And That’s What Your Really Missed S1E3 Acafellas
So I started listening to Showmance and those old recap episodes and what I thought would be fun is to listen to Showmance’s coverage of episodes before the And That’s What You Really Missed one comes out. That way I’m really able to hear the difference or lack thereof that nearly three years of distance makes for Jenna and Kevin. I can’t promise to do a summary like this for every episode but I listened to both podcast eps on Acafellas today so here goes my recap of two recaps.
First off, Jenna and Kevin are doing an A/B/C plot structure from now on instead of a scene-by-scene recap, which I wholeheartedly support. It flows much better and cuts the awkwardness by at least 30%. They talked about dreading it but have a better opinion than they thought they would, and I can confirm they were overall less happy about Acafellas during their Showmance episode. Even back then they highlighted the Mercedes plot being the best part, including Bust Your Windows.
What was new/different:
They talk about being in Australia when Acafellas premiered, something they didn’t touch on at all in Showmance. Recounts of nights out, hangovers, and the enthusiasm of Australian fans.
John Lloyd Young, who played no-thumbed Henri St. Pierre was Lea Michele’s boyfriend at the time. Did not know that.
Cheyenne Jackson was supposed to play Dakota Stanley but got the flu. He later went on to play Dustin Goolsby.
More of an appreciation for the adult storyline - well, not appreciation. They just get it more why the show decided to have a Will/adults A plot. Even in Showmance they talked about these early episodes playing to established strengths like Matt Morrison’s boyband past.
They mentioned less of the Unholy Trinity’s/Quinntana’s scheming here and in Showmance they noted how cruel they were for setting Mercedes up for failure. They also didn’t spend as much time talking about the Sandy of it all.
Some of the talking points touched on during both podcast episodes:
Shelby Shum being one of the Vocal Adrenaline dancers.
Kevin and Amber bonding over loving Jazmine Sullivan and suggesting they covered her songs.
They highlighted the Quinntana duo and Naya having more to do during both eps; in Showmance they lamented that Dianna and Naya didn’t get to act together as much later on. Big mood.
Overall I think they talked more about Kurtcedes in Showmance as well but they again emphasized how great a friend Mercedes is and how big a deal Kurt’s coming out was. Also talked about Amber and Hemo melting blowing everyone away with their singing/dancing respectively.
Tartie takes:
Cringe moment: dancing, Acafellas, straight vibes
Favourite song: Bust Your Windows, ofc
Best line: Sue’s armpits and smelling of failure line
Best performance from a prop: vomit into the trashcan/rock in the windshield
Didn’t age well: Sandy/Dakota’s insults
Shit we found on TikTok:
This one was strange, it was just a TikTok pointing out funny side character names in the credits like Super Gay Warbler and Other Gay Warbler in season 6. No real commentary on it other than it’s funny.
The TikTok segment still feels unnecessary but I like the flow of the pod better now. I also don’t know if this is a very recent thing but Kevin’s audio is decidedly better than it was at the beginning. They might have recorded this one at the studio. They teased this week’s guest episode at the end and I can only assume it’ll be Mike O’Malley. Could be Dianna based on the Preggers buildup and Chris already having guessed but they mentioned the Kurt plot of the next ep, not the Quinn one, hence my Burt guess.
7 notes
·
View notes
Re: April 1st Clowngate
hey fantoms! i heard we’re streaming all the cast’s songs on april 1st (the fools we are!), so i made a playlist of all their songs for easier streaming. and yes. i mean all.
so here’s the megaplaylist! featuring:
the whole Julie and the Phantoms soundtrack
Madison Reyes’ cover of Dreaming of You
all songs by Jeremy Shada, Sacha Carlson, and Jadah Marie
Every song from Descendants 1, 2, and 3 with Cheyenne Jackson, Booboo Stewart, and/or Jadah Marie (including all the mashups, dance remixes, and holiday songs)
All of Cheyenne Jackson’s EPs, albums, Broadway musicals and movie soundtracks (it’s like half the playlist tbh) ((my fave is That Ham is Lovely))
Booboo Stewart’s cover of Under the Sea
All of Carlos Ponce’s albums (1998-2002) and singles (all in Spanish)
Every song by That band Honey. (Booboo Stewart’s band)
Every song by Make Out Monday (Jeremy Shada’s band)
happy streaming, clowns!
47 notes
·
View notes
FFT: do i look lonely; jeff hardy
Notes:
As previously mentioned... I may have a slight teeny tiny.. itty bitty.. thing.. for Jeff Hardy. And when this came to me on the main from @kyleoreillysknee I had to do this idea when it hit. And naturally, I was not about to leave this off my wrestling fanfiction blog uh, duh?
Summary:
Cheyenne is out at a bar and she’s dealing with a drunken idiot. Enter Jeff who basically tells the guy to gtfo. which of course, leads to Cheyenne and Jeff talking to each other and getting a little cozy.
Pairing:
Jeff Hardy x OFC, Cheyenne
Warnings:
alcohol tw - cos they’re at a bar, rude asshole drunk guy, flirting and fluff.
“You don’t have to sit over here all sullen and moody, Cheyenne.” Lita was by her side, trying to give her the subtlest nudge towards the inside of the bar. Cheyenne didn’t want to step foot inside. Truth be told, she didn’t want to be on the deck of the bar either, but here she was.
… Might as well make the most of it, Lita was nice enough to invite me on her date with Edge… and bearing that thought in mind, Cheyenne plastered on her most polite smile and urged her new friend to go back inside to her boyfriend.
“Edge said he’d call Christian..”
“No. No, no. No. I’m not.. I mean that’s sweet but he’s just not my type?” Cheyenne took a deep breath and nodded to the stage where some pop punk cover band was setting up. “If it’s okay, I think I’d rather stay out here. You know I’m not the biggest fan of heavy crowds and just going in through there to come out here kind of had me skittish..” she gave Lita a pleading look and Lita mulled it over. “Okay, but be careful, kid. Don’t leave your drink unattended. If you do, do not drink it. If you need me or you wanna go or anything.. Text me, please?”
“Lita, I’m not an actual child. I’m not that much younger than you.”
“You’re sheltered though. And given that I practically had to beg your mom to let you sign with the company in the first place…” Lita cringed at the thought of having to deal with Cheyenne’s loving but oh so very overprotective mother if anything were to happen to Cheyenne while she was on the road.
Cheyenne pouted and then sighed and nodded, giving her friend a sheepish smile. “Okay, alright, just go! Tonight is Valentines, you need to be inside there, with your man. Not trying to play mother hen with me.”
Lita eyed her friend and reluctantly, she turned and went inside, leaving Cheyenne to sit there, staring off into the distance. It was better than watching all the happy couples around her.
The band launched into a warm up set and it was all Cheyenne could do not to stand and jump over the half wall surrounding the patio of the bar and just bolt for her life. They weren’t the worst but… They definitely were not the best. She couldn’t believe Lita was putting her ears through all this for Edge, if she were to be perfectly honest.
“To each their own, I guess?” Cheyenne mused to herself as she waved over a drink server and placed an order. While she was busy doing that, she didn’t notice the guy lingering nearby, staring a hole through her practically. Until she turned and gave the guy an awkward wave trying to passively point out that his staring was making her uncomfortable.
He seemed to think that naturally, any interaction on her part meant she was desperate or lonely and it was his duty as a man to come over and talk. Just the thought had her rolling her eyes and bracing herself for not only now having her ears blasted with whatever this band called themselves doing, but having to find the best way to politely get the man sitting near her to leave her alone.
“I was kind of waiting on someone.”
“I can sit here til they get here. Pretty lil thing like you doesn’t need to be alone.”
... and you’re gonna save me from what, exactly? Because you’re literally the exact kind of man I prefer to avoid… the thought came but for once, Cheyenne didn’t say it. She could smell the booze on the guy and she didn’t want to risk it.
Or put him on his ass and get thrown out.
XXX
Jeff wandered the sidewalk aimlessly. It was one of those restless nights for him, so he figured he’d go do some sightseeing, maybe he’d find a bar and have a few drinks.
… maybe you’ll find the bar Edge took Lita and Cheyenne to… maybe you’ll casually bump into her and maybe this time, it won’t be a total failure… the thought took hold and Jeff found himself standing on the sidewalk, jade-colored eyes scanning in front of him and glancing back behind him. It was while he was doing this that he happened to spot her.
Or at least, he hoped it was her.
Was it bad that he was so into Cheyenne that he knew her by the back of her head? Jeff shrugged the thought from his mind. Then he happened to catch a glimpse of the bored expression on her face as delicate fingers drummed impatiently on top of the table. The man next to her was going on and on and on and he could practically feel the tension radiating off of Cheyenne from where he stood on the sidewalk below.
There was only one logical thing to do and Jeff Hardy did it. He scaled the half wall, clearing his throat from behind Cheyenne. Cheyenne jumped a little but turned around, her cheeks heating in a pale pink flush under Jeff’s intent and fond gaze. The corners of his mouth turned upwards in that cocky lopsided smile and Cheyenne bit her lip, fidgeting a little in her chair.
“This seat’s taken.”
“Yeah, if you mean by me, then sweet.” Jeff stood up, shoulders squared, doing everything he could to make himself seem like a threat to this stranger who was apparently making Cheyenne so tense. The guy wasn’t moving and Jeff stepped closer. “Am I not makin myself clear or somethin? I basically just told ya to get lost.”
“Jeff.” Cheyenne coaxed, her fingers curling around his wrist. The man stared him down and chuckled, nodding to Cheyenne. “Hey, if you wanna take a cold lay tonight, go ahead man.”
Jeff gave a quiet growl and shoved at the other man, putting his back against a palm tree. “A hint for the future, jackass.. If a woman looks like she’d rather be lit on fire than talk to ya, maybe just fuck off. And when a guy shows up and they obviously know one another, the polite thing to do is leave. Unless you just particularly enjoy pain.”
Having said his piece, he let the other guy go, sending him to the deck in a heap. Jeff sprawled down in his chair, legs spread, hands interlocked behind his head. “God, do I hate me an asshole.”
Cheyenne gave a soft laugh and took a deep breath.
Now maybe if Edge were offering to text Jeff, Cheyenne found herself thinking, maybe I’d have been interested. She held out her drink to him and he took it, chuckling when he realized there wasn’t even a hint of alcohol, it was literally just Sprite with cherries floating around in it.
Jeff cringed as the lead singer of the band hit a particularly bad high note and he shook his head. “Sounds like a bag full of dyin cats up there.”
“Exactly? I mean for fucks sake… What is this music, even?” Cheyenne laughed as she took her red cup back from Jeff and took a sip of her own, reaching in to pluck a cherry out with her fingers, raising it to her lips. As she chewed the fruit thoughtfully, Jeff watched her. The way the string lights and paper lanterns overhead washed her face in brilliant hues of red and orange and blues and purples. The way the light reflected off of her Doors concert tee shirt. He nodded to the shirt and in lieu of an ice breaker, he remarked casually, “That’s a good band, darlin.”
“Oh god, yes. The best.”
“ I know how to play a couple of their songs. Prefer writin my own though.”
Cheyenne bit her lip and swallowed hard because it was becoming crystal clear that Lita was… absolutely right about her. She had a clearly defined type.
And Jeff Hardy happened to fit that type like a glove. … obviously that’s why I have such a huge thing for him.. the thought came and went and Cheyenne found herself scooting a little closer, staring up at him as he launched into some crazy story about a time he’d done a talent show back in his hometown and his pants fell on stage and then his guitar string broke in the same set.
Jeff realized she was staring and he started to apologize, thinking his rambling was only boring her further, but she shook her head and giggled softly, leaning in a little more, shifting her entire body to face him. “No, no… Don’t stop.”
… if you say you can listen to him all night long… don’t you fucking dare embarrass yourself… and almost as if by default, the second she opened her mouth, the very thing that came out after urging him not to stop was a particularly brazen “ you realize your accent is a panty dropper, right?”
And yes, she automatically put her head down on top of her arms and groaned quietly at her actually saying it aloud. Jeff chuckled to himself and took the opportunity while she had her head down to lean in a little and mutter next to her ear, “See, darlin.. when you say things like that.. Kind of gets me all sorts of curious.”
She gasped as his mouth brushed right against her earlobe and sat up in her chair. “Oh? Well then, what are you curious about, hm?”
Jeff leaned in, that cocky and lopsided grin only growing a little more. “More than you can ever answer for me in one night, darlin.. But, we can start workin on that by getting outta here..” his fingertip rested against her lower lip and he gave a quiet chuckle when it quivered at the touch and she sucked in a sharp breath. “And I can take ya somewhere quiet… We’ll watch the stars. I can even play you a song if you want me to.”
She leaned in even closer. “What are we waiting on, Jeff?”
“Nothin at all, darlin. Anytime you’re ready.” Jeff stood and held out his hand. Cheyenne took hold of it and he pulled her up, scooping her into his arms as they found a back way out of the little bar….
60 notes
·
View notes
Four of Swords
Destiel, 7.1k, M, Ao3 link
Super happy I can finally share what me and my amazing partner, @maleyah-givemetomorrow, cooked up for the @supernaturaltropecelebration
Hope you all enjoy! (story below, but if you go to ao3 there’ll be pretty pictures - I definintely recommend viewing them and showing love to the artist!)
The Four of Swords, in the present position, means you don't want to interact with the rest of the world. Because of stress, you need to spend some time with yourself - unhealthy always being 'on'. That the healthiest thing to do is to escape.
Dean might crave escape, but it's not something he thinks he can have. Something he deserves, even. After his and Sam's most recent hunt, this cancerous feeling has grown heavy and weighs him down. He cannot escape on his own, as best he tries.
Luckily a guardian 'former angel' angel swoops in at his lowest. Helps pick up the pieces as best he can and lovingly put them back together. But he can only do so much. The rest is up to Dean.
Can Dean take those final steps, say those final words, and finally free himself?
His leg bounces, foot playing with the pedal while forcing the speedometer past its limits. Fingers squeeze the wheel tight enough he knows will leave permanent indents in the leather. Dean feels, more acutely than ever, how small his car’s interior is. Her cabin walls closing in around like the Death Star’s trash compacter. Aided by Sam’s ever-present stare, weighted by all the questions Dean will not let him ask. Forbade with a shake of his head and a rough flick of the ignition.
The sun creeps past the horizon, morning rudely greeting them. Beams of light pierce the glass, its glare interfering with his driving. Dean swings a heavy paw up towards the visor and pulls down, hard. It blocks most of the sun but gives Dean a worse distraction.
His gaze strays from the road to the tiny mirror embedded within the visor. Bounces around the borders of his face, studying the features and additions. Green eyes burdened with purplish bags. Dirt smudged around his hairline, disappearing into his short, mussed locks. Scratches peppered his cheeks like freckles, and the dried blood around his lips looks almost comical. Like he overlined them with an ugly shade of lipstick, clownlike and surreal.
“You’re drifting.”
Sam tugs the wheel closer, straightening their car. Dean wills back the discomfort of having Sam’s hand covering his. Of the memory, hours ago, where their layered hands held different context. Pushing. Praying. Reaching for a spark of Dean that nearly drowned and was lost forever. He shakes his head, focusing on the road again. “Thanks,” he says once his brother’s hand drifted away.
They reach the Bunker minutes later, Dean parking between the green Hudson and silver Chrysler. Both collecting dust. Dean checks his phone – 8:34 a.m. 3 missed calls, 8 unanswered texts. He swipes for the message thread, not reading any of the grey bubbles and typing a simple message. Back. Then Dean drops it in an empty cupholder and lays his head on the wheel.
Exhaustion drips along his bones like slime, filling the spaces between joints. His muscles broadcast their pain in full stereo, working in tandem with his brain. Each twinge a reminder of what happened. What he did and what he almost became.
Someone howls. It is far, but familiar. It sounds like – home? Belonging? Right? More noise, this time closer. Snarling. Snarling and growling. His jaw shudders and bends, reforming. A fire crackles under his skin, urging him forward. Follow the call. Follow the scent. Smell that, hear that, it is all so… pure. Free. You are free. Trust your instincts.
“Fuck,” he hisses. Dean presses his dirty nails into his palms, a reminder of their usual bluntness. Definitely not sharp enough to pierce the skin. He can’t hurt anyone else with them. “Fuck…”
Sam shifts at his side, hovering. Worrying. “Dean –“
“Not now, Sammy,” he says. Dean sucks in a large breath, fixing his armor. Raises his head off the steering wheel, staring out the window. “I’m not ready, not yet.” He wasn’t ready when they watched the barn disappear behind them, burning, smoke drifting into the starless night. When they stopped at the motel so Sam could collect their stuff while Dean idled in the parking lot. When Sam exploded halfway between Denver and Cheyenne, drool wet on his chin, and still unprepared when he apologized minutes later.
He didn’t deserve his damned forgiveness.
“Just…” Dean breathes, shivering, “go.”
The car door opens and shuts with soft clicks. Dean watches his brother stumble over half-asleep legs to the exit, Sam’s gait heavy and awkward. He pauses under the archway. His head tilts slowly right, and Dean tears his eyes from the rearview mirror. Dean counts the beats of his heart, waiting. After thirty he checks the rearview and Sam is gone.
Flinging himself out the car, Dean falls on hands and knees while his stomach revolts. He coughs, splutters, and heaves with all the force he can muster. There’s not a lot in his stomach but it surges up, splattering against the floor. Mixes with the blood and dirty already staining his fingers. His nausea passes the crest and recedes, body nearly purged. He spits into the bile, running his tongue over the waxy film coating his teeth. Gross, but not enough. The taste lingers.
Right there. Follow the fear, the rapid breathing – babumbabumbabumbabum. There is sweetness in victory, in the thrill of chasing. No escape, only death. Screams cut short when you tear through the throat. Chestnut fur matted with blood, goes down smooth. Delicious. Filling.
Dean winces at the mess. “Not cleaning that up,” he says, “at least not now.” With his remaining strength, Dean drags his body up. Leans on his car for a moment, then walks away with the door still open and with bags in the trunk. He cannot remember if he left the key in the ignition, nor does he care if he did.
There are more pressing matters that need attending.
He wanders with intention, drifting past rows of doors until he reaches the shower room. Dean turns, slowing to a shuffle and then a full stop once halfway inside. Head bowed, he focuses on the contrast between his mud-caked boots and the pristine tiles ruined by his intrusion. Squints and sees a twig lodged in the loop of his lace. Looks closer and sees a small pawprint left immortalized on the material.
In one bite the head tears completely off, blood spurting up from the severed neck. Sprays his face while he chews. Dean smiles, teeth catching the droplets and licking them clean off. He greedily stuffs the rest of its small body into his mouth, then licks his hands. Uncurling from the forest floor, he continues on. There is a call he needs to answer.
Dean hears the twig snap while clawing at the laces. He throws his left boot to the side, followed by his right. Peels his socks off and does the same. The second round of dizziness descends as the cool floor coaxes a more measured response from him. Sighing, Dean closes his eyes and continues stripping.
Even blind, Dean knows what he throws away. A yellow plaid button-down ripped across the back. Brown t-shirt crusty with dried blood all over the front. Jeans camouflaged in various stains, held up by a belt that worked in saving him from succumbing. And underwear that, while clean, were rather unwanted in the moment.
Goosepimples rise along the blades of his shoulders, rushing up his neck and over his back. Dean shakes, crosses his arms and tucks his chin against his chest. “Come on,” he says, bouncing on his feet, “In and out… you’ll feel much better.” He steps forward and then returns to where he was. “You’ll feel better and clean and – and like yourself again.”
“This is who you were truly meant to be…” His voice purrs, sparks firing off pleasurably in his brain. A rough tongue licks up his neck, and Dean nuzzles the hand petting his cheek. “Who we were always meant to be… give into your instincts, my pet. Give into yourself…”
“Dean what are – oh! I’m sorry!” He whips around and finds Cas standing in the doorway. Hands squeezing the towel, eyes trained upwards and not ahead like they must have been moments ago. The blush on his cheeks clueing him in. “I thought, when you said you were home, you’d be in bed…”
Dean rakes his gaze over the other man’s body. At the scruff in serious need of shaving, unkempt along his jaw and overrunning his neck. The oversized t-shirt, tie-dyed in various shades of oranges, reds, and yellows. A graphic from a Led Zeppelin album ironed on from a collection Dean found at a garage sale, given over because the angel reminded him of Cas. His shirt’s hem overhangs and covers half of the shorts he wears, hairy calves fully on display.
A year into humanity and Dean marvels at how he stays so heavenly.
“No,” he says, “don’t feel much like sleeping…” Then Dean drifts his focus away from the other man and back to the shower stalls. Empty and waiting. In a few seconds he could wash the entirety of yesterday into the drains, dirtied water swirling at his feet. Scrape any trace of the wildness with soap and scalding, hot water. Keep at it, until the knot in his chest unraveled finally.
Dean stiffens. Someone brushed his arm. Cas squeezes, whispering, “Are you going to shower?”
He nods. Steps forward, and again. And collapses at the mouth of the shower, scrabbling for the curtain and ripping it from the rod. Dean gasps, the harsh sound echoing in the room, and curls in on himself. The cheap plastic crinkles and sticks to his skin, blanketing his thighs. One of the metal rings completely tore and now digs into his stomach. Cas calls for him, but his voice is distant.
“We can start anew once your transformation is complete. I can hear it inside you, Dean. There’s a killer in there waiting to be unchained. Let me free you from the prison society forced you in, allow your true self to roam, empowered in its glory and righteousness. You’ll be my right hand in my new pack. All that’s left, is for you to break the final lock…”
“Dean, Dean I need you to say something,” Cas presses a warm hand into his back, kneading the clammy skin. “Please… I know not to hope for anything good but at least tell me you’re here, with me.”
“I’m here,” he murmurs, “I’m… I’m here.” More of a reminder than an answer. Dean blinks, leaving the acrid stench of death for faint, lemon cleanser. Shadows and dim lighting for humming fluorescents. False promises for strong foundations. “I’m here,” Dean says again, sliding his hand from the curtains to Cas’s, the other hanging at his side. Squeezes at his wrist. “Thanks.”
“It’s no problem,” Cas huffs, sizing Dean up. He shrinks under his gaze, conscious of how he must look. “Do you want to –“
“No.”
Cas nods, as if expecting it. “You want to clean yourself up?” Dean shrugs. He clucks, fingers skimming his hairline on a wide rub. “Look as if you’ve glued yourself to the underside of your car and had Sam drive across any backroads he found.” The joke inspires Dean’s dimples to appear, and Cas’s overly proud smile forces a small chuckle. “Are you able to stand?”
“I think I can manage…” Dean winces, the plastic shower curtain peeling off him. Cas keeps his face steady, not even a flicker of interest in peeking as it falls, when Dean exposes himself. A superficial wound. Fortunately Cas’s hand on his back and the other, now holding his, stay and help him up. He wobbles on shaky legs but won’t fail. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Cas tells him, thumb tickling his pulse point, “do you want me to give you privacy?”
He swallows his tongue. Or rather, something living inside his throat snatches it and prevents him from speaking. Dean glances at the shower, dread crawling forth once more. The scant space between him and the handle stretches, vision tunneling. He wants nothing more, if only the thought of it didn’t paralyze him. Cas murmurs at his side. “What?” he chokes out.
“I might have an idea,” Cas says, “that is… if you’re okay with me seeing you like… like this?”
Dean raises a wry brow. “Does it matter?” he asks, “You already have.”
“Just being polite…” Cas moves away from him, Dean following for a beat until he stops himself. The other man looks to the door, than at him. He scoops his forgotten towel, dumped on the floor at some point in the past few minutes, and offers it to him. “Here.”
“Like I said, Cas –“
“I know,” he interrupts, “but I doubt you want to walk the halls like that, where at any point Sam could stumble on you and… assume.” A hell of an assumption. Favorable too, he thinks. Dean blushes and bites his lip. He accepts the towel, lazily wrapping it around his waist. Not bothering to tuck it, holding it with his hands so they wouldn’t hang without purpose. Cas finally dips his gaze towards his crotch and relaxes. “Okay,” he says, “follow me.”
They leave the shower room, Dean practically hitting Cas’s heels with how closely he trails the other man. Enough that he could swing his arm and accidentally brush his hip. He won’t, though the possibility is tempting.
It’s not a far enough walk for that.
Cas turns the corner and leads Dean to the second door on the right. “I found this awhile back, early on in our stay here and carried it to this room one day when you were out.” He opens it for him, gesturing inside with a lackluster flourish. “Glad I did, don’t know how I would have managed without my angel strength.”
Dean steps inside, searching. There is not much waiting for him. Smaller than most rooms, he can imagine it being a closet with ease. Spots the tiny holes where screws must have been. Hidden in the outlines of where shelves once were. “Didn’t know you were handy.”
“I learn fast.”
“I’ll say,” Dean says, “plumbing’s a bitch to do.” He smirks at the large, stainless steel faucet. There’s another outline underneath against the wall that marks where a sink used to be. Removed so the porcelain, clawfoot tub can rest. “You take baths?”
“When I can,” Cas tells him, “I find it very healing. Even when I could mend broken bones and turn jagged cuts into flawless, smooth skin with my grace, I found myself drifting here every now and then, sitting for a soak.”
Dean taps at the rim of the bathtub, pouting. “And you brought me here, thinking I want to…” He doesn’t finish, instead studying the other man. Watches how the innocent question rocks the boat of his good intentions. Cas pouts, folds his arms and scuffs his toe on the floor. Dean softens, “Thank you.”
“…You’re welcome,” he shifts, turning his back, “Now, do you want to get in? I find that when you twist the handle on the right, the water is warmer.”
He waits. Panic rises, thinking Cas might leave. Worse that he can’t find it in him to ask that he stay. But then Cas settles, staring at the closed door. Dean smiles and starts the faucet.
When the bathtub is halfway full Dean climbs in. His knees poke from up out of the water, too tall to stretch his legs. He slides in further, so the water laps at his chin and more leg is on display. Already it fogs over, a filmy layer swirling on the surface. Dean cups some of the water and splashes it on his face, all too aware of much red drips. “I’m as decent as I can be,” he calls, splashing.
Cas sighs. “How does it feel?”
“S’nice,” he shrugs, “Not that I get to do this often but…” Dean sees Cas walk over, grabbing at a nearby bucket. “What are you doing?”
“Helping,” Cas says, dropping the bucket. He kneels, presenting a washcloth and a soap bar he must have pulled from below.
“Aw, no Cas,” Dean starts, sliding into a low crouch. Braced on the edges of the bathtub. “You don’t have to –“
“Please, Dean,” Cas whispers. Two fingers rest over his knuckles, feather light and barely there. “Let me do this for you… after what you must have gone through…”
Dean will not break his staring contest with his navel, sure that if he glanced in Cas’s direction another episode like the one in the shower room will happen. “Fine,” he mutters, plopping back into the tub and spraying Cas with a few errant drops. “If you want, go right ahead.” His arms encircle his knees, stricken expression hidden. Sitting in the center of the bathtub, Dean never felt so small.
Cas carries on wordlessly. Runs the soap under the faucet before turning it off. It’s filled to about a few inches from the rim, any sudden movement able to cause a good spill. Which is why Cas talks him through the steps. Like a skittish animal, provoked at the tiniest snap of a twig or rustling leaves.
Defenseless. Unaware. Fattening itself for the lucky prey that happens across it. His lips peel back for his teeth to appear, spit dripping from them. His fingers lead him forward, nails glinting when the moonlight breaks through the foliage and hits them. One clumsy step and what sounds like a gunshot echoes in his ears. It stops. Then it sprints off. So does he, a fraction of a second later. The chase begun. He huffs, he smiles, he growls. Hungry.
