piteously into the gag. What had happened to three?!

“Three.”

Oh, there it waaaaaa—PainpainPAIN erupted in Ruby’s ARM and she was screaming into the leather teeth GRINDING down ohDUSTmakeitstop and HER world went black.

X_0_X

I had a lot of fun writing this chapter - some of my favorite things I've ever written are in here, actually - so I hope you all enjoyed.

One thing I'd like to make a note about early on is that this story takes place in a dubious continuation of the canon. I decided early on to make the executive decision to make V5's finale the hard cutoff between Canon and The Last Rose. Before that point, the closer things get to the end of V5 the murkier things get - I had different priorities in writing this than Canon RWBY had in their narrative, so things like the Relics and Salem will take a backseat to the Grimm and the fallout of the Fall of Vale in this story, if they get mentioned at all.

I wanted to write a story about Huntsman, about Grimm, about the fallout from the Fall of Vale, and about Ruby as a character. I'm not one of those people who feel like she's had zero development in canon, but I did want to explore her character more myself. Where those goals conflicted with the canon, I defenestrated the canon with a smile.

Please leave a review! Would love to hear some feedback on this story.

#TheLastRose #Valasania the Pale #My stories #RWBY #Ruby Rose #CFVY #Chapter Three #Please reblog #Last chapter got literally zero response #If the same happens here I probably won't bother to continue posting to tumblr

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eyes-of-fanfiction-green · 5 years

Text

Shutting Down Part 2

Dean x Reader

!!!!!!!PART 1 here !!!!!!!!!

!!!!!! PART3 here !!!!!!

!!!!!! PART 4 here !!!!!

!!!!! PART 5 here !!!!!

Summary: after a fight with the reader, Dean went out and got drunk, waking up in another girl’s bed. Now that the reader left, both of them have to deal with the aftermath of the situation.

Warnings: Depression, self-hatred, LOTS OF ANGST

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long to add. I hope you guys like it. Also, I’m so sorry this is a long post, I use the mobile app for tumblr and I can’t figure out how to do the “read more” thing. If anyone knows how to do that for mobile, please let me know!! Also, THERE WILL BE A PART THREE!!

Two months after leaving, you were brought out of your research-induced daze with two sharp knocks to your door.

Silently you got up out of you seat, hand going to your gun. Slowly opening the door revealed a very tired Sam who’s expression instantly turned to relief.

“[Y/N].”

You just stared blankly at the tall giant. There was no emotion on your face or any sign of acknowledgement.

“[Y/N] I’ve been looking for you for months! It’s so good to see you!” Sam pulled you into a tight hug.

After a moment he pulled back, quickly noticing your lack of response. At all. Nothing. You hadn’t even spoken.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

Blink.

“Can- can I come in?”

Blink.

You shifted to the side of the door, allowing a space for Sam to enter. He took the cue and slipped inside.

“So...” Sam looked around the small room. Noting how uncommonly clean it was. Like you hadn’t been living there for the past week. “How have you been lately?”

You closed the door and turned to face Sam. His eyes widened as he finally got a good look at you. Your eyes were red and sunken in, your face gaunt and thin. You skin was uncommonly pale and your clothes hung unnaturally loose off your body. But it was the haunted look in your previously gleaming eyes that scared Sam the most.

“[Y/N], when was the last time you slept...or ate? What’s going on with you?” He looked you up and down as he took a step closer to you. “Is- is this because of Dean?”

You visibly flinched at the mention of his brother’s name. Still silent.

Sam tried again, “When was the last time you slept?”

You shrugged, leaning casually against the closed door. Then with a harsh cough to wake up your vocal cords, you raised your eyes to meet Sam’s gaze. “What do you want Sam?” Your voice was rough, quiet, and clearly unused.

Sam tried to hide the alarmed look on his face as he cleared his throat.“Um... well... let’s just get down to it I guess..... it’s Dean.” Sam paused, checking for your response. Nothing. “He um, he’s not doing good.” A humorless laugh escaped his lips. “He looks even worse than you. And his hunting is beyond reckless. He’s going end up killed soon. He has nightmares every night. He never laughs, barely eats, doesn’t sleep-“

“So?”

Sam snapped his eyes back to you. “So?!”

You narrow your eyes, and Sam snorted in disbelief. “So?! SO, he’s a mess!! The guy is running himself into the ground. It’s amazing he’s even still alive! Hunting with him is like running a suicide mission!”

You walk over to your chair sitting in front of your laptop, resuming your research for your current hunt. “And?”

Sam took a breath to calm himself down. “And.....I’m asking you to comeback.”

Sam saw you visibly stiffen and quickly tried to rush in with an explanation. “Look, I know what Dean did. But he wasn’t in his right mind. He would NEVER have cheated on you if he hadn’t been black-out drunk! I understand you’re mad but he won’t make that mistake again, believe me. Please....it’s killing him.” Sam paused for a moment. “....and i think it’s killing you too.”

You shook your head and took a step farther away from Dean’s little brother. “You don’t understand. I’m not mad.”

Sam furrowed his brows, “You’re heart-broken.”

“Yes. But it’s more than that. I know D-“ You swallowed, choking on your lover’s name. “I know Dean would never make that mistake twice. Especially after all this.” You tried to ignored the tears that were beginning to fill your eyes. “That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

You swallowed again thickly, forcing yourself back into your emotionless cage. “The problem is when Dean cheated on me, his subconscious was in charge because of how drunk he was....and he chose another girl. He doesn’t want me, not really. Not deep down. And I.... I have been hurt, by so many people, I cant deal with that Dean left me too.”

Silence.

You didn’t care if your logic was flawed. But what was the point? Everything was numb in you, and you didn’t think you could feel anything even if you wanted to.

It scared you that a single person could impact you like this. It seemed illogical.

“I think you’d better go, Sam.”

“No, listen to me-“

“Sam. I’m not changing my mind. Dean needs to move on and deal with the consequences of his actions.”

Sam stared at you in disbelief. “Do you even care about him at all?” The quiet question hung in the air for a moment before you sighed and went to open the door, gesturing for Sam to exit.

“I care too much.”

The confession left your lips just as Sam walked past you. His step hesitated for a moment before he slipped a piece of paper into your hand.

