Tumgik
#everyone else is justifiably proud. i should be too. so feedback would be appreciated. this is new c: )
oldfritz · 1 year
Text
Intricate Rituals
ao3
roderich's spent enough seasons in my world in the hot seat. instead, my friends, it's time for gilbert - gilbert, who has long had this coming - to be our latest victim. it's alright though, whatever erzsi does to him gil can do just the same and wouldn't you know it....antonio's in town and without custody of the brain cell
2 notes · View notes
shurisneakers · 3 years
Text
shut in [14]
Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)
Warnings: anxiety, violence, guns, death, ptsd, swearing, abuse
Word count: 6.3k
A/N: last chapter you guys :’’’’) im too emo about a fanfic i s2g. there’s an epilogue but this is the official last chapter. 
i really appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!
Tumblr media
Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist
You had only heard of the warehouse before, never actually seen it.
Its reputation preceded it. It was only mentioned in passing as a place for the worst of the worst.
It was murky and smelled like rust, concrete and rotting corpses. You had no doubt a few of them would be littering the place. A few tube lights shone over you graciously like a spotlight, barely illuminating the area. 
The room you were in was utterly silent. The only exception were noises outside the door; loud shouts and clanging of metal. You assumed it to be people in the other rooms. Your assessment on how tight the ropes were coiled around you earned a few grunts and odd squeaks, but nothing major. 
You were bound to a chair, of course, with knots you had used before on others. It felt like a convoluted form of irony. It was firmly nailed to the ground to prevent you from using it against captors. You were gagged; pretty well, by the look of it. 
A noise from beside you threw you off track. A quick look to your left and you found Sam in a similar predicament. He shook his head slightly, implying that it was useless to find an opening. At least he was alive and breathing. 
“Are you done?” A voice came from behind you, echoing within the four walls. “I really want to get going and you’re taking too long.”
You knew who it was. It was impossible for you to mistake it at this point.
“Don’t mind the noise outside. We’re just torturing a bunch of people to death.��
You roll your eyes out of sheer instinct. The footsteps slowly moved towards the front of the room, heavy and deliberate. The expensive material of his suit shone under the light as he edged in front of you. Only he’d wear Armani to a murder.
The dramatic fuck clearly rehearsed it.
“Hey Buttercup,” Ransone smiled, distinctly proud of himself. Your bite on the bundle of cloth haphazardly shoved in your mouth tightened. “Been waitin’ on you for a while now. Wilson’s no good company.”
You sneak a glance at Sam’s side profile and he looks relatively untouched. There were a few cuts on his face that you could make out under the harsh light but that was it. 
“You can’t get out of those, if you're wondering.” He gestured to your current set up. “I told you, Sam. I save my warehouse for special guests. All your fun tools are gone. Took ‘em when you were brought in.”
As your eyes adjusted to the lighting, you faintly make out the presence of two men in the corners of the room, stiff as cardboard. His security. 
“Oh! Except this.” He brandished the paper airplane you had brought with you in the utility belt. He’d use anything to potentially get a rise out of you.
“Gettin’ sentimental now, are we?” He tested the tip of the plane with his finger. 
You prayed he wouldn’t destroy it. It had more value than he was willing to bet on. 
“You must be asking yourselves why you ended up here,” Ransone mused, looking at the plane from all angles. “No need to worry, I’ll tell you.”
You didn't expect anything less from him. Everything about this felt cinematic; the inconvenient lighting, the men standing in the corner. This man oozed drama over efficiency. 
“When I was just starting out, people warned me. Told me I wasn’t going to get anywhere, that we’d always stay in the same position because that’s how it’s been for all these years.” He tested the plane, holding onto the body sturdily.  
“There were too many big names already. We were one of them, of course. My father did a good job of giving us a solid foundation.” He pulled his wrist back like he was going to launch it, only to never actually do it. He carried it through the air, simulating its flight pattern.
“You remember my father, don’t you? The guy who cut off someone’s finger because they didn’t finish the job.” Ransone really only had one story to tell about his father and he worked it to death. Other than a few handful of times, his father never bothered about his presence much from what you heard. He favoured the ones who were brutal and Ransone- well, he was a glorified theatre kid. 
“Of course you do. He was an incredible man.” He laughed crisply. “But he had no real ambition. No drive. I told him we could have been at the top, the ones parents warn their kids about. He didn’t listen to me. He never really paid attention.”
His tone got wistful in the end, eyes distant like he was living the scene out in his head. 
“So obviously when he died, I had the chance to really make a difference. Really set us apart. Ten Rings and Hydra had their own niche; they had some ties with the military and the government and whatnot. Crazy motherfuckers, all of them.” He shook his dead in distaste. “But Serpentine- that was closer to home. Same market as us.”
You wondered how long he would take to get to the point. The only distraction you had were the noises that continued outside. An odd gunshot here and there really pulled your attention away from the story.
“Serpentine with their stupid code names. They really thought they were all that.” He sounded embarrassingly like a bitchy teenager. “Who do they think they were fooling with the Norse Gods thing, huh? Naming your leader Odin, his wife Frigga.”
“I fucking hated them,” he spat, face twisting into anger. “Told them to watch out, that I’d end their legacy. They laughed in my face.” 
He spun around, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he pointed to Sam, “That’s where you come in.”
Sam looked thoroughly irritated with the show that was going on in front of him. If he wasn’t gagged you had no doubt he’d have a few comments to pass. Ones that would get the both of you killed. 
“I told you to kill their leader. One job. You fucked that up.” Sam recalling the story of his first mission flashed in your memory. “Let that old nutjob into your head and allowed him to escape. We didn’t know where he was for years.”
“I let it go because I thought Serpentine was done for. Radio silence after Odin disappeared. And they were, until a few years ago when I get news that they have a new leader. Odin’s son, the new heir.” He waved around his hands, mocking the last part of his sentence. “Word on the street was that he wanted to kill whoever murdered his mother in front of his eyes.”
“I thought that was hilarious. You know why?” He laughed humourlessly. “Because that was you. You were the one who killed his mother. You remember that? Your big mission?”
“You killed my mom,” he jeered, unmoving.
“I’m sorry. I had to.” Your voice was quiet. Your hand clutched at the hood of the car to keep your balance. “But I don’t want to hurt you. Go.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be there. No one had even heard of him. His brother’s too soft to take on anything like this. He’s some farmer in England now. But he was supposed to be Odin’s only son. Yet somehow, the only person who could have known this other son existed and actually seen him… was you.”
“Turns out he’s like you. A secret adoption. No record of him anywhere.” You didn’t blink, not once taking your eyes off him in case he decided to go wild. “He should have died that day. You were supposed to kill them.”
Only Ransone would justify killing a kid because it fit his agenda. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before, and though he tried very hard to shove his ideology onto you, you never complied.
“Goes by Loki now, another stupid codename. Trained by his father who this idiot let go of.” He gestured to Sam callously, “and mad about the murder of his mother that you committed. Serpentine came back pretty quickly after he took control.”
A particularly loud sound of metal slamming would have made you jump had you not been tied down. Ransone swung around in anger, loudly cursing at them for ruining his train of thought. He muttered some more curses under his breath before plastering a fake smile on his face and continuing.
“I’ll admit, he’s a sneaky one. But they grew faster than any other cartel. They somehow knew all our connections, all our targets, our key players. It wasn’t possible,” he shook his head low as he paced up and down slowly. You knew where this was headed. “Unless we had someone giving them information from the inside.”
He stops to look at you.
“I would have forgiven you, Y/N, I really would. You know how I am about second chances.” He looked at you, eyebrows upturned with regretful eyes. “But then you had to go and spy on me for two years.”
You could see Sam turn to you from the corner of your eye, assessing your reaction. You didn't extend the same courtesy to him. You didn’t have any reaction.
“We found out very late, of course. I taught you well,” he chided, his inescapable  narcissism making an appearance once more. “But then we had to figure out why. Why you’d betray me and everything I’ve done for you.”
“I still can’t figure that out.” You wanted to scream at him, everything he had taken away from you, everything he forced you to be. “I treated you the best out of everyone I had. You had the best training, the best resources. You wouldn’t have made it anywhere if I didn’t drag you out of that shithole orphanage.”
You had heard of blissfully ignorant, but he was well beyond that at this point. 
