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razieltwelve · 4 years

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Childcare (Final Rose)

Lumina bit back a smile as Claire poked and prodded her face. The baby girl giggled and then looked back at her mother before returning to poking and prodding Lumina. “She seems to find the fact we look the same hilarious.”

“Or she could just like poking people in the face.” Vanille ambled back into the living room with Snow. “You should protect your eyes, Lumina. You never know when she might attack.”

Serah snorted inelegantly. “Unlike some babies, my baby doesn’t seem to delight in inflicting agony on others.”

“In fairness,” Snow pointed out. “I’m pretty sure that Averia only tried to jab Vanille in the eye because Vanille kept tweaking her nose.”

“Hey, I think we can all agree that Averia is evil. Tweaking a baby’s nose is supposed to be funny. It isn’t supposed to lead to attempted murder.” Vanille leaned forward and tweaked Claire’s nose. The infant made a happy sound and tried to grab Vanille’s finger. “See? Look at that entirely normal and non-murderous reaction.”

“You know, I thought Claire might be a little more confused by how similar Lumina and I look.” Serah reached out and took Claire back from her twin sister. “I’ve seen videos of it, and most of the time the children look absolutely puzzled by the similarity.”

Vanille shrugged. “She might just be smarter than the average baby, or it could be due to your Aura signatures. Most civilians don’t radiate enough Aura for a baby to notice. However, you and Lumina are both powerful huntresses. Unless you’re actively trying to conceal your presence, you leak enough Aura into your surroundings that a baby might instinctively notice it. It would also explain why the baby’s of huntsmen and huntresses often react to their arrival before they actually enter a room. They’re so used to their Auras that they can actually sense them before they see them.”

“Really?” Serah cooed as Claire tugged on some of her hair. “That’s amazing.”

“Babies do a lot of things instinctively that we kind of have to relearn when we get older. Plus, the children of huntsmen and huntresses tend to be kind of weird since long-term, early exposure to Aura can have some crazy effects.” Vanille nodded sagely and patted Snow on the back. “Rejoice, my friend. Your baby might be a mutant.”

Serah slapped Vanille over the back of the head, earning a giggle from Claire. “Claire is not a mutant.”

“You shouldn’t hit me in front of her,” Vanille said. “Otherwise, who knows what violent tendencies she might pick up?”

“I can live with her learning to whack people who call her a mutant.”

Snow gestured, and a glowing blue hand formed in the air in front of Claire. The baby’s eyes immediately snapped to the Aura construct, and she watched it intently as it swayed back and forth before patting her on the head and then vanishing. “On the upside, being hunters does make things easier in some ways. I can always just use a smaller form of my giant to change her nappies.”

Serah scoffed. “That’s cheating. You should have to suffer like me.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I’m awesome, and I’m sure Lumina does that too when we ask her to help out.”

The pink-haired woman nodded. “Yep. Aura constructs are the way to go.”

“I would use my nappy-changing gun, but you banned me from using it,” Vanille added.

Serah scowled. “You are not pointing a gun at my child.”

“It’s a nappy-changing gun, not a death ray.” Vanille brandished the gun in question. “It even comes with multiple settings and the ability to dispose of any soiled nappies.”

“Dispose of them how?”

“...” Vanille put the nappy-changing gun back into her pocket. “It’s probably better if you don’t know.”

“It uses a disintegrator beam or something to get rid of soiled nappies, doesn’t it?”

“It’s more of a molecular decomposition array...”

“No. Absolutely not. If you ever change my child’s nappies, you are going to do it the normal way.”

“Has Lightning optimised nappy changing yet?” Snow asked.

“With Saviour?” Serah shook her head. “It was one of the first things she did. She is now the proud wielder of the most efficient nappy-changing technique in history.”

“I’m actually a bit surprised that she doesn’t just shunt soiled nappies into a miniature black hole or something.” Vanille cackled. “It’s what I would do.”

“Actually, she’s worked out how to use Saviour to basically purifying nappies on a subatomic level,” Lumina said. “She originally developed that technique for when she couldn’t be bothered doing laundry, but it works just as well on nappies.”

“That is so cheating,” Serah growled.

“I’m sure you’ll find some way to abuse your control over time to make nappy-changing easier,” Vanille said. “Whereas I’m not sure what my Semblance can do... except maybe make it so that I’m never the one in charge when a nappy has to be changed.”

“What about Fang?” Snow asked. “There must be some awesome way to make it easier using Ragnarok.”

“She doesn’t use her Semblance or anything,” Vanille replied. “She just... changes nappies like a normal person.”

Lumina raised one eyebrow. “Really?”

“She says it doesn’t bother her very much at all since Ragnarok basically involves wading through the broken, mangled bodies of her enemies shortly before she eats any of them with interesting powers.”

“Huh... when you put it like that...” Snow grinned. “I’m actually surprised you haven’t built a nappy-changing robot, Vanille.”

Vanille looked at Lumina. “Since the... incident with the rebellious food processor, I have been banned from attempting to make a nappy-changing robot. Someone seems to think it will develop self-awareness and attempt to turn the child against us all eventually leading to the downfall of civilisation.”

Serah looked at Lumina. “This sort of thing is why you’re my favourite younger sister.”

“I’m your only younger sister.”

“Well, you know what I mean.”

“Thanks... I guess.”

“Anyway,” Snow said. “We should probably get going. We’re supposed to meet Lightning, Fang, and Averia at the zoo soon. Who wants to take a bet on how many animals Averia glares at?”

“Is all of them an option?” Vanille asked. “Because that would be my bet.”

X X X

Vanille nudged Snow. “What did I tell you?”

In Lightning’s arms, Averia continued to glare at the lion on the opposite side of the glass. The mighty feline roared in defiance, but the baby only intensified her glare until the animal eventually slunk off.

“Definitely gets that from Lightning,” Snow replied.