Dean hisses when the cloth rubs over a badly healed wound, reopening it. “Sorry,” Cas says, dabbing the spot again and pouring some water from a cupped hand over the skin. “I didn’t see – I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Cas.” He offers a wobbly smile, shrugging. “It’s okay.”
Cas grimaces, Dean staring on the thin, chapped line. Better than blue spotlights running across his face. Soon his lips smooth into something more neutral, and Cas resets.
He focuses on how the washcloth feels, Cas lathering soap across him. Doesn’t fight when he grabs Dean’s arm and holds it up, running the fabric over and leaving soap bubbles in its track. There’s a jagged cut slashed across his knuckles from a misplaced lunge. Cas, prepared, gently dabs at it. His hold is firm and touch careful.
Too careful. Too caring. The special treatment makes his skin crawl. Dean winces again as Cas drags the washcloth along his shoulder blades and onto his other arm. “Sensitive?” Cas asks, because he notices. Add too observant, too. “Days like these make me miss my powers.”
Dean snorts, “So you could fly on out of here without any problems?” That escapes easier than he would like. He curses under breath, sneaking a peek at Cas. Like Dean expected, Cas’s expression makes his heart sink into his stomach. “Shit, sorry…”
“I don’t need wings to ‘fly on out of here’,” he says, “if I wanted, I could get on a plane tomorrow.” Cas finishes lathering his arm and soaps his chest. Rubs the washcloth over and over his tattoo. Its ink vibrating erratically because of his words, the possibility, and Cas’s closeness “The operative term being wanted. What I want right now is… well, I want you to not feel any pain.”
But he should. It’s all he should feel. Dean deserves the pain. For yesterday, what he almost did. For now, what he callously said to Cas. For years and years of causing so much hurt and enjoying it and taking pride in it. He should drown in all this pain. Instead he has an angel bathing him in kindness.
He tries every day to be better than his darkest moment. When he and Cas stared across at each other, fully ruptured. Dean throwing more dynamite into the divide until the ground crumbled beneath their feet and the landscape of their relationship was unrecognizable. After Purgatory he made a promise. His pain should remain with him, not forced into the hands of others.
Some days they wriggle, others they slip. Dean tries every day. If only every day, he succeeded.
Cas washes his face, leaning half over the tub so there’s barely a breath of space between them. A simple turn and their noses brush together. He cannot do more than breath, sharp puffs out his mouth. Sometimes muffled when Cas wipes at the dried blood marking the skin around it.
It’s too much.
“I almost killed Sam.” Cas pauses, frozen at the corner of Dean’s lips. Some of the soap drips into his mouth, and he can taste it. “Yesterday, on the hunt I… I almost killed him.”
His brain steams ahead, thinking how Cas might wish for the plane ticket now that he knows. Imagines him dropping the washcloth into his hands and leaving without a word. Again, wiping his hands of Dean’s garbage and climbing out the hole before any more shovels in to bury him.
Instead Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s hair, smiling. “Tell me what happened.”
His walls crumble immediately. Dean savors the touch while he begins his story. Cas already knew the beginning – driving into a town beset by murders, where killers left heartless bodies for the police. Rolled in with the script memorized, asking all the right questions. Found the pack’s den and attacked. “We said we got all of them,” Dean sighs, ducking his head, “but that wasn’t the whole truth.”
The leader escaped. They only realized it when counting the bodies, battle too confusing that losing track of one werewolf in a dozen was unavoidable. Risky in their line of work, but a quick perimeter search kicked up no trace of him. Dean and Sam closed the case, driving off to the motel and licking their wounds.
“I was careless, or… or I don’t know, didn’t think much of it but…” Dean holds his arm up and looks at it. There’s no mark on the skin, but he traces the bite from memory. “Got me when I wasn’t looking. By the time I knew what was happening it was like I… like something had come over me. I heard howling and I tore off after it. Sam coming back to an empty motel room with a broken lock.”
If he stays too long in his memories, he will lose himself in them again. Racing through the woods with newfound agility and grace. Jumping, launching himself over fallen trees and boulders. What it felt like ripping apart the first woodland creature he crossed paths with. The soapy taste in his mouth turns sour.
“The leader was crazy… had this whole philosophy that I believed because he said it and all I could think was how much I trusted him. Thinking was too difficult while all fanged out and slobbering and – and so when he said to trust my ‘instincts’ I… I bared my neck. His instincts were my instincts. By that point Sammy snuck in, and – well protect is a pretty strong instinct.”
Sam plead, rallying all his strength so Dean’s claws wouldn’t eviscerate him. Dean straddled his brother, raging. Spat on him while gnawing for his neck. The last werewolf cheering Dean on. “Free yourself of your human burdens and join me in total freedom!” he sang, “Eat of his heart and you will be mine forever!”
“You don’t want this Dean,” Sam said, struggling. The syringe nearby looking damaged but not completely broken. “I know you. Fight him!”
Dean growled, “Want… want free… want blood!”
Sam sneered, tightening his grip on Dean’s wrists. He shifted and kicked Dean off. Dean flipped, landing on his back. They both scrambled upright, not wasting any time. With misguided fury Dean pounced for Sam, his brother twisting at the right second. Their fight continued in that fashion. Sam dodging Dean’s attacks, the latter growing more frustrated and sloppier.
Exactly what Sam planned.
Dean dove and smacked into a wall, knocking the breath from him. Stunned, Sam dove for his belt and slipped it over some exposed pipe. Not knowing any better, lost within the wolf, Dean struggled helplessly until brute strength won.
By the time Dean ripped the pipe from the wall Sam killed his sire. Injected Dean with the cure when he scurried towards the corpse and mourned. When all traces of his bite left Dean’s system, he mourned again. Sam standing overhead, watching, unable to lay a hand on his shoulder lest Dean bite at it in his familiar defensiveness.
“So Sam is fine?”
He bristles at the placid tone. Unbothered. Like Dean mentioned some off-hand piece of gossip that he happened across while scrolling through his phone. “Yeah,” Dean says harshly, “but I… I almost did him in. Nearly ate his heart before skipping off with some werewolf Charles Manson to start another werewolf cult and...”
Cas raises a brow. “And?”
Processing the events aloud help him realize how wildly he overreacted. How Sam clearly held no anger towards him for being on the menu. How there’s no reason for the inky sadness clinging to his heart and soul that makes him feel bad.
Except it’s there, and having no reason makes it even worse.
“And…” he fumbles, “And I think I’m getting too old for this.” Dean huffs, sinking against the bathtub while Cas continues petting him. “I’ve been doing this for what? Nearly forty years? That was how it’s going to end… Because I let that werewolf creep bite me and nearly turn me into his slave? Kind of makes everything I said about free will look like I pulled it from my ass.”
Cas chuckles, laying the washcloth on the porcelain rim. He pulls back, laying both arms along the edge and resting on it. Smirking, “No one will call you a hypocrite because you were under the influence of a werewolf bite.”
“Yeah, but…” Dean sighs, “I’m supposed to be better than this.”
“If I’ve learned anything from my time on Earth – from you – is that sometimes we have our off days,” Cas says, “We have to forgive ourselves for them.”
“Maybe if I tripped and scratched Baby’s paint or-or took a risk on some leftovers I don’t remember, sure,” he scoffs, “but when it comes to hunts… an off day can easily become my last day. Hunters don’t get off days. Heroes don’t… don’t…” He digs his nails into his knee, willing away the waterfall hovering around the edges of his eyes.
“Well, as true as that is, the fact you were able to see the sun rise means yesterday definitely wasn’t your last day.” The faint traces of humor in his tone barely lifts the corners of Dean’s mouth. Cas sighs. A few droplets splashing at Dean’s exposed leg, his hand now gently splashing the water. “I stand by what I said. Yes, you could’ve been more observant during your battle. And more conscious of your injuries. Then neither you nor Sam would still carry what should have been a simple hunt on your shoulders.” Mentioning it makes his shoulders sag further. “But then again, I could be beating myself for staying here watching Netflix while you and Sam got your hands dirty –“
“You kidding, Cas?” Dean bursts in, brows furrowed, “The Hell should you feel bad for?”
“A third set of eyes could’ve seen the werewolf escape – or stop him before he did… make sure you were checked over for serious injuries…” His fingers circle lazily, Cas’s mouth tugged down in a way that unsettles Dean’s stomach.
Dean sits straighter, glaring at the other man. “You needed the rest, Cas. After that ghoul tore your back up something fierce in Missoula? Even if you knew you could do something, I’d still have kept you –“ The tirade cuts short, Cas’s prideful smirk stealing the words from him. He sinks into the water, so low that water hides his burning cheeks. Adjusts by fully removing his legs from the bathtub, bracing his feet on the wall. Faucet between them.
Cas chuckles, rustling Dean’s hair. “See. Hindsight is only good for the future, to learn from our mistakes. Time is better spent in the present. Accepting that you did the best you could and… glad there are people who care about you, who will do anything to see you feel better.”
Dean looks up at Cas, the overhead bulb shining. Mimicking the effect of a halo. He lifts his chin enough to free his mouth. “I don’t know how you can put up with my stubborn ass.” I don’t know why I deserve you.
“I recall you calling my ass stubborn many times.” I don’t deserve you.
They always end up circling the drain. Never quite going in, a piece of hair clogging the passage. Right now, with Cas petting Dean’s hair and gazing into his eyes, Dean exposed under him in more ways than one, it cannot get any more tender. It’s still not enough.
At the top of the peak, you can only go off. They never jump.
Dean knew his reasons. When it felt like they could, there was never enough time. Something more pressing to deal with, a battle to fight. Always promising that when the moment was right, Dean would do something. But then when those moments came Dean and Cas were never there for them. Kept apart by circumstance, by death, by each other. Compelling. Dramatic. Completely frustrating.
But then Chuck vanished, he and Amara – light and darkness, creation and destruction – becoming one. Becoming entirely new. Blinked off into somewhere that Dean doesn’t care knowing about. As long as, on their way out, they cut the strings hanging over their heads.
It seemed like it. Life went on, as normal. Monsters needed hunting and beer needed drinking. Except there wasn’t anything more.
Hell stayed relatively calm with Rowena reorganizing it. Jack, seated on the throne of Heaven, brought a righteous humanity in his leadership. Even Billie took a holiday.
When the dust settled, Dean was ready for Cas to be on his way, too. One was offered.
“Are you sure?” Jack asked, eyes still aglow. Hand raised inches from Cas’s bloodied head. “I can give it all back to you. Give you more… you’d be the most powerful angel in my new Heaven. You can help me make it even better than it was.”
“Thank you, but… I think it’s time you left the nest, Jack,” Cas smiled, stepping back from him. “Heaven is in capable hands because they’re yours… I… we trust that you can do this without us.”
Jack nodded, light snuffed. He dove into Cas’s arms, then, hugging him. Then Sam, and finally Dean. “I’ll visit when I can,” he promised, trying not to cry.
Dean coughed, swiping a finger under his eye. “Soon!” he barked, “I don’t want to see you when I’m eighty!” Their laughter was bittersweet. Fully bitter when Jack disappeared with a flap.
Sam scuffed the ground, turning. “So,” he said, “what do we do now?” He scanned the area, Dean tracking the same space alongside him. At the scorched earth, barely recognizable from when they arrived. Green drained away and left lifeless, with a few serious scorch marks in certain areas. Like the one near a cracked mausoleum, where Chuck threw Cas. Where he held him by the neck and spit serious venom. Where he drained the little angel grace he had left and made him human again.
Cas clears his throat, drawing their attention. “After a shower and a change of clothes,” he said, “I think some sort of celebration. At home.”
Dean’s heart skipped over itself. “Home,” he repeated, “Yeah, I like that.”
Cas chose and chose again, and his choice never wavered. It was Earth. It was humanity. It was him, and it was home.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Cas asks, frowning, “what are you thinking?”
Dean rises somewhat. “I love you.” He would rather he weren’t naked, nor shaken from a hunt. And a forgotten supply closet with a dirty bathtub in it is hardly the number one place for a confession. But waiting for perfection screwed him over so many times.
“Oh,” Cas relaxes against the bathtub, sinking his hand back into the water, “is that all?”
Or maybe he should have kept waiting. Dean pouts, “I love you.”
“I know. You’re repeating yourself.”
“No, like…” he drags a wet hand over his face, “I love you. Like, I love you love you.”
Cas chuckles, light and carefree. Lines around his eyes crinkling in delight. “I know, Dean. I know.”
Dean gapes, chin slapping the surface of his bath. “You have?” Spurred into action by Cas’s growing laughter, Dean sinks his legs into the tub and sits up again. “For real?” The other man nods. “How long?”
Cas shrugs, “Awhile.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Joy retreats from Cas’s expression, leaving him somewhat guarded. He breaks with Dean’s stare. His hand glides through water and finds Dean’s leg. Strokes it. “I thought nothing needed to be said.”
Dean raises a brow, clicking his tongue. “So you were happy with…”
“I was content.”
He frowns, courage leaping up inside his chest and banishing the lingering traces of sadness and self-pity clinging inside his chest. “Well, I wasn’t,” Dean says. Waits for Cas to look at him again. “Do you know how many times we sat together and I wanted to hold your hand, but didn’t? Roll over on my bed and wake up next to you only to remember that you were down the hall? Sit in a diner and-and when the waitress came by I could say, ‘I’ll have this and my boyfriend will have that’ but was only able to order for myself? I won’t even mention the amount of times I wanted to kiss you because at this point I’ve lost count…”
Cas squeezes Dean’s thigh, lips stretched wide in a tight grin. “You want all of that?”
“And more. A hell of a lot more.”
“Then… late is better than never, I suppose.”
Dean blinks, “What?”
He resumes stroking his leg, smiling so openly all his teeth are on display. “I’m saying,” he continues, “that if you want to do all that, I find myself being… amenable. We can even start now.”
“Are you sure?” Dean asks, too experienced with his luck that he knows he needs more. “Is this what you want? You said you were –“
“Content,” he says, “But not happy. Doing all of what you described – and more – will make me very happy.”
Dean smiles, “Really?”
“Ecstatic.” It’s so deadpan, so blasé, and completely incongruent with the mood of the room that Dean cannot stop the snort escaping from his lips. Followed by hiccupped giggles and, finally, laughter that echoes in the tiny space. Joined by Cas, their voices swell to fill the room. Until Dean snatches Cas’s collar with his wet fist and drags him in for a kiss. Closes his eyes and savors the taste of the other man, taking note of every sensation he guessed right and scribbling over what he got wrong with the parts he never could have imagined.
In the midst of their makeout session, when Cas presses their foreheads together and laughs about not needing a shower after all. Because Dean hauled him into the bathtub with him despite protests, water leaking onto the floor. When he can, without guilt, lose himself in Cas’s eyes, Dean remembers the werewolf from yesterday. Remembers what he thought freedom meant, and how the monster hadn’t the first clue what it actually was.
Freedom is not power. Freedom is being yourself. Freedom is the ability to show others the deepest parts of yourself and have them stay and love you for it. Freedom is acceptance.
Freedom is the way Cas’s fingers scratch at the nape of his neck. Freedom is Cas pressing lazy kisses against his cheek. Freedom is the way their feet knock into each other on the edge of the porcelain bathtub.
Dean, for the first time in his life, feels free.
Epilogue:
Midnight is a terrible hour to crave bacon. Time cannot stop Dean’s watering mouth or his growling stomach. He disentangled himself from Cas and blindly pieced together an outfit that, in the hallway’s clinical lighting, included his cowboy pajama bottoms, Cas’s dried shirt, and his robe. Dean shrugs and carries on his way towards the kitchen, hoping for a quick trip.
Seeing Sam hunched over at the table crushes that idea. He perks up at Dean’s entrance, faltering. Rises for a second before thinking better, instead fiddling with his coffee mug. “Dean.”
“…Sam.” Unsure, Dean’s own hands run rampant. Closes the robe and hides Cas’s shirt, tying a neat, little bow and securing it tighter. Then he unravels it and lets the robe swing open like curtains. “What’re you doing up?”
He shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep anymore. You?”
“Hungry.” Dean winces, the image of Sam struggling underneath him flashing into view. It fades almost as instantly as it arrived, replaced with a more annoyed looking brother. Mouth pulled taut like a bowstring, aimed and ready. Dean glances at the mug for safety. “You make enough for the class?”
“Check the pot.”
Shuffling over he sees more than enough coffee inside for him. So, he pulls out two mugs and prepares them. Three teaspoons of sugar in one, four tablespoons in the other. A dash of milk on the left, because Cas thinks it muddies the taste of the coffee. “Thanks.”
“Dean…”
His tone draws a quiet sigh from Dean. Settles the hunger that dominated his stomach and replaces it with a slight nausea. “Sam,” he says, “can you not…”
“We need to talk about it,” Sam continues, “Please, Dean, I –“
“We will.”
Sam pauses, stunned. Dean turns around and tamps down the laugh bubbling up. Hard given how rare Sam’s jaw drops so far. In the blink of an eye Sam shakes his surprise off. “What?”
“We will,” Dean repeats, leaning on the counter, “I promise. I just… I’m not ready, yet.”
It’s not the best answer. Sam doubts him, evident by the gleam in his eye. And the follow up, “Are you ever gonna be ready?”
His eyes never strayed from Dean’s face. If he dropped his gaze a few inches Sam would see Cas’s shirt. But he didn’t. Dean can rewrap the robe and pretend it’s not on him.
Except Dean hadn’t the urge. Instead he draws attention to it, rubbing the hem between his fingers. “Hopefully soon… Cas and I had a good talk and – and well, maybe in the morning I might be okay enough that we can sit and talk about it, or whatever…”
Sam finally looks at his shirt. Then at Dean with a subtle awe. He braces for an onslaught of feelings, exactly what Dean tried avoiding. Why he thought using Cas as a distraction from talking about those was a moment of delirium. Dean sips at his mug, hiding ruddy cheeks behind the rim.
Thankfully Sam says nothing. Instead mirroring his sip. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
Dean nods, drumming his fingers on the counter. There’s kindness in how Sam offers the escape tunnel, even though so much is brewing under the surface. A rarity that Dean never expected. He should take it.
But there’s more. Dean figures ripping the band-aid off all at once is better than peeling it and feeling every single hair torn from his arm.
“I think I’m gonna stop hunting,” he says. Sam spits a mouthful of coffee into his mug, choking. “For a while,” Dean quickly explains, “Like, maybe a few months?”
Coughing, Sam wipes at his lips. “Is this because of the werewolf hunt?”
“Yes?” Dean says, “No – I mean… Look, it’s not because I’m too scared to get back into the game because of what happened but I am kind of… skittish?” He frowns, staring at the light brown pool in his hands. “Like I’m running on empty and… and I don’t think I have enough in the tank. That’s what happened yesterday, but thank God there was a little more in yours to get me to the next rest stop! Who knows what might happen on the next one so I… I’m making the adult decision and taking myself out of the game before the big loss.” Dean gulps at his coffee, throat suddenly dry. “But not forever,” he adds, “Long enough to sort things out… do the stuff we said we were gonna do when the Chuck mess ended. Maybe go on a road trip or, ah… give Cas a proper first date –“
“First date?” Sam croaks, a tiny snort escaping, “Think you two’ve past that by a few years. Third honeymoon, maybe.”
Dean rolls his eyes. “Yuck it up… but I’m not the only one who can use this opportunity to focus on important things… things that you’ve been neglecting… when’s the last time you and Eileen had any quality time together?” Sam answers with a blush. “Thought so… at least I’ve had two honeymoons, or so you think.”
“Shut up,” Sam huffs, drinking his coffee again. His gaze drifts from Dean over to the door, and the fluster drains off his face. Replaced with a more gleeful expression, lips curling. “Hey Cas,” he sings, “how’s it going?”
Dean accepts all the awkward energy Sam shed. His grip on the coffee mug falters when he sees Cas. Dressed in a stolen pair of sweatpants and nothing else. “Sam, Dean,” he yawns, shuffling closer. Cas squints at the untouched mug on the counter, “Is this for me?”
“Yeah,” Dean says, handing it over, “just the way you like.” Cas purrs, kissing Dean’s cheek before sipping. Sam's chuckles accompany his approval. “It wasn’t too much of a problem…”
“So, Cas,” Sam starts, “what got you out of bed?”
Cas scratches his head and presses against Dean. Slides an arm around Dean’s waist. “Pee,” he says, “and then I noticed Dean wasn’t there so…” If Cas didn’t drive the point home clear enough Dean would worry after his brother’s intelligence. He feels Cas’s chin rest on his shoulder. “Why did you get up?”
Dean gestures at the stove. “Hungry.”
“Hmm… I can eat.” Cas taps on Dean’s stomach, pushing off. He moves and joins Sam at the table. “Whatever you were going to make yourself, make double?”
“Triple?” Sam adds, “All this talk of food is making me hungry.”
“Yeah, yeah…” Dean flicks the stove on, dropping the pan on the active burner. His hunger returned, aided by the easy conversation flowing between the three. Cas settles across from Sam asking a question about something he read. The conversation quickly devolves into nerd speak, Dean throwing quips in every few seconds.
He lays a strip of bacon down, and then another one. And another one. Greases a second pan and cracks an egg on the surface, tossing one half of the shell at Sam and the next half at Cas. They retaliate by pelting him when he retreats to the refrigerator for more bacon. Dean doesn’t care that they hit, nor that he steps on one and has to spend time between the eggs frying and the bacon cooking to pick pieces of eggshell off his heel. What he cares about sits giggling at the table, watching while he cleans.
Dean is happy.
17 notes
·
View notes
Tests of Faith
A year has passed since IWTB. Life has carried on and some worries and memories have come calling.
“I’ll be back to see how you’re doing later this afternoon, okay?” Scully said with a smile, touching one of her youngest patients, Katie Thompkins, on the shoulder. She nodded at her parents, rubbing her mother’s arm quickly, before she walked out the door.
Walking down the hallway, she sighed, pushing her hair from her eyes, and stopped walking. Dizziness and then a wave of nausea washed over her and she feared she might be sick. Goosebumps rose up and she felt instantly sweaty, a sure sign that vomiting was inevitable.
Walking quickly to the nearest bathroom, she was glad to find it empty as she hurried into the largest stall and locked the door behind her. Dropping to her knees in front of the toilet, she emptied her stomach, which was not hard to do as she had not eaten yet that day, save for some coffee and a quarter of a muffin.
Retching until she was only dry heaving, she flushed the toilet and rested against the wall. Breathing deeply, she walked out of the stall and rinsed her mouth and washed her hands. Wetting a paper towel, she used it to dab at the back of her neck and then down the front.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she shook her head, not wanting to face the thoughts swirling around in her head. Dabbing the paper towel quickly to her forehead and cheeks, she tossed it in the trash. Looking in the mirror again, she fixed her hair, trying to keep it all contained in the ponytail, but pieces still slipped out. Taking a deep breath, she stepped away from the sink and out the door.
She kept her eyes down as she walked down the hall to find the items she needed to quiet her racing thoughts. Making sure no one was looking, she grabbed a blood collection kit and put it in her coat pocket. Finding an empty room, she closed the door and sat down. Taking the items out, she lay them on the exam table.
Quickly, she readied her arm and placed the needle in, filling a small tube with blood and bandaging her arm. Cleaning up, she tossed everything in the biohazard container and slipped the blood sample into her coat pocket, her heart pounding. Steeling herself, she opened the door and left the room.
She walked down to the lab, looking for one of the technicians she had recently worked with and liked. Seeing her, she walked over, holding tight to the small vial
“Good morning, Cheyenne. How are you today?” she asked her with a smile.
“Doctor Scully! Good morning! How are you?” Cheyenne smiled at her and Scully could not help but laugh softly. She was a newer technician, with big green eyes and shoulder length reddish hair. She always had different funny pins on her lab coat and wore a fantastic shade of red lipstick Scully knew she would never be able to pull off.
“I’m fine, Cheyenne, thank you. I uh, I have a favor to ask of you, if you don’t mind.” She took the blood sample out of her coat pocket and handed it to Cheyenne. “Could you run a test on this for me?”
“Absolutely. Am I looking for anything in particular?”
“Yeah. Could you run a quantitative hCg test?” Cheyenne looked at her, and Scully held her gaze.
“There’s not a name on it, Doctor Scully,” she said quietly, her eyes concerned.
“No,” she said, looking down. Lowering her voice, she glanced up again. “It’s… it’s mine and… I don’t think it will be positive, but I’d like you to run it to be sure. And I’d appreciate it being kept quiet, hence the lack of a name. Please.” Cheyenne looked down at the vial and back to her with a nod.
“Okay, I can do that,” she said quietly. “Give me a few hours.” Scully touched her arm and nodded.
“Thank you.” Cheyenne nodded again and Scully smiled. Putting her hands in her coat pockets, she walked out of the lab and headed to her office.
Closing the door, she sat at her desk, putting her head in her hands. She took a deep breath and moved a hand to her stomach, knowing it was more than unlikely she was pregnant, and yet…
She had been feeling odd for the past couple of days: dizziness, loss of appetite. She had chalked it up to being overworked and overtired, but it had never reached the level it had that morning, causing her to vomit.
Rubbing her hand across her stomach, she tried to stop her tears but to no avail. She thought of how she felt before she found out she was pregnant with William; dizzy, passing out, the chills… the symptoms were very similar. Covering her face, she held onto her stomach, praying for what she did not know. It was a long shot. An impossible impossibility. But...what if it was not so impossible? She let the tears fall silently until she could breathe again.
Reaching for a tissue, she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She picked up the phone, intent on calling Mulder, but knowing she could not share any of this, not yet. She needed to be sure and she should tell him in person, regardless of what the test revealed. Placing the phone back in the cradle, she sighed and shook her head as she stood up. She opened the door, took a deep breath, and went to check on the rest of her patients.
The day passed by slowly. She was not dizzy again, and she made herself eat some food even though she did not feel hungry, her stomach too nervous as she waited for any news from Cheyenne.
Two patients were due for surgery the next day, and as a result there were many last minute questions and discussions. It helped to take her mind off her own worries, but not completely. Her eyes strayed to the clocks on the wall repeatedly, the hours ticking by at a snail’s pace.
Coming back to her office later in the afternoon, her shift nearly over, she paced the room knowing a result had to be ready soon. A knock at the door made her jump, and when it opened, Doctor Clark stepped in with a smile. Scully smiled back and as she began to speak, Cheyenne appeared in the doorway, and Scully’s breath caught.
“Oh! I’m sorry,” Cheyenne exclaimed, looking at them both, with a pointed look at Scully. “I was actually looking for Doctor Hastings. Someone said he was up here. It looks like they were mistaken, please excuse me.”
“It’s okay. I think I actually just saw him downstairs,” Doctor Clark said with a smile. Cheyenne nodded and turned to go, but then stopped and stared at Scully, giving her a very slight shake of her head, her eyes apologetic.
Cheyenne walked away and Doctor Clark continued speaking, but Scully did not hear her. She knew the test would not be positive, but she had hoped, at least a little. Nodding as Doctor Clark finished speaking, she gave her a strained smiled, praying this would end their discussion. Smiling in return, she walked out of the room, leaving Scully alone.
She closed the doors and slid to the floor, silently crying harder than she had earlier. Believing and knowing were two different things, and now that she knew, she felt broken. It was not fair. That little house of theirs should be filled with children learning about aliens and science.