“Didn’t take too long to connect the dots. What, with Wilson’s great act of charity and your lack of better judgement, both of you managed to fuck up enough to screw me over years later.”
“I initially was only going to have you killed, Buttercup,” he admitted nonchalantly, like your life had no value. “But then we found out that Sam’s been lying to me for a long time too. Been hidin’ his friend a few states away.”
“It was meant to be,” he cooed. “Such a similar past. You could have met each other before, you know? Pierce wouldn’t be the first time you were at the same house on the same day.”
You couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if you had known Sam earlier. Would you have been friends or would you have been forced to kill each other in his sick ‘survival of the fittest’ game?
“It felt poetic to have you both die together, you know? On a mission gone wrong. A full circle.” God, he spent too long planning something elaborate when he could have just put a bullet in your head and ended you the day he found out. Fucking weirdo.
“Made sure I sent you to the same place at the same time. Pierce was dead long before you came, the poor fuck. But then again, collateral damage. No mercy.” He shrugged. “Had everyone at the ready. You should have died that night.”
“But like everything you do,” his voice suddenly rose like a child throwing a tantrum, “you fucked that up for me too. Escaped with his stupid fucking car.”
“None of those useless agents could find you. How could they?” The beauty was that Ransone must have spent too long looking when you were basically right there, just miles away. “You didn’t go to one of our locations and Serpentine hides their safehouses well.”
You still remembered the relief when the door accepted your fingerprint. 
 It was a long shot but you didn't have anywhere else to go. You weren’t even sure that this house existed.
Another loud crash arrived from the outside with noises that sounded like more gunshots, making Ransone jump this time. Just how many people were being tortured here?
“Keep the volume down, you stupid fucking imbeciles!” he screeched, pounding at the metal door. The decibel reduced, but still continued on.  
He dragged his palm across his face in exasperation, talking under his breath to himself. He shook his head before turning back to you.
"Oh, by the way, don't think about escaping. Got every last one of my best agents out here after that stunt you pulled at Pierce’s house,” he says offhandedly.
He takes a second to regroup, get back into character.
“So we released your pictures to the public. Can’t go very far if people are looking for you constantly. It was the only way we could get you to stay in one place.” Ransone raised his shoulders casually. “We had every lowlife out there waiting for one of you to show up.”
“We eventually had someone report Wilson in a town a while away from Pierce. I was making my way there but then you sent me your location on your own. Had men outside your house that night.” He paused, peering at the plane in his hand.
He finally let it go, watching as it barely went any distance before nose diving to the ground. Your eyes trailed after it, hoping he wouldn’t crush it with his foot.
“This is the worst fucking paper plane I’ve ever seen. The balance is completely off.” He stared at it in wonder, picking it up again and shoving it back into his pocket. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. “Anyway one of them heard you talkin’ about how you’re leaving the next day so we just got ready at the door.”
“Et voila.” He grinned, spreading his arms. “Here we are. Brilliant, wasn’t it?”
Unnecessarily long, but you weren’t going to complain. 
“Oh, I forgot you can’t talk.” His mouth quirked downwards into a ‘whoops’. 
He took a long pause right in front of you before his hand reached out to cradle your face. “I wouldn’t let those idiots kill you, Buttercup. You deserved better than that.”
He stared unnervingly into your eyes, looking for a hint of anything, any sort of remorse. He wasn’t going to find any. You wished he saw nothing but hatred. 
“It’s why I had to kill you myself.” He sighed when you pulled your face away the best you could from his palm in disgust. “But I’ll do you a solid. I’ll give you a chance to beg for forgiveness. Maybe if you’re good enough I’ll let you go.”
You knew he was lying. He had no intention of doing that. He only wanted you to grovel in submission, plead for your life for a fucking power trip.
He ripped off the tape that was over your mouth, making you flinch at the burn. He pulled out the cloth faster than you could spit it out at him.
“Go ahead,” Ransone said smugly. His ego would outlive all of you. 
“Him first.” Your mouth was dry and your lips felt chapped. You had clearly been knocked out for a while by then. You had no idea how far away you were from the original location.
“What?” His smile dropped to a frown rather quickly.
“Him first.” You mentioned towards Sam with your head. 
“That’s cute.” He laughed, stopping when you didn’t join in. “Oh, you’re serious.”
“I’m not saying shit till he does too.” You were bemused, monotonous. You just wanted to get this over as quickly as possible. 
“Fine,” he huffed when your expression didn’t change. “It’d be fun to watch him beg anyway.”
You hear the rip of the tape from his face, the scrunch of the material before he balled it up and threw it on the floor.
Sam shook his head furiously, forcing Ransone to take a step back swiftly before he hit him. 
“Right.” Ransone clapped his hands together. “Let’s get star-”
He was interjected by another loud bang followed by a series of gunshots. Another victim massacred. He groaned in frustration, stamping his feet at the constant interruption. The universe was determined to not let him finish his monologue in peace, and for that, you thanked her.
You looked at Sam, nodding slightly. He gave you a small smile in return, calming the nerves you were beginning to feel.
“Where were we?” Ransone did not look happy; a vein was dangerously visible on his forehead. Now would not be the best time to do anything that angered him. “Yes, go ahead. Beg.”
“Ransone,” Sam began, exhaling lightly. “We knew.”
The smile on Ransone’s face faltered. “What did you say?”
“He said we knew,” you cut in. “You melodramatic fuck.”
Ransone’s grin faded abruptly and it was by far the most satisfying experience you had ever experienced.
“Yeah, we figured it out ourselves a while ago.” Sam had the slightest smirk on his face. “Y/N did, actually.”
“Fuck,” you cursed.
You could feel his muscle shift as he looked at you. 
“What’s wrong?” 
You opened your mouth but shut it again. How do you explain it to him without sounding utterly ridiculous?
“I need to tell you something and I need you to hear me out before saying anything,” you pulled away from him, shuddering at the sudden cold that enveloped you. 
“I’m listening.”
“I think it’s Ransone. He’s been trying to kill us.”
“Why?” He didn’t sound judgemental, hardly even fazed, like it was a completely plausible suggestion. You couldn’t express how glad you were.
“The guy you didn't kill, if he’s the old head of Serpentine, then... I know his son.” Your mouth was dry as your mind raced to piece it together. “He’s the one I didn’t kill.”
“What?” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, and you could see him trying to figure out the connection. “How are you so sure?”
You closed your eyes, letting out a deep exhale. “I’m going to need you to not react to what I’m going to tell you.”
“Okay...” he trailed off. 
“I’ve been working with him for two years. Passing information on to him about Ransone.”
“Wait so that means-”
“I’m the spy. And I think Ransone figured it out. He wants to kill me.”
“You knew,” Ransone stated. He looked like he was in a daze.
Sam looked at you once before nodding. “If you would shut up and let someone else talk for once, we would have told you a while ago.”
“It helped that you confirmed details about Pierce’s death without us having to tell you.” The last conversation you had with him replayed in your head verbatim. “There’s no way you would have known he was dead before we got there unless we told you. Or you did it.” 
“We knew you had agents outside the house. Kinda expected that when we gave you the address,” you shrugged the best you could, “Sam’s security cameras got all of them.”
“Made sure that one fuck behind the tree could hear us planning outside,” Sam added. “He wasn’t very stealthy, by the way.”
“Have you decided on a day?”
You nod, looking straight ahead into the darkness. “Tomorrow.”
“You sure? Our timing has to be right.”
“Yeah.” Your voice is coarse. “I’ll have to tell him.”
He nodded, leaning his elbows on his knees. He was too tall for the stairs, almost like he was crouching instead of sitting.
His voice dropped to a whisper like it’s a secret only meant for you.
“You knew you were going to be ambushed.”
“No shit.” You nodded. 
The loud bangs continued outside the door but you paid no heed to it. The closer it got, the more your stomach jumped, hoping that more people you pissed off didn’t storm in. You had quite a list anyway.
“You knew they were coming,” Ransone appeared like he had gears turning in his own head, trying to add everything up on his own. “Then why didn’t you run?”
“Well, we kinda needed all of you in one place.” 
“Huh?” He blinked, not listening to all the commotion that was going on around him. If he didn’t, he was choosing to focus on this instead.