X. X X

Author’s Notes

Huntsmen and huntresses are notorious for using their Semblances to make taking care of their children easier. In the case of someone like Lumina or Snow, this can mean just about anything since their Semblances are perfect for doing household chores and childcare-related activities. You can also bet that when Elsa and Averia have kids, there will be little snow creatures keeping an eye on them at all times.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here.

#final rose #fanfiction #serah farron #lumina #snow villiers #oerba dia vanille #claire villiers

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astro-b-o-y-d · 7 years

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Intoxication (Chapter 1)

Everyone else at the camp goes on a hike, leaving Gwen and Daniel alone. Perhaps she can teach the cultist asshole how to have some real, non-murdery fun. [Read on Ao3]

"Good morning, Daniel!"

"Go die."

David let out a familiar laugh as Daniel pulled the blanket further over his head in the hopes it would keep the other at bay. But much like every other morning, he was no so lucky and soon found himself staring up at David with a venomous expression while David held his blanket in one hand. "Come on now, sleepyhead, the kids are waiting for us!"

"They wouldn't be if you'd just let them sleep in," Daniel pointed out, as he sat up. "Or just...let them sleep forever. Underground. In tiny, little coffins. I could make it happen, it'd be quick and mostly painless-"

"For once, I'm going to ignore that," David said, and set the blanket down on the end of the bed. "Because I am just that excited for today's activity!"

Daniel groaned as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Oh, so you weren't excited about the camp activities up until this point? I'm so glad I was here to witness such a rare and unusual reaction from you."

"Very funny," David said, his hands now on his hips. "But I will admit that while I do love most camp activities the same amount, there are a few that I happen to favor a tiny bit more than the others. And the one I have planned for today is one of my top three favorites! Right behind music and just before arts and crafts!"

Daniel made a face. "I know I'm going to regret asking, but what is today's activity?"

David's smile widened as he pulled something out of his pocket and began to carefully unfurl it across the top of the desk near his bed. "We're going on a hike!"

"...Wonderful."

"We'll head out after lunch," David said, letting his finger gently trace over the line he had marked out in pen. "I already have the perfect trail mapped out for us! One that covers as many of the best viewing spots as possible, but also allows us to remain mostly shaded by the forest throughout the day. We don't want another sunburn incident, do we?"

Daniel fell back down against the bed again and squeezed his eyes shut. "Well, great, I hope you and the brats enjoy yourselves. And I hope none of them fall off a cliff. Actually, who am I kidding? That'd be a dream come true for me."

"Don't be such a downer," David said. "You're coming, too!"

Without opening his eyes, Daniel raised his right leg up a few inches from the mattress and gestured to the ankle bracelet near his foot. "Oh, so you've received permission from the judge to let me leave the campgrounds for a short while? Because that will only go so well if you haven't."

He waited for David to make some kind of enthusiastic comment about how he did, in fact, receive permission from the judge to temporarily lift the house arrest, or how they modified it so that he only needed to remain a certain number of feet from David at all times until they returned to the campgrounds. But when David remained silent, Daniel opened an eye out of curiosity and noticed that David's excited expression had been replaced with a look of guilt. "...You completely forgot about my house arrest, didn't you?"

David shifted uncomfortably. "I was so busy planning the hike-"

"-that you completely forgot the only reason I'm not snapping everyone's neck within a five-mile radius?" Daniel interrupted, and sat up again. "Tsk tsk, David. What a sloppy, unprofessional mistake to make."

David stared at him with a scolding frown. "I wouldn't point out my mistakes if I were you, Daniel. Unless we'd also like to discuss yours as well?"

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "I'd love to, actually!" he said, counting on his fingers. "Mistake number one: Not smacking you upside the head with my fiddle when I had the chance. Mistake number two: not smacking you upside the head with your own stupid guitar when I had the chance. Mistake number three: not smacking you upside the head with-"

"Uh, should I intervene?"

Both men looked towards the door to their side of the cabin, where Gwen now stood with a confused expression on her face. "No, Gwen, everything's fine!" David assured her, as he refolded the map. "Daniel and I were just discussing today's hike-"

"-that he forgot I couldn't go on," Daniel added, arms crossed. "Because I'm not allowed to leave the campgrounds."

"It was an honest mistake to make!" David said defensively. "I'm just...not quite used to him being back at camp or the fact that he can't leave the campgrounds yet."

"Because you're an idiot," Daniel said.

"Once again, I really don't think you of all people can pull the 'idiot' card on him, Kool-Aid Man," Gwen said.

"Must you keep bringing that up?" Daniel asked, narrowing his eyes.

"I'll stop when you do," Gwen said.

"I just can't believe I forgot something so important!" David said sadly. "I mean, we can't just leave Daniel at the camp by himself while the rest of us go on the hike!"

"I'm not a child, David," Daniel said. "What on Earth do you think I'm going to do while the rest of you are gone?"

"Sneak into the Mess Hall and put nails in tomorrow's applesauce?" David suggested. "Poke holes in the life vests to drown anyone who tries to use them?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Juvenile. Bits of glass would be a lot harder to spot in applesauce and therefore easier to swallow by accident, and the life vests already have plenty of holes in them. Seriously, this entire camp is one big health hazard. I'm surprised these kids weren't dead before I got here."

Gwen stared at him silently for a moment, before she turned her attention to David. "You know, I think I have an idea. You take the kids on the hike, and I'll stay here with Daniel."

"Aw, Gwen, I couldn't ask you to do that," David said. "You'll miss out on the hike!"

"And I don't need a babysitter," Daniel added, his arms crossed. "Because I'm not going to do anything while you're gone."

"You've spent the entire time you've been back at camp threatening to kill people," Gwen pointed out. "Also, when being accused of putting nails into applesauce, most people would respond with something like 'that's awful, killing and hurting people is wrong!', not 'glass shards would obviously be more effective.'"

"Well, they would," Daniel said defensively. "Again, nails would be too easy to spot in applesauce. There's just no point in using them."

"I rest my cause," Gwen said, with a look to David. "We can't leave him here by himself."