But there were no children and there never would be, not again. One miracle child… that was all they had been allowed, and he…
Shaking her head, she pushed herself up, needing to leave. She quickly took off her lab coat, grabbed her gray jacket and her bag, and walked out the door.
She stopped at a park near the house and sat in the car, closing her eyes and running her hands over her stomach. It was foolish to even consider the possibility, but the same could be said for the last time. When the doctor had come in and smiled with the results of her blood tests, she had not believed him. In fact she had made him check again, needing to be absolutely sure.
But it had been true. She had been pregnant against all odds.
Opening her eyes, she saw a mom and her little girl playing on the play structure. They were bundled up against the evening chill and they both laughed as they ran around. She smiled sadly as she watched them, imagining herself doing something as simple as chasing William around, pushing him on the swings, and teaching him how to do it himself.
But the past could not be changed. She had done what she had to do to protect William- to protect all of them. It did not mean she did not question her decision, worry about him every day, or regret that she had not been strong enough to take care of him.
She sat for a few more minutes, watching the mother and daughter, and letting go of those thoughts, not wanting to discuss that particular subject with Mulder. No, he was a subject for car rides home alone, solitary showers, and late night worries as Mulder slept beside her. It hurt too much to vocalize the pain and so it stayed silent.
Mulder had been right; William had left them with an emptiness that could not be filled, and discussing it was too hard and they rarely attempted to do so.
Breathing deeply, she started the car and drove home, opening the gate when she arrived and shivering as she closed it and jumped back in the car. Pulling up the driveway, she parked and picked up her jacket and bag. Stopping at the door, she took a deep breath before she opened it.
It was warm inside and something smelled delicious, making her mouth water. Mulder was in the kitchen, music playing softly, as he hit his hands on the counter in time to the beat. She smiled, holding back tears, as she watched him and set her things down. Stepping over to him, she saw the table was set with candles already lit.
“Something smells good,” she said, smiling as he turned around in surprise.
“Hey! You’re home early. Are you?” He looked at his watch and then back at her. “You are early.”
“Are you not happy to see me here early?” she teased, and he stared at her in disbelief, reaching out to pull her close.
“You can’t possibly be serious,” he said, holding her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her temples. “Should I embarrass us both and tell you how much I miss you during the day?” She smiled and raised up on tiptoes to kiss him softly. He deepened the kiss, one hand moving to her hip, the other to the back of her head.
Pushing back, she smiled, glancing at the counter. “So, what smells so good in here?”
“Well, I went out and got some things for dinner. We haven’t shared an actual meal in awhile, and I wanted to change that.” He smiled, and she wrapped her arms around him, closing her eyes as she hugged him. “Thought maybe you’d appreciate a relaxing evening. You’ve been working a lot lately, and I wanted to do something to alleviate some of your worry and stress.” Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she nodded against his chest, squeezing him tightly.
“What’s on the menu?” she asked, stepping back, keeping her back turned as she quickly wiped at her eyes.
“Steak, baked potatoes, and a salad.” She turned around and raised her eyebrows at him as he wiggled his own.
“Well… I am impressed.”
“And…” He lifted a finger and walked to the refrigerator, opening it and showing her the two pieces of pie he had bought for dessert. She smiled, tears just below the surface, and nodded her approval.
“You never cease to amaze me,” she said, walking close and kissing him again. “How long until it’s ready?”
“Oh, I’d say, maybe twenty minutes?”
“Okay. I’m going to take a shower, put on some comfortable clothes, and I’ll be back down.”
“You got it, Doc.” He winked, stealing another kiss. “You wanna take a glass of wine up with you?” He pointed to the open bottle on the table, and she felt a moment of panic that she should not drink alcohol. Brushing that thought aside, she nodded, pouring a generous glassful, and walked upstairs.
Waiting for the shower to warm up, she downed half the glass before stepping inside and letting the falling water cover the sound of her tears.
Dressed in pajama pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and warm socks with her hair dried and loose, she came downstairs, her empty wine glass in hand. The table now held a bowl of salad and the foil wrapped potatoes. Mulder was carrying over the plates, each holding a piece of steak.
“Perfect timing. Take a seat.” He set her plate down as she sat down, putting her napkin in her lap. Setting his own down, he refilled her wine glass before sitting down beside her.
He served them each a bowl of salad and placed her potato on her plate. The music was still playing, but now it was something softer, almost jazzy. He grinned at her, pouring himself a glass of wine and nodding at her plate. She smiled and cut a piece of steak, finding it done to perfection.
They ate, discussing the day, with her leaving out her main worry. He recounted a story of his adventure at the grocery store and she smiled, but did not feel her heart was in it. He laughed at his story, obviously not sensing her discomfort.
“I’ll get these,” he said when they had finished, standing up and stopping her from doing the same.
“Mulder, you cooked, I can-”
“None of that. You were working all day, I wasn’t. You take this…” Pouring the last of the wine into her glass, he handed it to her, and smiled. “And go sit on the couch and relax. I got this.” She sighed as he walked past her, kissing the top of her head as he did.
She stood and watched him, singing along with the music as he scraped their plates and cleared the table.
“Go,” he said, gesturing with his chin. She nodded and decided she wanted to sit outside instead, craving the cool fresh air. Putting on a jacket, she stepped onto the porch and sat down in one of the chairs with a sigh.
Taking a drink, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She was feeling better; Mulder’s company, food, and some alcohol warming her belly seemed to right the world. Still though, she had to tell him about today, and she was not sure how to bring it up.
Years on the run, living in this house, they had not had a thought of pregnancy, and it was not as though they were using any protection. With pregnancy not possible, they had not needed to be concerned about it.
Laughing bitterly, she shook her head, opening her eyes. That was what they had thought last time and…
The door opened and Mulder stepped out with a smile, shrugging into his jacket. “It’s cold. Why are you sitting out here?” He sat next to her and she smiled with a shrug. “You want me to open another bottle?”
“No,” she said with her brow furrowed. “No, this is enough. But thank you.” She smiled and he nodded, staring at her, his eyes searching. He looked away, out across the field and sighed, both of them falling silent.
“Talk to me, Scully. Something is weighing on that beautiful mind of yours.”
She smiled softly, looking down at her wine glass, thankful for the opening he had given her. Licking her lips, she nodded, setting the glass down beside her on the porch, and closed her eyes. “I had a blood test done today.”
“A blood test? Is something wrong? Scully?” She felt his hand on her neck and opened her eyes, looking at him. His thumb stroked across her scar and she shook her head.
“No, Mulder. Not that,” she said quietly, touching his arm. “I don’t think we have to worry about that.”
“I will always worry about it, Scully,” he breathed, his eyes serious and his thumb still stroking as she nodded.
“I had a blood test because… I thought… I thought that I might possibly be pregnant.” His hand stilled and he stared at her, his mouth opening and closing. “It was negative.” She looked down and he squeezed her neck, his thumb rubbing again.
“Why would… have you… did… I’m at a loss for words here…” He sighed loudly and moved his hand from her neck, reaching for her hand instead. “Scully?”
She sighed and squeezed his hand, lifting her head to look at him. “I’ve been feeling different. A couple of times… I’ve felt lightheaded, uninterested in food, but I just thought it was work related.”
“You’re working too hard. That’s what I was saying earlier, Scully. You need…” He stopped when he saw the look on her face. “I’m sorry. I interrupted you.”
She squeezed his hand again and sighed. “This morning I… I threw up. A lot.” He stared at her hard and she shook her head. “It was like how I had felt before and I…” She sighed, looking down and closing her eyes. “I knew the test would be negative, but I had a small sliver of hope, you know? That there might be a chance.” She sobbed out a breath and let go of his hand to cover her face.
“Oh, Scully. Come here.” He put a hand on her arm and stood up, bringing her to her feet and sitting back down with her on his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried against him.
He held her close, his arms around her waist, silently letting her cry. She let it all out, though she was unsure how there could be any tears left at this point. Thoughts of William; his smell, the weight of him in her arms. She thought of him now, and the years she had missed. Of the children she had been denied, that they had been denied.
She cried until she was empty, holding onto him, her face on his shoulder, his scent calming. She felt him rocking softly, his hands running slowly up and down her back. Taking a deep shuddering breath, she loosened her hold on him, keeping her head on his shoulder. He was quiet, his breathing slow, which helped to calm her further.
“I don’t know what to say, Scully. I truly don’t,” he whispered a few minutes later. “I’m sorry sounds wrong, even though I am sorry. So sorry.” She exhaled and he nodded, their past conversations forefront in their minds. “Do you… there are other ways… we could…”
“Mulder, it’s not about that. It is, but it isn’t. There is so much… I…” He stopped rocking and pulled her closer, her own grip tightening around his neck. They sat silently, so many words unspoken. Words that hurt to say and hurt to hear. “I don’t want it to happen another way. I didn’t expect it to happen at all, and today… I just thought…”
They fell silent and she let those thoughts in again. Thoughts of a baby sleeping in the spare room upstairs. Of a curious little boy planting rocks, believing that was how a rock garden came to be. Of a brilliant little girl lying between them on a blanket, naming the constellations as they looked up at the night sky.
She wanted to give that to him, not have it any other way, but she was not able to do it. After Emily, after the failed IVF, after William… no, another way would not do.
“Never give up on a miracle,” he whispered, and she let out a bitter laugh.
“Miracles are in short supply these days.”
“Maybe.” He put his hands on her hips and pushed gently. She pulled back to look at him as he smiled sadly and brushed her hair back from her eyes. “But I’d say we thought the same was true eight years ago and look what happened.” He held her face, his fingers tangling in her hair. “Don’t lose your faith, Scully. Sometimes miracles take a while to reveal themselves. Don’t give up.”
She stared at him, knowing that another miracle pregnancy was impossible, for so many reasons. “I don’t know if I have much faith in that area, Mulder.” He nodded sadly, and she lay her head back on his chest. His arms once more went around her waist as she closed her eyes.
She had been stripped of her ability to have a child, and yet… she had created life, carried a child, and brought him into the world. It was not supposed to happen before, who was to say it would not happen again?
Never give up on a miracle, she thought with a sigh. Faith alone could not be the answer, but she would place it there. For now.
On faith.
72 notes
·
View notes
Dark In Your Heart {CEO!CH} 1
a/n: hi hello everyone here is ceo!cal and i’m super excited about it but the chapters are gonna be short, but there are going to be multiple parts, so don’t expect like super long parts! but anyway hope y’all enjoy and happy reading :)))
◈◈◈
Maddie woke up in an unfamiliar bed with what she considered a hangover from hell. She looked at the familiar man next to her and squeezed her eyes shut. One night stands weren’t really her thing, but the man who bought her a drink and shamelessly flirted with her the night before was too gorgeous to turn down. So, there she was; naked in a stranger's bed with no memory of his name. She wasn’t even sure if they had exchanged names at all, but that didn’t matter now.
Before he had the chance to wake up, Maddie was dressed in her outfit from the night before, heels in hand as to not make any noise against the wooden floors, and quickly ordered and Uber before she slipped out of his way too large and expensive Penthouse. Letting out a tired sigh, Maddie rested her head against the headrest in her Uber’s car and closed her eyes, remembering the events of last night.
Getting home was quick, thank God, and no matter how badly she she wanted to crawl into her bed and go back to sleep, she was starting a new job in two hours, and she desperately needed a shower. She washed her body of the remains of last night and shampooed the cigarette smoke smell out of her hair.
Maddie nearly choked when she wiped the steam off of the mirror and saw her reflection through it. The hickeys lining her jaw, neck, and collarbones looked like she had fucked a leech. She remembered how good they felt, how skilled he was with his mouth, but she was not expecting the deep purple bruises to be so noticable against her tanned skin.
No amount of cover up, foundation, powder, or concealer- Stevie tried all of them- could cover the marks on her neck and she cursed herself for being so careless. She went out with her friends to celebrate her best friend’s job promotion and celebrated her getting a new job. Part of her also was drinking the memories of her ex-boyfriend away, who had just broken up with her three days before.
Maddie was never that careless and reckless when she had responsibilities the next day. She had only planned to stay for a few drinks, get a nice buzz, and then go home and crash, but when the most handsome man she had ever seen offered to buy her and her friends a round of drinks, and a few more just for her, she found herself letting loose and forgetting about all responsibilities. Not a good idea on her part.
“God. What an idiot.” Maddie cursed at herself as she tried to find a dress or shirt that would cover her neck. With no such luck, she prayed that her hair would stay in place over both of her shoulders and cover her collarbones. The hickeys were on the side of her neck, which she was thankful for, but the ones on her collarbones were hard to miss, and the ones on her jaw looked like she burned herself with her curling iron.
She couldn’t spend any more time on trying to cover the love bites covering her, instead choosing to finish getting ready and leave for her first day. She was nervous, to say the least, considering she had never worked for a rich and successful CEO before, but part of her was excited. Maddie knew her new boss, Calum Hood, was New York's most eligible bachelor, and even though she had never seen a picture of him or met him before, the thought of potentially having an attractive boss nerved her.
Pressing the elevator button leading to the top floor, Maddie nervously chewed on her lip. She wasn’t sure what to expect with her new job. The lady who hired her, Claudia, Mr. Hood’s old assistant who had gotten a promotion, informed Maddie that Mr. Hood was very professional and a bit of a hard ass, and had gone through almost ten assistants in the past four months, so not to take it personally if he came off cold, and even though Maddie was warned, her nerves were still getting the best of her.
The elevator doors opened and Maddie stepped out, the same heels she wore last night clicking against the floor under her, and she looked around. The place was white, with huge windows covering the walls, and the first thing she noticed were two large white glass doors with a small desk right outside of them. Maddie instantly knew that behind the two closed doors was her new boss.
“Ms. Thompson?” Maddie spun around and smiled at the lady in front of her. Much shorter than Maddie herself, round glasses on her face, and her red hair pinned in a tight bun; she looked the classic office woman.
“Oh, uh, hi,” Maddie adjusted her coat that was hanging over her arm and shook her outstretched hand. She recognized her voice from over the phone so she could only guess the woman standing in front of her was Claudia. “You can just call me Maddie.”
“Okay, Maddie. I’m Claudia.” A woman came up behind Maddie and took her coat from her, informing her that she would be hanging it in the closet just right next to the elevator that was designated for employee and clients coats if they didn’t want to hold onto them. “Nice to meet you. Come with me.”
Maddie followed in suit and listened and watched as Claudia pointed to and told her where and what everything was. The break room was down the hall, the bathrooms on the opposite end, and as they walked around, Claudia introduced her to a few of the other employees sitting at their desks or walking around the huge office.
“This,” Claudia slammed down a bunch of papers and huffed. “Is your desk. Decorate it how you want you, but don’t overdo it, Mr. Hood doesn’t like clutter, even if it isn’t his desk.” Claudia then went on to tell Maddie that she would need to bring her own laptop and Maddie patted herself on the back for shoving it into her purse last minute before she left, and carried on to explain how to work the phones and transfer calls. “When you answer you’ll say ‘Calum Hood’s office how can I help?’ or something of the sort.”
Maddie nodded her head, taking everything in quickly and easily since she was a fast learner. Naturally, she was a bit overwhelmed with everything, but she knew she would be able to handle it. “Got it.”
“Okay,” Claudia smiled happily. Unlike Calum Hood’s old assistants, classic blondes who only wanted the job to get closer to him and into his pants that had absolutely no clue what they were doing even when they said they did, and that’s why they only lasted two weeks, Maddie was smart and didn’t even know what her boss looked like. She wasn’t working there solely because of him. “You ready to meet him?”
Now, Maddie’s nerves were in full force. “I uh-” Maddie cleared her throat, suddenly nauseous from nerves and from the abundance of alcohol she drank the night before suddenly creeping up on her. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
Claudia knocked twice before cracking the door open and peeking her head in. “Mr. Hood?” His head shot up at the sound of her voice at he cocked an eyebrow at her. “Your new assistant is starting today and she’s here. Are you busy?”
“No, come in.” He returned his attention to the paper in front of him and furrowed his eyebrows in thought. He was working on something had been trying to complete for weeks now and he was stumped. He simply couldn’t figure out what to do next.
“This is Maddie Thompson.”
Maddie finally looked at Calum after admiring all of the artwork that was hanging on his office walls and she swore her heart stopped beating for a split second. This can not be happening, Maddie wanted to scream. There sat the man who bought her drinks and wooed her into his bed the night before. The man who she swore was the most handsome man she had ever seen.
Calum looked up again, his eyes widening and the pen in between his fingers falling to the floor next to his feet, completely forgetting about the book in front of him that he was trying to edit. All his attention now on the ravishing woman in front of him. There stood the woman he couldn’t keep his eyes off of all night, the woman he bought drinks for and took back to his house for a good time. For a one night stand.
Maddie looked at her boss in shock as he stared back at her with the same expression. Calum Hood never liked to mix business with pleasure. He had done it a few times before and it never turned out well, so he swore he would never come close to even thinking about his employees sexually. But there stood his assistant, the woman he tasted and felt for hours the night before, right in front of him.
She was fucked. They were absolutely fucked.
◈◈◈
Taglist: @novacanecalum @cosmocalum @roselukes @kinglyhood @cantbehandled-ever @hereforlukescruff @astroashtonio @monsteramongmikey @gosh-im-short @emma070900 @youmaycallmemrshemmings @grittyisathot @cakesunflower @asht0ns-world @singt0mecalum @lockthisheartinchains @cheyenne-in-wonderland @babyurart @blahehblah @inlovehoodx @softboycal @hopelessxcynic @ashtoniwir
(if you want to be added/taken off send me an ask!)
471 notes
·
View notes
YouTube Zombie AU
I have no life-
When the first out break came, thousands had been infected with the disease. If it could even be considered that. Jack, who had been staying over at Felix's house that weekend, was mortified this was actually happening. So was everyone else that got to witness over the television screen. First hand experiences didn't come until the 3rd month for the Irish man, the outbreak only recently spreading across the continent.
Felix was Jacks childhood friend, they didn't grow up together since Felix had to move around a lot. It was mostly a back and forth from Sweden to Ireland for their family. But one the months Felix did come to Ireland, he and Jack would hang out. When Jack got old enough, had a job and a stable income, he would take vacations to go see his Swedish friend. And through Felix he met Marzia, the Swedish mans girlfriend. Jack instantly liked her, he knew the woman would make Felix a better man in the end and seeing how happy the two were together made him happy.
But when the disease spread to Ireland, where the three had decided to stay for a while, it was like watching flies drop form zapping laps that people hang on their porches. Everyone had been so unprepared, even with the 3 month warnings. Flights out to the nearest base camps left within days, Jack and the couple baring making it on one. It was hard for them, not just leaving home to head to Fort Knox but also to see so many people die. And in such gruesome ways that made his stomach turn just remembering.
'Everything's going to be okay.' He remembered Marzia telling them this. Optimistic that the government would find a cure and fix this mess. When that was brought up though, a couple two rows down form them spoke about how this was God punishing them. That the human race was so messed up that God planned for this to happen to them, to punish them in the nose sadistic was possible. Jack would have applauded the god for its cruel ways, but during the moment that was the last thing he would have thought about. To busy trying to keep up with what was going on during the time.
The base camp didn't last long, maybe a month had went by before things fell apart again. To many people gathered in one area was soon realized to be a horrible idea and those that survived split in different directions. It was during that time that Felix had lost Marzia so the Rotters, both watching in horrified shock as the woman's scream was drowned out by her own blood filling her lungs. Felix would have died there too if Jack hadn't ripped him away from the scene. The Swedish has fought against him, screaming and crying for Jack to leave him with her. It tore Jack apart, his heart breaking for his best friend.
After that, things had been different for the both of them. Felix had shut down, becoming a shell of the happy man he used to be and Jack has toughened up. Maybe not physically, though that did increase too, but now he wasn't scared or felt guilty when it came to shooting the walking dead. Nor living people who wanted to kill them. They both found out the hard way that some survivors turned to cannibalism during this mess of a life time. It was disgusting and something Jack would never stoop so low to.
In the presence of today, it was just Jack and Felix. They've traveled, on foot, from Kentucky all the way to Cheyenne, Wyoming. There were plenty of close calls along the way, both from Rotters and survivors. It left Felix without a working right arm, broken from a scuffle with a beefy man who wanted their guns. Jack felt bad he couldn't do more than just align the bone and wrap it, they didn't have pain medication or even the right material to keep the bone from slipping out of place and healing wrongly. "We should rest." Jack said, glancing to his broken watch for the millionth time. It stopped working back in Missouri, so they couldn't tell the time other then looking at where the sun was in the sky. So with a sigh of slight annoyance, jack glanced to the orange-ing sky.
"We can't until we find cover." Felix let out a hiss of pain when he moved his broken arm, the makeshift sling was pinching at his skin. Jack hand nodded in agreement, leading them farther down the barren highway. They were surrounded by trees and the occasional car, which they would stop to check for supplies, but no houses to take cover in.
About two more miles of walking, Jacks feet had had enough for the day. They'd been walking since sunrise with breaks only to rest or eat what little they had. "I give up." He kept his voice down, not wanting to catch the attention of any lurking Rotters. "Well just have to settle in a car for the night."
"Or that house." Felix pointed behind Jack, who whipped around fast enough to almost cause himself whiplash. He had been sure moments ago there was no houses near by, now there was one? The lack of food and sleep was really getting to him. But the house was there, just hidden so he wasn't going completely crazy yet.
With a simple nod of the head, they made the short trek to the house. It was an old country looking house, two stories with white chipped paint on the walls. Even a cute wrap around porch, a house you'd see on old country movies. Jack had told Felix to stay outside while he checked the place out, staring with the perimeters of the house before venturing inside. He had checked every nook and cranny by the time he was sure it was safe, poking his head out the door and motioning for Felix to come in.
"We'll head out in the morning." Jack spoke quietly to Felix, who nodded and didn't hesitate to head for one of the upstairs bedrooms. He was exhausted and in pain, Jack couldn't blame him. When there was a definite click of a door shutting upstairs, the Irish man finally moved from his spot at the door. He took the living room couch, wanting to stay on the ground floor in case of an emergency.
And for the better half of the night, things were peaceful and quiet. It wasn't until what felt like 2 in the morning that Jack woke up to the front door creaking open. By now, those that were still surviving have learned that the Rotters were smarter than they once thought. They were evolving, for the worse. So for a door to be opened was nothing to the dead.
As quietly as Jack could, he rolled off the couch and landed on the floor with a soft thud noise. He freaked out for a moment that he had given himself away but the footsteps coming into the house had went for the kitchen. It gave him enough time to get his gun ready in one hand and a knife in the other. A panicky feeling bubbled in his stomach, making his hands shake for a mere seconds before he calmed himself with a deep breath. He cringed at the creaking floor beneath him, cursing when movement in the kitchen ceased for a moment. Then, he heard voices.
Quiet voices but ones to set him on edge just as bad as the Rotters screaming. "Just get the food and go." A deep voice, smooth and commanding had spoke. Jack felt a little at easy that they weren't interested in them but that didn't mean he was going to let them leave with their food. So, against better judgment Jack had pushed the kitchen door open with his knife hand.
"You're not taking anything." His voice was monotoned, no emotions held in it thanks to the months of hell. Though just a quickly a light had blinded him and there was a click of a gun being cocked ready for its first shot.
"Look, we're not looking for trouble." Another male voice had spoke out, less deep than the first one but almost sounding apologetic. "We just need a bit of food and we'll leave." Jack squinted against the blinding light, moving to the side to get out of its way. The movement didn't cause any problems thankfully, and he had hesitantly lowered his gun. Jack was still a kind person at heart, even if this new world has made him cold.
The light was shinned up towards the ceiling, providing light for the whole room. Jack could finally get a good look at the two, one wearing a mask with a straight line for a mouth and two dots as the eyes. The other had the being of a bread growing, it was kept trimmed though and complimented the mans features. Something about the pair seemed different than most survivors they'd come across. Less aggressive was one thing for sure, but there was a feeling in Jacks gut that told him he could trust them. A bubbling feeling that felt almost comfortable.
"How much food do you have?" Jack asked, putting his gun in its holder on his hip and the knife back in his boot. And to his surprise, the two took their backpacks off and emptied them on the table. There was barely anything; two bottles of waters, three cans of soup, and two packs of those cheesy cracker things. Felix and him didn't have much but they at least had way more than these two. There was also a few guns that clanked down onto the table after falling out, no bullets though he realized. "Damn." He mumbled, his tone sympathetic.
"Most the gas stations on this stretch have been whipped clean." The man without the mask spoke, he looked exhausted in the dim lighting. "If you keep heading northwest on this road you'll be dead in a day. Rotters are crawling around about two miles up." He informed, much needed information considering that was where him and Felix were heading.
"Thanks for the heads up." Jack gave a simple nod with his thanks. "Where are you two headed?" He asked, heading to the cabinets to grab spare food.
"Kentucky." The other had spoke, voice slightly muffled by the mask. Jack cringed at the mention of that place, bad memories surfacing. Grabbing 4 cans of soup and two bottles of water, Jack turned and set it on the table with their stuff.
"If you're headed for Fort Knox, it's a bust. Place got overran with Rotters about two or three months ago." He told them, most his days running together so it was hard to tell how many months it was exactly.
"Well shit." Mr. No-mask groaned, a hand running over his face. "Then I guess we're headed no where." He sighed out, glancing to his masked friend. Jack watched the two, words getting lodged in his throat from trying not to speak them.
"We could head to the NAS down in Meridian." Both Jack and the man without the mask looked to the one with the mask. Jack was dumbfounded, that was months away on foot and for all they knew it was just like Fort Knox. But it there was a chance, for these two at least. For him and Felix, they refused to go anywhere with many survivors. Not after what happened last time.
"To far away. I'd rather die by Rotters than walk that far-"
"What are your names anyway?" Jack cut in, wanting a name to the two he was giving half his food too.
"Oh, my names Mark, this is Cry." Mark had introduced them, motioning to the man with a mask who was Cry. It seemed a little silly to call someone that but he wouldn't say anything about it, some people liked to keep their identity under-wraps even in times like these.
"I'm Jack." There was silence that fell over them for a moment, before the Irish man spoke up again. "If you're not leaving for Meridian, you're welcome to join me and my friend." Jack offered, something he never thought he'd be doing. But four seemed like an okay amount of people to have, more than that was to much.
The two seemed shocked for a moment, looking at each other in a silent conversation. Jack could only keep up with have of it, guessing what they were saying by what he saw Marks facial expressions do. But in the end, they both nodded to each other in their unspoken agreement and turned towards Jack. He was expecting them to decline his offer.
"We're in then."
17 notes
·
View notes
Lashes (pt 16)
Bill Williamson is a racist asshole. Everyone knows it. They just punch him and go on about their day. When a Lakota woman joins the gang, everyone expects things to go on as normal, slurs and all, and for a time, it does. But her curiosity gets the better of her, and she finds that hatred is something learned - which means it can be unlearned, if given time, care, and patience. And she has plenty of those… the first two, anyway.
Bill Williamson x OC
When the carriage arrived back at the house, the sun was just beginning to rise. They all clambered out, murmuring good nights to one another and going their separate ways. Lenny climbed down from the driver's seat promising to take the coach to the wagon fence up at Emerald Ranch later in the day. They were exhausted.
Bill and Star made their way to their tent, barely bothering to wriggle out of their fancy clothes before collapsing in a heap. Sleep was on them in no time, though dreams pushed at the edges of Star's mind. The night had not been an easy one, and her psyche saw fit to continue that trend.