“If you change your mind, we are staying in Indiana right now. This is this address of our motel....if you change your mind.”

Earnest hazel eyes gazed down at you, searching your dead gaze for a moment.

“Please...change your mind?”

—————————————————

Dean stared out the window of the motel, his mind replaying the morning you left over and over in his mind, like a cinema projection.

Sam had gone out somewhere a few hours ago. Dean hadn’t really paid attention to his explanation. He hadn’t really paid attention to anything lately.

The only thing that even kept him functioning was hunting.

The blood, the injuries, the pain. He felt as though he deserved it. So he reveled in it. Looked forward to it.

All he wanted was pain. In a hope that the physical hurt, could drown out the mental hurt he felt every day....it never did.

He knew he was being dramatic. But he had never thought he could be so effected by someone before...until she left and he realized... he loved her.

But he wouldn’t go after her. He didn’t deserve her.

“I’m sorry [Y/N]. I’m so fucking sorry.”

———————-

!!PART THREE Here!!

@supernatural13-13 @tftumblin @deans-babyy-momma

Let me know if anyone wants to be added to my tag list!

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bytemycupcakes · 5 years

Text

Breakup

A couple bits of Mavrik dealing with his and Charlie’s breakup, leading to some subtle fatherly (and Lucifer maybe?) bonding.

Words: 1574

(Thanks again to@/voneldrich for letting me use their name for the Von Eldrich father! Saved me so much pain TTvTT)

Mavrik takes a bit longer getting home than he usually does. It’s no surprise for him of course- He doesn’t want to see anyone. He can’t believe what he just did. How could he ever- He was raised better. He’s supposed to be better than that. That- Those things he did… That’s Helsa’s thing, she’s the one who attacks anyone and everyone. Not him. He thought so anyway, maybe things are changing, what’s next? Helsa sharing her feelings?

He’s barely holding back his tears, and can barely see through the ones managing to escape. He can feel blood leaking across his knuckles- Did he really punch those kids that hard? He’s not sure, he barely remembers it depite it happening just an hour ago.

Mavrik stumbles up the stairs and fumbles with opening the front door. As the door opens he’s met with his father- Right, he and Lucifer had a meeting tonight. Mavrik stares like a deer in headlights as Styx looks him over. Of course it’s pretty hard to miss how terrible Mavrik looks right now, so his father asks the dreaded question, “Mavrik- Son are you alright..?”

Mavrik tries to hold himself together, he’s almost an adult, he shouldn’t be breaking down at the slightest bit of concern. But god damn he just lost the source of his happiness- He sniffles and weakly shakes his head as he plants himself against his father’s shoulder, letting the tears finally fall. Styx sighs and quietly puts his arms around Mavrik, “It’s alright… Come- let’s sit down-”

Styx leads Mavrik to the couch and they sit. He wants to ask Mavrik why he’s so upset, but ultimately decides to wait until Mavrik calms down. They sit in silence for a bit, when he seems to remember something- He pulls out his phone and dials. Mavrik can hear the phone ring, so he tries to quiet himself.

“Ah- I was just about to call you-” Lucifer’s voice sounds through the phone speaker.

“Yes hello Lucifer- I… Think we may need to cancel our plans… Mavrik’s um-” Styx looks down at Mavrik, patting his head.

“Yyeeeesss… Charlotte’s quite-” Theres a loud crash through the speaker, “Angry… We’ll need to reschedule…”

“Indeed…” He hums and hangs up, setting the phone down.

“I-I’m sorry-” Mavrik mumbles between his sobs.

“I take it you and Charlotte must’ve broken up today..?”

Mavrik nods. His father tightens his hold on him, “Those can be tough, but you’ll be alright… In time.”

Mavrik shrugs like he doesn’t believe him, “I-” He sniffles, “I don’t think so, dad-” He wipes his tears the best he can, “I… It’s all my fault- Im so- stupid-”

Styx frowns, “Oh come now, Mavrik- Don’t talk about yourself like that… Your first relationship going sour is a common occurance, no need to beat yourself up about it.”

“But I-!” Mavrik cuts himself off- He doesn’t want to say it outloud, then it’ll be real- He huffs and gets up, “I’m- I’m gonna call it an early night… Thanks for- All of that, dad-”

He smiles, “You know I’ll always be here for you, Mavrik. Sleep well, son”

–

Mavrik is laying in bed, he doubts he got any sleep- He isn’t sure when he last slept honestly… Even though he hasn’t left his room in a week or so. Every time he tries he remembers what happened- He swears he can still… Feel her in his hand- Picture how angry she was with him- Why won’t the images leave his head? Why can’t he just forget it! Wouldn’t he be better off that way?

He pulls his pillow closer to his chest and huffs when he hears footsteps outside of his room. Mavrik isn’t really sure what time it is- But he’s sure that nobody should actually be home.

The footsteps stop, and there’s a small sigh, “How’s he doing?” Oh- It’s Lucifer.

“Better I’d assume… He stopped crying at least- He should still be sleeping if you’d like to check on him.” And his father- Mavrik wonders why they’re here- Rather than the Mange’s home where they usually work.

Mavrik quietly huffs, turning his head to the door in case Lucifer decides to come in.

“No, no.. I’ll let the boy be…”

The footsteps begin again, heading toward his father’s office. The voices pregressively get quieter.

“Hows Charlotte been?”

“Finally stopped tearing up her room-” Lucifer sighs, “Still no idea on what happened?”

“No- He won’t tell us… Just says it’s his fault-”

“Charlotte won’t say anything about it either- Did we mess up somewhere, Styx? To make them not trust us with this…?”

Their voices are to faded for Mavrik to hear his father’s responce- But he’ll conceide… Lucifer’s question makes him feel bad. Why hasn’t he told his parent’s what he did? They’re his parents- They’ll help him through this, wouldn’t they? But there’s another question on Mavrik’s mind, “… W̨̨͘͢͏h̵̛͘̕y͢ ̡d͏oes Lucifer even care how I’m doing…?”

His face scrunches up at how pathetic he sounds. He’s almost forgotten that he hasn’t talked in a few days. He hums into his pillow, he should probably get up- Doesn’t need his legs to atrophy… He will later.