"I don't know, Gwen," David said uncertainly. "Will you be safe, staying with him all day without any help?"

"I'll be about as safe as you are when you're alone with him," Gwen pointed out. "I mean, you two share a room and he hasn't killed you yet, right?"

"But he wants to," David pointed out in return.

"Aww, so you are smarter than you look," Daniel said sarcastically. "Good for you, David!"

"He looks exactly like you, Jim Jones," Gwen said.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Oh, that's real original."

"So's the way you tried to kill our campers with Kool-Aid," Gwen shot back.

Daniel glared daggers at her, but remained silent as she turned her attention back to David. "See? He's a cinch to handle. He's more like a bratty camper than anything. Think of him as an older, whiter...more sacrifice-y version of Max."

David couldn't help but smile at her comment, and made an attempt to cover it with his mouth. "Well, I guess if you're sure about this, then I could always ask the Quartermaster to assist me on the hike today." His expression softened. "Still...stay safe today, alright? I'm not normally one for the violent approach, but if he so much as lays a finger on you, don't be afraid to...well, you know, rough him up a bit!"

"You have never threatened a person in your life, have you?" Daniel asked, once again rolling his eyes.

"I'll be fine, David," Gwen said assuringly, ignoring Daniel's comment as she placed a hand on David's shoulder. "If anything, I feel like you'll have a harder time with your babysitting duties today then I will with mine. I mean, the kids are probably going to hate you after you make them trek through the forest for hours on end."

"Or, they'll come to realize that hiking is both a fun activity and a wonderful way to keep in shape!" David said cheerfully.

Gwen shook her head with an amused smile. "Whatever you want to tell yourself, pal. Now hurry up and go get breakfast before it gets cold. Besides, you need to tell the campers about today's hike, right?"

"Oh, my gosh, you're right, Gwen!" David said. "I'd better get to the Mess Hall! Won't they be surprised to hear about how much fun we're going to have today?"

"Surprised, annoyed, annoying," Daniel said. "All good words to describe them, really."

David shot him an annoyed look before he hurried out of the cabin, and Gwen followed suit after shooting Daniel a look of her own. Shaking his head, Daniel pulled the blanket up from its spot by his feet to over his head and let himself fall against the mattress again.

While he hadn't gotten a chance to properly interact with Gwen alone neither before nor after his sentence, she had made it more than clear that her opinion of him was on par with everyone else's at the camp. Even ignoring her constant barrage of nicknames he couldn't understand, she had adamently refused to share a side of the cabin with him upon his return (with a sincere apology that was clearly only directed at David as she tranferred her belongings to the side that had gone unused up until that point) and she had made no attempts to hide her amusement whenever one of the campers decided to use him as their punching bag (sometimes literally in Nurf's case). And while it was so easy for Daniel to get under David's skin, Gwen seemed to have a talent in getting under his skin in return.

So as far as Daniel could tell, she hated his guts about as much as everyone else at the camp and, unlike David, had no qualms about making it common knowledge as opposed to hiding it or expressing it in a passive-aggressive fashion. And he would be stuck with her for Lord-knows-how-long while David and the demon pack were on their hike.

With a groan, he buried his face into the pillow as he attempted to fall back asleep for just a little longer before the other counselors returned. He was going to need all the energy he could get today.

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

"Alright, is everybody ready to go?" David asked the group cheerfully.

"Hell no." With a scowl, Max pointed at Daniel. "Why the fuck do we have to go on this stupid hike while dickhead over there gets to stay at camp and not suffer like the rest of us?"

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "I mean, if you'd like to suffer, Max, I'm sure I could arrange that. No, I know I could arrange that-"

"That's enough, Daniel," David said, before turning back to the kids. "He and Gwen are going to stay here, while the Quartermaster accompanies us on our hike."

A bitter grumble was the Quartermaster's response. "Damn two-bit cultist...getting himself sent here. Can't even make a decent batch of poison... Ruining my plans to go get new hooks today..."

"...Uh, did you say hooks, as in plural?" Neil asked nervously. "Why do you need more than one?"

"One for business, one for none of your business!" the Quartermaster said fiercely.

"...Noted."

"Aww, Daniel can't come on the hike with us?" Space Kid asked with a sad expression.

Daniel smiled and knelt down in front of Space Kid so they were at eye level. "I'm afraid I have to stay here. But you go have fun without me, okay?" He lowered his voice after a quick glance over at Max. "And if you see Max too close to the edge of a cliff, don't be afraid to give him a little...push."

"But isn't that mean?" Space Kid asked. "Won't he get hurt if I do that?"

"...I'm sure he'll be fine," Daniel lied through his teeth. "Plus, isn't he mean to you all the time? It would only be fair to be a little mean back, right?"

"Daniel!" David said sharply. "You keep telling Space Kid to do bad things and you won't be allowed to spend time with him anymore!"

"What?" Daniel asked innocently. "I was just telling him...not to push Max off a cliff."

Space Kid looked up at him, confused. "But you said-"

"I know what I said," Daniel said, his voice low again. "Go ahead and push him if you get a chance-OW, OW, THAT'S MY EAR!"

Daniel hissed in pain as Gwen dragged him away from Space Kid with a tight grip on his ear. "Have fun on the hike, everyone!" she said. "And good luck, David."

"Same to you, Gwen," David said cheerfully. "We should be back around dinner time, but I'll have my phone on me and I can be back here like *that*-" He snapped for emphasis. "-if you need me to be."

"Like I said this morning, I'll be fine," she assured David, and tightened her grip on Daniel's ear, an action that earned her another unhappy sound from him. "See? He's easy to handle."

"Gwen, that's mean," David said.

"You're smiling."

"...I'm just excited for the hike," David fibbed.

"I'm not," Max said. "Can we hurry up and get this over with already?"

"Right, of course," David said, and gestured for the kids to follow him as he began to walk towards the direction of the trail. "Come on, campers. The day waits for no man, or camper!"