“We had to take out all of you at once,” you disclosed, fidgeting with the rope to see if it would give. “Kinda knew you were waiting to kill us yourself when we gave you the location and nothing happened immediately. You’re too much of a sissy to kill us without backup so we wanted you in one place with the rest of them.”
You tilted your head towards the two men standing in the corner.
“You knew all this while and lied,” Ransone jeered, face twisting into something rather indiscernible; a nice mix of shame and rage.
“Not like we had another choice, man.” You just knew Sam was rolling his eyes. “You think I would voluntarily listen to you monologue like an idiot?”
“You did gag us,” you added, trying to buy as much time as you could. “That’s on you.” 
The ropes were still tight as could be and the chair wouldn’t budge. Even your feet were too tightly tied together to do anything. It was what you expected, but that wasn’t going to stop you.
“Shut up!” Ranone’s face was hideously red.
“You rehearsed it, didn’t you?” Sam called out, taunt in his tone. “With the lighting and shit.”
“He doesn’t have to. He does one a week to some poor fuck who has to listen.” 
You couldn’t believe the both of you were teaming up to bully a man who literally held the fate of your lives in his hands. It was something you never imagined yourself doing.
“How do people take you seriously?” Sam laughed. More than yours, his remarks seemed to be ticking Ransone off. 
Ransone let out a guttural cry, knuckles so white you were afraid they were going to break. He whips around, stomping over to pull the gun from the hand of one of his bodyguards.
“Easy there, DeNiro, that’s not a stage prop.” Sam chided.
The concrete in front of him suddenly cracks loudly. He looked up, slightly taken aback. 
“Next time it’ll be your fucking face,” Ransone snarled, waving the gun around like a maniac. You send a cautionary glance to Sam, telling him to back off. Ransone was volatile. He would act without thinking. 
“Why did you kill everyone I was friends with, Vincent?” you asked slowly, trying to divert his mind. 
He turned to you, a crazed look in his eyes.
“Why did you take everyone from me?” The more you asked, the more it became about genuine curiosity rather than a distraction from shooting Sam in the head.
“Take everyone from- none of them were going to last anyway!” He throws his hands up in the air angrily. “I was saving you from yourself. From the eventual pain.”
His face was desperate, and you for a second forced yourself to think from his perspective. He looked like he truly believed in what he was saying, like he genuinely thought he was supporting you. Like he cared. The thought that maybe he truly wanted to help you was the only way you could comfort yourself for so many years. 
“If you were in pain, you wouldn’t perform. I was only pushing you to your full potential,” he continued, a wild smile on his face mixed with eyes rimmed red like he was ready to cry. 
Your stomach sank, even though you hated it. It wasn’t about you, it was about what he could get from you. 
There was silence. Even the noises outside seemed to have stopped, all waiting for your next move.
“You’re a sick, conniving fuck,” your words waver, and you hope it hits him as hard as it can, “And I can’t wait till you’re dead.”
His face morphed from one of helplessness to slow fury once more. Manipulative prick.
“Do I have to remind you that you’re the one tied up?” He wipes at his nose, voice returning to normal. “The only reason you’re alive right now is because I need to know why you let yourself be captured so willingly.”
Your incessant need to know everything stemmed from him and the paranoia he induced in you from when you were a kid. Everything you thought was wrong about you came from him.
“We told you, you overdramatic fuck.” Sam drew the attention away from you thankfully. You took a deep breath, stabilizing yourself. 
“What, that you needed the team in one place to take us out?” Ransone asked, to no one’s answer. “You and what army?”
“Well, the one who’s been here for a while now,” you pipe up.
No one says anything. Pin drop silence reigns free. 
“You said he’d be here,” Sam hissed at you. “How much longer do we keep this going?”
“He said he would,” you argued back, feeling the heat creep into your cheeks.
“What the fuck are you both talking about?” Ransone asked, but you continued to ignore him.
“What are we going to do if he-”
The door violently exploded off its hinges, sending debris flying everywhere. You clenched your eyes shut and ducked your head to avoid getting smacked in the face with rubble
The dust hadn’t even cleared before multiple rounds were fired. You flinched when your ringing ears hurt more at the sound of gunshots. 
You struggle against your ropes, trying to get to Sam. They only get tighter until suddenly your arms break free. Your neck and legs soon follow as you shrug off the ropes that were cleanly sliced off.
Your ears were still getting used to the chaos when you notice someone humming behind you. It took a second to register that it was a fucking Britney Spears song. 
“What took you so long?” You coughed, waving the air in front of you to clear it as you stumbled towards Sam.
“I wanted to make an entrance,” Loki said dismissively, following you. “I think I may have overshot it by a few seconds.”
You fell to your knees in front of Sam, quickly moving to untie the familiar knots. He lifted his head to look at you, a thin layer of dust covering his face.
“Are you okay?” you asked in concern, simultaneously untying as fast as you could. It was one you had used many times before; a complicated knot that guaranteed you wouldn’t have been able to make it out of the bondage.
“I think my leg’s asleep but other than that I’m good.” 
You give him a small smile, thankful that he wasn’t hurt enough to lose his dry sense of humour. Your hand involuntarily reached up to brush some dust off his cheekbone. The intensity with which he looked at you had you swallowing thickly.
You snapped out of it quickly, working on freeing his legs as Loki took a step behind his chair to cut the rest of him loose.
“This him?” Sam mentioned to Loki, massaging his wrist to return some feeling into it. 
“You can just ask me, you know,” Loki commented, but clearly not taking any offence. 
“I’m sorry about your family, man.” 
You didn’t expect Sam to say that, and from the looks of it, neither did Loki. He stopped for a moment, before continuing to cut the last rope.
“You let my father go,” he said, sawing the last part off, “and although I personally think you should have killed the miserable old bastard, he made it clear that he owed you one.”
The both of you stood up. You glanced around the room, noting how both of Ransone’s bodyguards were on the floor, bullet holes riddling their body. 
He himself was beside them, lying facefront on the ground. Armani suit be damned.
“How many more are outside?” Sam asked, tearing your attention away from the bodies on the floor.
“All taken care of.” Loki put the knife back into its sheath on his thigh. “We made quite a commotion. I’m surprised he didn’t do anything.”
“He’s a little dense,” Sam remarked. Most of the noises you heard earlier weren’t just other victims being tortured, although you knew that it was still a large fraction of it.
“Should we go?” you asked, doing a quick sweep of the room. You found nothing moving among the pile of rubble.
“Unless you got anything else left to do.” Loki gestured to the large hole in the wall where the door was.
“I think we’re done.”
He simply nodded, spinning on his heel to walk out the room when someone yelled from behind you. 
You all halted what you were doing, slowly turning to look at where the noise was coming from.
“Don’t take another step,” Ransone warned, a gun pointed straight at you, barely able to stand straight. He looked worse than you’d ever seen him. His suit was torn and he had a few streaks of blood down his face. His hair was tousled and unkempt, rougher than it had ever been before. “Or I swear I’ll-”
“Oh, shut up,” Loki interjected, firing a shot into Ransone’s stomach before anyone could even react. He returned the gun to its holster that you didn’t even notice was there on his waist. “He talks too much.”
Ransone staggered back until he hit the wall, knees buckling beneath his weight as he slid to the ground. The gun he pried off his bodyguards lay where he was standing previously. 
You ignored Sam’s uneasy questions as you took a step forward. 
You picked the gun up, cautiously making your way to Ransone. You crouched next to his body. He looked at you before looking down. You followed his line of sight, watching as he lifted his hands. They were covered in blood. 
“How’d he know where to find you?” Ransone’s voice was more subdued than you’d ever heard him.
You reached over, slipping your fingers into his jacket pocket and pulled out the paper airplane that was flattened due to the impact.
“Hey, you can put a message in it. Maybe one of those button trackers, a microphone. The possibilities are endless.” He laughed, folding another one out of the limited supply of paper he had left.
You unfolded it, letting a small object, not bigger than a button, fall into your palm. He stared at it before realisation dawned on him. 
“I knew you’d take all my weapons, but you wouldn’t get rid of this,” you disclosed, folding the paper plane back to what it was and gently putting it into your pocket. It was still salvageable. “Not if you could use it to hurt me.” 
You watched him take a shaky breath, flinching when more blood rushed out of him. 