When she finally woke up, some time after noon, she was in a poor mood, though Bill's presence was a comfort. It took a while for him to wake up as well, but when he did, he simply rolled over and gathered her into his arms, closing his eyes again. She laughed softly and nestled in against him. “We should probably get up,” she whispered.
“Don't want to,” he replied simply. “We deserve a day, after all that mess.”
“Hm. Maybe so.”
The entire side of her face ached from his strike, but she didn't want to tell him that. He already felt bad enough, evidenced by the soft, lingering kisses he was leaving on her bruised skin. She felt bad for having asked it of him, but it had kept their cover from being blown, and Dutch seemed pleased.
“Can't believe you ever put up with me sayin' shit like that,” he sighed.
Star shrugged. “You seemed to mean it less. That's what got me curious. It felt like a ruse of some kind – like you were trying to drive me away.”
He chuckled. “Which clearly didn't work.”
“Clearly not.” She smiled, opening her eyes to find him watching her. “So... you don't hate the Indians anymore?”
“I... no. I-I-I still got nightmares, but... but that's war. Bet all them that fought in the Civil War got 'em too, and I don't see them hatin' white folk for it. And you. You don't hate all white folk for what they done to your people. Which is... somethin' else.”
Something uncomfortable constricted in Star's chest, and she sat up, looking between the tent flaps outside. Bill watched her for a moment, then sat up with her, keeping a slight distance. “You ain't never told me... 'bout Wounded Knee.”
“No... I supposed I haven't.” She took a deep breath. “What do you want to know?”
“Well... how'd you come to be there? What-what happened? From your point of view, I mean.”
Star felt like she might puke, but she swallowed down the sensation and began to speak. “I was sixteen years old. My father and I had been traveling alone for some time, avoiding the army, but when he heard of Sitting Bull's murder he was worried and enraged. He wanted to travel to the Hunkpapa village, so we did, but it was mostly empty when we arrived. We did some asking around and found out that those in Sitting Bull's village had gone to join Spotted Elk in the Cheyenne River reservation, but word was that they had chosen to move as well – to Pine Ridge. With Sitting Bull dead, many were seeking refuge with Red Cloud there.”
As she spoke, Star drew shapes in the dirt in front of her, staring emptily. “We met up with them a couple days before camping at Wounded Knee Creek. Many in the camp were followers of the Ghost Dance religion and performed the dance regularly.”
“I never did understand what that was about,” Bill admitted. “People kept sayin' it was sign of an uprising.”
“It wasn't. Those who performed the dance believed that doing so would bring back those who had died and would eventually lead to the disappearance of the white man, but it was important that they did not fight to bring this about. It was just a dance. My father began to dance with them. I suppose, in such dark times, he had begun to miss my mother and wanted her to come back to him.”
The memory of the drums were ever present in Star's mind, and she could feel them pushing against the inside of her skin. “I never danced. I thought it was foolish. The man who came up with it, Wovoka, said that the Christian God had come to him in a vision, and I had no interest in anything the Christian God had to say. Not after how his followers had treated me and my people.”
“Ain't much of a fan of him neither.”
Star gave a small smile over her shoulder before going on. “The morning it happened, I was going about my daily chores. I saw the soldiers coming down from the hill, but they did not seem to be angry, so I thought nothing of it, though when I realized they were disarming us, I began to worry. I started to search for my father. Some were performing the dance, so I thought he might be with them. When the first shot went off, I froze and things just went mad.”
Her brown eyes welled with tears that slid down her cheeks. “Everyone began screaming and yelling. Bullets flew past me, striking men, women, and children alike. I saw a mother with a babe at her breast get shot through the back, killing them both. I saw Spotted Elk fall. He was just an old man. Old, and sick. But he was shot down as though he were a brave with a weapon in hand.” Star's lip quivered slightly, putting a waver into her voice.
“My father found me in the madness and put me onto a horse. He said I must get away. 'Nakípȟa!' Flee, he told me. I did not want to run. I wanted to fight. He smacked my horse's rump, and it bolted. I looked back to call for my father, and I saw him stagger as a red stain spread on his shirt. He fell into the snow, and my horse carried me over the plains whether I wanted to go or not.”
Star had spared him some of the details of watching the insides of men become their outsides; of the screams of children as they were butchered. He had seen it all himself.
“I don't know who shot first. But I do know that the army descended upon hundreds of unarmed people with weapons we could not hope to match and slaughtered us long past the point of quelling resistance. 300 Sioux died that day. Only 31 soldiers. And then the government gave some of the soldiers medals. Awards for murdering my people better than their brethren.” She looked back over her shoulder once more, “Better than you.”
Bill took in the sight of her tears, then looked away. “I ain't... there's no excuse for what was done that day. No explanation. It weren't even a proper fight, like you said. And I... I'm sorry.” When he looked back to her, his own eyes had grown watery, causing emotion to catch in her throat. “There ain't nothin' I can say to make it better, I know that, but... I will never let anyone treat you that way again. Like you ain't even human. I deserved everything you ever did to me and worse for-for-for the things I said. I was so caught up in my own sufferin' that I couldn't see what your people was goin' through, but that's... that's all different now.”
He reached for her, and she climbed onto his lap, her legs on either side of his torso. He brushed over the mark he'd left the night before with his thumb. “I won't hurt you no more. Not for no one. Not for the army or the government. Not even Dutch.”
“That's a hard promise to keep, Bill,” she murmured, leaning into his hand. “Lovers inevitably hurt each other at some point.”
“Well... yeah, but... I won't mean to.”
She smiled. “I'll take it.”
They spent the rest of the day in their tent, not even bothering to emerge for food. No one came to intrude on them, which was surprising, but perhaps telling of Dutch's knowledge of what they'd gone through at the party. It was a needed day of respite.
Mostly the pair talked through the absurdities of the night before, laughing at how pompous the people were. A few impressions were done which sent them both into raucous giggles. Eventually, however, the conversation turned to the future of the gang.
“So, what do you think about all this?” Star asked, gesturing vaguely.
Bill shrugged. “I dunno. Seems like, if we can just get enough money from the stuff we found at the party that maybe we can clear outta here.”
“To where?”
“Well... Dutch been sayin' Tahiti, but... I don't really know where that is. Island somewhere from what I can gather.”
Star frowned. “And you... want to go to this island?”
He shrugged again. “Ain't never been to an island. Besides, you know me. I'll follow Dutch anywhere. Wouldn't you?”
Her initial instinct was to agree with him, but there was a discomfort nagging at the back of her mind. She believed in Dutch and in his dreams for the future, but she was wary of complete committal to anyone. Even Bill, if she was brutally honest. “As long as his path is aligned with my own, then yes.”
“What... what does that mean?”
Star sighed. “It means that I will never let someone else decide my course of action for me. I'm not saying he will, but if Dutch ever takes a turn down a road I will not travel, then... he and I will have to part ways.”
This revelation seemed to surprise and distress Bill who opened and shut his mouth several times in an effort to respond. “But I thought you said... back at Clemens Point...”
“I said that as long as Dutch is with us, I'm with him. He has created a family for which he is trying to provide a better future. The family is the priority, at least for me. My goal is to see this gang safe and happy and living well. If that means we go to Tahiti, then we go to Tahiti. I'm just saying... I care about these people. I want what's best for them.”
“So does Dutch.”
“I know. That's why I'm still here.” She took a deep breath, leveling a serious look at the man across from her. “We all must choose our own journey in this life. Having our paths dictated to us by another robs us of our simplest right: to live our lives free. Dutch knows this. He fights for freedom and choice, and I respect and love him for it. While he may be my leader, he did not choose this path for me. It was one I was already traveling before I fell in behind him.”
Bill's brow was creased in confusion, but after some quiet time to think, he seemed to make his peace with her words. His face relaxed, and he nodded slightly. “I... I guess I just ain't used to pickin' a path of my own. Last time I did that, I ended up in the army. Well and truly lost.”
Star smiled. “I am glad that Dutch was there to help you find your way again. Perhaps now that you have gained some confidence you will feel comfortable stepping out of his shadow. In all things, Bill, you must be true to yourself and nothing else. If you believe it is right, then you must do it. If you believe it is wrong, do not do it.”
He dropped his gaze and smiled softly. “Simple enough.”
….
The next day, Star rode into Saint Denis alone to meet up with Eagle Flies and his father. It was not hard to spot them on High Street, waiting outside of an official looking building, but she was surprised to see a white man waiting with them.
She tied Rhiannon to a hitching post, then jogged across the street. “My friend!” she greeted, waving.
Eagle Flies met her and gripped her arm. “Wicapiwakan, welcome.”
“Call me Star. It is more palatable to the sensitive white ear.” They shared a conspiratorial grin, then shifted to the others.
“Who is this?” the white man asked, smiling.
“This is Star. She and I met when...” Eagle Flies' eyes slipped to his father briefly. “Well, she was in trouble, and I helped her. We saw each other again the other night, and I asked her to come here. Perhaps she can help.”
“From which tribe do you hail, madam?”
“Oglála Lakota,” she answered, holding out a hand for him to shake.
He took it and shook heartily. “Ah! Kin of Crazy Horse and Red Cloud, then?”
She shared an amused look with Eagle Flies before politely responding, “Kind of.”
“Excellent. Oh, but forgive me, I have yet to introduce myself. I am Evelyn Miller.”
“The author?” Hearing the name that so often passed Dutch's lips was a shock.
“Something like that,” he laughed, releasing her hand. “Now, what has Eagle Flies told you of our goals here?”
“Not much. Only that you were seeking the aid of politicians to allow the Wapiti to keep their land. Knowing too well the consequences of being moved forcibly, I would like to help however I can.”
At that moment, Eagle Flies' father stepped up. “You say you will help however you can, though if you are a friend of my son's I must believe that perhaps you are of like mind with him. We do not come here to make war, and if that is your aim, I must ask that you do not help us.”
“Father,” Eagle Flies grumbled, rolling his eyes.
Star shook her head. “No, it is a legitimate concern. I will answer you honestly, sir. I do not have much trust in the white man's government. If they are moving you again, it is for their gain and no other reason which leads me to believe that they will stop at nothing to see it through. However, if this can be stopped without bloodshed, then it should be. If not... well... we'll deal with that if it comes up.”
The older man eyed her with weary amusement, though great wisdom was behind his gaze. “In that case, allow me to introduce myself. I am Rains Fall, chief of the Wapiti.”
“I'm pleased to meet you, sir,” she replied, dipping her head.
“Wonderful,” Miller said, smiling. “Now that we are all acquainted, perhaps we can fill you in on the details of... Oh! Hello! Sir!”
Star spun to see who it was the author was greeting, and she was shocked to find Arthur Morgan approaching them. He seemed equally as baffled to see her standing there, and she very abruptly wasn't sure if she was supposed to pretend she didn't know him or not.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Miller,” Arthur replied.
“Forgive me, I don't believe I ever caught your name at that ghastly party.”
“Arthur Morgan. At least, sometimes.”
“May I say somethin' rude, Mr. Morgan?”
Arthur grinned slightly. “Sure.”
“The mayor thinks you robbed him. Though, to be clear, he wasn't very upset about it. He rather liked you.”
“Ok...”
“Your arrival here is most timely, sir. Most timely. Do you... well, I mean to say... can you... steal things?”
“Is there a reason you're askin' me to incriminate myself, Mr. Miller?” Arthur replied, ever so slightly unconvincing in his affront, though perhaps it was only Star who thought so.
“Have you met?” Miller asked, shifting his attention to the three natives. “This is Rains Fall, a great chief, his son, Eagle Flies, and a friend of theirs, Star.”
Arthur nodded, eyes lingering slightly too long on Star, though they seemed to have decided to feign ignorance of one another. Rains Fall said, “We saw your wagon train crossing the river at Cumberland Falls some months ago, and at the party you were upstairs.”
Through his surprise, Arthur replied, “Well, you have great powers of observation.”
“Yes, my people, if we are even a people anymore, we've fought hard. We've made peace treaties. And those treaties were broken, and we've been moved and punished, and punished and moved.”
“I'm sure.”
“And now I am told we are to be moved again.”
“Clearly contravening the peace treaty signed three years ago,” Miller added.
Ever surly, Eagle Flies muttered, “This will lead to war.”
Rains Fall put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. “No, my son. It will not. It cannot. We cannot fight another war. They have got stronger, and we have become far weaker, Mr. Morgan.”
“It's a bad business,” the outlaw murmured, blue eyes flicking to Star.
Miller took a deep breath and said, “It's to do with oil. I know it is, but I need proof. I believe there were some prospectors who were on their land a few months ago who have filed reports with Leviticus Cornwall and the state government claiming huge reserves of oil under their land.”
Arthur nodded knowingly. “So, you want me to try to steal it.”
“Well, obviously they can't. Even more obviously, I would be useless. Listen, I realize this is a ridiculous request, but we are very desperate.”
“I'm not a do-gooder, Mr. Miller,” came the response. “Gentlemen, ma'am, I'm very sorry for your predicament, but I'm a workin' man; I got problems of my own.” He turned to leave.
Star almost called out to him, prepared to beg, but Rains Fall beat her in both time and motivation. “We will pay you very handsomely, Mr. Morgan.”
Arthur paused, then turned and came back. “How much?”
Eagle Flies sneered, “I told you they're all mercenaries.”
The snort that came out of Arthur was filled with irony. “There's a price on my head in two states, my friend. The government doesn't like me any more than it does you. Like you, I been runnin' for as long as I can remember, and like you... my time here is nigh on done.”
Rains Fall nodded. “We understand, and we will pay. You meet my son in a week near Citadel Rock, just went of the oil fields.”
“Ok.”
“We are very grateful for your help.”
Arthur nodded, eyes slipping between all present – lingering on Star. She avoided his gaze, knowing she would get an earful later.
“Gentlemen,” Miller cut in gently, “our meeting with the senator is soon. We should head over there.”
“This is a waste of time,” Eagle Flies replied. “And his.”
“No, we must try everything,” his father replied. “Come along.”
As Arthur headed back to his horse and the rest moved down the street, the door they had been lingering at opened, and a man stuck his head out. “Mr. Miller! The councilor wants to apologize. He can see you now.”
“We've been waiting... I don't know how long!” the author replied.
“Or next month, if you'd like to reschedule.”
Miller seemed to deflate slightly. “Come, friends. Perhaps the senator won't mind waiting.”
Star followed the others through the doorway, throwing a glance over her shoulder at Arthur who was across the street watching her. She gave an apologetic shrug, and then the door shut.
An hour was spent in the councilor's office as Miller pontificated about the plight of the Wapiti and Rains Fall made his pleas. The councilor barely seemed to be awake, let alone listening to a thing they were saying, and when they left the office, Star felt ready to murder someone. Miller admitted that the meeting could have gone better, but was ready to hurry off to the Senator to try again.
Star made her apologies and prepared to part ways with them, though Eagle Flies chuckled darkly and said, “I don't blame you. It's a crime to waste one's time like this.”
“It's not that,” she replied quietly. “It's just that I don't trust myself not to strangle the next man who treats your father so disrespectfully.”
He laughed again and pat her shoulder. “Go on, then. Can't have you arrested on our behalf. If you're up to it, meet me at Citadel Rock as well. An extra gun can never go amiss.”
“I might do just that. Good luck.”
She crossed the street, leaving them to hurry off. Rhiannon waited patiently for her, nickering slightly at her approach. “I don't know, girl,” Star whispered, rubbing her nose. “This could get ugly.”
Star arrived back in camp before Arthur, but as soon as she saw his buckskin Standardbred through the trees, she tried to make herself scarce. Of course, as soon as he saw her, he made a beeline in her direction, taking her arm and leading her to the back of the property by the run-down boathouse.
“What in the hell are you up to with those Wapiti? Do they know you're a part of a gang? What's goin' on?”
Star held up her hands to calm him. “Eagle Flies is the man who saved me from the army. He and his braves attacked the camp in retribution for the deaths of the Lakota I had been traveling with. We ran into each other at the party the other night, and he asked me to meet them. He knows I've fallen in with a gang, but his father does not. Honestly, I don't think they would have a problem with it, but I didn't know what to do.”
“Yeah, well... me neither.”
“Eagle Flies asked me to come to Citadel Rock. I say we just go together and tell him the truth. You get the papers they need, and you'll be done.”
“What about you?”
“I... I don't know, Arthur. I can't just sit back and watch the Wapiti be treated like this. They may not be my tribe, but... we all went through the same thing. Bullied off our land, murdered when we didn't comply, forced to live off government assistance. I was too young to fight back when it was done to my people. I cannot do nothing as it happens again.”
Arthur sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I get it. It ain't right, what's bein' done to 'em, but... don't you think we got enough problems with the gang right now?”
“Maybe. It just occurred to me when I saw Eagle Flies at the party that I haven't thought about anything outside of this gang for months now, and whether we like it or not, there is a world outside of this. We live in it, unfortunately. If I do not follow my conscience on this, then everything I fight for with this gang means nothing.”
It took a moment, but Arthur finally relented. “Alright. Just... be careful out there, Star. I don't wanna lose you, and when it ain't gang business, I can't protect ya the same way.”
Star hadn't realized that Arthur's concern came from a place of affection for her, and the admittance of that made her heart squeeze tightly. “Thank you, Arthur. Really.”
He nodded, putting a big, rough hand on her shoulder. “It ain't just Charles that gained a little sister when you showed up. We all kinda did. Just don't want ya to get hurt is all.”
Love bubbled up into Star's chest, and she practically hurled herself at Arthur, latching her arms around his middle. He stood, frozen in surprise for a moment, then gently wrapped her up in his burly frame. While it had never crossed her mind that she might one day call a white man family, it certainly didn't ruffle her feathers to do so now.
“Go on, now,” Arthur murmured, shooing her away. “I've got a couple things to deal with before we can head to the Heartlands, but I'll come find ya when I'm ready.”
“What's on your list?”
He shook his head. “Some hair-brained idea of Trelawney's. We're robbin' a river boat tomorrow night.”
She laughed and turned to go. “I don't really know what that entails, but I wish you luck.”
“Thanks.” He turned to go, then turned back and called, “Oh, hey, you seen Kieran lately?”
Star paused, running through the last few days in her mind. “No, actually. Why?”
“Might be nothin'. Few people just ain't seen him for a couple days.”
“Did he go fishing?”
“Maybe. He'll turn up. Just wanted to ask.”
“Sure.”
They part ways, though Star felt uneasy. The last time she could remember seeing Kieran had been the day before the party, but to be fair, she had not been in camp a whole lot since then, and the one day she was she'd been holed up with Bill. It was probably nothing, but the point had been made several times over the last couple days: the gang was her family. If she didn't worry, what kind of sister was she?
10 notes
·
View notes
Watercolors (Brandon Arreaga) ~ Chapter Eight: Monet
Summary: 17 year old Amina Parker was far from a blank canvas, but he still managed to make a finger painting with her love.
A/N: And just like that it seems like the interest in this story has gone down. Let me know if I should continue this, because it feels like the last 3 or so chapters haven’t been too popular...
Part Seven Part Nine
Amina knew that Nick’s car wasn’t large enough to fit all seven of them, but she didn’t expect to be sat literally on top of Austin. She could tell he didn’t mind, but she found herself worried that she might crush the skinny boy. After all, Amina wasn’t exactly the lightest.
Even with the discomfort of the number of people in the car, the ride to Nick’s house was short and pleasant. The large houses passed by in a blur of well paved sidewalks and watered lawns. The boys all sang along to the NSYNC playing through the car speakers. Austin poked Amina in the side, causing her to squeal.
“Come on, Mimi! You sing this part.” He chirped.
If she could, Amina would have paled. Singing was definitely not her strong suit. However, with the stares of Edwin, Austin, Zion, and Zane from the backseat, she decided to put her pride behind her.
“It’s gonna be me!” She yelled.
Everyone laughed, covering the beat drop of the song. Amina couldn’t stop herself from smiling, loving the energy they were all sharing. As the car slowed to a stop in front of a large house, Amina’s breath got caught in her throat. They all piled out of Nick’s Range, and she looked up at the red brick house.
“Welcome to Casa Mara.” Nick chuckled, throwing an arm around Amina’s shoulders and pulling her in the direction of the front door.
The thick oak door closed with a heavy click, leaving Amina to admire the elegance of Nick’s house. It was somehow more extravagant than she expected. The halls were lined in delicate embellished wallpaper, the floors were either stark white marble or dark mahogany. Amina couldn’t stop herself from gaping at the giant chandelier hanging in the foyer.
“Nicolas? Is that you?” A loud, very Jersey-Italian voice called from somewhere in the house.
Nick just sighed, motioning for everyone to follow him. “Yeah, it’s me, Ma. I have the boys with me.”
The group rounded the corner of a long hallway, finding themselves in the kitchen. Once again, Amina found herself gaping at the stainless steel appliances, and shiny granite countertops. Standing over a large pot was a woman in her early fifties, dyed black hair tied up into a messy bun. She turned to meet the group with a smile.
“Hi boys!” Her eyes turned to Amina and Zane. “And who do we have here?”
Nick rolled his eyes, performing an action Amina knew she would get slapped for in her own house. “These are some friends from school, Amina and Zane, the ones I’ve been telling out about.”
As Nick spoke, his mother went down the line of the four boys that weren’t her son. She hugged each of them, placing a wet kiss on their cheek with a loud smack. By the smiles on the boys’ faces, Amina could tell that hanging out at Nick’s House was their favorite.
“Well, Amina and Zane, it’s nice to meet you both.”
Mrs. Mara hugged Zane first, placing a kiss on her cheek that Zane looked happy to receive. Amina felt a little more awkward, wondering how this lady was already treating her like she had known her for years. However, she still got her hug and kiss all the same.
“So we’re gonna go down to the basement, and probably go out for dinner and some laser tag later.” Nick chimed.
His mother looked slightly disappointed. “Are you sure? I can always cook up something for you guys here.”
Once again, Nick rolled his eyes, leading the group out of the kitchen and back down the hallway. Amina did her best to smile as they walked out.
“Thanks Mom,” Nick called, now considerably far away. “But we’re gonna go out. We’ll be in the basement in the meantime.”
. . .
Maybe Amina was terrible at laser tag. The boys didn’t need to know that! But as she rounded a corner, a loud zap went off, leaving Amina’s vest dead. When she looked to see who the culprit responsible for her second death (in twenty minutes), she was surprised to see Brandon’s face smiling back at her.
In the twenty-five seconds it took for her best to come back to life, and put her back in the game, she crossed the tight space, standing next to Brandon. His white teeth glowed an eerie purple under the blacklight of the laser tag arena.
“How many times have you died?” He questioned, looking down at the curvy girl in front of him.
Amina sighed, crossing her arms like a defiant toddler. “Twice. But like it’s unfair! Y’all keep popping out of nowhere!”
Amina knew that when she got fustrated, a southern accent peeked through her New Jersey exterior. She blamed her mother’s Georgia roots.
“Another thing to note about Amina, she sucks at laser tag.”
Just like that, Amina’s vest came back to life. As Brandon raised his gun to shoot at her again, she swatted it down. Amina couldn’t help herself from smiling as he giggled: Brandon’s laugh was contagious.
Amina was about to head back into the thick of the game when Brandon pulled her close, her back to his chest. She wondered why he caged her in that position.
“B? What are you doing?”
Her question was answered by Zane and Edwin rounding the corner, shooting relentlessly at the two. Brandon was successful with using Amina as a human shield, and within seconds, her vest was dead.
“Love you, Mimi!” Brandon called as he ran away, leaving Amina in the center of the dark, blacklight hallway.
Once again, she sighed, placing her hands on her hips and waiting for her vest to power up again. Both Edwin and Zane stood laughing for a second before patting her on the shoulder and moving further into the arena. As she watched them go, Amina realized that Brandon hadn’t gotten hit once.
. . .
Amina blew on the glittery purple ink, willing it to dry before she closed her notebook. She knew that writing that night would be easy, simply just recalling the facts of the day. She found herself not even embellishing it: it was better that way.
Her silk scarf covered head popped up at the sound of a knock at the door. She called for them to come in. Amina smiled at her little sister, who sported a scarf just like her own.
“What’s up, Chey?”
Cheyenne ventured further into Amina’s room, taking a seat at the foot of her bed. “Nothing much. I just wanted to say hi.”
“Well hi. How was your day?” Amina found herself smiling at her younger sister.
“It was alright, I guess. Some white girls kept trying to touch my hair. I kept telling them to stop, but you know they never listen.”
“So what did you do? You didn’t just sit there and let them touch it, did you?”
Cheyenne looked guilty, turning her focus down to her pink pajamas. “I didn’t really know what else I could do.”
Amina sighed, crossing the room to go sit across from the younger girl. She crossed her legs under herself, and looked her sister straight in the eye.
“What you do is, you hold your shoulders back, look those girls straight in the eyes and say, ‘I am Cheyenne Monet Parker. No one touches me. Now, I said stop. Get your white hands off of my hair.’ And Cheyenne, I’m telling you, they will stop right there and then.”
Her little sister scrunched her nose up, giving a very preteen-ish scoff. “Why’d you have to use my middle name?”
They both burst into laughter. “It adds to the drama, Chey! Don’t ruin it. You gotta say the whole thing so that they really understand the point.”
From somewhere in the room, Amina’s phone began to ring. She sighed, climbing down from her bed to locate the device. After digging through her backpack, she finally found it, but by then it had stopped ringing. A bright message popped up on the glass face of her phone from Zane.
Amina Nicole Parker, you have some explaining to do!
49 notes
·
View notes
A Legacy Left Behind - Chapter 2 - The Lions of the Valley - Part 2
The Aftermath...
Commander Joe White’s Office, Naval Command, Bagram Base -
Afghanistan
Two days after the raid of ‘Lions of the Valley’
(Seven days after Major John Sheppard's retrieval from Parwan)
After two days of intense briefing and debriefing sessions that took place in the CIC- starting with Commander Joe White in person and many other higher ups in Naval Intelligence Command who joined from the States via secure video links, Steve was finally free from their grasp. He knew that Kono and Adam were still going through the same process with their respective agencies.
The three targets of the mission, Victor Hesse, Anton Hesse and the newly identified Wo Fat had already been transported to a location unknown, for thorough debriefing sessions.
Steve entered his CO’s office and took a seat in front of Commander Joe White as ordered.
“Well Steve, now that you have tied up here nicely, how would you like to take some leave and go home?”
Joe White took the slowly spreading smile on the young Lieutenant’s face as an affirmative.
“Yeah. I thought so. I have arranged for the bodies of those SEALs to be transported in two days time. You can handle the escort from here to Pearl Harbor-Hickam. The requested escorts for the other two SEALs will take over from you there. I take it Hart will be taken to National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific?”
“Yes Sir. He was from Hawaii, so the funeral will take place there.” Steve replied.
“Well then, you can take care of it. Details have already been sent to Hickam and somebody from there will help with the arrangements. Leave has been approved for your team and I’m sure Danny will find an excuse to tag along with you.”
“That, he will, Sir,” Steve agreed. Danny Williams believed that Steve was in constant need of supervision and that he was the one to provide it.
……….
As promised, two days later the military cargo plane transporting the bodies of the fallen SEALs, with Lieutenant Steve J. McGarrett and SCPO Danny Williams as their escorts, took off from Bagram to Pearl Harbor-Hickam on their journey back home.