–

A few hours pass- Long enough that Mavrik hopes he’s finally the only one home. He rolls off his bed- Litterally, he rolls off the mattress and thuds against the floor, “O͘w̶̨҉”

He clears his throat then groans as he forces himself to sit up. He stares at the floor for a bit, “C’mon Mav- You can get up, damnit. Can’t stay in here forever.” He slaps a hand on his bed, managing to push himself to his feet, “Life goes on… You gotta go with it-”

Mavrik has decided he’s going to fake it ‘til he makes it, so he does his best to push down his bad feelings and get dressed. He isn’t going anywhere, but looking like a presentable person usually helps one get out of depressive funks. He runs his hands through his- honestly disgusting- hair to attempt to tame it and glances at the sunlight peeking through his curtains, “I haven’t been outside in awhile, huh?” He squints at his now greasy feeling hands for a moment then back to the curtain, “It looks nice out- A walk out back wouldn’t kill me.”

The day is indeed nice, Mavrik strolls through the family garden with a subtle smile. He used to do this quite often when he was younger, he doesn’t remember why he ever stopped. The garden’s always been a nice quiet place to just think, and that’s exactly what Mavrik needs to do. He stops by one of the flowering bushes and cups one of the flowers. A petal has clearly been eaten a bit, but the flower appears to be fine, just a small scar in it’s life, it can move on and keep living.

Some tears start to bead up when Mavrik hears some distant speaking- Damn, He isn’t the only one home apparently. He figures he should show- whoever it is- that he’s finally “functioning” again, so he goes toward the voices source. He’ll admit, he isn’t too surprised when it turns out to be his father and Lucifer, though he thought they would’ve gone back to work by now.

“I just can’t figure out why Charlotte won’t be honest with me- She know’s I want to help- To see her happy-”

Mavrik grumbles to himself as he hears Lucifer- Of course they’re talking about Charlie, he and her have been the talk of their families since they broke up. He walks up beside the two parents, oh great he’s doing it, “I… May have an idea-” Mavrik leans forward as he pokes into their conversation.

They both look to him, surprised for a moment then they both smile.

“Mavrik my boy! It’s lovely to see you!” Lucifer sounds far to happy for Mavrik to really believe him.

Though he bows slightly anyway- it’s only polite, “Likewise, sir- I apologise that you must see me like this-” Sure he’s dressed, but he still looks awful.

Styx chuckles, waving a hand, “Nonsense, Mavrik. Lucifer’s seen you in diapers, seeing you distraught is no different.”

“… I suppose-” Mavrik shrugs, his father is right, sure, though he still doesn’t feel like he looks presentable.

Styx stands and goes to Mavrik, placing a hand on his shoulder, “It’s nice to finally see you out of bed, son… I’ve been getting worried”

“I’ll- Be fine, dad…” Mavrik shrugs once again, “Promise-” He tries to ignore how much that feels like a lie, he’s worried his family enough.

Lucifer gets up aswell, “Well- You’re not the only one struggling here, Charlotte’s taking it hard aswell. Though it isnt-” Lucifer cuts himself off for a moment, “Er- As… Physically obvious as your struggles-”

Styx rolls his eyes and sighs while pushing Lucifer away, “He’s- right but- Ignore him, Mavrik, you know Lucifer has no filter.”

“Yeah I’m startin’ to think you don’t either, dad-” Mavrik laughs slightly, “I’m- Gonna go take a shower- Before I start looking like one of those… Gaming losers- Who don’t know what deodorant is-” He awkwardly finger-guns at Styx and Lucifer as he backs away.

As Mavrik heads back to the house, the sound of Styx slapping Lucifer on the back of the head echoes through the garden- Mavrik snorts, but tries to hold in his laughter, pretending he couldn’t hear it.

#Hazbin hotel #Hazbin Lucifer #Hazbin Von Eldrich #MavAu #Baizli's writings! :0)

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furbyfubar · 4 years

Note

How's Sweden? 🇪🇺🇸🇪❤️

In what context? Do you mean for the country as a whole or what? Big question...

Never mind, I get few enough asks here that I can give you a more comprehensive answer. I'll use it as an excuse to take stock of my personal trends against those of my country? Sorry not sorry for the incoming wall of text. Note, this is why you shouldn't say "How do you do?" to anyone from Sweden; we're tragically likely to give you an honest answer!

Weather for Sweden: You're UK based, so lets go by stereotypes and start with talking about the weather I suppose? It's winter, so the weather here is *usually* quickly summed up as "dark". Right now Sweden has between ~7 hours 15 minutes of time between sun up and sun down in the far south of Sweden, and "fuck you" minutes of sun on the far north, where it's currently polar night until about two weeks into January. On top the normal lack of sun, Sweden got an early Autumn this year and had less actually sunny days than usual in October and November due to clouds. So yeah, vitamin D deficiency for about 25% of the population according to my doctor. And many of the ones avoiding a deficiency are doing it by eating supplements. On a longer time scale, ”climate” not “weather”... Yeah, we’ve been having heat records broken and all that shit here the past few years as as well while having some winters be worse due to the Gulf stream being messed up..

Rating: 3.5/10 – It sucks, but it's not much worse than the expected level of suckiness?Weather for me personally: I'm based in Stockholm and we're currently at 6½h of sun up time per day, but like I said, it’s been cloudy. Not so cold so far though. The problem for me personally is that when the sun goes down at 14:52 I often miss out on the sun completely due to my fucked up sleeping patterns. Or the sun is up but covered while I’m going to work and that's it for sunlight that day. I'd likely suffer from winter depression if only I could separate it from my normal depression. We’ve had some snow that stays on the ground, but we’re somewhat surprisingly not in the hell that is streets filled with snow-water slosh yet.

Rating: 3.5/10 – I don’t think the weather sucks more or less for me than it does for the country on average. (Places north of the polar circle excluded; I would really no be able to stand months of polar night.)

Health for Sweden: Sweden made #6 on the Bloomberg 2019 Healthiest Country Index, up two positions from 2017. Up from a score of 88.92 to 90.24 out of 100, so apparently it's not just other countries having worse health, things have gotten a bit better here.Rating: 9.24/10 – Well, Bloomberg hopefully put a lot more effort into their score than I’ll ever do, so I’ll just re-scale and steal it.