“You can still help me, Y/N. We can get out of here together,” he rasped. “Think about everything we’ve been through. We can work it out. I love you.”
You involuntarily let out a strangled cry at the last part. It was nothing but a last ditch attempt to persuade you, pull you back in.
“Look- look at me. Buttercup,” he croaked when you wouldn’t oblige. “I love you. I’m your home.” 
You finally look at him. Look right into his eyes, red rimmed and fading. You look for it, the adoration he spoke of. The care he promised. Anything to make sense of why he would tear you apart time and time again. The love he had for you.
You find nothing. Gray eyes look back at you blankly, desperately, in pain.
“You never were,” you whisper, standing up abruptly. 
You raised your arm, pointing the gun at him. He sputtered out more half baked apologies, unaware of anything that was coming out of his own mouth.
You clench your eyes shut, pulling the trigger. He lets out a cry when the bullet lodges in his shoulder. 
You take a step back, letting the scene imprint itself in your brain of him powerless on the ground at your will. If you followed what he preached, you’d have ended his life right there. No mercy.
But you weren’t him. And you didn’t ever want to be.
“I need to do something too,” you heard Sam say. You can feel him near you, brushing against you for a moment as he gently reached for the gun you held. You gave it to him, feeling him squeeze your hand in reassurance. 
Ransone looked at Sam as he stood beside you. He fired a single shot into his leg, clearly hitting bone. You hear the same wail from before, mixed with sputtering as blood leaked from his mouth.
“That was from Riley. He says fuck you.” Sam let his hand fall again. “All yours, man.” 
“You already know what this is for,” Loki said simply. 
You chose not to look away as he shot the last round right into his forehead. Ransone’s head slumped over. Dead, glassy eyes stared beyond you. 
None of you say anything. Just stare at the lifeless body in front of you.
“It’s really over, huh?” Sam’s voice is quiet, like he's having trouble processing what just happened.
You don’t answer. Only take a step towards him, and intertwine your fingers with his, continuing to stare at the corpse of your lifelong abuser. 
____
The sun was beating down on you. You didn’t expect it to be evening when you stepped out of the warehouse. 
“Where are we?” you asked, shielding your eyes from the sudden brightness that left you squinting.
“Middle of nowhere, I’d say.” Loki stares with disdain at the old building that looked worse for wear. “Would it kill the man to have a bit of taste?”
That reminded you. “Thanks for the house. And… sorry we showed up uninvited.”
“You didn’t do too much damage to it, I hope.”
You looked at him guiltily, mind flashing to the many bullet holes that decorated the back wall. “I’ll pay for the repairs.”
“Forget it. It’s of no use since everyone knows it exists now.” He dismissed with a wave of his hand. “So, Y/N. I guess that concludes our deal?”
“I guess it does.” You nodded,
Sam wraps his arms around your shoulder and you lean into him with a sigh, allowing the comfort his touch brought to seep into you. 
“How’d you guys make a deal anyway?” he inquired. You closed your eyes, chest rising and falling steadily.
“Well, I was going to kill you at first,” Loki explained offhandedly, gesturing to you. “But then-”
He trailed off.
You remember, clear as day, when Loki confronted you in the early hours of the morning outside the park you went on runs. He had a gun pulled on you before you could fathom what was going on, before you could even realise who he was.
“But then?” Sam prodded.
“Did he make it?”
“He did,” you divulged the information you had found out a while ago. It was a messy confrontation to say the least but you got out unscathed.
“Saw something that I recognised,” he said dryly, eyeing you up and down. “We were both pulled into something we didn’t have a say in. Stuck, you could say. I just thought that it was a win-win situation if we worked together to kill that idiot back there.” 
“So you agreed to spy on him,” Sam concluded. “You got revenge. What was your incentive?”
You look at Loki who just smiled at you. You return one half heartedly.
“I’d say freedom is a pretty big reward, wouldn’t you?” And it was. You couldn’t even begin to explain the weight that would be lifted off your shoulders. “I can’t guarantee you’ll have a perfectly normal life. Might have to change your identity, move around a bit.”
“Everyone’s looking for us as wanted criminals,” Sam voiced everything you were forgetting about in the surge of emotions rushing through you.
“I got some connections,” Loki said dismissively. You peered at him from under Sam's arm. “I can have it traced back to a dead mobster in a warehouse, no problem. If they think it’s a gang war there’s no way they’ll try to get too involved. Consider it a gift from my father.” 
Sam nodded, relaxing slightly now that most things were taken care of.
“That’s sorted then.” Loki examined the barren land that surrounded you. “You’re going to need a ride back to civilization, aren’t you?”
“If that’s possible.”
“I’ll have someone drop you off. You got any place to go? At least to stay low for a while.”
You didn’t have anyone. The only one you had was the man beside you. Nothing was settling in at the moment, and you realised that it would be a long road until it did. But you had a shot. A real shot at something even resembling recovery. 
Sam and you looked at each other before he turned back to Loki and nodded.
“New Orleans.”
Next part
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <3
here’s a list of references/foreshadowing to the end all throughout the series!
239 notes · View notes
Text
“Under the Knife” - Part 6
“Under the Knife” - Part 6
My Masterlist - Here
Story Masterlist - Here
My Tag List - Here
Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader
Word Count: 3,500-ish
Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color
Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Death, Murder, and Violence
Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.
Tumblr media
Author’s Note: This is my first Hannibal piece and I am proud of it. There aren’t too many stories for Hannibal, so I figured I would add to the collection.
This does take place in some happy medium where they are all alive and work together. Sort of a happier season 1 era.
This is beta-read by @theeactress​, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again! 
If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!
<3
- DreaSaurusREX
Tag List: 
@fruitloopzzz​ @theeactress​ @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique​ @all-by-myself98​ @sj-thefan​ @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude​ @ntlmundy​ @a-person-unlabled
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-
The last few days were weird for you. While working the Virginia Scalpel case, you still had to give lectures and work the occasional museum shift. Luckily you were able to give more and more of your museum shifts to your coworkers, saying that you needed the time to focus on the case or to finalize your lecture outlines. 
Between two lectures and a museum shift, you were able to narrow down your suspect list even more. Pulling every male doctor within a 50-mile radius who fit the height range and who wasn’t super young, old, or generally weak looking. You dropped it off to Jack’s office while he was in a meeting of some sort, thankful that you wouldn’t have to talk to him just yet.
After that night at the Pencalt crime scene, things seemed to take more energy than you expected. You could get up and function through your work day, but when it came to socializing or even having to have work related conversations, you found yourself doing them through email or not at all. This included talking to Hannibal or Will.
Both of them had tried calling or texting you, and you’d try to respond with a “Can’t talk right now,” or an “I’m busy.” But sometimes you didn’t have the energy and straight up ignored them. 
You knew what they wanted to talk about. And you had to admit that after letting it settle in your brain, you wanted to too. But you knew that that conversation would be a long one that required patience.
Which is why you decided to call in sick and work from home today. You weren’t scheduled a lecture or a museum shift, and everything you planned on doing in your office could be done at home. 
You understood the urgency of this case. The team only had about a week left to catch this guy before another doctor would be found in pieces. But you weren’t the only one working this case, and you were still waiting on results from Beverly, Price, and Zeller. So you justified taking today a bit slower and tried to fit in some breaks for self-care as you worked.
The day started out with a peaceful breakfast, something you hadn’t had since before you joined Jack’s team. It was different and odd feeling now, but you tried your best to enjoy it and let your mind relax. After you put your stuff in the dishwasher, you sat down where your work stuff was set up at your dining room table, and felt your mind wander.
I know I should talk to Will or Hannibal, but that would be so draining right now. No. Just focus on breathing and getting as much as you can done today, alright, (Y/N)? We don’t need you combusting over personal shit while your killer is still out there. Now, what haven’t we gone over yet?
You started to sift through some of your scribbles as a piece of paper slid out of place from within your notebook. You slightly tilted your head and pulled the paper out, seeing that webname that you had learned to hate.
“Tattle Crime”
You were going to shove the article back into your book, but you knew that your curiosity would only grow the longer you didn’t read it. With a disapproving sigh, you went ahead and read the article. 