"Pretty sure that's not a saying," Max said irritably, as he shuffled after David.

"It is now~!" David said matter-of-factly. "Because I'm saying it!"

Max rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay..."

"Bye, Daniel!" Space Kid said with a wave. "I'll bring you back a souviener if I can find one!"

Daniel's ear was momentarily forgotten as he waved back at Space Kid. "Have fun, Space Kid! Remember what I told you 'not' to do-OW, you're still holding my ear, Gwen!"

"I know," Gwen said, and finally let go of him as the group disappeared among the trees.

Daniel glared at her while he rubbed his sore earlobe. "Why did you do that?"

"Hey, I could have just called the judge instead," Gwen pointed out. "But honestly, you not only said your plans out loud but also probably confused Space Kid in the process, so I doubt David's going to let Max leave his side during the hike. Way to go, Isaac."

Daniel gave her a perplexed look. "Isaac? Did you...forget my name?"

"Holy shit, you need to read some Stephen King," Gwen said, shaking her head. "But not right now. I have other plans for the two of us anyway."

"Us?" Daniel asked. "I'm not doing anything with you. I'm going back to the cabin and I'm going to enjoy the lack of other people for as long as I can."

Gwen crossed her arms with a smirk. "Oh? Doing what exactly?"

"Sleeping, preferably," Daniel said. "Having a morning person for a roommate usually leads to me rising earlier than I'd prefer."

Gwen shook her head amusedly. "Alright, I can't pretend I haven't been there. But in my experience, trying to take a nap in an air-conditoning-less cabin in the middle of summer isn't the easiest task in the world. You're just going to be miserable, tired, and bored."

Daniel scowled. "Well, what did you have in mind, then?"

The question had barely escaped his mouth before Gwen took hold of his wrist and pulled him along towards her side of the cabin in an almost-eager sort of manner. Her grip was a lot less painful than it had been on his ear, but Daniel still yanked his hand back as if she had hurt him once they came to a stop outside her door. "Is this how you treat all your co-workers?"

"Only the cultists," she said as she pushed the door open. "Follow me."

Rolling his eyes, Daniel obeyed and stepped into the cabin behind her. Unlike his and David's side (which was mostly decorated with either the tacky camp memerobilia or the occasional poster from a movie Daniel had not seen), Gwen's side of the cabin contained a shelf of magazines and books, with titles that Daniel could only assume were disturbingly sexual in nature, several drawers with labels to define which article of clothing lay inside, and an old radio that resided on the windowsill. In the far corner lay a TV, the two arm chairs that Gwen had brought to her side when they divided up the furniture in the cabin, and a minifridge that seemed awfully new and pricy compared to the rest of the furniture.

"I really hope we didn't drink all of them last time..." Gwen muttered to herself as she headed for the minifridge and began to rummage around inside it. "Here we go. Heads up!"

Before Daniel could process her warning, she tossed a bottle of something in his direction. He managed to catch the glass bottle without letting it shatter on the wooden floor, and peered down at the label curiously. "Smirnoff?"

"It's vodka," Gwen explained, and slammed the fridge shut. "Well, about five-percent vodka. But it still manages to get David tipsy after a few bottles, so I can only imagine what it'd do to you, Veggietales."

Once again, Daniel frowned at her. "Okay, I realize that you probably hate me for obvious reasons, but if you only brought me over here to call me more names I don't understand, then I'm not-"

"Calm down, dude," Gwen said, her expression serious. "Look, I'm going to be honest, I didn't invite you to my side of the cabin to give you a hard time. I did it so we could hang out."

Daniel's scowl disappeared. "Wait...what?"

"I mean, I'm not saying I want to be best friends or anything like that," Gwen said. "Honestly, you're kind of an asshole, and I'm not entirely fond of how you've treated David and the kids."

"I think they treat me worse than I treat them," Daniel said.

"Hey, you did try and kill them," Gwen pointed out. "I know I wasn't here for whatever happened during your first visit, but from what I heard, they have every right to be pissed at you."

"A fair, yet annoying, point." Daniel narrowed his eyes at her. "Is there a 'but' anywhere in your sentence?"

"But..." Gwen continued, "knowing David, it'll be ages before he and the others get back from their hike. Last time, we got lost and it took us half a day to find the path back to camp. And since we're the only two still stuck at camp, I figured we could kick back, have a few drinks, watch a bad movie or two..."

Daniel's suspicious glare melted into a look of confusion. "You...really want me to hang out with you? This isn't a joke?"

Gwen shrugged. "I mean, you're the reason I get to stay here instead of trekking through the woods all day, so I owe you for that at least."

Daniel his gaze fall to the bottle in his hands again. "Well, the offer is tempting, but...I don't really drink or...watch movies."

"Really?" Gwen asked, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, the movie thing I can understand, you know nothing about pop culture. But don't cults usually, like, throw wild parties just so they can drink or have wild orgies or whatever?"

"That's stereotyping," Daniel said, making a face. "Extremely offensive stereotyping. Besides, my religion-"

"Cult," Gwen corrected him.

"My religion-" Daniel said stubbornly, "-was more on the...conservative side of things. The consumption of alcohol or the use of electronics like computers or television was usually frowned upon if they were being used outside of religious purposes. Even procreation before marriage was considered a sin. Impure, toxic behaviors that would cause us to stray from the path towards ascension and down the path towards Xemug."

"And yet, child killing wasn't on that list of impure, toxic things that would lead you towards your cult's bootleg version of Xenu?" Gwen asked.

Daniel glared at her and turned back to face the door. "You know, I don't have to take all this teasing from you. I could just return to the other side of the cabin and attempt to sleep. It'd be a lot better than listening to you call me names and insult my previous religion-"

"Wait, hold on."

Daniel fell silent, his annoyance towards Gwen forgotten for a moment as he felt her grab his wrist with a surprising gentleness. He looked back at her, his surprise blooming further at the serious look on her face.

"Look..." she said, pulling her hand back. "You're a prick and I'm not sorry for insulting you."