Health for me personally: I had to basically skip a year due depression and exhaustion. Not being able to work due to a non-functioning brain obviously sucks, but to bring this back to how Sweden is: Being able to be on sick leave for almost a year and thus being able to focus on getting medication that works for me and not being worried about getting evicted for not making rent is a blessing. I'm back to working part time since October while still on sick leave for 50%, trying to ease me back in to the productive work force. So far going well. If I’d been forced to somehow work or starve, or live off my parents or something instead, I’m pretty sure I’d either be much deeper in depression right now, or be dead. I’ve still not really found meds that work great for me, but I'm feeling much better than I was a year ago.

Rating: 3/10 – I'm as optimistic as a clinically depressed person gets to be.

Status politically for Sweden (as I see it personally): It's getting more fucked by the day. The Moderate party just broke their campaign promise to not cooperate with the Sweden Democrats, a party born from neo-Nazi and white power movements. For UK context, think of the British National Party. Now imagine them going from a fringe group in the '90s to getting 20% of the votes in recent polls. They've been doing this all while having a whole bunch of scandals that would've hurt or killed the credibility of any non-fascist party. They're racist, homo- and transphobic, and operate their own alternative media that have ties to Russian disinformation efforts. So yeah, as a gay guy who's seen the inside of a few history books: Outlook not great.

Rating: 2/10 – If only because it can still get worse. Think first act of Cabaret.

Love life for Sweden: Hmm, check in on satwcomic.com I suppose?

Love life for me personally: Yes please? I've been single for longer than I'm willing to admit. I've barely dated anyone for ages due to my aforementioned depression making me not feel like someone worth dating. Also, there's some types of vitamin D deficiencies that eating supplements won't cure...

Rating: I really don't want to put a number on this so I won’t. Honestly, graphing out my love life numerically doesn't sound all that productive. But somewhere at the edge of the Bell curve is the guy for me?

Economically for Sweden: Sweden's been in a upward business cycle since 2016, but it's ebbing out and is expected to be balanced sometime next real. Ie, things have been good, but things aren't quite yet bad. Rating: 5.5/10 – I suppose? Not really my area of expertise.

Economically for me personally: Not complaining at all on this front. I got an IT job four years ago after having worked part time in retail for a bunch of years and having been a student before that. I've managed to not raise my monthly expenses even nearly as much as my pay went up. So while I’m not wealthy, I'm still surprised by being able to have a savings account that grows steadily and still having more spending money over each month.

My rating: 8/10 – This quote by Charles Dickens comes to mind: “Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen six, result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pound ought and six, result misery.”

Social life in Sweden: According to this article I just Googled up from half remembering reading in 2015, “The expat quality of life survey" published by HSBC, Sweden was the worst country for the category "Making friends". Looking at the data on HSBC's website we're apparently no longer dead last as a place to be making friends, we're now 31st out of the 33 countries listed, with Japan at 32nd place and Saudi Arabia last at 33rd. The United Kingdom is at 29th.

It is close to impossible to make friends here by talking to random strangers in most situations, as only weird people talk to strangers. Of course that mentality is self-fulfilling since if you assume any stranger talking to you is weird, drunk, or high, you will not want to make friends with strangers that talk to you, and you won't want to talk to strangers more than you have to or risk being branded weird. Even striking up random conversations at a pub will be more difficult here.

But don’t despair, there’s a trick! Find the few social situations where Swedes want to talk to people they don't know: This is done by joining some organization or club of some sort. It doesn't really matter if it's a board gaming group, a student group, doing volunteer work for the local Pride or some other NPO or if it's a club for people who really like a certain breed of dogs. Once we've decided that we're among our own kind of people (and I don't mean "other Swedes") we'll happily talk to strangers, and not only about subjects related to that specific organization. Step two is converting them to be your friends and not just some randos you can talk to at some club meeting. I’m sad to say that traditionally this is done with alcohol, either by dragging people along to a pub/bar, or by inviting them or being invited by them to some sort of party. Without alcohol the fallback is fika. If the organization you’ve joined is something that you will naturally be spending time doing outside of the organization or club meetings that’s also ideal. Once you’ve invited or been invited to a few things outside of the organization it’s not strange to invite them to other social things than what the organization cares about.

For fairness to anyone reading this that didn’t read the article: I should probably also mention that the same HSBC study had Sweden as the top country in Europe for “overall quality of life” for expats here. And third best in the world, just behind Singapore and New Zealand in the same category. "Swedes make great friends but terrible strangers”.

My rating for making friends in Sweden is : 3/10 - Join a club, any club.

Social life for me personally: I have a few great close friends and a bunch more not quite as close friends who are also great. Come to think of it, many of them I've met through one of the three different organizations I've been most active in, and most of the rest I met through those friends. I'm really thankful for having friends who are still around even after I've spent way too much time feeling too bad to be very social or friendly at all.

My rating of my friends: 10/10 - No, I'm not biased.OK, so let’s average those numbers up and pretend the averages mean something!

Sweden: 5.81Me: 6.63Wait what? I’m winning?

#personal #depression #Sweden #Stockholm

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imaginetonyandbucky · 6 years

Note

Bucky's therapist tells him to set goals for himself, and after encountering a sleep deprived and injured Tony, he found it. Protecting and taking care of Tony Stark. Even if the genuis says he doesnt need help.

Crazy Random Happenstance

The plant was dead.

Not even maybe salvageable. Dead. Most of the leaves werelittering the potting soil and the few that remained were shriveled and brown.Even the plant’s main stem looked like someone had mummified it. There wasmildew in the soil. Well, at least that part of it was alive.

Bucky stared at the plant like he could possibly will it back tolife.

Nothing happened. Which was probably for the best really.

He heaved a sigh, turned the plant over and dumped all its brokenbits, useless, over-watered soil, and the little plant food stick that Tash hadrecommended, into the kitchen trash can. He considered throwing the pot inafter it, but he could hear someone in the communal living room, and while Tonywould have no qualms about disposing of a perfectly useful, not broken flowerpot, Steve would give Bucky that look. It was the same look he used whensnitching jelly packets at the deli, or ordering water with lemon when they ateout.

You could take Steve out of the Great Depression, but you couldn’ttake the Depression out of Steve, apparently.