Freddie Lounds didn’t spend much time talking about the killer. She states that Dr. Pencalt was found like the other victims, and how he was a doctor with no obvious correlation to the others. Her “article” tends to focus more on you, Hannibal, and Will. 
“Much like her brother Will Graham, who we have talked about before, (Y/N) supposedly has a gift for the psychologically strange and unusual. But we have to wonder why he isn’t working this case? Will Graham has successfully assisted Jack Crawford and his team on multiple cases in the past. So why bring on a rookie when you have a prized horse in the stables?
Maybe that is why Crawford decided to bring in Dr. Lecter, who was also an integral role in some of the cases that Will Graham had worked on. He has years of medical knowledge outside the realm of psychology that could be helpful in this case, considering the Virginia Scalpel is suspected to have a medical background.. Maybe he will be the key to locking the Virginia Scalpel up for good?”
She then went on to talk more about Hannibal before bringing up the case again. You couldn’t even fully grasp at what you were reading or how to feel about any of it before your phone rang beside you, bringing you back to reality. Only, you didn’t really want to deal with reality when you saw that the caller ID said “Jack Crawford.”
“(Y/N) here.” You tried your best to not sound unenthused, but you couldn’t help the obvious apathy in your voice.
“How soon can you get here?” You knew that this would end with you coming into the office for who knows how long, so you begrudgingly stood up and started to try to find a comfy but work appropriate outfit to change into while talking to Crawford.
“I mean… An hour? Maybe? Give or take 10 minutes. Why? What happened?”
“Got that evidence you were waiting for.” You couldn’t discern if he was at all happy about that.
Of course the one day I try to take it easy is the day we get results. You took a deep breath in and tried to form a coherent sentence.
“I--Uh… Okay. I’ll try to--”
“I’ll see you in the lab in an hour.” Jack interrupted and then hung up before you could say much else, knowing that that was an order, not a suggestion. You put your phone down and groaned before starting to get dressed.
~~~~~~~~
Pulling into your normal parking spot, you saw that you had made it to the office with 15 minutes to spare thanks to you not having the energy to do your hair or makeup today. 
You got to your office and left the door open, knowing you would only be there for a minute or two. While you unpacked your bag, you heard someone clear their throat from your doorway. Turning around, you saw Will standing in the threshold with two cups of coffee. 
“Look what the cat dragged in.” He tried to joke, but you just shot him a look. He winced and extended one of the cups out to you. “Peace offering?”
You sigh and accept the cup, not sure of what to say other than a quick “thanks.” Will stood there while you took a sip and continued to set up your stuff.
“You haven’t answered any of my texts.”
“I’ve been busy. And I’m still quite busy. I have to go and meet with everyone in,” you look at the clock on the wall. “5 minutes.”
“Jack’s really got his hooks in you, huh?” 
 “I tried to take a sick day and work from home, but lab results are in. Which means I’m also in.”
“Sick Day? You never use sick days.”
“First time for everything, I guess.” You turn around and try to walk past him but he stops you.
“(Y/N), I-” 
“I really don’t want to talk. At least not right now. You and Hannibal are on thin ice right now. And there are more important a-and time sensitive things that need to be taken care of.”
“Look, (Y/N), I can explain--”
“Explain what exactly? That you really didn’t trust me when I said that I could handle myself? That you really think I am going to let Jack push me so much during my first real case that you had to have Hannibal step in as some sort of watchdog? I know you’ve had bad experiences with Jack, but goddamnit can’t you just let me learn and experience whatever happens on my own?”
“You’re upset--”
“No shit, Sherlock.” 
“And I-I get that, but just--”
“No. I have a job to do.”
“Then come by the house later. Have a drink, o-or we can get takeout, and I can tell you my side of the story.”
You paused as you looked down slightly and started to fidget with your ring. Will is looking in your general direction, trying to figure out how to ease the anxiety that was surely coursing through your amygdala and hippocampus, or at least some of the resentment that had fought its way through your eyes.
“Even if you don’t want to talk and we end up just sitting around, I’m sure the dogs would like to see their favorite aunt.”
“I’m their only aunt.” You both smiled at the joke. His smile was more out of relief while yours was just a quick smirk. His fades quickly as you rub your face and sigh out, “We’ll see. I have no idea what’s waiting for me in the lab. So I can’t promise anything. And as upset as I am with you, I do miss those dogs.”
“Just let me know when you decide and we will make time for it.”
You just nod and he lets you walk past. Will follows you out and closes the door behind the two of you. Before you could hit the elevator button, he spoke out to you. 
“Despite what you think, I do care about you, you know.” 
You stop in your tracks and turn around to face him. You could see the pain on his face even though you know he was trying to hide it. Your heart broke as you took a large inhale.
“I know you do. We’re family. We’ll always care about each other no matter what.” You give him a small smile to try to reassure him that what you were saying was true. He nodded and headed back towards the lecture halls and you hit the button to call the elevator, preparing yourself for as much insanity as you could.
~~~~~~~~
“(Y/N), right on time” Jack announced as you walked into the lab. Everyone was there and ready to go, including Hannibal who was on the other side of the table facing you. You hoped that he wouldn’t put together how off you were feeling today from your rushed appearance.
“Sorry, I would have been here sooner, but I had a run-in with my brother. What’ve I missed so far?” You opened up your notebook and joined the circle around the exam table that had Dr. Pencalt’s body on it. You internally winced as you realized that Hannibal was most likely going to ask you about your ‘run-in’ with Will after this meeting. 
“Nothing yet. We were just about to start.” Zeller spoke up as he clapped his hands together and began his presentation. A lot of it was information that was similar to the previous victims. All of the cuts were made with surgical tools to ensure clean cuts, no obvious mutilations outside the killer’s usual, all focus was on the doctor as opposed to his wife, and so on.
“The paralytic that was used on Dr. Pencalt was the same as the other vics. It was a high enough dosage that he felt the effects within a minute or two.”
“Do you have the location and angle on the injection point?” Zeller nodded and handed you a printout that had various information about the small needle mark: diameter, insertion angle, depth, et cetera. 
“He was pricked right here.” He used a gloved hand to turn Dr. Pencalt’s head and point to a small dot on the side of his neck. You just nodded and tried to imagine the killer coming and attacking him. You were starting to solidify the height range of your suspect.
“The angle is pretty flat, which means our suspect is either the same height as him or maybe an inch taller or shorter. How tall was Dr. Pencalt?” You heard Jimmy open a file and hum a note as he found out.
“5 foot 11.” You nodded and saw the height range of the shadowy silhouette of the killer in your mind narrow.
“So our killer is between 5’10” and 6’.”
“Is that all?” Jack asked in an audibly annoyed voice. You weren’t sure if it was directed at you specifically or at the situation in general. Jimmy, Brian, and Beverly all looked at each other as if they were kids who had broken an expensive vase and had to tell dad. Beverly was the brave kid that stepped forward.
“No. There is one more thing.” She turned around and got a tray from the other side of the room, bringing it back to the circle. “This was found lodged in his throat.”
On the tray, there was a distorted but still legible article from TattleCrime.com, the same article that was in your apartment. The only major difference was that this one was highlighted wherever it mentioned Hannibal or you. 
“We tried to pull any sort of prints or DNA off of it, but the only thing we got was Dr. Pencalt’s blood and saliva. The article is from our favorite tabloid, Tattle Crime. It’s about the case, but it also talks about (Y/N) and Hannibal...”
You tried to control your breathing as Beverly kept speaking, forcing yourself to take slightly deeper breaths than normal hoping no one would pick up on it as you finally spoke up.
“So, fun story…” Everyone’s eyes landed on you. “I have that same article printed out, but I didn’t print it. Someone slipped it under my door the other night.”
You saw Jack readjust his stance, a frustrated look growing in his eyes, and started to speak, but you cut him off, already knowing where this was going. 
“I didn’t bring it up because I honestly thought Hannibal or Will had slid it into my apartment as a way to try to scare me and make me resign from the case. For personal reasons, I have avoided talking to either of them unless it was absolutely necessary. So I never confirmed my theory.” 
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Hannibal or Jack. But if you had, you would have seen the small bit of guilt in Hannibal’s face. He knew no one else would pick up on it because he was a master at keeping his mask on to others, but after being with him as long as you had, you could see between the cracks. 
Jack looked towards Hannibal.