Daniel frowned again. "Oh, well, thank you so much."

"Let me finish," she said. "You're a prick and I'm not sorry. However...clearly the religion thing is a sore subject for you. Especially since you keep calling it your previous religion or previous beliefs. And in my experience, when someone often cuts ties with a previous religion, they struggle with adapting to life without those beliefs, and even cling to some of their old ways as a means to cope."

Daniel felt his shoulders tense at her words. "Oh, so you're a therapist now?"

"Psycologist, actually," Gwen corrected him. "Duel-majored."

"Well, aren't you special?" Daniel asked sarcastically. "Do you have a point?"

"My point is," Gwen continued. "If the reason you're afraid to drink or watch movies is because of your religion, well...you said yourself that you weren't a part of it anymore. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do, but drinking alcohol or watching a movie isn't going to make you, like...go to Hell or...Xemug or...whatever when you die."

"Just Xemug, but I appreciate the attempt to be religiously appropriate after that orgy comment," Daniel said.

"And I mean, even if it did, you kinda already screwed up with the child-killing thing, so you're probably already going somewhere shitty when you die anyway," Gwen said. "You might as well go all the way with breaking from the path and have as much fun as you can."

"...You really aren't great at giving pep-talks, are you?" Daniel asked.

"I mean, am I wrong?"

Daniel's grip tightened on the bottle in his hand as he looked down at it again. As much as he hated to admit it, Gwen did have somewhat of a point in all her annoying and mostly-unhelpful ramblings. While he'd long since accepted the fact that everything he had once believed in was based on lies and false hopes, he had still made somewhat of an attempt to keep to as many of his previous ideals as he could.

No alcohol or drugs to poison his system. No television or internet to corrupt him. And while he had not been able completely to stick to his previous detoxification diet during his house arrest, he had still turned down a number of offers for, in the camp's case, literal junk food and chose only to consume the limited number of actually-healthy options that the camp had to legally provide for the campers.

Perhaps it was as Gwen suggested, an attempt to cope. Perhaps he simply had a hard time accepting the fact (ugh, facts again) that everything he had believed in was false. Perhaps he was clinging to some small hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd been wrong about the things he'd seen during his moment of death. That it had been some sort of test of faith as a result of his mistakes and the Ancient Ones were still watching him, waiting to see if he dared to stray further.

Either way, he had done his best to keep true to the way he had lived his life before the events of Camp Campbell. And while it was impossible to stick to all of his previous ideals, he had still managed to stick to the basics as best he could. To hold onto that slim hope that...maybe, he could still reach ascension one day.

But...

They weren't real.

He'd never be pure in their eyes, even if he wanted to be. Because they weren't real.

And even if they were, even if all of this was really some kind of test to measure the strength of his faith, it was too late. He had fallen from grace the moment the poisoned Kool-Aid passed his lips and not the lips of the campers. He had doubted the existence of his Gods, doubted his beliefs...

Gwen was right; If he had already lost his chance at ascension, then...where was the harm in falling further?

"When you say fun...what exactly did you have in mind?"

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"The broken seatbeat's foreshadowing," Gwen said, pointing at the screen. "That's a drink!"

"Don't spoil it for me!"

"It's not a spoiler if you know death's coming for him! Now take a drink!"

Falling from grace had tasted like a mix of strawberries and the scent of a permanent marker, with a burning aftertaste that reminded him strongly of the sensation he had felt after ingesting the poisoned Kool-Aid. However, the reminder only lingered for a moment and was replaced with a warm, tingling feeling after a few more sips of the drink.

They had been about halfway through their first bottles when Gwen had approached the TV and began to dig around inside a cardboard box that lay at its left, packed with DvD cases that looked pretty wear and tear from old age. After a few minutes of shuffling the contents around, she held up one of the covers with a triumphant look and a smug reassurance that he, of all people, would enjoy the HELL out of this movie.

And, despite his skepticism at first, he had to admit that, once again, Gwen seemed to know what she was talking about. Not that he'd ever admit to her that she was right about anything, but a movie where people did nothing but try and escape the hand of death, only to meet it in the most horrible and gruesome fashions possible was definitely keeping his attention in the best way. Or perhaps the two bottles of Smirnoff he had ingested since they had first started drinking was finally beginning to take effect on his system.

Either way, the sight of a girl being hit by a bus in the most ironic and over-the-top way possible, followed by the house of one of the remaining characters bursting into flames after her painful and bloody death via knives and glass to many vital areas had been the funniest thing he'd seen in a long time. Granted he would have preferred it to happen in real life to real people, but fictional deaths were a surprisingly decent substitute in a pinch.

"So, remind me again why we need to drink whenever there's either a death or foreshadowing to a death?" Daniel asked as he raised the bottle to his lips.

"I explained the rules already," Gwen said and took a drink of her own. "When you watch a movie with a ton of repeating elements, especially a bador stupid movie, you make a drinking game out of it and get shitfaced with other people."

"Yes, I'm aware," Daniel said. "But why?"

"...Because it's fun?" Gwen said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Now, shh, this is one of my favorite scenes in the movie."

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said the movie was stupid?"

"It is," Gwen said. "I've watched it fifteen times."

Daniel opened his mouth to question this, but the sounds of a train hitting metal tore his attention back to the movie. "Oh, come on, he survived that?! How did he survive that?! I thought you said he was gonna die!"

"Just wait for it," Gwen said, her mouth curling into a knowing smile and her eyes still on the screen.

Daniel followed suit, just moments before a piece of metal flew from the previous trainwreck and decapitated one of the remaining characters onscreen. Daniel let out an amused cackle and raised his bottle. "Okay, that was worth the extra wait time for another death."

"Too bad we've got more waiting to do now," Gwen said, and took a sip of her own drink. "There's not going to be one for a while."

"Oh, come on, really?!" Daniel asked. "I thought you said this movie was full of gore and death?"