Bucky slumped back into the chair at the table, now staring at theempty flower pot. He wasn’t doing such a great job taking the depression out ofhimself, either.

How was he supposed to tell his therapist that he’d killed theproject she assigned him. In less than a month, he’d killed a supposedlyunkillable plant.

Great.

Winter Soldier. Black thumb gardener.

(more below the cut)

Bucky’d lived most of his life, up until he died, taking care ofSteve. But Steve didn’t need to be looked after anymore.

Hydra had given him a purpose. It was twisted and warped, but itwas something.

He still wasn’t cleared to be an Avenger. His therapist had to dothat. She wasn’t going to do it if Bucky presented a dead succulent as evidencethat he knew how to take care of things.

Fuck.

“Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying,” came Tony’s voice, as hestrolled into the kitchen, phone held to his ear. He tucked it between hisshoulder and jaw and began trying to load the coffee machine. “The man is anidiot, I’m saying you should fire him and put that assistant of his in chargeof the project. She’s-- I know she’s never done it before, but sometime has tobe the first, right? ...Well, it worked great with you, Pep, so I don’t-- No.Yes, I know you’re the people person, but I’m telling you-- Just give it somethought, okay? The stockholders will only scream until they see what a greatidea it is. Yeah. No, that’s next week. Okay. See you then.” He unshrugged hisshoulder and let the phone clatter to the counter as he continued to makecoffee.

“Morning, Comrade Snowflake,” he said to Bucky. “Coffee?” Heflipped the switch on the coffee maker and turned around, facing Buckydirectly. His eyes landed on the empty flower pot, and his head cockedquizically. “Air plant?”

“Used t’be a fascinating hawthorne, or somethin’ like that,” Buckysaid. “But it’s so dead, I reckon its ancestors are goin’ extinct. Watchthat--” Bucky jumped out of his chair and grabbed the coffee pot off thecounter, jamming it in place under the drip before it overflowed watery groundseverywhere.

Tony blinked owlishly at Bucky’s sudden lunge, and then at thecoffee pot. “...Huh. Yeah, that. That probably would have been a better placeto put that.” He opened the cabinet over the coffee maker and stretched up ontiptoe, groping for a mug that was just out of his reach. He managed to hook afinger through the handle and drag it closer, just as what looked like a trulyepic yawn forced its way out of his mouth. The mug teetered on the rim of theshelf and then fell off, shattering into dozens of pieces.

Bucky stared at Tony. “When was th’ last time you got sleep thatdidn’t come out of a cup?” He grabbed another mug -- someone reallyshould reorganize these, coffee mugs were the most commonly used item in thekitchen, they didn’t need to be on the top shelf -- and put it on the counter.

“Nyet, don’t do that,” he said, when Tony squatted down topick up the broken shards of pottery. “Get a broom, or better yet, you staythere, an’ I’ll get a broom, afore you bring the whole building down around ourears.”

“Chill, Elsa, it’s just a mug. I think the building can handle it.I mean, it handled some broken walls and floors and stuff after that robotinvasion, I’m pretty sure it can handle this. I built it, after all, and thingsI build tend to stay built.” He was rambling, which meant he was probablyrunning on less than three hours of sleep. “But if you want to be on cleanupdetail, far be it from me to get in your way.”

Bucky made a noncommittal sort of noise and went for the broom.Cleaning supplies -- which were barely touched, honestly -- hung in the sidecloset. Bucky did a quick check of the kitchen to make sure Tony wasn’t aboutto drop the stove on his head or something, then fetched a broom and dustpan. Seriously,he was out of Tony’s sight for less than thirty seconds when he heard a varietyof swear words and another crash from the kitchen.

He darted back into the kitchen to find Tony on the floor in apuddle of coffee and another broken mug. One of the kitchen chairs was lying onits side. The coffee pot was on the counter instead of on the coffee machine’shot plate, but at least it was still upright.

Tony lifted a hand and cursed again; there was a thumb-sized shardof mug embedded in his palm. Before Bucky could stop him, he pulled it out, andblood began pouring out of his hand. “Fuck.”

Bucky sighed, reconstructing the scene in his head. Apparently,being so offended at the idea that he might, Bucky didn’t know, accident himselfto death, Tony hadn’t noticed Bucky got a mug down for him, dragged the chairover, and was standing on it. How that ended up with Tony, chair and anothersmashed mug on the floor, Bucky wasn’t entirely sure. He pinched the bridge ofhis nose with the metal fingers.

He grabbed a clean dishtowel out of the rack. “Lemme see,” hesaid, squatting near Tony and holding out one hand.

“It’s just a cut,” Tony protested, but he held out his hand forBucky to take. “I do worse than that every time I rebuild one of the carengines, or overhaul DUM-E’s struts.”

Bucky ignored the words, squeezing Tony’s wrist in one hand andblotting at the cut with the towel. It didn’t look deep enough, or long enough,to need stitches -- and Bucky had been, at one time, an expert on people whoneeded stitches. Steve had looked like Frankenstein’s monster most of theirchildhood. But, of course, Tony’s hands were filthy, fingers smeared withgrease and God only knew what else.

Bucky had an absolute horror of infections; Steve got laid lowwith them all the time when he was a kid. “I’mma help you up, and we’re gonnawash this out, yeah?”

Tony pouted at him. “I don’t need help, I’m a fully-functioningadult with two working legs.” But he didn’t try to shake Bucky off when Buckyslipped an arm around his waist and lifted him to his feet.

“Yeah, an’ like five minutes ago, you was a fully-functioningadult with an uncut hand and two unbroke teacups. I shudder t’ think what youmight do to your legs with th’ next five,” Bucky scolded. “World needs IronMan, not Tony Stark with a broken leg.”

“I could totally fight evil with a broken leg,” Tony saidindignantly, apparently not even noticing as Bucky turned on the water andmaneuvered Tony’s hand under it. “I actually might have, once. The armor makesa pretty decent cast, actually, if I lock up the joints.”

“Don’t even doubt it,” Bucky said. Because of course Tonyhad engaged with the enemy while already wounded. He checked the cut again,then wrapped the dishtowel around it, pulling it tight for a makeshift bandage.He kept pressure on it for a few minutes, despite Tony’s flailing about in anattempt to get back to the coffee pot and coffee. “No. You don’t need any morecaffeine. What you need’s sleep.”