“Dr. Lecter, did you send the article to (Y/N)?”
“I did not. I’m just as taken aback as everyone else here.” 
“And did you receive a copy of this article at any point during the last week?”
“No. I have not read anything from Miss Lound’s website for a significant amount of time now.” Jack took a breath in and tried to be logical and figure out what the next step needed to be.
“Alright, you guys get me a list of every medical facility that supplies that paralytic. (Y/N), get your copy and give it to Price to see if he can get anything off of it. Then I want you and Dr. Lecter in my office.” Jack walked out before anyone could say anything.
You stood there in a bit of shock as you looked at the soiled article in front of you. You tried to read through the bits of blurred text. Everything involving you or Hannibal was doused in bright yellow marker. 
“Um… (Y/N)?” You couldn’t help the small instinctual jump as Jimmy tapped your shoulder. You quickly looked to him, trying to look okay despite learning that your name was literally in a key piece of evidence. “You okay?”
“Hm? Y-yeah! I mean, not really, but we’re not gonna talk about that right now.” You let out a forced exhale that you tried to make sound like a chuckle through a very forced smile. Before Price could ask anything else, you spoke up. “Here. It-its right here.”
“And you were the only one to touch this, right?” Price asked as he carefully grabbed the corners of your Tattle Crime article with clean and gloved hands. You just nodded in response. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.” 
You mutter a quick thank you and then make your way back to the elevator and back to your office to write out your notes on the killer’s more specific height range and the highlighted sections of the article in your notebook. 
Why us? I can somewhat understand Hannibal being chosen from an occupational standpoint. He is not only a psychiatrist, but he used to be a surgeon. But he has no ties to any of these other doctors. And what’s so special about me? I’m not a doctor of any kind. I don’t fit the killer’s m.o.
Your mind kept going on this internal monologue, trying to find any solid reasoning as to why both of you are now being focused on. It got even more frantic as you realized you only had about a week to figure it all out. 
Before you could write out much, you heard a soft knock on your open office door. You didn’t even bother looking up.
“Will, I really can’t do this right now. I told you I would text you when-- Oh. Sorry, Dr. Lecter.” You expected Will to be impatient and try to talk to you again, but instead you were met with the careful gaze of Hannibal. 
“No need to apologize.” He shut the door behind him and took a seat. “I thought you were comfortable with addressing me by my first name, (Y/N). Has that changed?”
“Look, I know you’re not really here to talk about that. But I’m not okay enough to talk about our personal lives at the moment. And if you’re here to ask about the Tattle Crime shit, I have no idea how--”
“I came to check up on you because I am worried about you, (Y/N).” You were taken aback for a moment. Not only does Hannibal usually never interrupt you when speaking, but he isn't always the most forthcoming when talking about emotions or concern.
“I’m fine.” You go back to trying to write out your ideas, knowing that if you gave him a fake smile, Hannibal would see right through it.
“The fact that you clearly stated that you were ‘not okay enough to talk about our personal lives’ and that you planned on taking a sick day today says otherwise.” 
You took a deep inhale and closed your notebook. Trying to not dump all of your thoughts, work related or personal, on him.
“It wasn’t really a sick day. It was supposed to be a day where I worked from home to try to remind myself to take a break and eat an actual meal, or do my laundry that’s been piling up, or maybe finally hang up that frame I bought three weeks ago. But apparently that wasn’t in my cards today. Yes, I’m tired. Yes, I don’t want to be around people right now. Yes, I really don’t want to be talking to you or Will about anything other than work right now. So if I need to be here, then I’m here. That’s my job.”
“But no matter how stressful a job is, you need to be able to recalibrate your mind so as to not overwork yourself until you become a hindrance. Holding on to the frustration and betrayal that you feel are surely contributing to that lack of ability to rest, (Y/N). If you allow yourself to talk to Will about it, or even myself if you feel more comfortable--”
“All of my focus is trying to go to this case, moreso now that you and I may be targets. I am your colleague and your friend. But I really don’t want to ruin the good relationship that we have by talking to you like I’m one of your patients, because I’m not one of your patients. So please, just--” 
You stopped yourself as you felt something click into place. Hannibal watched as you had a similar look in your eyes like how he had witnessed at the Pencalt crime scene. 
“Patient…” You were slowly closing your mind’s eye and seeing things clearly.
“You’ve figured something out, haven’t you?” Hannibal leaned forward in his seat in curiosity, truly enthralled by watching how your brain worked in these situations.
“A patient! The killer is a patient! Oh my god! We gotta go now!” You quickly stood up, grabbing your notebook as you did. “I think I just figured out who our killer is!”
90 notes · View notes
loudsuitlover · 4 years
Text
Doctor Harry X. Corto
A/N: This is just for those who care about The Golden Girls’ story too :) Thank you to everyone who reads and for the feedback. I really appreciate it! 
Tumblr media
J hangs the towel I let him on the line I set on my balcony. I set it myself because there’s something so comforting and relaxing for me about watching clothes hanging from the line. I think it reminds me of my Nana because she always seems to have something on the line. That’s crazy, really, because there was just my Nana and my Papa so it’s technically impossible that they had washing every day but that’s what I remember. It’s just costumbrist and I like it.
With his short blond hair still wet he takes a seat in front of Coco and me. He told us both the story between sobs and fits of crying on the way home. The bastard of David had dumped him forty minutes away by car from Grad because Jason told him he had gotten an acceptance letter from a hospital in New York. It’s for an internship in the summer, two months in New York learning Medicine. And the bastard, instead of being happy and proud, threw him out of the car. I’ve tried to keep it together and not tell him I’ve planned nine different ways of killing David and get away with it. He probably doesn’t need to hear that now. His green eyes are still bloodshot from all the crying but his breathing is back to normal. The warm shower did him good. He smiles when his eyes finally set on us.
“Thank you, guys, really. I don’t know what would have been of me without you girls.”
“Marie would have gone pick you up.” I tell him.
He smiles and nods but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“How are you feeling?” Coco asks.
Jason gives her a look before he sighs and shrugs.
“Embarrassed.” He confesses. “And silly and humiliated.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I’m going to break up with him, obviously.” He raises his eyebrows at my question. “I mean I’m not even sure we’re still together. I should have told him about the internship sooner.”
“What?” I can’t believe him. “That has nothing- absolutely nothing to do with what he did. What he did was wrong and he’s sick. I mean, even if you had told him something wrong, which you didn’t, but even if you had told him- I don’t know that you had cheated on him- it doesn’t justify that he fucking dumped you in the middle of the highway, J!”
“I know. I’m not saying that.”
“You’re justifying him! Again!”
“I’m not!” He yells.
I know Coco is uncomfortable by the way she’s sunk down on her chair but I don’t care. Jason needs to hear this.
“Yes, you are! You keep trying to turn him into this guy he’s not!”
“You don’t know him, Indie!”
“That’s right! He doesn’t let us! He keeps trying to take you away from us! I mean what kind of boyfriend doesn’t try to get involved into his partner’s life! He’s never even tried to talk to me.”
“Well he knows you have an opinion.”
“Of course I have an opinion! He’s a violent abuser!”
“He suffered a lot when he was a child! Do you know what it’s like to be abandoned by your dad? No, you don’t!” He cuts me off when I’m about to talk. “And he’s good, he just has a bad temper and anger issues but he’s trying to get better, okay?”
“Is he? Is he even going to therapy?”
“He doesn’t believe in therapy…”
I chuckle a mad laugh of crazy woman.
“That’s what they all say, J. Abusers justify their abuse with a dark past and they made you feel sorry for them so they can still hurt you over and over. He’s manipulating you, can’t you see it? You have to take that idea of your mind that you’re going to fix him because you won’t! He needs help, professional help, and you can’t give him that. I’ll tell you more, you’re perpetuating his toxic behaviour by allowing it.”
“That’s rich coming from you. You’re just projecting Javier on him, but David is not Javier, Indie.”
“Yes, he is! And I know because you’re doing all the things I used to do! Don’t you remember? You told me to break up with him a thousand times and I didn’t because I loved him and I also thought he was good deep down because he could be sweet too but that was only him being manipulative too… And I thought he would change for me too, that he loved me… But… It’s not your responsibility to try to help someone who keeps hurting you. Moreover, you can’t even do it. This is dangerous for you and for him.”