Unknown Location
Ten days after the raid of ‘Lions of the Valley’
(Fifteen days after Major Sheppard’s Retrieval from Parwan)
"What Happened Human?"
The figure known as Mr. Smith flinched and tried to maintain his less than dignified kneeling position as the Wraith's pissed-off hiss reverberated inside his skull. He felt the dark and slimy presence of the Wraith known as Mind-Reaper pick apart everything that happened throughout the past month with disdain.
Mind-Reaper was not happy that Mr. Smith did not show up as soon as possible when he could not retrieve their Hybrid. Mr. Smith was doing his best to mentally list the reasons for his disappearance; he had to avoid the SGC team in Afghanistan to keep his cover, he had to avoid the other soldiers from the Navy, Army and Air Force who were on high alert, he had to renegotiate with that asshole Wo Fat and crazy Hesse brothers for a change of plan. All of this took time when you had to keep looking over your shoulder. But none of the reasoning was doing anything to placate the Wraith that was busily shredding his mind, giving him the mother of all headaches.
Finally after what felt like hours but was in reality just a few minutes, the Wraith released him and started to pace. Mr. Smith swayed and placed a hand on the floor to keep himself more or less upright while still kneeling. He fought against the nausea and headache and did his best to concentrate on what his master was saying. This was the first time the millennia-old Wraith had ever shown any trace of frustration. The thing barely even moved from its throne during all other reports; preferring just to skim over Smith’s mind to see the plans coming through as directed. And the plans had been coming through as well as they could; even after the fiasco in Canada. Smith had managed to get the things back on track until this stupid pilot from nowhere had gone and destroyed everything.
……….
Now that was a turn he never saw coming. Smith had been standing there in a state of shock, stranded right next to the chopper that was destined to die a fiery death. Smith had known what was coming the moment he had seen the soldier with the radio calling for help. He had barely managed to clear the area before the pre-arranged deadly gift made an appearance. Once he made his return, he had witnessed the SEALs who had answered the SOS, busily securing Sheppard and placing markers for body collection. He had wisely stayed hidden and then gone in search of his masters. And he had found bodies instead. Despite receiving shock after shock, Mr. Smith had gotten on top of the situation and managed to secure and clean up the scene of carnage, before anyone else got any wiser.
‘But the pilot, oh that FUCKING ASSHOLE of a pilot...’
Mr. Smith or any of his agents had still no idea how that slip of a man managed to kill a mated pair of Wraiths. They had done everything they could; except ask for another Wraith master to read the asshole’s mind. That was a risk he had not been willing to take at all at the time. They had interrogated the fucker to hell and back and he had still stuck to his guns stubbornly. Smith had a grudging respect for the man's tenacity. He had sent the blood and tissue samples he collected during the session and their specialists had come up with nothing. No traces of anything in the man’s blood, drugs or otherwise to suggest that he was capable of killing a Wraith. He had even stuck a few Ancient gadgets in the man’s face to check for ATA gene at the end, but again, there had been nothing.
Smith still couldn't figure out how the SGC knew to show up when they did. He had barely managed to escape. The incompetent soldiers he had at Parwan had run the moment the fight began. He had also lost a couple of his agents and he was glad they didn't know anything of worth that they could spill, when the SGC got around to asking.
He had spies at the SGC but none of them had high enough security clearances needed to find out anything about the pilot they had rescued. Smith was quite sure that the pilot was not going to live that long. Most of his internals were shutting down when the SGC team had shown up. And he was sure that even the SGC didn't yet have any technology that could bring back the dead, or the mostly dead. But he had to make absolutely sure. That was the crux of the matter. He had to gain entrance to Cheyenne Mountain and find out if the pilot had managed to tell them anything. If not, he just had to make sure the fucker was gone for good.
While he was at it, he needed to put pressure on his Chinese counterparts to tighten up the security of the beaming tech. That would happen as soon as Smith managed to contact the bastard who had gone into hiding. He was still waiting for a message from 'Valley of the Lions', where the asshole had supposedly hunkered down.
'Talk about escaped horses and open barns.' He sighed to himself.
Now that the SGC knew about the beaming technology, they needed to take some extra precautions on that end as well.
The Wraith was extremely angry at this particular setback. He remembered how his headache pulsed like a thousand knives when it came across that bit. This memory brought him back to the present where he was supposed to be listening to his master; not contemplating his mistakes and solutions.
……….
"You must find him and bring him to me." Smith realized that the Wraith was thinking along the same lines. Or more like reading along, as Smith was busy thinking his thoughts. Smith realized the reason he wasn't dearly paying the price for inattention towards his Master was because the pilot had sparked an interest in Mind-Reaper as well.
"I shall speak to our allies. We cannot have this Stargate Command derail our plans further. Not when we are so close to taking over. You must make sure there are no more mistakes!"
Both verbal and telepathic commands assaulted his ears and mind simultaneously. Mr. J. Smith hurriedly took his leave after the dismissal before the Wraith could change its mind and decide to suck on his life force. He had been there and done that- he was not looking forward for a repeat.
National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, Honolulu - Hawaii
Thirteen days after the raid of ‘Lions of the Valley’
(Eighteen days after Major John Sheppard's retrieval from Parwan)
Steve stared at the grave marker of Freddie Hart, thinking back to the funeral with full military honors that took place six days ago. It had been a harrowing affair and he’d been quietly grateful for the steady presence of Danny, who had been with him every step of the way till the end of it.
They had both been surprised when Kono and Adam had shown up briefly to pay their respects as well. Steve knew Kono was also a Hawaii native, but he never thought she would be there for the funeral. They had both soon departed with promises to keep in touch. Danny had also taken off the next day, to see his family back in New Jersey, after sternly advising Steve to call him if there was any need.
Life had been a whirlwind of activity after his return. Steve had been involved in the funeral arrangements for the first couple of days and then the funeral itself. Afterwards, he had been called to the base at Hickam for more meetings. At the end of those, he had been informed of his promotion to Lieutenant Commander.
So when he found himself today at the cemetery, still in his dress whites and medals that he wore for his awarding ceremony earlier, Steve realized that he just needed to pay his respects in private, away from the grieving friends and family.
Steve let his mind wander back to that day it all started…
Freddie Hart, he had known, would never have gone against orders; moreover he wouldn’t have been scared to death and screaming for help. The Freddie Hart Steve knew, would have armed himself and fought the enemy face to face till death. He would have been defiant to the end.
But people changed, Steve thought to himself tiredly. And he had no clue what had really happened back there. Maybe it was something that even Freddie couldn’t fight against. He simply didn’t know.
He also kept thinking about the mystery Colonel as well. The man didn’t have a reason to lie to him. The Colonel in fact didn’t have to tell anything to a lowly Lieutenant. But he did. Steve was a fairly good judge of character and he had certain instincts about people. The Colonel struck him as an honest man. So he believed that the Colonel was more right than wrong and that something had been off with his friend. And he sure as hell hoped that Colonel Sumner and his military branch would catch the people responsible for the whole fiasco. He had the impression that the Colonel would.
This was again why he wasn’t storming the naval base for anyone who would put him on the trail of John. Steve knew he wouldn’t rest until he found him if he really held John responsible for Freddie’s demise. He didn’t. Because he instinctively knew that John wasn’t someone who left his fellow soldiers behind. The man had proven himself many times whenever he crossed paths with Steve; it had been one of the reasons Steve was drawn to him. And he fervently hoped that wherever he was, Shep was still alive and was being taken care of.
Lost in his private musings, he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps, until they were directly behind him.
Steve reacted purely on reflex. He had only just got back from months of active duty and his reflexes were still finely honed and on edge. He turned swiftly with his service weapon, a Sig Sauer P239 already out and held securely in a two handed grip; pointed squarely at the face of the intruder.
And then he froze completely in shock.
“Hey, Steve.”
After what felt like forever, but was only a handful of seconds in reality, Steve finally registered the fact that he was pointing a loaded weapon at the pale and wide-eyed face of John Sheppard.
He holstered his weapon and took two long strides to close the distance. He saw Sheppard tensing; bracing himself for what was coming his way, but making no move to get away or defend himself.
Steve wrapped his arms around the man who had been a source of constant worry in his thoughts lately, hugging him fiercely. Steve felt him going rigid in his arms. He was clearly not expecting that reaction from Steve and considering their last meeting, Steve couldn’t blame him. So Steve kept holding him tight, needing to make sure that he was well and alive; and right there. Then Steve felt the tension leave the body in his arms as John returned the embrace with equal need and strength, his hands tightening around Steve’s waist.
Steve reluctantly let go of him after a spell, but kept a grip on his shoulders; not wanting to let go completely yet. John kept one hand lightly resting on Steve’s hip.
“How are you, John?” He asked; voice quiet and heavy with meaning.
“I’m alright Steve. I’m fine. Sumner and his team got to me in time.” John replied just as quietly, with assurance.
Steve let go of him and straightened. Then he scanned his friend from head to toe to assert the truthfulness of the statement.
“What in the hell happened back then man? Why did you run away? Who or what the hell killed Freddie? And who on earth beat you half to death and why?”
Now that he knew John was truly well and alive; he couldn’t help raising his voice and nearly shouting all the questions he had, in rapid fire. The past few weeks of frustration, guilt and anger had finally found a proper outlet to boil over.
“Steve, listen. I will answer your questions with what I can. Just… will you please give me a few minutes here first?” John’s quietly pleading voice brought Steve back to the present and where they were.
“Yeah… Shit...yeah… I’m sorry. You want to go and grab something to eat then? After you are done here? Because we need to talk. I'll go wait by my truck over there. ”
John agreed and Steve walked away to wait for his friend. He was going to get some answers at last, Steve thought, as he watched Sheppard standing there by the grave with his head bowed down.
Kamekona’s Shrimp Truck, Honolulu - Hawaii
Kamekona, a big cheery Hawaiian, lifted Steve bodily off the ground as he greeted him with a crushing bear hug. Steve had known the man since Kamekona had turned into a confidential informant for the Police after his brief stint at the prison. Steve’s dad was Kamekona’s handler and with his dad’s help, the big Hawaiian had turned his life around and had discovered a talent for business. He was now the proud owner of ‘Wailoa Shave Ice’ and ‘The Shrimp Truck’ by the beach.
Kamekona put Steve back on the ground, bestowed a saucy grin on Sheppard, and hurried away with a promise to bring lunch on special - along with an even more special 10% discount of course!
They both sat on the wooden benches facing the breathtaking view of the Honolulu beach.
“So they promoted you hah? About damn time.” Sheppard was watching the waves. His hazel eyes were bright and the still unruly mop of hair was dancing merrily in the wind.
“It happens when you bag some big time wanna-be terrorists.”
“Congrats.”
“Thanks.”
They sat in silence for a while.
Sheppard took a deep breath and turned to face Steve, just as Steve was beginning to think that Sheppard didn’t want to talk after all.
“Look, Steve, I’m sorry about what happened to Hart. I know he was your friend,” said Sheppard.
Steve could read the guilt written plainly on his face.
“It wasn’t your fault Shep. Was it?’ Steve asked.
“Sumner told me that they got displaced. It was a planned thing. Your friend or anyone else with him didn’t have a chance. Their cargo transport mission was compromised before they even got to the air and your friend just ended up with the wrong cargo, at the wrong time in the wrong fucking region of the planet.” Sheppard blew out a breath. He was trying to make Steve understand without giving out ops specifics.
“And you?” Steve asked pointedly.
“I ended up in exactly the right place at exactly the right time. I just didn’t know it then,” Sheppard replied quietly and Steve heard the complete conviction in his tone.
“What the hell were you doing, Shep? You clearly planned to evac them when you landed your bird. Then you took off? What the hell happened?” Because this crazy stunt he pulled was eluding Steve’s ability to understand.
“You know, they told me you got an SOS? Was it normal? Did Hart sound normal to you? Didn’t you notice anything off at all?”
Steve was taken aback by the question. How would John know anything about the particulars of that call?
“I didn’t notice at the time. No. Because he was screaming for help one moment and then he was dying in an explosion. It’s a hard thing to listen to over a fucking radio Shep.” Steve concentrated on reigning in his anger, when he spoke again.
“But later, when I talked to Danny, I realized it wasn’t like him at all.”
They both waited quietly when Kamekona returned with their food - garlic shrimp. Sensing the heavy mood between the two men, the big Hawaiian withdrew quickly after placing the food in front of them.
“There were, ah, these elements on the ground. These elements had a certain influence on everybody who was there at the time. Well, except for this one spy. He managed to run before you got there.” Sheppard started recounting carefully.
“So, um, these elements, like I said, they messed with everybody. That’s why Hart did what he did. And then they were targeted remotely. The people who brought them there, blew them up.”
Steve was getting confused. He could not think of anything that could mess with someone’s personality or mind. Wasn’t that what Sheppard was implying?
“Look, I know it sounds crazy. Believe me, I know - because I was going through something similar at the time too and I didn’t even realize it.”
Steve apparently hadn’t covered up his skepticism over what John had said.
“So what did you do then? How did these ‘elements’ mess you up?” Steve asked.
“I went hunting for them and killed them.”
Steve stared.
“Sumner’s people were hunting the same things. Those things had been killing villagers. They didn’t know that I eliminated their targets, until much later.” Sheppard continued.
Now Steve knew what the black-clad Marines in the secured village were doing. Well, as much as he could know.
“So that was why Sumner came for you?” he asked.
“Not really. That was something else entirely and yet connected to the same thing,” John finished with a grimace, realizing he was making no sense to Steve at all.
“Listen man, I've had some time to think through the whole thing and now I know a whole lot more than then. I guess what I’m trying to say is, that if I had to do the entire thing all over again, knowing I was leaving my fellow soldiers behind to die, I would still go after those damn things first, every time. I am just so fucking sorry that I couldn’t get back to them on time. You know I would’ve got them out if not for those explosions.” Sheppard implored Steve to understand.
“So it was that important, that you had to finish these ‘elements’?” Steve needed to make absolutely sure.
“Yeah. Steve, they are bad. I can’t tell you more without violating the hundred paged NDA I signed. But I can tell you that they are real bad - genocide level bad.”
“And Sumner and his people are dealing with this threat?” Steve asked with great composure, tamping down the astonishment he felt at John’s little information bomb.
“I’m a part of it now too and that’s part of the job. To fight these things to the bitter end. To keep this world safe.”
Steve stared at John for a long time; Sheppard held his gaze, willing him to believe.
Steve nodded once decisively.
“Fair enough, John.”
“Just like that?” John desperately wanted to know if he meant it; whether Steve could forgive him. Whether they could move past this and become the friends that they had been, again.
“I trust you. I trust that you had your reasons for what you did and that’s good enough for me.”
Steve watched John’s eyes go a little wide at his words. But it was the plain truth. When all was said and done, Steve did trust him.
John nodded back. Steve watched as relief washed over, brightening John’s whole face and bringing a small but genuine smile for the first time since they met back in the cemetery.
Steve couldn’t help the answering smile he felt twitching on his lips.
They finished their meals in companionable silence.
“So, you got a new job hah? I know this uniform of yours is not from any normal branches. Care to tell me what they call it?” Steve asked with a smirk.
He had noticed John sporting the same, yet a bit toned down version of the same uniform Sumner and his merry band had been wearing. It was peeking from underneath the somewhat baggy jacket Sheppard was wearing. He figured it didn’t hurt to pry a bit and see.
“Ha. I can’t tell you that shit man - it’s classified.” John answered with a wink and Steve was treated to the mischievous crooked grin that he loved seeing on Sheppard’s face.
“Oh fuck you,” Steve laughed.
“Right back atcha.” Sheppard joined in.
Entrance - Pearl-Hickam Base
Honolulu
Steve was officially on leave for two more weeks but Sheppard wasn’t. Sheppard had caught a ride from Peterson Air Force Base to get to Hawaii because he had wanted to visit the grave of Freddie Hart. Steve was thankful for whatever made him wander into the cemetery after his awarding ceremony today. Otherwise he would have never run into Sheppard and they would never have had the chance to properly talk; to get past that horribly unpleasant gulf between them and re-connect. Steve thought that that was the best coincidence that had ever happened to him.
“So what’s next for you?” he asked John. Steve had offered to drop John back at Hickam after the meal when he mentioned that he had to get back to the base. Sheppard had to catch his ride back to Peterson, so he could make it back to Cheyenne Mountain on time.
John was sitting in Steve’s Blue Silverado on the passenger side, making no move to get out, despite the fact that they were already parked by the base entrance.
“I don’t really know Steve. I’m the new guy still. Probably a load of training and shit before they let me into the field again,” said Sheppard.
“You will have people watching your back, yeah?” Steve needed to know.
“Why?” John was curious about the strange question.
“It’s just something my CO told me. According to Sumner, Hart was part of NORAD. Now you are going to Cheyenne. I’m concerned.” Steve replied.
“Hey, it will be fine Steve.” John replied with a reassuring smile. “I’m not saying it’s going to be a safe and cushy job. But yeah, I will have good men on my six.” John promised.
There was nothing else Steve could think to say. He watched John realizing that he didn’t have any reason to keep staying in the truck. He flashed another slight smile at Steve and turned to open his door.
“Ah, fuck it.” Said Steve, before grabbing the man by the collar of his jacket and turning John back towards him. Then he kissed him thoroughly on the lips like he had wanted to do the moment he had seen him standing there by the grave, looking so goddamn alive.
John kissed him back with matching vigor, one hand tightening around Steve’s neck and the other cupping his jaw.
Soft moans intermingled with answering groans as they explored each others’ mouths, tongues battling for dominance. Familiarity of having done this many times, long ago, was taking over.
Neither of them wanted to end it, but they had to part for air. Steve saw that John looked just as wrecked as he felt. He took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself.
“Stay safe and keep in touch whenever you can,” he implored, his voice rough and fingers still clutching John’s collar.
“I will and you too,” John murmured. Then he leaned in and planted another soft, lingering kiss on Steve’s lips before getting off the truck and walking away towards the base entrance.
Steve swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, as he watched the man he had begun to fall for walking away. He prayed fervently that he was not making a mistake by just letting him go - that they would somehow manage to find their way back to each other one day.
Inside a Globe-Master - Military Cargo Transport Plane
En route to Peterson AFB
John had gotten lucky when he had managed to catch a ride to Pearl Harbor the day before in a chopper. Although he didn’t get any time behind the stick, he had enjoyed the ride any way. But now, he was sitting in the cargo area by himself with only the bone-rattling vibrations and the cacophony of noises of the Globe-Master’s shuddering frame to keep him company on his way back to Cheyenne Mountain. He let his mind drift back to the circumstances that led to meeting Steve.
……….
Dr. Lam had managed to worm herself to the top of John’s schedule the next day, after the debriefing session. He had found himself sitting in a surprisingly comfortable chair, in a smaller meeting room in Level 21- led there by Caroline Lam herself. Several other doctors had joined their little meeting, bringing along an assortment of teas, coffee, cookies, sandwiches and even a plate of cheese. It would have been a nice and cozy tea party, if it wasn’t for the subject they had gathered to discuss.
They had dissected each and every aspect of John’s meeting with the Wraith and the following battle. They had several projector screens filled with various renditions of available Wraith and Wraith Drone biology. Some of the drawings and charts had come from Terra Atlantus; John could tell by the little labels and descriptions they had on them in Alteran language. They had accompanying English translations tacked underneath neatly. But they didn’t contain much information other than identifying males, females/queens and some body organs. But the others, mostly of the Drones and some Hybrid creatures, most probably had been done by the doctors. Apart from drawings, they had rather disturbing arrays of photographs they had taken during autopsies of some Drone and Hybrid bodies. John had figured those bodies must have come from battles that caused the other ATA gene carriers to ‘go-online.’
John had helped the best he could. He had pointed out the main weak areas on Wraith biology; area around their necks with the enzyme sacks (oh, so that’s what the gill-like things were, John had realized) and the feeding hand, mainly. He had also realized that he still had information in his head with perfect clarity, when he had known to point out some of the other weaknesses as well. For example, he had known that the Wraith had vulnerable points behind the back of their necks, at their temples and in the genitals, just like ordinary humans. But they also had much thicker hides, almost like an exo-skeletal layer over most of their vulnerable areas. After a recent feeding, this layer would get stronger to such a point that it would be capable of repelling bullets. Only the necks and the feeding hands were uncovered by this natural protection and it had something to do with the feeding process. The Wraith apparently released an enzyme from the sacks in their necks that traveled to their feeding hands. This enzyme would then enter the heart of the human they had at their mercy- making it possible for them to feed the ‘Life Force’ of a human or most of other humanoid races. This enzyme also kept the human body organs from failing too quickly- so the Wraith could enjoy a longer meal.
It didn’t matter that the enemy had vulnerability out in the open like that though; most humans never got even the slightest chance to fight back, once they were in the clutches of a Wraith.
After finishing the discussion on Wraith biology, they had moved on to their mental abilities. John had shared his experience in detail, about the mental resistance and shielding ability he seemed to have inherited. The Wraith seemed to have a certain distance of influence that they could project. The older they got, the more telepathically advanced they became. The pair John had fought had been young and they had about a hundred yard radius of area they could influence, being able to assault any human within that radius. They also seemed to feed on the negative emotions they influenced - but it didn’t provide them any sustenance, only pleasure. John had shuddered, realizing the amount of details that had been stored in his brain, that he found himself sharing with his avid audience.
After they had mined all the details they could from John’s brain, the doctors had moved onto discussing how to incorporate this new information in future encounters with Wraith. John had agreed to interrogate Terra Atlantus further about defense/training against any form of attack from the Wraith, physical or mental. The long five hour meeting had finally ended - the doctors with their heads, notepads, laptops and PDAs full of new information and John sporting another nausea-inducing headache. Lam had taken one look at him; escorted him firmly to the infirmary next door and given him a painkiller. Then she had told him to go eat a proper meal and take a break.
In the late afternoon, everyone at the SGC had received a revised report on the Wraith and an attendance-compulsory lecture schedule, to discuss the new findings in detail.
And the same day later in the evening, John had been informed that he had been granted the requested leave to visit the Arlington and National Memorial of Pacific to visit the graves of the fallen soldiers...
……….
John grimaced thinking about all the things that came to light during that meeting. How he managed to perfectly recall every scrap of data he had been carrying in his brain about the Wraith after ‘coming-online’. These thoughts had been whirling around in his mind on his way to Hawaii, making him think about that call; the call that led to the end of Hart and others, the call that made Steve an unwilling witness to all of it… but helpless to do anything about it, other than to keep talking to his friend till he died…
The more he had thought about it, the more he had realized that it didn’t make sense at all. It had been obvious that something happened to the chopper during its transportation, causing it to crash. But the SEAL he knew wouldn’t have just stayed there like that calling for help; he would’ve been out there fighting. In fact, thinking back to it, John had realized none of them had acted like they were supposed to. John had dismissed everything except for the Wraith - but the SEALs had been scared and screaming for help, instead of getting organized and taking control of the situation, like the trained operators they were. And Smith - the crafty fucker - had run away, because he had known exactly what was coming. John had realized how the Wraith had influenced the SEALs, probably to make sure their little Hybrid creep got to safety first. John had known it all along, but he had dismissed it then; it hadn’t been important at the time.
And when John had the chance to speak to his friend, Steve had confirmed that Hart hadn’t sounded normal, even under the circumstances.
Thinking about Steve brought a wholly different set of emotions to the forefront of his mind. A minor miracle had put the man right in front of John, saving him the trouble of looking for him as he had planned to do. He had finally had the chance to talk to the man and make him understand. As much as he could anyway. John remembered how immensely relieved he had been when Steve had understood. He had said he trusted John…
His lips still tingled when his thoughts inevitably drifted towards the kiss they shared. John was glad he was the only one sitting here in the shaking and shuddering old Globe-Master without anyone to witness him touching his lips, face heating up with longing at the memory. Losing himself in the depths of Steve’s intense green and blue interchangeable eyes, John had desperately wanted to stay there forever. But the reality had intervened; they both had jobs to do and they were both very much dedicated to their jobs. And they both understood this about each other. Unknowingly echoing the same thoughts as Steve, John made a heartfelt wish that they’d find a way back to each other soon.
W-F7/24A - Detention Facility-CIA Black Site
Undisclosed Location
Fourteen days after the raid of ‘Lions of the Valley’
Anton was done. He was just plain fucking done.
“'Trust me, little brother,' he said. ‘This our big break,' he said. ‘Once we pull this off, we are going to be the richest men in the fucking world,’ he said. Oh and what about expanding the business to other fucking worlds? ‘Yeah man, we are going to get off this rock and go to fucking Pandora he said.” Anton was mockingly mimicking the happy predictions that’d been spilling from his big brother’s yap, for the past couple of months. He was working himself up to a good bout of histrionics.
“Well, what about the part where we get our asses handed to us by the fucking army, hah, Vic? Did you forget about the part where we get maimed for fucking life? I told you that creepy fuck, who came like Santa Clause in April, with his stupid face and stupid promises and fucking fairy tales was bad news! I told you!! And let’s not forget about that military fuck who was on our fucking tail for the past fucking forever!” His voice increased the volume steadily as he neared the climax of his rant.
“'Don’t worry about them,' you said. ‘They have nothing on us, they are just sniffing around everyone,’ you said! Well, how about it now, Victor? You have a fucking stump for a hand and I’M GOING TO BE FUCKING LIMPING AROUND FOREVER BECAUSE SOME ARMY FUCK WAS JUST SNIFFING AROUND MY ASS!!! VICTOR!!!”
He was screaming at the top of his lungs through clenched teeth by the time he reached the end of his triad. His jailers didn’t even bother checking on him when he went on his rants anymore. The number of blow-outs had been steadily increasing in volume, profanity and the crying that followed immediately after, as the time spent in captivity slowly broke down Anton’s resistance. Not that there had been much of a resistance from the younger terrorist to begin with.
……….
It had only taken a few hours, with Anton secured to an uncomfortable metal chair that was bolted to the floor in a small dark room with a single light bulb dangling above him providing scant illumination. This clichéd beginning was used deliberately to study the subject’s reactions; then they would use that information to plan a detailed, tailor-made debriefing session specific to the subject, that would yield the maximum results.
The interrogators had been observing him via the live feed through a camera that was hidden in the dark room. They were discussing Anton’s reactions to physical and mental intimidation, when Anton had decided to make things easier on everybody involved. He had started off brave enough; swearing and shouting obscenities at the empty room. But only two hours into isolation with only his vitriol to keep him company, Anton had crumbled and started bawling rather unpleasantly in a way only a grown man could manage. With tears running down his face, mixing with snot and drool, he had begged anybody and everybody who would listen, to come and let him out so he could tell them everything! EVERYTHING!!
The interrogators had done as requested. A Few hours into Anton’s verbal diarrhea on his life and all of assorted crimes he had ever taken part in, the interrogators had to draw the line finally, when Anton started confessing about how used hide in his brother’s closet to watch him have sex. Afterwards, they had just put him in his cell and had left him there. Anton had made it even easier when he started airing all his mental ailments loudly whenever the mood struck him - letting more information about their enterprise slip out. The interrogators only studied the feed from his cell at the end of the day to check for anything new, nowadays.
……….