“No, I’m fine,” Tony said, but another yawn rather ruined theeffect. He pouted some more. “I can’t, I’m right in the middle of a thing. Ijust need some coffee and I’m good to go.”

Bucky recognized stubborn; he’d seen that sort of chin on SteveRogers every damn day. “What sort of a thing?” he asked, hoping to distractTony for a few minutes. Just a few. Please God, could he not break something,trip over something, or run into something for five. Minutes. Please. “Putpressure on that.”

Coffee. Fuck, this was such a bad idea. He poured the remainder ofthe coffee into the perfectly unbroken mug, stuffed the pot back onto the hotplate with about an inch left in the bottom. Someone -- Clint probably -- wasgoing to be pissed about that, but oh well.

Tony started rambling about charge retention and outputwaveforms and all kinds of technical-sounding things that barely made anysense until Bucky managed to piece together that Tony was trying to create aphone battery that would last longer. The longer he talked, the more he wavedhis hands around, nearly smacking Bucky in the face with the end of thedishtowel several times.

Bucky managed to understand just enough of it to keep Tonytalking. He cleaned up the mess on the floor, rinsed the coffee pot, got it setup to brew a new batch, because that was just nice, and made two sandwiches,all the while prodding Tony along with questions “-- is there some reason youcan’t make the battery smaller? Fit more in th’ same space?” and “-- don’tthink I’d thought about it that way,” and “-- so, a good shut down feature’dhelp some, from all them memory loggers? People ain’t need their solitaire gamerunnin’ in the background when they’re checkin’ google maps.

“Hey, roast turkey an’ avocado on gluten-free bread?”

“Yeah, but that’s a software fix and I’ve-- What?” Tony lookedover at the counter where Bucky had spread out the sandwich supplies. “Nothun-- Well, maybe a little. Sure, that sounds great.”

“Well, it’s like a gas tank; can’t increase capacity, might aswell lower th’ weight of the car, right?” Bucky commented. “Jus’ saying.” Hefound himself almost humming as Tony continued to brainstorm, mouth full ofsandwich. There was something satisfying about getting Tony to slow down for afew minutes, eat, rest. Might be good to get him out of the coffee stainedclothes, a shower, and some damn sleep, but Bucky would take what he couldget-- except, just maybe… For someone to claim not to be hungry, he wasputting a dent in that sandwich. Tony’s eyelashes fluttered a few times as hechewed another bite.

“...so the real trick is...” Tony paused to yawn and take anotherbite. “..is...” He drifted into silence, eyelids drooping. “Uh.” He put theremains of the sandwich down -- no more than two bites left. “Think I might gocatch a nap, actually,” he said, sleep-slurred. “Come back to it fresh.”

“Okay,” Bucky said, very softly, not wanting to draw attention tohimself. “Come on, then, I’ll walk you up.” He hooked his arm around Tony’swaist, slung the uninjured hand over Bucky’s shoulders. Very gently, he pulledTony to his feet and started toward the elevator. “I got ya, no worries.”

“You don’t gotta...” Tony waved his free hand around aimlessly,dishtowel flapping. “Could’a just fallen on th’ sofa.”

“Clint’ll be back from th’ range soon,” Bucky reasoned. “An’ he’llwant to watch Dog Cops. Come on, resident genius, bed.”

Tony literally fell asleep on his feet before the elevator made itdown to their floor. He barely stirred when Bucky scooped him up,princess-style and bridal carried him up the elevator, and onto his floor.JARVIS opened the door for him, and Bucky made his way cautiously through thelayout of Tony’s penthouse suite, where he’d never been before. Finally, a hugebed. He lay Tony down on it, removed shoes, stained tee, and belt, then rolledhim up in the quilt like an engineering burrito.

Bucky looked at him for a long moment, amazed at how relaxed Tonylooked when he was sleeping, all the worries dropping off his face. There was asmudge of motor oil on his cheek. Bucky rubbed it off with his thumb. “Get somesleep,” he said. “Everything’ll still be waiting for you in th’ morning.”

Tony woke up feeling warm and amazingly well-rested and the faintsmell of coffee.

All in all, it was a pretty great way to wake up.

He wriggled his arms out of the blankets and stretched, thenflinched when his hand hurt. He pried an eye open to look at it, and found asomewhat bloodstained dishtowel had been tied around it. He pried the towel offto look at the cut on his palm, clean and scabbed over.

He frowned at it. He didn’t remember cutting himself -- and thenhe did. He’d climbed up on the kitchen chair to get a mug, and then pouredcoffee into it without bothering to climb back down first, and as he’d startedto take a drink, he’d overbalanced and tipped the chair over, and himself withit.

Embarrassing. Why did they even keep the coffee mugs on the topshelf?

Bucky had washed out the cut for him and wrapped it in the towel,and then... made him a sandwich? Was he remembering that right? And then...Tony couldn’t remember what had happened after that. He couldn’t even rememberfinishing the sandwich. And he’d meant to just take the coffee down to theworkshop so he could finish that battery overhaul. Why was he in bed?

He struggled free of the blankets -- they were wrapped all the wayaround him -- and found that he was still wearing his pants, but had beendivested of his shirt and shoes.

Which meant he hadn’t come back to his room on his own. If he’dbeen running on autopilot he would have just fallen face-first on top of thebed and passed out, not gotten half undressed and rolled up into the blankets.

“JARVIS? Did... Did the goddamn Winter goddamn Soldier put me tobed?”

“Indeed, sir,” JARVIS agreed.

“Show me.”

JARVIS obligingly popped up a holoscreen showing the slightlyfisheye-distorted view from one of the security cameras of Bucky carrying apassed-out Tony into the penthouse like a goddamn princess.

“I must’ve been more tired than I thought. How long was I out?”

“Just over ten hours,” JARVIS said, sounding warmly approving.

“...Huh.”

Well, it was Avengers Tower. Weird things happened.

“Hey, Tony,” Bucky greeted him over the Tower’s comm system, “ifyou've got a minute, I'm havin’ a joint issue in the thumb? Can I come downwhen you're free?”