“Don’t even try to pretend like you care about him.”
“Of course I don’t. I care about you. And I’m not happy with what happened to you today, Jason” I start seeing him blurry until I can’t see him anymore and so I wipe my tears away with my hands. “But you need to break up with him, he’s no good for you or for anyone and he needs to get his shit together. What he did to you today was sick, J. You cannot forgive that.”
I feel his arms wrapping around me before I take my hands away from my eyes. And he rests his chin on top of my head like he had done so many times before. JJ’s always been there for me. He was there when Dylan died and he was there during his funeral and during all the months that follow that seemed to be my own slow, never-ending funeral; and then he was there for me every time Javier would do something twisted and when I left him too. I wrap my smaller arms around his broad back and rest my ear against where his heart is, feeling that old familiar heartbeat.
“I love you, Indie.”
“I love you too.”
“Aww.”
Jason laughs and tilts his neck to see a teary Coco. My sister is so emotional all the time, just like my Mum. I feel his chest rumbling when he laughs.
“Get in here, Coconut.”
She smashes her face against mine and from the corner of my eye I can see her smiling with her eyes closed. She loves a hug, too.
We hear my Mum’s laughter before we hear our friends coming. She walked with them towards my wing.
“Baby, the girls are here.” She says on the door. “Coco and I are going out but order something for dinner for you guys.”
It’s not strange for me that my mum speaks English to me. Usually we speak Spanish but she always says she remembers how she felt when her English wasn’t that good and she would hear my dad’s family speak English and laugh but wouldn’t understand much. She says she doesn’t want our friends to feel like that. 
“What time is it?”
I haven’t checked my phone all day.
“It’s 4 pm, honey.” She smiles. “Are you high?”
I roll my eyes at her and she giggles. She knows I’m not. Coco kisses Jason’s cheek before she gives a quick hug to Ollie and Marie and follow my mum outside.
“Hasta luego, Blue.” 
“Bye, doofus.” My sister grins as she leaves.
Despite being twenty years old, sometimes she acts like she’s twelve.  Marie and Ollie fight like a married couple about who locked the door when they went out before Ollie deploys an army of candy and junk food on the table. Jason looks at them amused.
“We brought the break up kit.” Olivia smiles.
“Because we’re breaking up with David Dick, aren’t we?”
My eyes widen at Marie and Olivia kicks her feet “discreetly”. Marie’s lips part and her eyes widen in horror of her realization too.
“Is that how you guys call him?” Jason tries to keep a straight face but the three of us see his hidden smile.
“You did say he had a big dick.” Ollie shrugs.
“And he’s a dick.” Marie adds.
Jason finally bursts out laughing. And the three of us join him before Olivia motions for us to hug him and the three of us surround him like he was an oak tree and we were trying to get positive energy.
Then the four of us sit on the table and eat chocolates and lollies without even realizing Jason and I haven’t even had lunch. Jason tells Ollie and Marie the full story and the two of them tell him David’s such a jerk and that not him neither anyone deserves that kind of treatment.
“Anyway what happened last night with Mario?” Jason asks Ollie.
I tilt my neck slowly so I’m facing my friend and she avoids my eyes looking down at the liquorice she’s eating. The last time we talked Mario was Mario who? and had clumsy hands. I suck my lips inside my mouth trying to hide my smile.
“So?”
“We didn’t have sex.” Ollie blushes.
“What?” The three of us ask in unison.
“It didn’t go well?” Jason asks.
“Wait, I need some context!”
“Right, you weren’t there.” Jason’s eyes widen.
“Mario came with Harry. Apparently they were together in O’Clock so when Harry said he was going Mario asked if he was going to see you and he said yes because apparently Harry’s got verbosity” Marie tells me and I chuckle. He really does sometimes. “And so he tagged alone in case you were with Ollie. Isn’t that romantic?” Marie looks at me like the heart eyed emoji and I smirk.
“But you were talking to that guy.” I interrupt.
“Well, we stopped talking.” She shrugs. “I don’t know what’s going on with your lips, Indie.” She points out all my hidden smiles. “But yeah then he came, we were drinking we danced, we kissed and I went home with him.”
Maybe he really does have clumsy hands and that’s why they didn’t have sex but then why is she leading him on?
“It didn’t go well after you left?”
“It was perfect.”
“Then?”
“It didn’t happen.” She shrugs.
There’s something going on with Mario for Ollie to act this way. I’ll ask Harry. Mario and Harry are friends and Harry’s nosy beyond believe. He’ll tell me.
“And you?” I ask Marie.
“What about me?”
“The redhead.” I smile.
“He burped.” She pouts as her eyebrows frown like Emile Clarke’s. 
We all burst into laughter but she keeps pouting despite her growing smile.
“And you can’t judge me because you dumped Álvaro for no reason and he was so cute.”
“And Spanish.” Olivia adds.
Jason celebrates Álvaro’s nationality too and I roll my eyes. I don’t care that he’s Spanish. I mean I like meeting Spanish people because they remind me of my mum’s heritage and I can speak Spanish to them but there’s nothing else you know about a person if you know they’re Spanish. I mean you know where they were born. That’s it. Then for what is worth, every person is their own person.
“But you left with Harry, didn’t you?” Olivia’s eyes widen.
“Wait were you with Harry when I called in the morning?”
I nod.
“Shit, dude, I’m sorry! I didn’t know. I thought you guys had cut things off.”
“Yes, but a leopard never changes its spots.” Olivia shrugs.
I roll my eyes. My eyes set on Marie and I can read her disapproving expression.
“He offered to drive to get you in the morning.” I defend him. “And he…” 
I was about to tell them about how he showered me with compliments but I decide that should stay between us. I don’t have to prove anything about him to Marie or to anyone else for that matter. 
“That was sweet of him.”
Thinking about Harry makes me think I haven’t checked my phone all day. Maybe I should call him? Let him know everything’s fine? But what am I thinking? That he’s going to be waiting for me to tell him about my adventures with The Golden Girls? I blush at the idea.
“You’re not falling for Harry, are you?”
“What?” I frown. “No! Of course not! He’s such an idiot!”
Because he is. Sometimes. When he guesses things about me assuming I’m a posh bitch or when he tells me I have many flaws or when he pulls away for no better reason after confusing me with affection. Plus, he’s said it himself; it’s just sex.
“If only you felt something for him…” Marie adds.
Her words shock me.
“What?”
“Well if you were dating maybe the rest of doctors wouldn’t look down on you as bad as they will when they know about you two.”
“They won’t know.”
“They will too.”
“Does Harry burp, Indie?” Jason changes the topic, God bless him, and the three of us chuckle.
“Not in front of me, no.”
“But anyway I didn’t know about this redhead, Marie.” Jason wiggles his eyebrows but she just rolls her eyes.
“There’s nothing to know, Jason.” She sighs and rests her chin on her hand. “I need love, not burps.”
“You need to stop thinking your prince will arrive on a white horse and fuck some guy so you’ll forget about it.” Olivia tells her.
I laugh at her cheekiness.
“What Olivia’s trying to say” I correct “is that being single is also fun. You don’t need to have a boyfriend, Marie; but maybe your obsession with finding love is overshadowing it?”
Maria shakes her head.
“No, it’s not that. I know I don’t need a man but I just… I want to be in love, you know? And I want someone to love me. I’m tired of being alone…”
I give her a sympathetic smile.
“Don’t lose hope, Marie Anne” Olivia wraps an arm around her shoulders and rest her cheek on top of her head “it’ll come.”
“Love?”
She looks up at Olivia, confused that our less romantic friend says that. To be honest, I’m confused too.
“No, sillyhead, mind-blowing sex.” The three of us laugh. “Like the one Indie has with Harry.”
I chuckle and roll my eyes. She’s such an idiot. I don’t know why I’m laughing.
“Did you know he’s from Bellamond?” I tell them.
The three of them look at me with wide eyes and I tell them the little I know about him. Jason hands me my phone over.
“Talking about the devil…” He smirks.
I’ve never replied faster to a text. 
Harry: How’s your friend?
Indie: A lot better, thank you.
“Look at that smile!” Jason teases and I swat him away playfully.
Indie: Thanks for asking.
Harry: No problem 😊 And you? How are you?