Anton was on the crying stage of his usual routine now. He was done with the screaming and the anger had turned to fear like it did every time. He was also worried about his brother. Deep down, really, really deep down, he cared about his brother and hoped he was faring better. Anton knew for a fact that his brother was tougher than him and would never break down as easily as Anton did. He felt ashamed that he had betrayed his brother so quickly. But in his defense, HE WAS GODDAMN SCARED! He had never had to do hard things like fighting and shooting or anything else that required physical strength. He was the bloody tech guy. He maintained the records, managed bank accounts, kept records of supply and orders and all other sorts of things that only required a good laptop and a secure internet connection. He was bloody good at his job too. He kept them all undetected and secured, didn’t he? Well, um, until now anyway. Now, all of that was confessed in great meticulous detail, to those cunts outside. Shit! Did he mention he was BLOODY FUCKING SCARED? He sobbed to himself.
1500hrs
Unbeknownst to Anton, or any other soul at the facility, a strange white light appeared about fifty yards away from their establishment. When it dispersed, it left behind a group of rather unusual individuals.
There were twelve of them.
One was freakishly tall and thin; his white hair flowing past his shoulders. He was rather young for his species. His cat-like eyes blinked rapidly to get rid of the effects of the light. He shook his head once and shot an arrogant look over his shoulder to his counterpart from their allies.
Father had been quite serious when he ordered Claws of Vicious Death on this mission. He was to make nice with them and help them as required because the allies had a problem and Claws had to make sure their tenuous alliance held.
‘So, I get to finally witness the Snakes in action. Ha. I hope they are as worthy as Father seems to believe,’ Claws of Vicious Death thought to himself in disdain. His two guardian Drones took positions on either side of him and stared ahead blankly through their masks.
Standing next to Claws, but with a respectful distance away to make space for his bodyguards, was an ordinary-looking human. With his average height, average weight, and very much bland features, he would’ve passed for a generic clerk in any office. But that was where his ordinary humanness ended. He was one of the hosts for a race of sentient symbiotic parasites called the ‘Goa’uld’. This one called himself ‘Montu’ and had been appointed by his master to take care of their business on earth. But he had been having trouble fulfilling his master’s wishes due to the meddlesome bunch of Stargate Command. Then he had come across the species called the ‘Wraith’ and managed to strike up an alliance only a few months ago. After some careful negotiations and somewhat reluctant technology sharing from both sides, he had been able to get his grand plans back on track. Now he was here in person, to sort out the most recent glitch. But he knew this time things would get done in a much easier manner, thanks to some help from his new friends. He was not looking forward to disclosing this little side project to his master though; but he hoped that he would be able to convince Ba’al, of the advantages these Wraiths could bring for their ultimate goal.
‘If only these Life Suckers had a little less pretentious names! I think convincing my master to utter those ridiculous things is going to be the hardest!’ He suppressed a shudder at the thought.
Gerak, his First Prime, was waiting patiently with the seven other Jaffa warriors they had brought for this venture, for Montu to give the order.
“My friend, Claws of Vicious Death.” He hid the grimace at the mouthful. “If you would kindly stir trouble in that little nest of humans? So that my warriors can retrieve my servant, most importantly the information he carries,” he inquired of the young Wraith politely.
“As you wish.”
The Wraith hissed an acknowledgement. Then directed his gaze towards the human detention facility, his entire body going completely motionless.
Claws directed his mind into the humans he could sense inside the facility. He detected three prisoners and left them alone for the Jaffa to deal with. There were twenty-eight other humans in the facility including the security, and he took perverse pleasure in instilling utter terror in each and every little mind. He thoroughly enjoyed the screams, the whimpers, the begging and the useless prayers that erupted throughout the facility, following the mental assault. He fed on their fear and the misery emanating from everywhere and basked in the glory of destruction he caused in all those delicious little minds.
He gave a satisfied shudder and came back to himself.
“If your warriors could bring back a few humans along with your servants please, Montu? I find that I’m in need of sustenance after expending my energy. And my servants need to feed as well,” Claws requested.
‘There. Father should be proud. I even said please,’ the Wraith mused privately.
The Goa’uld instructed Gerak to get on with it and bring back a snack for the young Wraith as requested.
The team of Jaffa returned with the three prisoners and five other humans within ten minutes. The whole facility had been in a state of chaos in the aftermath of the Wraith’s telepathic attack. It had been a walk in the park for the seasoned Jaffa warriors to kill them all and retrieve what they had been sent for. Once they were back with their leader, Gerak activated the bomb they had placed before they had evacuated the facility.
The white light took them all back to where they came from, in a bright flash.
Another bright light flashed ten seconds after their departure; this time, the light was accompanied by a fiery explosion.
When the authorities finally reached the site, alerted by the light and sound of an explosion, only a perfect fifty-yard radius circle of scorched and blackened earth remained.
There were no signs of W-F7/24A - Detention Facility, to be found.
Montu’s Al’kesh - Spaceship - Earth Orbit
Positioning unknown
The day after the destruction of W-F7/24A - Detention Facility
Montu found the non-stop screaming that erupted from that one nasty little human, extremely annoying. He had directed both of them to be stunned and placed in the brig. He didn’t know yet why his servant had insisted on bringing them with him. But he would know soon enough.
He watched dispassionately as the human servant known as ‘Wo Fat’ struggled against the restraints holding him securely to the gurney. It was such a futile battle - he was going to be serving a much higher purpose, soon enough.
Then he motioned the Jaffa to continue. The Goa’uld, Nerus, needed the host and Montu needed the information this little human carried with him about his operations. More importantly he needed him to stop failing in the future. This was the best solution for his problems. He would tolerate no more failures. His master would not take kindly if Montu were to delay his plans any further. What with Nerus being a scientist and all that, Montu was sure he could use the extra brain power his master had kindly sent his way, to keep things firmly on track.
Besides, he was now in debt to his Allies. One had to keep note of such things when one was involved in certain kinds of alliances with certain kinds of individuals. Now Montu had to pay the Wraith back for their support. He would contact his agents of the 'Trust' and make arrangements for another meeting with the agents of 'Keepers Collective.' The new and improved 'Wo Fat' would be ready and more than capable of handling that pesky Mr. Smith. This was what the Mind-Reaper requested in exchange, after all.
Well, more like demanded, but it wouldn't help Montu if he went nitpicking on such things. He had the big picture to worry about. The damnable SGC that kept wreaking havoc in his life, and the consequent threat of his Master's displeasure hung over his head, as a direct result. It was a good thing that the Wraith had the same thorny problem. Enemy of my enemy and all that...
'Ah, maybe this blossoming alliance will be the beginning of a beautiful friendship after all...' Montu reflected philosophically. And then laughed out loud at the ridiculous notion, heartily. 'As if that would ever happen!'
But Montu was a forward thinker and he had plans upon plans for contingencies already in place. He was quite sure Ba'al would be pleased - very pleased indeed.
0 notes
Sol’s Veins
The sound of metal to hot ore rang through the smithery in the late day, sun slowly setting on another day in San Miguel.
2 weeks were passed since the high of winning against Jourmungandr. The town was beginning a routine of regrouping, after so much chaos was passed. Immortals were slain, the beast sealed, and all alive.
Fssssssh…!
Metal was rapidly cooled in water, emerging a bright golden hue. Django took it to the next table, adding the proper handle and grip to the blade. With care, it went into the sheath. “Thanks again, Smith. Sorry for taking so much time…” Django said quietly.
The man set aside his smithing hammer. “Come now, you never take too much, Django,” Smith set a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “I appreciate the good challenge!”
Django gave a small smile, nodding. “I know..” He glanced at the door, “I’m going to go on patrols, test out the blade a bit. I’ll see you later.” He gave a better smile while weaving out of the smithery. Smith gave a sad smile as he watched the boy go. He knew what was eating the child.
Without the Sol De Vice, he wasn’t able to do magic. Without magic, he was back at square one.
Smith shook his head. Poor boy must have felt so alone…
The Catacombs were quiet. Quiet as ever, just as silent as they used to be years ago.
Django walked the halls, running his hand along the metal as it turned to stone. Ringo used to use these halls to train him in avoidance combat. The Four Warriors, Cheyenne and family, taught him obstacles and how to get over them; elements, and how to counter them.
All the extra effort, time away from guarding, because he couldn’t use magic. The new Solar Boy, only able to use a gun.
He was a Dead Sun. Useless on his own.
Django meandered to a drop off in the caverns before the back exit to the Remains Desert. Stalagtites covered the ceiling, stalagmites on the unraised floor, last peaks of sunlight dying the desert in oranges and blues. He sat himself on the ledge, just before it tapered outside. He was cautious of the new sword on his side as he did.
His hands rested on his lap as he leaned on the wall. A bare right hand felt…foreign after all this time. Made the feeling as it’d fallen to pieces all the worse.
Clatters, clunks, and clangs of metal. The loss of weight as he’d returned from the Spiral Tower. No designs existed; it couldn’t be recreated. He gave a deep sigh, wiping his eyes when he felt them welling up a bit. No, no he wasn’t going to cry over this, he just had dust in his eyes…
…?
……!!
His heart skipped a beat as he felt some kind of little Darkness. Django looked up and out, eyeing the desert. Nothing there…He turned, looking behind himself and inhaling sharply when he saw a Crimson Bok a bit away.
With caution, he scooted off the short ledge and out of view. Must have been a straggler.
The new sword is drawn, Django sneaking along the wall and up the stairs. He was focused now, carrying the golden hued blade close as he tip toed around. The Crimson made some chirps while it twitched. Then a shriek, throwing it’s head back. Such bizarre behavior…
Django raised the blade, feeling it draw out his energy to create the Sol element in the sword. A small whistle sounded before a sickly crack as the blade crossed the “bone” of the Bok.
…But not enough to fall it. It lodged a third of the way through the torso.
Oh Sol.
The Undead shrieked. Much worse now, like a tortured cat. Smoke erupted from the contact, shoving back against the assailant as the thing opened it’s maw, readying liquid Klorofolum.
The blade was ripped back, shearing more of the Bok. Django moved quick, going back through the Catacombs, scarcely avoiding the deep red sludge that was lobbed at him. Through twists and turns, the Solar Boy ran, stopping 3 rooms away behind a pillar. The Bok screamed as it stumbled and gave chase.
Silver eyes looked down at clenched hands before looking to the ceiling. He could see clouds through a skylight, taking a few shaky breaths. Felt like deja vu; he’d been in this situation before. Down traught, low before a Bok…
…But he’d pushed on before.
Try again. Just try again.
The Bok screamed as it found the Solar Boy.
Just try...!
Warmth (almost searing, like a floodgate was opened..!) ran through his veins as Django swung again. This time, full through the torso.
And it burned...!
The burning smell of Undeath filled the air as the red monster collapsed. His blade clattered on the metal floor. Oh Sol, his arms were burning..! Oh Sol, he–
He was using magic.
Bright gold enveloped his hands, left pulling off the right sleeve to his attire. Veins glowed vividly, color trailing up his arm, half up his biceps.
He was using Sol Magic.
…Kind of hurt though, like…it’d been building, building, ready to burst forward, and now it was all coming out at once.
Tears came from his eyes with happiness. The sleeve was shoved into his pocket, sword grabbed (still a bit hot..!) and sheathed, Solar Child taking off running. Up, down, doorway, up stairs to the night air. Deep blue coated the sky, with a sliver of moon surrounded by starlight. There was a stumble in his excitement, scuffing knees and hands as he entered Mall area boundaries, but getting right back up, just like an excited child.
Another flight down, and he was at the smithery, still glowing. “Smith, something–!” Django exclaimed as he opened the door, stumbling in, “Something happened–!” He looked around, noting it was empty. “Smith?”
“Went home, something up Django?” Cheyenne had come out when he heard a seemingly frantic Solar Boy. “Hey, turn the DeVice off, there’s no Un..,” The glowing was more apparent as the blonde stood forward as he closed the door, “Deaaaa–you’re glowing!”
The blonde waved his glowing arms around, beaming with another wave of happy tears coming on. “You’re glowing!,” the Wind Warrior laughed, “You little late bloomer! Come ‘ere!” The Wind Warrior gave a bear hug to Django, lifting him a bit with rough pats on the back. “Ringo would be so proud!” Cheyenne exclaimed as he put the boy down. “But he was proud of you no matter what. Yet, just, look 'atchta!” He looked close at the gold, but didn’t try to touch. Heat just radiated from him!
Django gave a wide smile, enlarged canines showing with his beaming pride. Father would be proud no matter what, that he knew, but it was something else about the magic. Not just pride alone, to why it was so important…It made him feel human, connected to his ancestors. Sol was their element–and now his too.
Lonesome, but not nearly so now, with the gold in his veins.
5 notes
·
View notes
New Post has been published on https://cookingtipsandreviews.com/the-healthy-brownie-recipe-every-sweet-tooth-needs/
The Healthy Brownie Recipe Every Sweet Tooth Needs...
amzn_assoc_placement = "adunit0"; amzn_assoc_tracking_id = "makemoneyq-20"; amzn_assoc_ad_mode = "search"; amzn_assoc_ad_type = "smart"; amzn_assoc_marketplace = "amazon"; amzn_assoc_region = "US"; amzn_assoc_title = "Shop Related Products"; amzn_assoc_default_search_phrase = "cooking"; amzn_assoc_default_category = "Kitchen"; amzn_assoc_linkid = "51fe4d035c7af8dc5928e6f5e5b79c4e"; amzn_assoc_default_browse_node = "284507"; amzn_assoc_rows = "4"; amzn_assoc_design = "text_links";
Eating well doesn’t mean sacrificing all of your favorite foods. This healthy brownie recipe is here to satisfy your cravings while helping you stay on track.
Few desserts satisfy like a fudgy brownie. Chock full of rich chocolatey flavor, these decadent treats are often considered diet-busters. That’s why we searched high and low for a healthy brownie recipe that would satisfy our cravings while keeping our goals in mind. Here’s what we found.
Did you know you can make healthy pancakes, too? Learn how.
Can Brownies be Healthy?
Traditional brownies are by no means a health food. They often call for butter, sugar, flour, chocolate and other not-so-good-for-you ingredients. Though you’d be hard-pressed to find a brownie that’s as healthy as a bowl of fruit, there are substitutions that can make brownies healthier without sacrificing their classic taste.
In our recipe, we use black beans to give the treats moisture and an extra protein boost. We also cut back on the amount of oil and sugar traditionally found in brownies.
Try our healthy cookie recipes, too!
What You Need:
1 can (15 ounces) black beans, rinsed and drained
1/2 cup semisweet chocolate chips, divided
3 tablespoons canola oil
3 large eggs
2/3 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup baking cocoa
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/8 teaspoon salt
Step 1: Prep the Pan
Start by lining an 8-inch square baking pan with parchment paper, making sure the paper overhangs the edges of the pan by a few inches. This will make it easier to remove the baked brownies. Preheat the oven to 350°.
Editor’s Tip: Parchment paper is crucial for this recipe. Since the brownies don’t contain much fat, they’re more prone to sticking. The parchment acts as a buffer and makes the baked brownies easy to remove in one piece. (P.S. Leftover parchment? Here are some genius ways to use it.)
Step 2: Blend the Beans
Next, start making the brownie batter. Place the beans, 1/4 cup chocolate chips and oil in a food processor. Cover and process the mixture until blended.
Step 3: Add Remaining Ingredients
Then, add eggs, brown sugar, cocoa, vanilla, baking powder and salt to the food processor. Cover and process until smooth.
Step 4: Place and Bake
Transfer the batter to your prepared pan. Sprinkle with remaining chocolate chips and bake for 20-25 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool on a wire rack. Use the edges of the parchment paper to lift the brownies out of the pan and cut into bars.
How Do You Make Avocado Brownies?
Black beans are an option for making healthy brownies, but they’re by no means the only one. The trick is to find a healthy substitute for the butter or oil your recipe calls for. You can use mashed avocado, applesauce, bananas, Greek yogurt, cooked beets—whatever you’d like!
If you’re cutting back on the sweet stuff, consider replacing some of the white or brown sugar with coconut sugar, honey, agave or maple syrup. These sweeteners are more natural and better for your waistline than processed sugars.
What is the Best Brownie Recipe?
If you’re looking to indulge for a special occasion, try our Ultimate Double Chocolate Brownies. These beauties are loaded with chocolate chunks, chopped pecans and fudgy flavor. They’re our best-ever brownies!
Find more yummy brownie recipes here.
Chocolate Mint Brownies
One of the best things about this recipe is that theses mint chocolate brownies get moister if you leave them in the refrigerator for a day or two. The problem at our house is no one can leave them alone for that long! —Helen Baines, Elkton, Maryland
Get Recipe
Ultimate Double Chocolate Brownies
As someone who grew up in the country, I love getting out into nature whenever I can. I also love home-style recipes, including these yummy brownies. —Carol Prewett, Cheyenne, Wyoming
Get Recipe
Caramel Brownies
I love to cook. My family can’t possibly eat all the sweets I whip up, so my co-workers are more than happy to sample them—particularly these rich, chewy brownies that are full of gooey caramel, chocolate chips and crunchy walnuts. —Clara Bakke, Coon Rapids, Minnesota
Get Recipe
Fudge Nut Brownies
There’s no brownie recipe or mix I’ve ever tried that’s better than this! And it’s so easy—you can mix it in one bowl in just a few minutes. My husband’s grandmother passed the recipe on; now our son makes these brownies for after-school snacks. —Becky Albright, Norwalk, Ohio
Get Recipe
Frosted Fudge Brownies
A neighbor brought over a pan of these rich brownies along with the recipe when I came home from the hospital with our baby daughter. I asked her how to make brownies like that, and I’ve made them ever since for family occasions, potlucks and parties at work. —Sue Soderlund, Elgin, Illinois
Get Recipe
Cappuccino Cake Brownies
If you like your sweets with a cup of coffee, this recipe is good for you! These no-nut brownies combine a mild coffee flavor with the richness of semisweet chocolate chips. They’re a quick and easy dessert or anytime snack at our house. —Mary Houchin Swansea, Illinois
Get Recipe
Chocolate Crunch Brownies
The first time I took these brownies to work, I knew I’d better start making copies of the recipe—they disappeared fast! My husband and kids gobble them up quickly, too. —Pat Mueller, Mitchell, South Dakota
Get Recipe
Fudgy Oat Brownies
These cake-like brownies have a rich crunchy oat crust and a smooth homemade chocolate frosting. A packaged brownie mix makes the recipe easy to prepare. You can make it even easier by using canned frosting. —Diana Otterson, Canandaigua, New York
Get Recipe
Cinnamon Brownies
For Christmas one year, a friend gave us a pan of these delicious brownies. Before I figured out their secret was cinnamon, half the pan was already gone! —Gail Mehle, Rock Springs, Wyoming
Get Recipe
Fudge-Topped Brownies
If you love brownies and fudge, why not combine the two? Mix up a pan of these exquisite brownies for any holiday or special gatherings…or just when you want to treat yourself to the ultimate chocolate dessert. —Judy Olson, Whitecourt, Alberta
Get Recipe
Cookies & Cream Brownies
You won’t want to frost these brownies, since the marbled top is too pretty to cover up. Besides, the tasty cream cheese layer makes them taste as if they’re already frosted. The crushed cookies add extra chocolate flavor and a fun crunch. —Darlene Brenden, Salem, Oregon
Get Recipe
Cream Cheese Swirl Brownies
I’m a chocolate lover, and these cream cheese brownies have satisfied my cravings many times. No one guesses the brownies are light because their chewy texture and rich chocolate taste can’t be beat. My family requests them often, and I’m happy to oblige. —Heidi Johnson, Worland, Wyoming
Get Recipe
Candy Bar Brownies
Two kinds of candy bars baked into these brownies make them an extra special treat. —Sharon Evans, Clear Lake, Iowa
Get Recipe
Peppermint Brownies
My grandmother encouraged me to enter these mint brownies in the county fair many years ago—and they earned top honors! They’re a chewy treat to serve during the holidays. —Marcy Greenblatt, Redding, California
Get Recipe
Berry-Patch Brownie Pizza
I just love the combination of fruit, almonds and chocolate that makes this brownie so unique. The fruit lightens the chocolate a bit and makes it feel as though you are eating something sinfully healthy. —Sue Kauffman, Columbia City, Indiana
Get Recipe
Candy Bar Cheesecake Brownies
I came up with these brownies as a way to use up my son’s leftover Halloween candy. You can tint the cream cheese orange for a spooky touch. —Elisabeth Larsen, Pleasant Grv, Utah
Get Recipe
Fudge Brownie Pie
Here’s a fun and festive way to serve brownies. Family and friends will love topping their pieces with whipped cream and strawberries. —Johnnie McLeod, Bastrop, Louisiana
Get Recipe
Coffee ‘n’ Cream Brownies
A friend gave me the recipe for these rich cakelike brownies topped with a creamy coffee-enhanced filling and a chocolate glaze. I like to garnish each square with a coffee bean. —Michelle Tiemstra, Lacombe, Alberta
Get Recipe
Cookie Dough Brownies
When I take these rich brownies to any get-together, I carry the recipe, too, because it always gets requested. Children of all ages love the tempting “cookie dough” filling. This special treat is typically the first to be gone from the buffet table—even before the entrees! —Wendy Bailey, Elida, Ohio
Get Recipe
Black Bean Brownies
You’d never guess these rich, velvety chocolate treats contain a can of black beans. Who would have thought black bean brownies would be so amazing? —Kathy Hewitt, Cranston, Rhode Island
Get Recipe
Broadway Brownie Bars
I named these dessert bars for Broadway because they’re a hit every time I serve them. I especially like to make them as a gift for anyone with a sweet tooth! —Anne Frederick, New Hartford, New York
Get Recipe
Double Chocolate Orange Brownies
I have to give my husband credit for this idea—since we love chocolate and orange together, he suggested I come up with this recipe. Now they’re not only his favorite, but also the whole family’s. I’m always asked to bake these brownies for family gatherings. —Elinor Townsend, North Grafton, Massachusetts
Get Recipe
Mini Brownie Treats
I like to take these quick-and-easy treats to potlucks and family gatherings. They disappear quickly! —Pam Kokes, North Loup, Nebraska
Get Recipe
Double Chocolate Coconut Brownies
Thanks to a head start from a mix, it’s easy to bake up these crowd-pleasing treats. It’s hard to stop at just one brownie, but don’t worry—my recipe makes 30 servings! —Brenda Melancon, McComb, Mississippi
Get Recipe
Banana-Split Brownies
How’s this for a dish—all the joy of a banana split without the mess. Everything in my recipe fits into one pan of delectable brownie bars. —Connee Sheckler, Chestertown, Maryland
Get Recipe
Fudgy S’mores Brownies
I combined the perfect, simple summer snack with my favorite brownie recipe to get a treat that’s sure to wow at your next big party. —Judy Cunningham, Max, North Dakota
Get Recipe
Frosted Brownie Pizza
It’s impossible to eat just one piece of this dessert pizza with a chewy, chocolaty crust, creamy peanut butter frosting and mouthwatering sweet and crunchy toppings. It’s warmly received wherever I take it. —Paula Riehl, Boise, Idaho
Get Recipe
Chewy Cream Cheese Brownies
Brownies are a common dessert in our household – they’re just about the only form of chocolate my husband will eat! I love this version that makes a big batch and has a rich cream-cheese layer in the center.
Get Recipe
Frosted Turtle Brownies
Homemade brownies are a sweet addition to the appetizer table on game day. Your guests might forget the score, but I guarantee they’ll remember these treats! —Sherry Miller, Columbia Heights, Minnesota
Get Recipe
[skyword_tracking]
amzn_assoc_placement = "adunit0"; amzn_assoc_search_bar = "true"; amzn_assoc_search_bar_position = "bottom"; amzn_assoc_tracking_id = "makemoneyq-20"; amzn_assoc_ad_mode = "search"; amzn_assoc_ad_type = "smart"; amzn_assoc_marketplace = "amazon"; amzn_assoc_region = "US"; amzn_assoc_title = "Shop Related Products"; amzn_assoc_default_search_phrase = "cookware"; amzn_assoc_default_category = "All"; amzn_assoc_linkid = "b45319dac495d29e17b5eff312392025";
Source link
1 note
·
View note
Descendants, Chapter 21
-----
When Holtz woke up the next morning, she groaned.
“I got way too drunk, didn’t I?”
“Yep,” said Abby. Holtz felt a cold bottle of water pressed against her forehead. A bottle of pain reliever she suspected was lovingly being placed next to her chest.
“Bless you,” said Holtzmann, whimpering.
“I had to call Kevin to come get you upstairs after we got Patty and Cheyenne a cab,” said Abby. “You wouldn’t listen to me or Erin, but you couldn’t complain when you were being picked up and carried. Although you did bang on him a few times with your fists. I think it amused him.”
Holtz whimpered again and popped two of the pain reliever into her mouth and took a sip of the water before turning on her back.
“Please tell me I didn’t do anything that warranted my picture being placed on the wall behind the bar or the police being called.”
“Not this time. You were quite happy up until the point that Patty had to pull you away from fussing out a woman when you were way past tipsy.”
“What about?” frowned Holtzmann.
Abby sighed. “You overheard her say something about how disgusting it was that I was there at the bar drinking when clearly all I had was a glass of water.”
“She deserved it then,” shrugged Holtz. “You can’t just sit at home.”
“Not when someone’s got to drag you back home after you started singing Pink’s anthology at the top of your lungs at the table. You were putting on quite a show.”
“AGAIN?”
Abby nodded.
“You even got Cheyenne and Erin to join you this time. They made good backup seat dancers.”
“... At least I wasn’t alone.”
Abby laughed to herself and patted Holtz on the shoulder. Holtzmann took that moment to put down the water and medicine on the bedside table beside her. She went frigid when she heard Abby cough loudly with what sounded like an irritated throat. She reached up and felt of her wife’s forehead, ignoring the flinch Abby made as she did so. She was very warm, and her skin was flushed.
“You’re sick.”
The brunette sighed, which made her cough again. “It’s just a cold Holtz. I probably picked it up last night.”
“Probably from the lady that was fussing about a pregnant woman being in a bar. I’m going to call the doctor and see--”
“It’s just a cold.”
“You have a fever, Abby. You remember the conversation we had with the nurse a couple of months ago about immune systems being suppressed when you’re pregnant?”
“Ugh, I hate when you’re being overprotective,” said Abby, getting back under the covers. Holtz snorted at that, pulling the comforter and sheet over her own head and got forehead to forehead with her wife. It was then she noticed that Abby was completely dressed and had taken the blanket off the bed and wrapped herself in it.
And was still shivering. Holtzmann sighed, shaking her head.
“You’ve got chills, Abs. I’m really calling the doctor.” Holtz got out of bed. “You should have gotten me up sooner, even with the hangover.”
“Then you’d turn into a worrywart, which is what you’re doing now. You need to rest too.”
“Yes, but there’s a reason. You’re actually not well,” Holtzmann said, going into the bathroom. She came back with the digital thermometer from their first aid and sick supplies. Holtz pulled down the covers and handed it to her wife. Abby pulled the covers back up and the blonde heard the beep of it being turned on. She grabbed a quick shower and got dressed, putting her hair up quickly. She came back out and found that Abby had poked her head outside the comforter. Holtzmann looked at her wife, gesturing to the thermometer on the bedside table.
“102.3.” Holtz went to the other side of the bed and started to hand her the Tylenol bottle. Abby shook her head. “I’ve already taken them,” she said. “I’m not a complete idiot. Just one that’s really tired of physicians.”
Holtz nodded, feeling slightly sympathetic. But only a little.
“Can you go wake Erin up?” asked Abby. “She fell asleep on the couch after Kevin got you upstairs. Didn’t want to get near her again since I could possibly still be contagious.”