"Well, it is, but unfortunately a lot of it is in the first half," Gwen said. "The sequels really amp up the gore factor and the deaths are even more gruesome."

"So why can't we watch those?" Daniel asked.

"Because Campbell probably stole the DvDs we already have and won't shell out any money to let us buy more," Gwen pointed out.

Daniel flicked his thumb towards the minifridge. "And yet you could afford that?"

"Oh, I got the money for that by selling the parts to your 'purification sauna' after you were whisked off to the hospital," Gwen said with a smirk. "There's a scrap yard on the outskirts of Sleepy Peak, and they pay pretty handsomely for good metal."

Daniel glared at her. "So that's what happened to it..."

"Hey, I wasn't about to leave that shit lying around here," Gwen said. "It made the kids uneasy, and I'm sure Campbell would have had the same idea if he returned and found it before I did anything."

"And you didn't offer David any of the money?" Daniel asked.

"Who says I didn't?" Gwen asked. "He used his half to buy new supplies for as many of the camps as he could. Unfortunately by the time he got to swimming camp, there wasn't enough to buy new lifejackets. Go figure."

"Of course he did," Daniel said, rolling his eyes. "Wait, so he bought supplies for the camp and you bought a mini fridge? Seems a bit selfish, don't you think?"

"I know, but I wanted something nice for myself, damn it!" Gwen said. "Lord knows I can't buy anything with the salary Campbell gives us. The guy's an even bigger asshole than you are!"

"Ooh, not so fond of the boss, are we?" Daniel asked, an eyebrow raised.

"You've worked here long enough to know the answer to that," Gwen said. "I mean, when you said this camp was a walking health hazard, you weren't lying. Campbell doesn't give a shit if we don't have enough running water or healthy food or safe camp equipment, and I'm positive he's only keeping this camp open because it's a good place to hide when the government's hot on his tail."

"You're certainly quick to loosen your tongue when it comes to gossiping about him," Daniel pointed out. "And yet, you've been silent about David and the campers. Surely they must push your buttons, too?"

"Nice try, pal," Gwen said with a smirk. "I'm fine with dragging Campbell through the mud, but I'm not about to talk shit about David or the kids in front of you. When I complain about them, I do it out of love. When you do it, it's because you want to hurt them."

"You're not wrong there," Daniel said, taking another sip of his drink.

"What about you?" Gwen asked. "Got any boss horror stories? Or...cult...leader...horror stories? Yeah, maybe you're right about me not knowing how your cult works."

Daniel shrugged. "Not much to tell there. I have no ill memories towards the leader that my group followed when I was younger."

"So how'd you originally get involved in all of that anyway?" Gwen asked. "Were you born in it or-"

Daniel shook his head. "I was about five when one of the members of the group picked me up off the streets and convinced me to join them with promises of a better life."

"Five?!" Gwen asked in disbelief. "Jesus Christ...And they didn't, like, try to sacrifice you or anything?"

"The group didn't sacrifice every child they came across," Daniel explained. "Sometimes when the number of followers were low, they'd look for those who had next to nothing left. Those who needed guidance, a better life... Those who could grow and learn the ways of the Ancient Ones, and go on to spread their word to others. And as a homeless kid, that sounded a lot more appealing than dying of starvation in some random alleyway."

"...Well, was it?" Gwen asked.

Daniel looked down at the bottle in his hands. "You know...I'm not so sure anymore. I dedicated my life to following the teachings of our group, and did everything I could to keep myself on the path towards ascension. And for what? Gods that turned out to be fake? To be back where I am before everything happened, with nothing to guide me in life? Perhaps it would have been better if they had left me to die."

He shook his head. "I think I might have had too much to drink. I'm normally not so talkative about these sort of things with anyone."

"You've had about two bottles of a drink with five-percent vodka," Gwen pointed out. "But it's like I said earlier, sometimes people have a hard time coping when they cut ties with a religion they once dedicated their entire life to, especially if it's because of something that was out of their control. You may be a massive prick in everything else you do, but you're not a prick for feeling lost and confused about that. It happens, dude."

Daniel bit his lip. "Well...thank you for that, at least. I mean, other than the insult."

"Hey, you still want to kill kids," Gwen pointed out. "My sympathy towards you can only go so far before I remember that."

"Speaking of that," Daniel said. "May I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"You don't like me," Daniel said. "You've made that clear ever since I returned to camp. So...why did you want to hang out with me while the others were off on the hike? I mean, not that I'm complaining, but you could have taken this chance to make my life miserable. I guess I'd just like to know why, for the most part, you didn't take advantage of that opportunity?"

Gwen sighed. "Alright, look, you're right about me not liking you. You're a royal pain in the ass, you complain about being stuck at this camp when it's your own fault you're stuck here, and again...kid-killing. That's pretty shitty."

"So I've been told," Daniel said.

"But," Gwen continued, "if I were to hold a constant grudge towards everyone who tried to kill kids at this camp, the only ones I wouldn't be mad at would be myself and David. Hell, even Max has had a few failed attempts here and there. This camp is...not a place for people with good morals. Aside from, like, David, but he's...David."

"I'd argue that even his morals are not as pure as he'd like to believe," Daniel said.

"In any case," Gwen said, "since the kids you keep threatening are outside the campgrounds and you can't really do anything to them, I figured I could cut you a break today. And as I mentioned earlier, you being stuck here means I don't have to waste my day hiking through the woods. So I owe it to you to be at least a little civil for now."

"Well, I do appreciate it," Daniel said. "And I...do appreciate you helping me feel more comfortable with things like...well, all of this. I'll...admit that it is somewhat helpful. In an annoying, insulting, kind of way."

Gwen let out a snicker and offered her glass to him. "And I'll admit, it is kind of nice having a co-worker who isn't just another David."

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said you weren't going to drag him around me? I mean, if you've changed your mind about that, then I'm all for it-"

"I'm not dragging him," Gwen clarified. "I love the guy. He's the sweetest person I've ever met, and he makes this shit camp a little less shitty just by existing."