It wasn't entirely a lie. The thumb was sticking just a bit, butnothing really worth a full maintenance. Bucky could open the same thinghimself and blow it out with a little compressed air. He personally hated doingit -- compressed air was cold -- but he could.

Not the point.

The point was he'd gotten street tacos from one of Tony's favoritefood trucks and he was curious to see if Sam's trick worked on Tony as well asit worked on Steve.

“Watch this,” Sam had said, unwrapping a candy bar and setting itnext to Steve's elbow during movie night.

Sure enough, about ten minutes later, Steve had absently picked itup and ate it without even noticing.

“Milky Way principle,” Sam had called it. “Sooner or later,everyone eats the Milky Way.”

“Sure thing, Red Menace,” Tony agreed. “Whenever it suits, come ondown. I’ll leave the door unlocked and the lights on.”

Bucky made his way down to Tony's shop, bag of tacos under onearm, drink holder in the other hand. JARVIS opened the door for him when he gotdown there. “I appreciate this,” Bucky said, putting the bag down. He unloadedthe tacos onto Tony’s workbench, pushing the rare flank steak and lime cilantroones toward Tony, chicken and black bean on his end. “Just a little sticky,here.” He rolled the joint, which made a dry, clicking sound as it moved, likedirt in gears. Probably exactly what it was, really.

“Sounds like you got some dirt in the gears,” Tony said. He kickedout a lab stool toward Bucky and turned on a desk lamp. “Bring it over here andlet’s have a look.”

He took his time, carefully disabling the nerve-conduit receptorsbefore prying open the small plates and starting to examine all the fine motorsand servos. He pulled a magnifying glass over to look at the tiniest parts, andabsently picked up one of the tacos, taking a bite and chewing as he reachedfor the can of compressed air.

At least it wasn’t as bad, when Tony did it. For reasons thatprobably made sense if you were Hydra and therefore, a fucking sadist, Buckycouldn’t disable the nerve-conduits himself. It still felt fucking weird,having air rushing inside part of his body. Psychosomatic, he told himself. Allin your fucking head. “How’s the battery project goin’?” It bothered him,sometimes, that nobody else really seemed to listen to Tony. They cared thattheir gear worked, but not why, or how, or the amount of work that Tony putinto it.

Bucky was the guy, when he discovered he was in the future, readthe manual for the microwave. And then he’d taken it apart, to see how it allfit together. He had not, mind, been able to reassemble it into workingcondition. Thankfully, Tony hadn’t asked questions when Bucky told him it wasbroken, and could he expense a second one. Bucky’d mostly not taken that one apart.

Mostly.

“Oh, I finished that,” Tony said easily. “I was able to come upwith a new alloy for the conductive sheets that maintains signal integrity 143%better than the standard stuff, and the bump in cost is only about eightpercent, so hopefully that will translate when we start production.” He glancedup with a grin, and there was a little bit of cilantro stuck to his frontteeth. “Turns out you can make the gas tank bigger, if you know whatyou’re doing.”

“Sounds good,” Bucky said. “So what are you working on today?” Hetook the drinks out of the carrier and sat one next to Tony. Italian soda, ofthe non-caffeinated variety. Tony probably wouldn’t notice, and the man ran onstraight high octane way too often. “You’re always poking around down here,what do you do for fun?”

Tony jerked his thumb toward the cars at the back of the workshop.“That’s my fun project,” he said. “Soup those babies up and take them for adrive -- not that you can really open up in New York, but I’ve found some goodback roads upstate.” He dug out a little whisk-looking brush and startedcleaning out Bucky’s joint. “Not that I have much time for it, with everything.Today’s project is an armor upgrade for the team.”

Bucky hadn’t really looked at the cars, they had just been part ofthe background clutter, but wow, they were nice. “Huh,” Bucky said. “I ‘memberyour dad, tryin’ to build one that could fly. Didn’t, but for a few minutes ithovered and that was pretty nifty. You’ll hafta show me what all’s changed, butI used to work in a garage, back before the war. Used to have a ‘38 top-downStudebaker that I won off a punk, didn’t run worth a damn, but I was alwaystinkerin’ with it, thinking I could get it going, and have me a really sweetride for dates, and that stuff. Don’t know whatever happened to it.”

“Yeah? I have a few older cars, but that was mostly my dad’sobsession. I tend toward the newer ones. Engines have changed a lot since then,but come down sometime and I’ll give you a tour.” He finished up the last ofhis tacos and picked up the soda without looking away from Bucky’s thumb.

Bucky smiled down at Tony, the dark head so intent on themechanical arm. “Yeah, okay, it’s a date. How ‘bout I’ll bring lunch tomorrowan’ you can take a break then?”

‘Hm? Yeah, sure,” Tony said. He closed up the plates andreconnected the nerve conduits. “There, that should do the trick. Let me knowif it starts acting up again.”

Bucky flexed his hand a few times, everything was in working orderagain. Nice. “Thanks, ‘preciate that,” he said, then, “oh, you got something onyour cheek there.” He rubbed the metal along Tony’s face, catching a dollop ofthat lime aioli sauce.

“What?” Tony looked startled, but didn’t flinch away from thetouch. “Oh, right, thanks.” He picked up the soda and took another long drinkfrom it before looking at it with a slightly confused frown. “Did you bringthis, is this yours?”

“No, this one’s mine,” Bucky said, pointing to the other drink.“That one’s yours. Don’t forget to wrap up early tonight, it’s movie night, an’we’re s’posed to be watching some Alien? Aliens? Something like that. Thoughtyou might wanna watch it with us. I ain’t never seen it.”

Tony’s face lit in a grin. “You’re in for a treat, Barnes,” hepromised. “I won’t miss it. Save me some popcorn.”

Bucky left the shop, grinning like a fool. Two days of lunches,movie night, and maybe, maybe he’d be able to talk Tony into going outside andgetting some damn sun on his skin so he didn’t turn into a mushroom. It wasgoing well. He already looked better rested. Happier, too.

Mission, success.

Tony woke with a start. The last thing he remembered, Ripley hadbeen warning the Alien queen away from Newt like the true badass that she was.He must have fallen asleep watching the movie.