“It’s a little too late for all of us if it’s the flu,” said Holtzmann. She decided to be a little mean to her wife. “You do realize honey that the flu can cause premature labor, don’t you? Shall I start packing?”
“I’m burning every single one of your mix tapes,” said Abby. “So help me Jills.”
Holtz grinned and skipped once or twice out of the room. Erin was still asleep on the couch, snoring a little. Holtzmann went over and shook her shoulder.
“Go home, Gilbert.”
“Ugh,” said Erin, wincing as she woke up. “Why--” Holtz shook the Tylenol bottle still in her hand.
“Want one?”
“Five,” she mumbled, moving some hair that had gotten stuck to the side of her face. Holtz handed her two and sat down the bottle.
“Might want to get your sick supplies ready,” said Holtz. “Abby’s picked up something. I think it’s probably the flu. She’s got a fever and she’s shivering.”
“Wasn’t that last client of ours sick too?” Erin said. “The one who kept seeing a floating cat.”
“Yeah, she was probably hallucinating the cat part. But that floating vapor she was not,” said Holtzmann. “And that’s probably where the flu was picked up from.” Holtz looked at Erin when she heard her laugh.
Erin pointed down to the coffee table in front of her. “I think someone was already ahead of you.” Holtz looked down and saw two pills on a napkin, a bottle of water, and a small pack of pretzels.
“That’s not fair, I didn’t get any pretzels,” pouted Holtz.
“That’s because I’m her best friend and you’re just her wife,” said Erin with a small smirk. She stuck the two pills back in the Tylenol bottle and opened the water. She took the other two and picked up the snacks. Holtz gestured to the pretzels.
“I could fix breakfast if you’d rather have some eggs and bacon than stale salty bread.”
“I’m good,” said Erin. “I don’t think I can stand bright lights at the moment, but I’m good. You two going to need anything?”
“The ability to kick whoever gave Abby the flu despite the fact that she got a flu shot?”
“Not all flu strains are covered, you know that.”
“I do remember college biology, thanks.”
“Go make some tea, make sure she’s comfortable,” said Erin.
“I’ve got to call and get an appointment,” Holtz said automatically. She noticed her cell sitting on the coffee table. She went to grab it when Erin put a hand over hers.
“Let Abby make it. She already feels helpless as it is these days.”
Holtz hesitated, knowing the logistics of such. That would mean Abby wouldn’t call and--
“Stop thinking,” said Erin.
“That’s like telling me to turn off my life.”
“She’ll do it if she feels it's necessary,” Erin said. “And don’t turn off your life. You two are cute together.”
“Not planning on it honey bear,” winked Holtz. “I have a family to take care of. Someone got to look after you and Patty.”
Erin scoffed at that. “You mean someone’s got to look after you and Abby and Patty. Which is what I do.”
“I think out of all of that, Patty’s the one looking out for all of us,” said Abby, walking into the room. She had wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. She coughed a little to clear her throat of congestion.
“Morning Erin.”
“You are sick,” said the redhead. “Come sit Abby.”
“I thought I’d come relax on the couch a while,” sighed the brunette. “Anyone want to watch a movie?”
“That’d be better than going out in all the people shopping like crazy,” said Erin. “Thanks for the pretzels.”
“I’ll make some popcorn,” said Holtz.
“Not in the lab please,” said Erin.
“We do have this little thing in the kitchen called a microwave Erin,” said Holtz. “I’m not sure if you’re familiar with it, but...”
Erin stuck her tongue out at Holtzmann, who grinned and went off to the kitchen.
“You want some tea?” Erin asked Abby gently. “I could make us some.”
“I’ll do it,” said Holtz. She started filling up the kettle and putting it on the stove.
“I was going to say that’d be nice, but my wife beat me to the punch,” said Abby. The popcorn was already popping and it was starting to smell good, what little she could actually smell through the stuffiness in her nose.
“You need to be resting,” said Erin. “You’re just starting the onset of symptoms.”
“I am sitting down, so I am resting,” said Abby. “I just want to think about sickness and babies as little as possible over the next couple of hours.” Erin nodded and picked up the remote for the TV off the coffee table.
“Pick us a good one at least,” Abby said, getting comfortable.
-----
They ended up watching Gravity, which had turned into a discussion after the movie about the science and whether it was plausible with all the new advancements in the field of aeronautics. It ended up starting a debate between Erin and Holtz which left Abby smiling at her wife and best friend’s banter. Her head was on a pillow in Holtz’s lap, and it didn’t take long for her to drift off, all wrapped up in a couple of blankets. It was only when they heard a slight wheezing sound did they realize that Abby had fallen asleep.
“Took her long enough,” said Holtz softly, looking fondly at her wife. She tucked a loose strand of her behind her ear.
“I think she was enjoying the movie and the discussion,” said Erin. “She likes Sandra Bullock.”
“Pffffsh,” said Holtz. “You didn’t see us watching The Heat. She liked Melissa McCarthy more.”
“I’m sure,” said Erin, amused. She looked at Holtz. “At least with the new laws about maternity leave fully in place now, you two are going to get 12 weeks of paid time off from the city for the baby after it's born. It’ll help get some more movies in.”
“You going to tell Abby to take maternity leave?” said Holtz. “Because I’m not. It was bad enough getting her to limit her time around our equipment and the lab.”
“You both need to,” said Erin. “To spend time bonding with your child.”
“Is it bad of me to want to run when I think about us and childcare? I mean, a kid, Erin. Changing really stinky diapers. Learning to make really crappy mac and cheese. Wait, I like really crappy mac and cheese. Uhh... Feedings every two to three hours. Never sleeping again. Actually trick-or-treating on Halloween instead of buying candy at half-off the next day.”
“Mmhmm,” said Erin. “A beautiful child with really cute dimples and curly brown hair all dressed up in a lab coat telling everyone they’re a scientist.”
“Of course. Each year, a new female scientist,” said Holtz. “That’s obvious Erin.”
They both sat still when Abby went into a coughing fit in her sleep. But once it was over, she settled back down. Holtz rubbed her shoulder.
“I’m going to have to start investing in mini lab coats.”
“Honestly Holtz... are you really going to try to have a kid yourself after this? Like, really soon after?”
“Well, that wasn’t personal at all, Gilbert.”
“Sorry. Abby told me that since you two really didn’t think you had time with fertility and such. But don’t you think you need to devote a little time to raise this one for a little while?”
“The thought has occurred to me, yes.”
“And?”
“Everything’s still up in the air,” shrugged Holtz. “This one’s still cooking. Anything could happen in the future. I could get pregnant. I could not get pregnant. There could be a miscarriage. Maybe Abby has the second one. Or Patty could win the Nobel Peace Prize. Or you two do for the Yates-Gilbert Equation. Maybe I lose a leg in the lab. Maybe Patty loses a leg in the lab. Poor Patty. Or--”
“I get the point, Holtz.”
“Good,” yawned Holtzmann. “Ms. Nosey.”
Erin gestured in the air. “I’m not trying to. I honestly just need to know these things for the business. Personally, you and Abby could have 15 more kids and I wouldn’t care.”
Holtz flailed and pretended to put a hand over Abby’s ear that was facing up.
“Not in front of the pregnant woman.”
Erin leaned her head to the side, realizing something. “You really... you don’t want to get pregnant, do you? You like Abby being pregnant.”
Holtz looked sheepish. ‘I did... in the beginning. But I have discovered I have enjoyed watching the experiment grow from the outside. I’m not violently opposed to the idea by any means, and I’m pretty sure Abby is intent on me getting pregnant just to get back at me for the fact that she did get pregnant. So yes to your observation. Both of them.”
“Revenge... children.”
“No, revenge gestation. There’s a difference.”
“I swear you two are like children yourselves,” said Erin, shaking her head. Holtz pushed a piece of hair back behind Abby's ear.
“Which is why we’ll be the best or the worst parents ever.”
“I’m seeing family Halloween costumes,” smirked the redhead. Holtzmann shrugged.
“You know, you should really talk to David about you two having a kid. Then everyone could grow up together. Abby really likes the idea of our kids growing up together.”
Erin shifted in her seat uncomfortably.
“You-- you don’t want kids?” asked Holtz. Erin leaned forward and looked to see if Abby was still asleep. She leaned back, relieved.
“David and I talked about it. Honest talk, I didn’t just agree with him. And neither one of us are really kid people. We like the idea of taking a vacation when we want. No school plays, no constant sickness, no babysitters. Lots of wine bottles in the fridge. We like the quiet.”
Holtz looked skeptical over her glasses.
“But no drawings on the fridge, juice boxes, and homework. No gold stars for achievement and you teaching them physics at a young age. Science fairs that you know they’d win just out of the sheer awesomeness of their mom.”
Erin looked wistful for a moment at Holtz’s words.
“I know when you’re lying Erin.”
She sighed. “You sound like Abby.”
“It's because we’re thinking the same thing.” Holtz paused. “I’m probably the worst person for this, but talk to him. Really, really honestly Erin. You want to do this.”
Erin looked down at her best friend, who was still in deep sleep. Even all covered up, she could tell Abby’s left arm was wrapped around her abdomen, holding her child like she should be. She sighed.
“I’ll try.”
“Good,” said Holtz. “You said they were going to be gone all weekend?”
“David won’t be home till Sunday night.”
“Want to watch another movie? I’m kind of stuck here for a little while.”
“Sure,” said Erin, smiling. “You are comfortable.”
“Napping on Abby is way better,” said Holtz. “But it’s my turn to be the pillow.”
<– Prev | Next –>
1 note
·
View note
Grace
Disclaimer: Some names of people and places have been changed for privacy reasons
“Cheyenne!”
I turn around and a long-haired little girl comes barreling across the room and into my arms. I hug her as tight as I do every Wednesday night when I come to the town;s humble church to tutor my favorite first grader. The large meeting place turned cafeteria has large round tables with folding chairs filling the space. The small windows toward the top of the walls don’t let in much light, but the bright LED bulbs make up for the absence of natural light.
“How have you been, Grace? I missed you this week,” I tell her. She giggles and tells me that she missed me too.
“I made you something at school today!” She exclaims.
“Oh, you did? What is it?”
“It’s a surprise. Close your eyes.” I close them as tight as I can and I hear her digging around in her backpack. Finally, the rustling of papers stop and she taps my shoulder to let me know I can open my eyes. I open them and in front of me is a hand drawn picture of two girls, one tall and one short.
“It’s me and you!” she says as she hands it to me. “I made it during free time at school. My teacher helped me spell the words.” I look at the top of the page and “I love you this much” was scrawled in her sloppy handwriting.
“See, my arms are out like this because I love you thiiiisss much.” She holds out her arms for another hug. I hug her tight once more. This is the last time I'll see Grace and I don't know how to tell her. The Study Buddy program is coming to an end for the school year, and I won’t be able to volunteer again next year. I decide that I won't tell her until it is absolutely necessary. My heart breaks at the possibility that I won't see my little Grace again. I can feel the sting in my nose as I fight back the tears.
"Come on, let's go get some dinner, okay?" I pull away from her so she can't hear my sniffling.
"It's mac and cheese today!"
I remember the shy and scared little girl who was assigned to me for Study Buddies at the local church at the beginning of the school year. I remember praying for a girl when they were reading the names off on that first night. I mean, I would have been happy either way, but something about tutoring a young girl made me excited. I wanted to be a role model for her. And plus, all the young boys in this program were bouncing off the walls 24/7. I didn’t think I could handle their never ending energy for very long. But when they called my name and I walked up to the front of the room and saw Grace, my heart immediately felt both elated and saddened at the same time. I was ecstatic that I was assigned a her, but she was so scared that first day. Unlike many of the other kids who had been a part of this program for a while, this was her first day, too. The program leader, Val, introduced me to this very nervous looking child.
“Cheyenne, this is Miss Grace.” Val placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “And Grace, this is your new study buddy, Miss Cheyenne.” Grace stared at her feet. “Why don’t you say hi to her.”
Without glancing up, Grace spoke in the quietest voice, “Hello, Miss Cheyenne.” I bent down to her level and smiled. “You can just call me Cheyenne if you want.” Grace looked up at me for an instant and then back down at the floor.
“Okay.” She said.
Watching her now, bouncing through the meal line, talking with all of the other first and second graders at a million miles an hour, smiling, laughing, it’s like she is a completely different girl. She is much more outgoing and confident than when I first met her. I’d like to take some credit for that. It makes my heart full to see her so happy and unafraid. After getting her tray, she practically spills her juice fast-walking back to our table.
“Be careful,” I warn her, but I can’t hide my laughter.
“I’m sorry, mac ‘n cheese is just my favorite and I couldn’t wait!” She flashes the brightest smile as she shoves the first spoonful into her mouth. “Aren’t you gonna get some?” She mumbles through her cheese filled mouth.
“I already ate before I came,” I answer her. She shrugs and continues eating her meal.
I hadn’t eaten before. Truth is, I was too nervous to eat. Trying to figure out what to say and when to tell her that I probably wouldn’t see her for a while, if ever, left my stomach churning. She finishes her last bite as Val claps her hands.
“Okay everyone, time to get started. Let’s all throw our plates away, please.” I grab Grace plate for her and stand up.
“I’ll get this tonight. Just grab your backpack and we’ll go pick a spot upstairs to do your work, okay?” She complies and we make our way up the stairs to the kids rooms. Our favorite couch is taken tonight and Grace pouts. “Ugh, I wanted to sit there!”
“Hey, it’s okay. We have to give some other kids a turn on the couch, right? We can’t hog it every week.” She sighs and picks a table on the other side of the room, near the coloring station. This girl loves to color. Every time we finish her homework and reading, she makes a beeline to the coloring station to get some crayons and paper. The church didn’t have coloring books, so I’d draw the outlines of trees, or stars, or farm animals, and she would color them in.
For that past Christmas, I had spent hours upon hours making a special gift for her. She had told me once that she didn’t have any coloring books or crayons at home, and that gave me an idea. I stayed up for hours the night before I saw her for the Study Buddy Christmas party, drawing outlines of scenes for her to color in and even printing out some free Disney coloring pages I had found online. I compiled them all into a book, bought her a huge pack of crayons (you know, the 64 pack with the sharpener on the back — the one all the cool kids had), and wrapped it all up with a big bow. She opened it the next evening and she was confused. I had to read the cover of her new coloring book out loud before she understood what it was.
“It says ‘Grace’s Coloring Book.’” I pointed out each word as I read them aloud to her. Her eyes lit up and she squealed with delight. She put the book down carefully and wrapped her thin arms around me as tight as she could.
“It’s perfect,” she whispered to me.
That was about five months ago and since then, we’ve colored a page together every Wednesday night. Each page a collaboration between the two of us. When the book was all colored up, I bought her a new one. And when the book was all colored up, I bought her a new one. Each page a collaboration between the two of us. I’ve been lucky enough to receive a page or two from her as presents and I proudly hang them in my dorm room.
But tonight, we will not be coloring. Grace has an ungodly amount of math homework for a first grader. “What are these teachers thinking?” I think to myself. I help her through the math as best as I can, because sometimes I even struggle with first grade level mathematics. Then it’s on to geography. I help her identify all the states she has learned so far and she tells me their capitols.
After we finish her last page of work, she zips up her backpack and then looks at me with a gigantic smile. I know what she wants. I turn around to the bookshelf behind me and pluck out the same book we read together every Wednesday night, Where do Balloons Go?. We take turns reading each page out loud. She struggles with a particularly large word, and I help her sound it out.
“Sk-” I say. She repeats
“-eye”, “-eye”
“-scer”, “-scer”
“-ape”, “-ape”
“-er!” she finishes. “I remember now! It says skyscraper!” She giggles and continues onto the next line.
It’s amazing how far she’s come since she first started. Before I started tutoring Grace, she was below her grade level in reading. She could hardly read any of the books the church had in their small children’s library. I had to scour the shelves for something for her to start with. Now, I’m not crediting myself for teaching her to read, but I could tell she wasn’t getting any help from anyone else. Her teacher had too many students to be able to focus on Grace specifically. Her mother has two other kids, another on the way, and is too busy to help her with school work. I think I was the only one available. Having the appreciation for reading that I do, I was happy to help this young girl become a more efficient and passionate reader. By the time our tutoring was over, she had caught up with the other students and was now equal with them in level and able to join their reading group instead of being assigned an easier book all by herself. I was so proud of her. I still am.
Hearing her read words she had struggled so much with only a few months ago fills my heart with joy. She celebrates every word she learns and every book she completes. This book, Where do Balloons Go?, was even more special for one other reason. It had stickers. And not only normal stickers, but they were, as Grace called them, “magic stickers.” They could be removed and reused over and over again. This meant that every time she successfully read the book, she’s allowed to play with the stickers in the back of the book. She was able to create her own story with these stickers and it’s always a really fun way to end the night.
Val comes up the stairs and announces that since this was the last Study Buddy session for the school year, we will be taking a group photo in the gymnasium. I suck in a sharp breath and hold it in for a few seconds. I was having so much fun reminiscing my time with Grace and reading with her that I had almost completely forgotten. This is my last night with her. My class schedule for the following school year does not leave room for the weekly Wednesday night Study Buddy hour..
She grabs my hand and says, “Come on, we have to get a good spot!” I let her pull me along and the other leaders usher us to our spots for the photo. We are two of the first people to be placed in our spots which means we had a little time to wait before the photo was taken.
“Cheyenne,” Grace says in her smallest voice.
“Yes?”
“Are you coming back when I go back to school next year?” She looks up at me and waits for my answer. Damn her puppy dog eyes.
“I’m not sure,” I lie. I knew I wouldn’t be back, but I didn’t — no, couldn’t — admit that to her. I didn’t want to leave her without hope. But, I knew that wasn’t fair to her. Tears well up in the corner of my eyes and threaten to spill over.
“It’s okay, Cheyenne. I’ll miss you, too.” She hugs me and buries her face into my side. I bend down and hug her back tightly. In the last moments I spent with Grace, a flood of thoughts overrun my mind. This girl has impacted me infinitely more than I ever thought imaginable. Grace has taught me that I should never give up and to work through my problems even if I become frustrated. As I watched her overcome her obstacles with reading, she taught me how to overcome my own struggles. She taught me what it’s like to love someone else and that friendship can come from all people of different sizes and ages. Grace will always have a place in my heart no matter where I am. And as the photograph is taken, Grace whispers, “I love you, Cheyenne,” and I swear every muscle in my heart breaks.
1 note
·
View note
This slideshow requires JavaScript.
The 2020 Virtual Woody Guthrie Festival came to a close this past Sunday, putting a wrap on a bold journey into unknown territory for the Woody Guthrie Coalition and the annual fest. Following an impressive all-star line-up of songwriters on Tuesday and Saturday’s broadcasts, the invaluable Terry “Buffalo” Ware got the Sunday show underway with his rollicking “Plain As Day” and some extra fun picking. Next up, Melissa Hembree joined by her pals, Michael Hurd on mandolin and Bruce Metcalf on acoustic bass, performed a great poignant new song, “Okfuskee” down in front of the Woody statue in downtown Okemah. It doesn’t get more fitting than that. Or does it?
Andy Adams made his case, by delivering a stunning version of Jimmy LaFave’s “Music From the Motorcourt,” that does a fine job of capturing the after-hours hotel parking lot scene that really inspires so many. I really enjoyed Adams’ albeit brief performance at the Old Church here in Perkins, OK just a few months back, and have tuned into several of his own livestreams since. Keeping with the LaFave theme, Adams closed out his segment with another of the beloved songwriter and mentor, the aptly titled, “Woody Guthrie.” Up next, the multi-talented, Ali Harter with an older song she indicated she had recently dug out, “Anti-Political, Unpolitical Song.” Not only a gifted songwriter, Harter also designed this year’s logo and merch via her Pigs Fly Shop, and all her endeavors certainly deserve your attention. OKCs K.C. Clifford performed next, straight from her home’s staircase with a really great song that I believe to be titled, “Remember When.” I haven’t taken the opportunity to catch Clifford live yet, but now I certainly know I need to. You probably need to as well. Tell her I sent you. Robert Williams came next, with a nice sing-a-long on Woody’s “So Long, It’s Been Good to Know Yuh” and was followed by the wonderful, Susan Herndon performing her take of the traditional, “This Train is Bound For Glory.” Need a pick-me-up? Williams and Herdon’s songs should do the trick. Following up on their duo performance on the opening night, Travis Fite and Monica Taylor returned with Fite on vocals for Woody’s “Dust Pneumonia Blues,” which has always been a personal favorite of mine from the vast Guthrie catalog. Great, fun version.
Also returning from Saturday’s show, was another song from Betty Soo. This time, a stunning rendition of her own “Henry & Me,” which just stopped me in my tracks and was one of my favorite songs of the festival. I’ll definitely be digging more into this gifted songwriter’s songs soon. With a perfect Terilingua backdrop, good ol’ Butch Hancock was back with well wishes, a bit of hope and a Flatlander’s cut, “One Road More.” Next, Nellie Clay served as our Okenah tour guide in a great production type clip accompanying a soundtrack of Clay performing Woody’s “Ranger’s Command.” Nellie’s choice of song while visiting the Crystal Theatre, the Pastures of Plenty stage and Guthrie’s homestead for the clip, was just exactly perfect. Jared Deck followed, with his soulful “Mountain Valley Road” that had me wishing for at least one more. Instead, Jaimee Harris was back with “On The Surface,” and a short tale detailing the travels that took her from Terilingua, to Okemah to Taos and Eliza Gilkyson’s home. Harris’ stripped down performances were a highlight throughout the festival, and this version was no different. Definitely take the time to listen. Joel Rafael also returned again, this time with a nice version of “Glory Bound,” followed by the sounds of the Red Dirt Rangers and “Strawberries and Watermelon.” Bristow, Oklahoma’s Cassie Latshaw next performed, what I think is titled, “Hide Away” with her friends Steven and Paul and gave me yet another Okie songwriter I really need to catch soon. Annie Guthrie was back with a new song, one she indicated was still being worked out, and well, she doesn’t really care if you have an opinion about it. Keep it to yourself friend. Right there, the spirit of the Guthrie family was perfectly represented, and despite her likely disregard for this writer’s opinion, it’s a damn fine song.
Gypsy Twang comprised of Sarah Barker Huhn, and Steve Huhn, as well as John Williams and Craig Skinner, added a beautiful version of Woody’s “Ramblin’ Round.” Next, Larry Spears’ “Puppeteer” and it’s Dylan-esque cadence, proceeded to blow me away. Just a great song, look it up. Leading us into the closing stretch, Ken Pomeroy presented her inspired tale of Dylan and Baez, titled, “Joan.” It’s been so much fun watching Pomeroy develop as a songwriter, and even when she covers a song, as she did next with “Deportees,” she unmistakably leaves her fingerprints all of it. I can’t recommend her Horton Records debut release, “Hallways” enough, so be sure to look it up. Jacob Tovar returned from his barn for Tom Skinner’s “Crystal,” while R.T. Valine, with birds accompanying delivered a timely take on “Wish This World (Would Settle Down), while his good boy, Wino, kept watch. In the Oklahoma music scene, I doubt there;s a more valuable asset than Kyle Reid. Besides fronting his own endeavors, Reid has played a part in countless local shows and recordings. Reid’s tent set last year with his Low Swinging Chariots was a highlight, and I always look forward to any opportunity to hear his contributions, which thankfully happens quite frequently here in the OKC area. For this year’s fest, Reid recorded a great original, “Dance Alone” and followed it up with Woody’s Hobo’s Lullaby.”
Throughout the pandemic, Carter Sampson has been right there, doing her part to help keep us sane, and maybe herself too. I’ve probably tuned into more Carter livestreams this year than anyone elses, and there’s a couple of reasons. First, she’s performed nearly 60 of her “Happy Hour w/Carter & Bubba,”, and second, each one has been outstanding. Along with her faithful, canine rescue, Bubba, Sampson provides great songs, stories, Shel Silverstein and well, hope. Hope that all this will someday end. Here, Sampson and Bubba perform a great version of “Queen of Oklahoma” and her more recent, “Rattlesnake Kate” from “Lucky” on Horton Records. Next, Peggy Johnson performed a pair of songs that always hit me hard, “One of the Ones” and “Dustbowl Lullaby.” I just discovered Johnson at last year’s fest, and I’m so glad I did. Closing in on the end, Michigan’s Chris Buhalis dropped in again with another brilliant song for the “Working People,” and introduced himself as a new favorite that I must become more familiar with. Any songwriter that can include a line about Bob Gibson’s fastball high and tight, is on to something. The great Greg Jacobs came up next from Greg Johnson’s Blue Door in Oklahoma City for a loving take on “Do Re Mi,” and a poignant version of his own, “Footprints” before our host Terry Ware wrapped up this years recorded performances for the year with the traditionally played Hoot for Huntington’s, sing-along take of Bob Childer’s “Woody’s Road.”
Like everything else in this crazy world right now, this year’s festival was different, and not quite what any of us wanted. Thankfully though, it did happen. I know I needed it, our community needed it and undoubtedly the performers needed it. Any sense of normalcy has to be grasped, and thank goodness the Woody Guthrie Coalition came through for us, because it really helped. Throughout the broadcasts, performer after performer mentioned how much they missed, and how much they look forward to actually sweating it out at the festival next year. Count me in. Next year’s Woody Guthrie Festival will hopefully return with live performances from Okemah on July 14th -18th. A huge thank you to all the 2020 festival artists, supporters, contributors, Friends of the Festival and Coalition members. The fact that together, all of these people were able to convey the sense of family and spirit over a livestream process, is nothing short of amazing. It really shows the depth of dedication and the love of the music that each one of these beautiful people possesses. I really missed seeing everyone this year, and eagerly look forward to the next time we can all get together. As always, an extra loud thank you to all the members of the Festival Board of Directors: President Randy Norman, Vice-President Gary Hart, Dana Gunn, Miranda Huff, Fred Ellert, Cheyenne Felker, Lindsey Flowers, Maddie Gregory, Roger Hostenbach, Roger Osburn, Dennis Whiteman and Guy Zahller, and lastly, of course, the Guthrie Family. Special people, each and every one.
The 2020 WoodyFest stream can still be viewed until the end of the month on Youtube here: https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=woodyfest+2020 and the Coalition would definitely appreciate any support via donations and 2020 fest merchandise. All the information can be found here: https://www.woodyfest.com.
Show Review: Woody Guthrie Festival 2020 (Virtually) Celebration Continues (Pt. 3) @woodyfest #andyadams @mhembreemusic @terry-ware @jaimeeharris @alihartermusic @KCClifford @cartersampson @kenpomeroy @gypsytwang @joelrafaelmusic @reddirtrangers The 2020 Virtual Woody Guthrie Festival came to a close this past Sunday, putting a wrap on a bold journey into unknown territory for the Woody Guthrie Coalition and the annual fest.
0 notes
Atlanta Georgia Cheap car insurance quotes zip 30344
"Atlanta Georgia Cheap car insurance quotes zip 30344
Atlanta Georgia Cheap car insurance quotes zip 30344
BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare quotes: : http://freeautoinsurance.xyz/index.html?src=tumblr
RELATED QUESTIONS:
Is there a big defference between the quote and final price of car insurance?
If I get a quote fro geico $300 a month, how much will I be paying for my actual monthly bill? Will there be a difference at all?""
Estimate how much will car insurance cost me?
Im 16 and will be getting my license soon. I was thinking about buying a 1998-2002 pontiac trans am V8. Im a male driver. About how much will it cost me for full coverage or liability(spell check)
Should my car insurance have been suspended?