Daniel let out a scoff as Gwen continued: "But sometimes, I don't need sweet, you know? I need someone who wants to complain with me. Someone who can just...watch a stupid movie and drink with me, and we can laugh at dumb things together. I mean, as long as the dumb things aren't people I care about."

Daniel chuckled, and raised his bottle. "Complaining? Now that I can do."

Gwen smiled and clinked hers against it. "Good, because some more bullshit is about to come up that you're really going to enjoy bitching about."

#Camp Camp #Daniel's Descension AU #FUCKING HELL THIS IS FINALLY DONE #And there's multiple chapters :D #Okay only two #That'll be posted on here shortly

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xcrisscrossx · 7 years

Text

Happy Anniversary

“Alright there, Rosie. Alright, now just sit tight, Sherlock’s getting your food now,” John hushed soothingly. Sherlock marveled at the way John could maintain his adult tone while still sounding so… fatherly.

“Okay Rosie, you’ve got two options; pureed veggie root or pulverized seed-pod extract.” John gave Sherlock an odd look. “Carrot or Pea baby food.” John rolled his eyes with a smile, taking the carrot jar—Rosie’s favorite, meaning the one she made less of a mess with—and uncapped it. “The books say she needs to start eating more solid foods,” Sherlock observed, tilting his head slightly as he regarded the menu in front of him.

“She had her little crackers and some banana slices for breakfast this morning. I only packed these because they’re more convenient and I figured they wouldn’t have anything suitable for her here, even on the kids menu.”

Sherlock shrugged. “I think she’d enjoy some dino shaped nuggets, wouldn’t you darling?” Sherlock cooed to the toddler.

“Ah boys, so good to see you two again,” Angelo greeted warmly, reaching out and wrapping one large arm around Sherlock’s shoulders. John smiled lightly at how shy Sherlock always got with physical contact from others, apparent from the tightlipped yet genuine smile. “And who’s this little beauty?” Angelo said, smiling at Rosie who sat in a wooden highchair that sat on the bench between Sherlock and John. The new one year old was too business happily laughing and babbling, looking all around her in interest rather than at her father who was fruitlessly trying to spoon feed her some of the baby food. Rosie spotted Angelo looking at her, reaching out with one hand proudly, a large gummy smile with two small bottom teeth poking out.

“Rosie Watson,” Sherlock introduced, sending a fond smile at the giggling baby. “Newest edition. Infants aren’t much fond of social gatherings and gift cards, although they surprisingly enjoy cake and balloons.” John smiled at the memory this morning of Mrs. Hudson bringing up a small vanilla cake with a single pink candle in the middle, and Rosie sticking her stubby hands inside, taking large fistfuls and shoving them into her mouth. “So we brought her out for dinner. Classic birthday celebration, especially this being the first.”

“Ah, very special evening indeed!” Angelo exclaimed, throwing out his hands. “All on the house then gentlemen, whatever you like, for the new Holmes family!”

John smiled but then paused, blinking before throwing out a hand, “Oh, no no, no, we’re still not a—”

“I’ll come around with a bottle, and a juice for the little one then?” Sherlock nodded and Angelo was gone as quickly as he’d come. John sighed, sending a look to Sherlock. Sherlock looked back, eyebrows rising innocently. “What?”

“Why do you never correct them?”

“Correct who? About what?”

“Oh!” an elderly woman exclaimed, having just entered the restaurant. She spotted Rosie, waving sweetly. Rosie squealed in delight. “So nice to see two fathers out with such an angel, good on the two of you.”

“Oh no, we aren’t—” John tried but the woman merely chuckled good-heartedly and shuffled off to find a place to sit. John’s eyes darted to Sherlock’s, making an exasperated gesture. “That!”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb, its doesn’t exactly work on you Mr. I’m-smarter-than-all-of-mankind. People always mistake us for…for well, you know.” Sherlock arched an eyebrow. John huffed in annoyance, looking down at the table. His eyes moved back up. “You’re the most observant man in England and you’re telling me you never catch on that people mistake us for a couple?”

“Do they really?” Sherlock asked as though that was the most surprising thing he’d ever heard, though apparently not caring enough to look away from the menu he was currently browsing.

“Yes, actually! All the time. And you never say anything, never correct them. Ever.”

“Why bother, when people are going to make their own assumptions anyway apparently, since you’re always fruitlessly attempting to set the record straight,” Sherlock explained lightly. “We know what our relationship is behind closed doors and it doesn’t involve us sharing a bed despite what others may think.”

John coughed into his fist, his eyes bouncing anywhere but Sherlock, a tell-tale sigh of distress and discomfort with the conversation. Sherlock arched an eyebrow just as Angelo appeared again with a bottle of red wine and a small plastic bottle of orange juice. “Thank you,” John said, taking the juice. He searched for a sippy cup in the baby bag he brought along, listening as Sherlock ordered them food. He didn’t comment on the fact that Sherlock knew John’s food choice.

John distracted himself with feeding Rosie whom, after some playful cooing and encouragements from daddy, happily opened her mouth for the carrot mush. She made a face, squeezing her eyes and shaking her head. “I know darling, I know, it’s not cake or your animal crackers but just finish the jar.” Rosie continued shaking her head, Sherlock coming to the rescue by making silly faces, making Rosie laugh so John could feed her. Rosie finished half the jar before she vehemently shook her head, pushing the spoon away with babbled protests as Angelo eventually returned with their food. “Alright, you’re lucky this time missy,” John admonished with a smile, giving her the sippy cup with juice.

John looked at his plate just as Angelo lit the candle that most definitely wasn’t there before. John looked to Sherlock expectantly but Sherlock had a fist in front of his mouth, poorly concealing his smile. Sherlock laughed at John’s look, shrugging and grabbing the wine bottle, pouring a generous amount for himself and John.

John sighed and took up his glass. Sherlock raised his, John eventually following. “To Rosie,” Sherlock announced, gazing at the infant heartily drinking her juice. “Happy Birthday darling, here’s to many more.”