His surroundings bore out that hypothesis: he was still in theliving room, though it was dark and quiet now. There was a scatter of popcornon the floor, a couple of beer bottles abandoned on the coffee table thatsuggested the marathon had continued after Cap had gone to bed, because Stevewould’ve pestered everyone to clean up if he’d still been up.

Tony could already tell he had a crick in his neck; he was too oldto be falling asleep sitting up and then slumping over in his sleep. He huffedout a sigh over not having been woken when everyone else packed it in (whichwas patently unfair; none of the Avengers woke each other up for anything otherthan an emergency, because all of them were toting around enough trauma that itwas not only possible but likely that anyone rudely awakened would come out ofit swinging).

Well, maybe he’d have to find an hour in his schedule -- somewhere-- to hire a masseuse to take care of his neck for him. He started to sit up--

--and that was when he realized that he’d had his head pillowed onBucky’s thigh.

Bucky was sitting in the corner of the couch, head tipped back inapparent sleep. His hand was loosely curled on the cushion next to Tony’s head,as if he’d fallen asleep in the middle of petting Tony’s hair or something.

Weird.

He probably wouldn’t wakeup with a crick in his neck.

Tony sat the rest of the way up and tried, fruitlessly, to stretchout his shoulder muscles to relieve the tension.

“Oh,” Bucky said, softly, although why he was bothering to whisperwhen there was no one else in the room, Tony wasn’t sure. “Here, let me--” Heflexed the metal hand a few times, ostentatiously, and Tony wasn’t sure why hewas doing that either, except when his hand came down on Tony’s aching neck, itwas pleasantly warm, and the smooth pad of the thumb pushed in right on thesore spot, encouraging the muscle to relax.

“Oh, Jesus,” Tony half-moaned, feeling his muscles quiver and thenmelt under the steady pressure. “That’s good.”

“Huh, it’s a wonder you can walk straight,” Bucky murmured,prodding the muscle in Tony’s shoulder, working out a knot just to one side ofhis spine. “My Christ, your tension has tension.” He worked his thumbs downTony’s shoulders, just shy of too hard, enough so that Tony went all limp,pushing back into it shameless as a cat while Bucky petted and prodded thestiff, aching muscles. “Oughta get you t’ lay down sometime.”

Normally, Tony would’ve answered that with a quip about Buckytrying to get him into bed, or even just a salacious grin and a waggle of theeyebrows, but Bucky was turning the hot steel rods in Tony’s back intoputty-like muscle, and all Tony could do was moan in something like agreement.“Christ, that’s good. We should get you a massage therapy license and put youon staff.”

Bucky flexed his metal hand again. “Yeah, I don’t think that’llwork out so good. Normal people don’t really like me touchin’ em.” He hitchedin a breath. “You don’t… seem to mind.”

“Why the hell would I mind?” Tony wondered. “That arm’s amiracle.”

Bucky probably shrugged, based on the way his hands moved onTony’s back. “People don’t like it,” he said. “It’s, like, creepy or somethin’.Oh, wait, wait, there it is.” His fingers started easing another knot loose,like a kid untying their shoes. “Deep breath, let it out slow. This might stinga mite--” As Tony let the air out of his lungs, Bucky wrapped his flesh armaround Tony’s chest and pushed at his back with the heel of his hand. There wasa popping sound like the last few kernels of corn in a microwavable bag, andeverything seemed to unravel.

“Oh, god.” It hurt for a moment, a sharp flare of burn, andthen he sagged in sudden relief, not even caring that he was making Bucky holdhim up. “I think I’ll keep you,” he said, only half joking. He couldn’t rememberever feeling this limp.

“Yeah, okay, sugar daddy,” Bucky said. “C’mon, let’s get you tobed.”

“I don’t think I can move,” Tony said. “You melted me.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we? Iron Man’s not so impressivewhen he’s a puddle,” Bucky said. He stood up, stretched magnificently, back andshoulder crackling. “You need me to carry you again, princess?”

Tony snorted. “No, just... Help me up, would you?” He held up hishand. “I’m too old for this.”

“Pfft, you’re like half my age,” Bucky said. He linked his handwith Tony’s and hauled him off the sofa, gripping Tony’s shoulder with theother hand to keep him steady, which-- Tony looked right up into those darkgrey eyes, and they were almost kissing close, Bucky’s breath puffed warmagainst Tony’s cheek. “Oh.” And Bucky didn’t move in, but he didn’t back off,either, just stood there, like a wild animal trapped by a set of high beams.

Huh. “Is, uh. Is this why you’ve been... I dunno, sort of takingcare of me lately?” Tony wondered.

Sergeant Barnes, hero of the Howling Commandos, the WinterSoldier, feared assassin, made a tiny little squeaking noise, sounding for allthe world like a kitten that had pounced on a bug. “Um… no? I mean, not… kinda…yeah, it’s… no. No. I been lookin’ after you ‘cause it seemed like you neededlookin’ after, an’... I need it. I mean, I’m just all at loose ends, ain’tnobody around here really needs me for anything, and I… need to be needed.Can’t take care of a damn houseplant to save my life, an’ I didn’t wanna get a cat,you know, I don’t even know if you let people have pets in this building, and…it just happened. And I was feelin’ better about me, and seemed like it washelping you, and…” He waved his hand briefly in the very narrow space betweentheir bodies. “This just happened.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully. “I can work with that.” He swayedcloser, watching as Bucky’s eyes widened and flicked down to Tony’s mouth.“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Bucky agreed, a breathless whisper. He nudged in, nuzzledlightly at Tony’s mouth with lips that were full and plush, the upper liptwitched as he encountered Tony’s facial hair. Tenderly, Bucky slid his handinto Tony’s hair, metal fingers slipping through the locks and very lightlytugged at the short hairs at the back of Tony’s scalp. “Yes, Tony.”

Tony smirked a little, then leaned in to kiss Bucky more fully,licking past those sweet lips to tease at the corner of Bucky’s mouth, to trythe taste of him. “Well, come on, then,” he said. “Let’s go tuck me into bed.”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haworthiopsis_fasciata ← this is the plant. Tisfan has murdered at least four of thesedamn things.

#winteriron #tony x bucky #tony stark #bucky barnes #tony fails at self-care #clumsy tony #nurturing winter soldier #awkward flirting #prompts #tisfan #27dragons #Anonymous

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