Hi guys Basically,my car was written off just before Christmas,and yet despite contacting my insurance company,they continued with the policy.I haven't had a car for the last 6 months and so have effectively lost the last 6 months of car insurance.It was paid for in full at the start of the policy and so I am obviously not happy. Any help would be greatly appreciated-need to know how to complain (if I have any right to) and generally what to do next.Thanks""
How reliable is erie auto insurance?
How reliable is erie auto insurance?
My car insurance policy are affordable because it base on a old 000 Toyota. I sold the Toyota but not reporti?
To insurance, is it legal""
What is the best life insurance for a young person 22-35?
I want to be able to use it against my mortgage. Is it possible to get money from it and not have to pay it back after a while or something? And will that change my policy in anyway?
What happens to your insurance rates if your car is stolen?
What happens to your insurance rates if your car is stolen?
How much will car insurance cost for a teenage guy?
How much will car insurance cost for a teenage guy?
How much does having a reliable car and insurance effect child visitation through the courts?
Here in California
Teens what kind of idiot buys a car with no Insurance?
Oh and this person that did this was black. White people will insure everything because they git money AM I RIGHT?
Why is my car insurance so expensive?
I'm 18 and I drive a 2008 dodge caliber. I've been paying 200+ a month on insurance and I'm sick of it. I will be 19 in the summer and have had my license going on 3 years. I have a clean record accident free and incident free. Will my payment ever go down? It's bad enough I'm already a poor college student lol.
Do I need a California driver's license to deliver pizzas in California? (Domino's)?
Just interviewed at Domino's and everything seemed to go well, but afterwards I realized my current driver's license is in the state of Nevada and not California (since I am just here attending college). I anyone aware if this will be a problem for insurance issues or something?""
""Is it possible to get insulin for a type 1 diabetic with no insurance, medicare or medicaid?""
My fiance has type 1 diabetes. He gets food stamps, but doesn't qualify for SSI for some reason. He's only 26. I am the only one working, getting minimum wage, and little hours. We can't afford to pay a doctor $100 just for them to tell him he has what he knows what he has, and to get a prescription that cost twice that. It just seems like a vicious cycle we cant get out of.""
What auto insurance covers for pizza delivery?
i just got a pizza delivery job, but my insurance won't cover it, and she said that most if not all auto insurances do not cover it.... obviously people deliver pizza, what company covers pizza delivery?""
Cheap motorcycle insurance?
I am an 18 year old male in southern CA and I wanna know what is the cheapest motorcycle insurance for a 2006 yamaha r6 (crotch rocket) and where can i find it?
Help with motorcycle insurance?
Hello. I am looking into getting a motorcycle, because I have had my motorcycle license for oooooo about 2 days now. I am just wondering if someone can help me with some insurance questions that will better help me decide what kind of bike to buy. For instance does the size of the bike differ in price? For instance if I got a 250 cc bike would I pay alot cheaper then one that is 1100 cc's? And what about make and model? Would a Ninja be cheaper to insure then a honda? Just kind of curious. And what would be the cheapest bike to insure. Further information. I am 24 years old. I have been insured with state farm in my personal vehicle for about 7-8 years now. Unsure if they offer motorcycle insurance, just started looking.I really like street bikes, really hate sports bikes. I am just l;ooking for the bare minimum insurance as I just want to ride and be legal rather then wasting a bunch of money on insurance. I know I have alot of questions, but anything will help me. So someone let me know. Thanks!""
How much will my car insurance be?
I'm not looking for the most accurate answer around but how much will my car insurance be around if these are the deciding factors. -Mustang GT -I am a male -year 1998-2002
How much will my insurance go up in Georgia?
ok so i recently got a ticket for going 45 in a 25 in georgia i am 19 years old and i am living with my parents and i am on my parents insurance. i am insured on 4 cars full coverage 2005 dodge ram 2010 lexus hs250 a 2005 ford expedition and a 2011 ford mustang v6 this is my first ticket i have ever gotten that has given me points any help would be great thanks
How much Do you pay for Car insurance every month?
and what car insurance you have?
How much of a difference per month for car insurance is there between a sports car and a regular car?
How much of a difference per month for car insurance is there between a sports car and a regular car?
The cheapest car insurance?
Hey everyone!! I'm planning to get my first car, and i was wondering what is the cheapest possible car insurance in Utah and nationwide. thanks!!""
Getting car insurance (complicated case)?
Alright, so this is my story. I am getting new Mazda3 next week. I am 19 years old male (my dad is paying for car). My mom will pay for my insurance (full coverage). The problem is, my mom and my stepdad are divorced, but she is driving car he bought and she is paying him for that car, so she is under his All-State insurance. Now I need insurance and what to do? We obviously dont want to put my name under my stepdads insurance. Someone said to my mom that she should get new insurance (for example Progressive) for my car under her name, and then put me on her insurance, though she would never drive Mazda3, because I go to college in different town. The person said this way we would not pay as much as if Id open insurance under my name. Now and advices. Thank youOh and another question. If, let's say, car is bought under my moms name, can I get individual insurance under my name? Or only the owner of the car is allowed to do that? P.S.: please dont try to talk me out of getting ne""
Life insurances?
types of insurance available in USA
Can I buy motorcycle inssurance and not have parents know about it?
I'm 22 I live in my own apartment but my parents pay car insurance can I get a seperate insurance for a motorcycle and not have my parents know about it, also my friend who rides said bike insurance can be very cheap I just want minimum coverage how much would it be, thx!""
Does it matter how old your vehicle is to get full coverage insurance in oklahoma?
1996 chevy cheyenne
Atlanta Georgia Cheap car insurance quotes zip 30344
Atlanta Georgia Cheap car insurance quotes zip 30344
Is a tree house covered under insurance?
We are thinking of creating a tree house to use as a office and need to know if it is covered under the home owner insurance or will new insurance and coverage be required. Bonus: Will property tax go up?
Cheapest moped insurance? UK!!?
I've just purchased a moped and would like to know what you people thought was the cheapest insurance provider for me to go with. thanks
First time Car Owner Getting Insurance?
So I live in Massachusetts, going to school in Utah this summer. I'm not under parents policy, and have to start my own policy. The thing is that I found a good deal but it's in Arizona. With a Mass driver's license, Can I buy a Utah insurance to cover the AZ registered car, before I got it registered in Utah? See I have 2 twists here, Mass resident wanna drive a AZ registered car in Utah. of course I will have to change the title/ registration under my name, but I'm asking how should I cover insurance before the car gets completely legit in Utah. Hope you can understand my problem. PS: I know I don't have to convert to a Utah License, but I can if it's absolutely necessary.""
Insurance on a 1999 saab 9-5?
My dad says if I bought one the insurance rates would be extremely high even if we put him as the primary driver??? I'm 18 and irs either this or a 92 camaro will it be that expensive??
Do you pay for car insurance before you use it?
i want to switch car insurance but i just paid it for the month. do i get that back?
Where can i get cheap car insurance?
uk
Young driver insurance quote?
Hi guys I was checking insurance for myself for when I passed my test in December and I have been quoted 3500. Now that was with my mum on insurance as a second driver. On my own it was 3600 on an Reno Clio 2000 1.2L. I'm 18 and only live with my mom. We're not made from money so I won't be able to pay that much for insurance. Is it this'd high because I'm from Poland (been in UK for 7 years) or is it because I got it from one of the comparison websites (compare the market, go compare). All answers are appreciated and thanks for reading. Jake""
Insurance BIN Number?
I need to bring my insurance information to the pharmacy in order to get my prescription costs down. They asked for me to bring several numbers, such as ID #, Group #, etc. I got that, but it also asks for a BIN # . I don't know what that is or where to get that info, is it on the insurance card (I have Blue Cross)? I hope someone can help because I'm in a bind. Thanks, Patrick""
Is mental health treatment covered by insurance?
Is counseling and drug therapy typically covered by insurance in the United States? Thanks!
Renters Insurance? What Kind? Is it really worth it?
I am renting a condo from a friend, got a good deal, just signed the lease, he recomended that i get Renters Insurance because he said damages I make to the place or to other owners in the condo I am responsible, even if something happens to me, the insurance would help. Now I would like to know any good insurance agents (e.g Geico) should i get Renters/or Condo , not new to this, want a good rate yet want good coverage for damage, fire, theft you know.""
What is the best..or cheapest...?
Car insurance? I wanna know the best. And i wanna know the cheapest. Thanks!
Will the insurance company total my car?
Sadly I hit a deer over the weekend. Everyone is ok but I totaled the deer. The front end of my 2007 Dodge Caliber is all tore up. The preliminary estimate for repair from the auto body place is around $7,700. (That is before actually taking everything apart or testing anything including the engine.) I am unsure of what value my car is currently to the insurance company. I checked Kelley Blue book and the trade in value is around $8,500. Private party value is around $9,600 or a little higher.""
What are some cons of medical doctors not taking insurance?
What are some cons of medical doctors not taking insurance?
New driver trying to get insurance... Quote for 1750 in November... Why has it gone up to 4400 now?
Hello all, I'm 17 years old (male) and passed my test earlier this month. In November I just thought I'd get a rough figure for insuring a 1.2L Corsa (2001)... I got a quote from Quinn Direct for 1750 (I put in the details as if I had already passed etc). So yes, more than the car is worth, but my parents and grandparents were willing to help me out with it, and I was pleased. So, Christmas has been and I thought I'd get looking... I went back on to Quinn Direct and now for a 1L Corsa (2001)... The quote is 4450!! That is ridiculous! It's true, I'm a 17 year old male... Bla bla... But 4450 for a 1 Litre car? All my friends are with Quinn Direct, and their 1.3L Fiesta's etc are only 1900 to insure! Gocompare and all those don't give me much better quotes either. I've also done the Pass Plus. Can anyone shed some light on this please? Thanks!""
Car insurance help?
Ok so im about to turn 16. my parents said they would get me a car, but only if i paid my own insurance. can u please tell me how much it would be a month. and what company would be the lowest price. i dont know if u need this info but. im 16. white ( someone told me it matters?), i live in florida (palm beach county), and the car will probably be an audi a4. thanks for help""
Where can I find affordable dental insurance?
I am 24 years old, full time student with no job. I am need of dental work ASAP. They are trying to charge me over $2,000 for extracting 4 wisdom teeth and i cannot afford it.""
When you pay off a credit card is it better to reduce the credit limit or close the account?
I've heard that once you pay off a credit card you shouldn't close the account to keep a good credit score. I've also heard that even though one pays off his credit card reducing the credit limit is also not a good option for keeping a great credit rating. What is the best way to handle this situation if you don't really want the card around to prevent you from running the balance up, but also don't want to hurt your credit rating. Is there any way to find out what exactly affects one's credit score? Examples: Let's just say a website or book states something like filing for bankruptcy subtracts XXXX amount of points from your credit rating. Defaulting on credit card payments for XXX amount of months subtracts XXX amount of points from your credit rating. Paying off federal student loans adds or subtracts XXXX amount of points from your credit rating. Also is there anywhere that states how long certain things stay on your credit report?""
Whats the name of the song on the geico motorcycle insurance commercial with the cavemen?
whats the name of the song on the geico motorcycle insurance commercial with the cavemen?
Insurance through the military?
My dad was in the USMC back during the Vietnam War and is now on 100% disability. I was approved for the Dependents' Education through the GI Bill and now I'm wondering if I can get low-cost health insurance through the military as well. I'm 18 and am his only child living at home. We live in New Hampshire and I am currently going to school full time. Like I said, he is on 100% disability through the VA and I was looking at the US Family Health Plan at Martin's Point but I'm not sure if he has to be on the plan so it would be a family plan or if I could do it as an individual plan. He is covered 100% but has to travel like 2.5 hours away to go to Togus in Augusta but I'm not sure if I would be covered in any way through any of this or if I could at least get affordable health insurance through him? Thanks for reading and thanks in advance for any of you who attempt to answer my questions! (:""
How can i drive a car from florida to ny with temporary plates?
i want to buy a car in the state of florida. iam a ny resident with ny license and was wondering if i buy a car in florida how can i get tags and all that to drive to ny. i dont have insurance as of now
Sportbike Insurance...?
Where is a good place to have motorcycle insurance through. My husband is looking into buying a Suzuki gsxr and we are trying to find something cheap or reasonable.
Do salvage title cars have cheaper insurance premiums?
Do salvage title cars have cheaper insurance premiums?
Any good/affordable individual health plans for me and unborn baby in Connecticut?
My boyfriend and I are moving to Connecticut in Nov. from Seattle area. His plan can't be renewed until next summer. I got laid off in July and am currently on COBRA plan with my former employer ($350/month). The carrier is Kaiser Permanente. The HR told me there is no Kaiser in NY/Connecticut area and recommends me to buy individual health plan with other companies. Anybody knows good health plans for young and healthy woman (with a baby coming) in Conn. area? Thanks in advance!
What is the cheapest price university in California to study Power Plants for international student?
I'm holding Diploma certificate in Airframe and Power plants, i need to continue my study in US, CAL exactly but i didn't find the perfect university i need a low price university which i can get bachelor degree in it so i need a help please as soon as possible to get start soon.""
Need help to get the cheapest car insurance possible for a 17 year old?
I just turned 17 and I am gutted because I have had to hold off on my driving lessons as I have the money for the lessons and the car but the insurance is WAAAAY too expensive. for cars like a ford KA or a smart car the insurance is between 3500 and 5000! is there anyway to lower this? how much would it go down by if i went on a family members insurance etc. please help. what kind of car will have low insurance.
Atlanta Georgia Cheap car insurance quotes zip 30344
Atlanta Georgia Cheap car insurance quotes zip 30344
How much would I pay for my yearly motorcycle insurance?
Thank you for your time. I am a 18 year old freshman university student living in Canada and I am really interested in buying a new motorcycle. I recently got my M1 and I will be going for my M2 next, so I am still kinda inexperienced. I looked at a few motorcycle websites and a couple of them read that motorcycle insurance is affected by age, experience, driving record, bike engine, etc. I figured that a medium sized engine probably wouldn't cost too much so I looked at a bike with 600cc. I am not worried about the initial cost of the bike since my scholarship money out-pays my tuition and housing by an excess of $4000. Also, I have had no history of accidents in cars or anything. I was wondering, based on my history and my status, what would be a good approximation of the yearly insurance I would have to pay given that I am a student and I am looking at a 600cc bike? Any input is appreciated.""
What if I am pregnant and I don't have insurance?
I live in California if that helps any. I am 18 years old and was supposed to start my period a few days ago. I already live on my own in an apartment with my boyfriend and we are nervous about if I were to et pregnant how would we pay the bills? Is there anything we can do do get health insurance quickly if we find out that I am pregnant? Would we get approved fast enough and would people even approve me? How does that all work? Thanks
Will an insurance company know if I leave another insurance company without paying?
I am actually on my mom's policy, (we split the bill) and we are unable to come up with all the money they want(two months payments) totaling $1200.00. today is the cutoff day on our insurance now. she told me just to go to a different insurance company. her name is the name on the insurance we have now, so i don't think they will find out, or will they? please help!""
On average what is the rough price for bike insurance ?
its more just curiosity at the min as I've not settled on a bike I want I'm more that likely gonna get a ninja 250r, does anyone know or guess what the insurance wud be , I've ?[A class provisional] thanks for ur time guys""
AFFORDABLE auto insurance?
I'm 19 and I really need some car insurance. Everywhere I get a quote from requires that I pay an arm, a leg, and my first born son. Is there anywhere that won't do that? I'm currently unemployed, and I need a car to get a job, but I need a job to get insurance (this expensive insurance) for the car that I can't drive (legally) until I have the insurance. Somebody freakin' help me.""
How much will my insurance raise after DUI and totaled vehicle?
I totaled my 2005 Jeep Wrangler Unlimited Friday night and got a DUI. I have been with Nationwide for a number of years, and had a pretty exemplerary driving record. I was paying about 100 dollars a month full coverage as a 26 year old male on my Jeep. Does anyone have an educated guess at what my insurance rates will do now? I'm trying to decide, when I get my license back and buy a new car, if I should be looking at a sports car with full coverage, or if insurance prices alone are going to make me want to get something cheap with liability coverage. By the way, I live in West Virginia.""
Cost of insurance for a 16 year old?
I am turning 16 in may and i can't wait to get my license but i am also starting to think about insurance. It is going to be sooooo much. I have a '85 corvette but my dad told me they have to insure me with the most expensive car they own. This would be a 2002 F250. I was wondering which one would be cheaper and about how much? I was thinking around 200-300$ a month but i have no idea? and how much difference would it be between the car and the truck? please help?
How much does auto insurance cost for small dump truck in ga?
I am writing a business plan to start a residential preservation company for foreclosed and private properties and I need to know about how much it will cost me per year to have insurance on a small dump truck.
Car insurance is too high!!!?
Been up since 8AM ringing several insurance companies. I have been declined 13 quotes, and offered 9 quotes noted below: Direct Line - 8,000.00 Admiral - 6,400.66 Insure motor - 9,294.00 Elephant - 6,400.66 Aviva - 13,084.00 MasterQuote - 11,001.60 On some of the forms I have used my nan's address as I live in a high-risk area, so I will actually park the car at my nan's house, not fraudalent I will actually do that. Are there any more hints/tips on what to do to bring down the insurance? I recently bought a Peugeot 106 1.1 LOOK+ 3dr hatchback. I'm 20 years old and passed my test on 30/10/2012.""
How bad would a 2006 nissan altima be on insurance for an 18 year old?
I'm on my moms policy right now as the primary driver of a 20 year old sports car and it costs 900 a month. I used to be the primary driver of a small 2002 kia rio sedan and it cost about 700 a month. How much will it be if i am now the primary driver of a 2006 nissan altima? Also how much would the insurance for the actual car be? My mom drives an 06 taurus and she pays 800 so i'm guessing around that price?
""Car insurance, applies to other car?""
Alright so, I plan on driving to a camping trip up in WI and I live in IL. The thing is, I don't know if I'm insured on the car I want to use. I usually drive an SUV (which my parents said they put my name under to use) so I'm insured on that one. But I want to take the other car because of gas mileage. I don't know how the insurance works. Am I covered on the other car too? P.S. My parents have State Farm as our insurance.""
Can the insurance company do this?
I am sheepishly wishing I had not spoken to the insurance company this morning, but what's done is done. If the (auto) insurance company has your VIN & license plate #, can they do a check to see who's name is on the title to a vehilce?""
California unemployment insurance?
what is the fraction of wages that is given for employment insurance? 40%? more? less?
How much will my insurance cost? Just turned 16?
I want to get a 1994 Mitsubishi 3000gt, but my dad said the insurance would be way to high. Can anyone estimate the price per month insurance would be for a 16 yearold that just got their first car and lisence? Thanks, Dustin""
California unemployment insurance?
Can I still receive unemployment benefits if I return to school? I know you have to be available to work full time. What if I don't tell them I'm going back to school? I know they have job training but I'd like to go to a fully accredited school. Please help. Thank you
Where can I find cheap car insurance for a 17 year old?
I have a provisional driving licence and am looking for car insurance!! any reccommendations? (please quote prices) What is the 'normal'/average price range?
How much will a dwi increase your full coverage insurance?
that is, of course, if the insurance isn't dropped all together. it's already high because i ran into a parked car last year (and no, was not drinking). so how much will it go up (% wise) for full coverage and then what percentage for just liability?""
What happens when you pay your car insurance late?
i have to wait til my next paycheck to pay my car insurance but the due date for the bill is march 16 and i dont get paid til the 21st. what happens? i have commerce insurance if that helps.
Affordable health insurance?
i am 34 , i pay over 400.00 a month , im single , does anyone know of some possible cheaper insurance . does anyone know of better insurance that i can afford . please help , male nonsmoker also""
Insurance Rates?
What's the best I can expect to pay for insurance monthly if I have a reckless driving ticket (-2 points) for speeding in California and am 20 years old? I have no accidents or other tickets. Any other 20 year olds out there in a similar situation what is your insurance premium?
Should I keep my insurance for future benefit after selling my car?
I bought a car on July 09 and sold it on Sep 09. My insurance agent told me to keep paying the insurance so that I can pay less in the future when I buy the other car. However, I don't think I should since I am not driving now. Should I pay for a car I no longer drive to get a lower rate later or should I cancel it?""
How much money should the insurance company be giving me?
I was in a car accident. An suv hit me (perpendicular to my drivers side), which made me hit a mazda and it spun out of control. The suv that started the accident RAN OFF! They did not realize their license plate fell off and they actually filed a claim saying they were hit in a parking lot! Anyways, it totalled my car so my insurance co is giving me $6200 for my car, but deducting $500 for my deductibl because at first we could not find who was driving the vehicle. Now the drivers insurance company has contacted me wanting to meet to discuss how much money they are going to give me. He said they will be giving me money for my deductible, medical bills, missing work, missing school, inconvience, stresss and pain and suffering. We are meeting today to negotiate the amount. I am not sure what is a reasonable amount, my friends told me $5400 - 8,000. I'd like about $6000-$7000. Do you think this is right?""
Change something in my Progressive insurance?
so when i got my insurance with Progressive, i was keeping my motorcycle outside, but now i keep it in a garage. Is there any way i can change the part of my policy where it asks where i keep my motorcycle? I was hoping me keeping it inside would get me a lower rate. Thanks!""
No proof of insurance ticket in Southern California?
I got pulled over for speeding. Got a speeding ticket plus a ticket for no proof of insurance 16028 (a). I do have insurance for the car but I forgot to put it in my car the day I got pulled over. If i show prove of insurance during the fine date, how much does it cost in calfiorina law. It is a correctable offense. I heard that I can get that offense dissmiss just by showing my prove of insurance. Is that correct?""
How much is the average car insurance in southwest VA?
Im 20 years old. Im moving somewhere in the southwest va area within the next month and was wondering how much the average car insurance will be
Atlanta Georgia Cheap car insurance quotes zip 30344
Atlanta Georgia Cheap car insurance quotes zip 30344
Advice on Insurance policys?
What policy's is best for someone in full time work - single - no kids -No debt.- rented Accommodation - in 30s How would you list these policy's of being important. There maybe a policy missed out if so please send me some advice.. Private Health Insurance Income Protection Life Insurance Accident, sickness and unemployment Private Pension Critical Illness Insurance""
Do Cops get free car insurance?
As part of one of their benefits? Just curious..
Im a new motorcycle rider and I was wondering which insurance is the best but cheap?
Im 24 yrs old, I was thinking of Progressive insurance? Is there anything that I can do to make my insurance lower?""
How do I get money from my insurance company when car is titled in divorcing husband's name.?
I totaled a car that is registered and insured in my name. The title is in the divorcing husband's name. He won't sign the title to get insurance check. Even if he did the check would go into his name. What can I do to get the money? Or what should I do? Lawyers are not much help right now.
How much does THIRD PARTY CAR INSURANCE cost in New Zealeand?
How much does THIRD PARTY CAR INSURANCE cost in New Zealeand?
Applying Health Insurance with High Blood Pressure?
I have a question. If I have high blood pressure, will insurance company reject my application instantly? I am 24, male. I am just worry about this HBP, so I am trying to figure out how to apply for a health insurance. Also, my income is kind of low, is there any benefit I can count on in California(Alameda)? Thank you for answering my question""
Does the color actually make your insurance higher??
I have heard this is true...red cars make your insurance higher...I don't think it is true but my husband does. What do you all think? I have looked up quotes and none of them ask for the color of the vehicle just make/model/year...
What other types of insurance should I get?
So far I'm going to get family health insurance, life insurance, and Car insurance. I'm going to have kids. Anything else I should have? We rarely have natural disasters where I'm from.""
Health Insurance?
Will my health insurance cover going to a psychiatrist regarding anxiety issues?
AA insurance terrible?
AA insurance sent me a renewal letter for car insurance. The bill was just over 900 pounds. Bearing in mind for years i just paid and didnt shop around . This time i had more time on my hands and i shopped around, the only thing i changed was no claims protection. Apart from this it was identicle. I went on compare the market.com and found esure who quoted me 425 pounds has anybody else found the AA to be expensive. The AA said they had shopped around for me and they had given me the cheapest quote. But i got my quote in around 8mins and 500pounds cheaper.""
My car insurance premiums why are they so expensive?
low mileage driver 28 years old 5 years no claims 5 years held full license Car 1.2 Clio worth under 2K completed PASS plus after driving test I would think all the above would suggest low premium. But because my postcode is just inside Greater London, all my premium quotes seem to fall in 55-60 when in a previous town I was paying less than 40, This surely can't be fair or right can it? Can anybody suggest a good but cheap insurance company?""
Does late payment on car insurance affect credit?
just wondering if a late payment of a bill....say my telephone bill, or car insurance affect my credit?""
How much for dentures upper and lower and mini implants to secure both of them with no insurance in ohio .....
no insurance
Is financial indemnity a good insurance carrier?
Is financial indemnity a good insurance carrier?
What would be the insurance of a teen driving a 2004 Toyota Camry?
My 16 year old daughter just got her lisence and i want to put her on insurance right away. I just need the range of about how much this would cost me.
What is the best and most affordable home owner's insurance in Texas?
What is the best and most affordable home owner's insurance in Texas?
How much would I pay for car insurance.?
I am 17 and a half year old; about to turn 18 in less than a month. Ive achieved my high school diploma. My parents are adding me to their car insurance and theyve been driving for more than 30 years. Non of them have received any tickets or have cause in accident. Clean record . we live in London Ontario and we drive 2 cars. a 2003 Dodge Grand caravan and a 2003 Chevrolet Malibu please help me
""Chrysler 300c, tax and insurance?
how much would it cost to insure and tax the 300c for a year and do they drink on petrol cheers
How much is a 2010 Jeep Sahara cost a month for insurance?
How much is a 2010 Jeep Sahara cost a month for insurance?
""Having a driver's license, but no car? Insurance question.?""
I'm 18 years old and currently have my driver's license and pay car insurance on it under my parents insurance plan. I want to know if it's possible to sell my car and stop paying for the car insurance. Is it possible to have a drivers license, but not be paying for insurance? I wont be driving any cars, I'm going to get a motorcycle. I live in Florida.""
Can Insurance company go bankrupt form a disaster?
the bush fire in Victoria. the insurance gotta pay around 100million dollars. um, what if they don't have that much....""
Cheap Hazard Insurance?
Does anyone know where to buy cheap hazard insurance online? I heard of this company that gives free quotes. CheapHazardInsurance.com I have property in Florida and and the hazard insurance is killing me thats why i need to get cheap hazard insurance. Thanks in advance...
The cheapest auto insurance in Fl?
Port orange fl
Does full coverage auto insurance usually cover a large tree branch denting your car?
My husband just called from work to tell me our car has a huge dent in the passenger side. Sure enough, there is a large branch of tree in our drive way. Before I call the insurance I wondering if you know this answer to this so I can know what to expect. I am with State Farm and have full coverage.""
Can I change my health insurance?
I want to change my health insurance? I have Minnesotacare and I want to change it to Medical Assistance? My daughter needs braces for her teeth and Minnesotacare won't cover for it! And apparently we owe Delta Dental and our dental provider 5000 bucks?! Is that possible? We are certainly not paying 5000 for an X-rays for braces and my daughter didn't even get braces on?!
Atlanta Georgia Cheap car insurance quotes zip 30344
Atlanta Georgia Cheap car insurance quotes zip 30344
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/go-compare-car-insurance-quotes-online-violet-novak/"
0 notes