“Cheers,” John said with a smile, nuzzling Rosie playfully before taking a sip of the oaky drink. It warmed his stomach, the smell of the food pleasant, allowing him to relax into his seat. He looked at Rosie, a happy normal beautiful baby, the most important people in his whole world. He looked across the table, guilt briefly tainting his pleasant mood as he thought of Mary, who should be here enjoying her daughter’s first birthday, but also guilty because seeing Sherlock across from him, with his dark curls still ruffled from the wind outside, his black suit jacket opened, actually eating a decent meal for once, made John happy in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

Sherlock noticed John staring, so John looked down and began eating, starting conversation about the last case they recently accomplished and what he should name it for the blog.

…

“Come now Rosie, be a good girl. I know you’re exhausted, you’ve had a busy day.”

“No…no no…” Rosie mumbled along with some more nonsensical noises that John roughly translated to I don’t want to go to sleep and you’ll never make me!

John sighed, bouncing on the balls of his socked feet with his fussy child in his arms. Rosie rubbed at her face tiredly, struggling against the sleep that was obviously taking hold of her. “Come now, darling. Sleep for daddy.” John placed Rosie in her bed, grabbing her stuffed elephant for her to cuddle but she wasn’t having it today.

“She still fighting it?” Sherlock asked from the doorway. John turned to see he was in his pajamas already, loose tshirt and gray sweatpants. His feet were bare. Seeing Sherlock this casual still gave John pause, something vulnerable in the bared forearms, something small in the bagginess of the clothes…

“Um, yeah,” John said, shaking his head as he looked back to his daughter. “The birthday girl wants to celebrate until the last second apparently.” John sighed, pulling the soft blanket over the child who merely kicked weakly. “Maybe if you played for her or something, that always used to put her right to sleep when she was smaller.”

“No, not tonight,” Sherlock mused, his voice the same one he got on a case when pieces were falling into place. “I think tonight, Rosie needs something different. Something special.” Sherlock stepped into the carpeted room, standing beside John beside the bed to look down at Rosie. “Would you like a story tonight, Rosie?”

Rosie looked up at Sherlock, a small smile on her round face.

“Right then, good idea,” John said, stepping away to go grab one of the children’s books sitting on the nightstand by the door. He was stopped by Sherlock lightly grabbing his wrist.

“Ah ah, this isn’t going to be a story from a book,” Sherlock said, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he looked to John. Sherlock looked back to Rosie. “This is a story I’m sure we’ll tell you again Rosie, over and over as you get older, adding more details and information. For now, we’ll keep it simple.” John looked at Sherlock, a wrinkle in his brow as he tried to figure out what this man was planning. “This, Rosie, is the story of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson.

“An army doctor, back home in London, struggling, injured, alone. Looking for a place to stay. And, as fate had it, another man was going through similar struggles, alone, looking for someone to fill the empty room in his flat, and the empty hole in his life.” John stared at Sherlock, at first in amusement, but then wonder. Sherlock’s voice, that soothing baritone that had instilled in John every conceivable emotion—irritation, fear, hope, happiness, inspiration, amazement, affection—now entranced him in the tale of their lives, of their meeting.

“John Watson was promptly introduced to Sherlock Holmes via a mutual acquaintance. Sherlock, with a few mild observations, managed to impress the doctor so thoroughly that he couldn’t contain his verbal amazement and immediately agreed to moving in—”

“Lets not make me sound like some star-struck fool.”

“Well, not a fool, but from how I remember it you did seem a bit—”

“Sherlock.”

“Anyway, despite the doctor’s mental handicap and denial of his need for—”

“Ahem.”

“—Sherlock Holmes saw the potential in him. He saw something inside the doctor—a genuine care, heart and understanding of information and people that Sherlock Holmes never wanted to admit he was lacking. So he invited John Watson to work with him. They examined a corpse—”

“Maybe not the best subject for my infant daughter—”

“She’s barely going to remember any of this and it’s not like I got into the murder, or the blood under her nails or—” With a pointed look from John, Sherlock continued on. “They ran around the city, and staked out a restaurant called Angelo’s. Sherlock Holmes eventually caught the monster criminal, and John Watson saved Sherlock’s life. It was the beginning of something…extraordinary. On that day, January 29th, history was made and the two men’s lives were forever changed, irrevocably intertwined.”

John started slightly. January 29th ;that was today. It couldn’t really have been…but Sherlock’s memory was impeccable. When Sherlock found information important, he never forgot it. John looked to Sherlock in wonder for a moment, his expression soft. Sherlock was looking down at Rosie. John noticed she had finally fallen asleep. He brought the blanket to her chin, making sure she was tucked in and comfortable before gently kissing her forehead.

“Happy anniversary John,” Sherlock said softly, putting his hand on John’s back. His palm was warm through John’s shirt. Everything was warm and soft, a kind of peace in the room that John Watson at one point in his life never thought he would feel.

He looked up at Sherlock, who stood close beside him, hand still hesitant on him. John smiled slightly, shaking his head. “And you call me a romantic,” he accused quietly. Sherlock smiled, unable to deny the accusation. Sherlock leaned down, soft lips pressing to John’s temple. “Oh come here,” John muttered, putting a hand behind Sherlock’s neck and guiding him downward, kissing his mouth softly, slowly, lips warm and welcoming, relief spreading through them both as they held each other, seven years finally melting together as they realized what should have been obvious that first night at Angelo’s on January 29th, 2010.

...

A short, cute little thing for their anniversary. I wrote it up quick today to make sure I actually got it out on the 29th. Despite much disappointment this month, I still love this fandom and this show. I still love these boys and believe in the love the show constructed for them. I believe they eventually find happiness in each other, and spend every anniversary happy together as a family in 221B Baker Street.

Thank you to everyone

#sherlock #bbc sherlock #johnlock #tjlc #john watson #sherlock holmes #fanfiction

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