Indie: I’m good thanks
Harry: My blunt Indie
Indie: I’m not yours.
Harry: haha you’re so curt is even funny
Indie: I’m sorry I didn’t text you back before. I’ve been with my friends all day.
Harry: No problem.
Harry: What are you doing now?
Indie: We’re just hanging at my house
Harry: Would you like to have a drink?
Indie: All of us?
Harry: I mean it’s you I want to see but they can come too
“Aw, he’s adorable!”
When I lift my head from my phone, I see my three friends are behind me reading my texts. I blush and bring my phone to my chest covering the screen.
“Guys, you’re the worst!”
Jason stands up and walks towards my room. He comes back with his shoes on his hands.
“Tell him we’re coming and ask him for the location.”
“Yay!” Marie throws her head back. “Indie, do you have lipstick?”
“But you bite your lips a lot and stain your teeth!” Olivia reminds her.
“But what if Harry has a cute friend? Or what if the waiter is cute?”
Jason rolls his eyes and Olivia and Marie disappear on my bathroom in the search for my lipsticks.
“Are you sure you want to go?” I ask him.
“Damn right.” Jason smiles. “It’d only do me good.” He shrugs. “Plus we can’t leave your man like that.”
“Harry’s not my man.”
“Whatever.” He chuckles.
Indie: Where are you?
Harry: Cahoot
The pub is dark like the ones Jason likes and there’s quite a lot of people inside but it’s not suffocating. I spot Harry straight away. He’s leaning his elbow on the bar and is talking to Mario who gives us his back. I look at Ollie and find her talking to Marie and doing a scan of the bar, surely looking for possible prince charming for the brunette.
I wonder how I’m going to greet Harry. Should I give him a hug? Or a kiss? Or shake hands? His grin widens when he sees me as I reach him in the bar.
“Hello, Indie.”
I smile back. Okay so no hug, no kiss, no handshake.
“Hi there, Indie!” Mario seems happier to see me than Harry himself.
“Hi, Mario. How are you?”
“I’m good, good.” He smiles. “How are you?”
“I’m good too. Are you guys alone?”
Jason greets them both and so do Marie and Ollie. I notice the way Mario’s hand rests on Ollie’s lower back as he presses a kiss on her cheek but my friend looks away.
“No.” Mario shakes his head. “We’re on that table there. There’s a bunch of people from the hospital. You might know some of them.”
My eyes widen as I look at Harry. He knows I don’t want people to know we’re sleeping together in Uni but he just shakes his head and frowns as if dismissing Mario’s words. The Golden Girls order our drinks before we join them on the booths they have taken on a corner of the pub.
Harry’s got an empty spot beside him and I wonder whether he did that on purpose or whether it just was there because after his greeting I doubt he even wants to sit down next to me. I also notice, even from afar, the beautiful blonde sitting next to him. She’s everything I’m not. She’s thin, like, extremely thin actually, and her skin is paler than mine. She’s blonde but her hairstyle reminds me of my own, she has long opened bangs that skim her cheekbones just like me and her face is just perfect. Yeah, that’s the way to describe her, perfect. Her lips are full and pink and her nose is small and delicate and her eyes are olive green.
Olivia motions to Marie for her to sit down next to Mario so she doesn’t have to but Marie refuses to and even though I don’t agree with whatever the hell it is she’s doing with him, I take that seat before they give a scene- and so I don’t have to sit down next to Harry too. I see him frown from the corner of my eye.
“Hello, I’m Rose.” She’s nice too.
“I’m Indie.” I tell her.
“Indie?” Her green eyes widen. “Where does it come from?”
“It’s… It’s a colour.” My face contorts in embarrassment. “My name’s Indigo Blue. And it’s my mum’s favourite colour. She’s a painter.”
“Wow!” Rose smiles. “That’s so cool.”
From the corner of my eye I see Harry smiling next to her. Olivia sat down next to Harry eventually but he isn’t paying any attention to her and he must be the first man to ever do that. Instead, his eyes are on me the entirety of the night.
We all talk about music and Mario seems interested in Extremoduro. I tell him about them and about my favourite Spanish artists and he asks me stuff and even gets his phone out to type down the songs I tell him. See? He’s such a nice guy. I widen my eyes at Olivia and point at him every time he says something cute but she just gives me warning looks and cuts the air in front of her throat threatening to kill me.
Marie wants to dance and she takes Ollie with her who’s dying to get out of the table anyway. Jason’s been chatting to another two guys about God knows what and Harry’s been mostly quiet even though as nosy as he is I suspect he’s been eavesdropping every conversation on the table. Rose’s chatted to him some too but she’s also been talking to another girl who’s sitting in front of me. I think her name is Cris.
My eyes meet Harry’s but I quickly look away and turn to Mario yet his brown eyes are set on Olivia as she dances. I look at my friends too before I give him a sympathetic smile.
“Olivia is…” I start.
“Incredible.” He cuts me off.
I smile. Yeah, that too. But I wasn’t going to say that.
“Where did you go when you guys had dinner?”
That seems like a good way to start coming around it. I normally wouldn’t be so meddling but alcohol removes my inhibitions like autumn takes the leaves of a tree. I rest my elbow on the table and then my cheek on my hand so I stop taking glances at Harry from the corner of my eye.
“We went to this Indian restaurant she suggested...” His brown eyes narrow as he thinks about the name. 
My blood freezes on my veins.
“The Siddharta?” I fear.
“Yeah!” He smiles. “That’s the one.”
“Oh.”
“You know it too?” He chuckles. “She seems to go there so much even the waiter knew her.”
“Jack?” I can’t believe her.
“Yes.” He looks at me as if we were very strange people. “You guys love Indian food, don’t you?”
“Yes, we do.” I try to hide how angry I am. “I’m gonna order another drink, you want one?”
“I’m fine, thank you. Do you want me to go with you?”
Stop being such a good guy! Olivia’s gonna hear me.
“No, that’s fine. Thanks.” I give him a smile.
I need another drink. Especially because I need to calm down before I yell at Olivia. I don’t know why it bothers me so much that he’s using Mario like that. Well, yes I know; because that’s not what you do to people and I don’t want my friends to be terrible people. My frown feels heavy as I wait for my Bulldog gin and tonic.
“That was an interesting seat choice.”
Harry’s voice makes my belly flip. I swallow at his proximity.
“Your greeting choice was also interesting.”
I shut my eyes internally but on the outside I just look away from him. Why am I such a bigmouth when I drink? When I look back at him, he’s grinning. He presses his body against mine and corners me against the bar.
“Did my girl want a especial greeting?”
“I’m not your girl.” I frown.
“Then why do you want a special greeting?” He’s still grinning.
“Because… Well, because, you said you wanted to see me so…”
“So?” I want to slap that stupid grin out of his face.
“So I was expecting…” I bring my hand to my forehead but mostly to protect my face from his because I’m desperate to kiss him. “Actually, I don’t know what I was expecting.”
“Well” He tacks a strand of hair behind my ear “I, on the other hand, can tell you I was expecting you to sit next to me.”
“You seemed busy.” I look away again.
What am I doing? I can’t be jealous. Wait, am I jealous? What the hell am I doing? I need to get out of here.
“I gotta go.”
But his fingers lift my chin and his lips press against mine. I drink from his mouth contently and my breath catches on my throat when I feel his tongue parting my lips. His hands snake around my waist and he pulls my body to him as we kiss and my hands find the back of his neck.
“Hello, baby.” He smiles against my lips.
He’s intoxicating.
“Hello.”
“You said you didn’t want people from the hospital to know.” He shrugs. “That’s why I didn’t kiss you.”
“No, yeah, you’re right. I am just drunk.”
I don’t know why I said that. I don’t mean that. I wanted that kiss and I would kiss him again, drunk or not. But I don’t want things between us to get… complicated.
“As lovely as usual.”
“I need to talk to Olivia.”
“Fine.”
He moves aside so I can walk away from him and towards my friends, already angry and anxious. When I reach them, they’re both dancing to some lame background song and of course they’re the centre of attention of a group of guys.
“Olivia” I grab her elbow and push her even farther away from Harry’s friends “why did you go to The Siddharta with Mario?”
Her pink cheeks confirm my suspicion. From the corner of my eyes, I can see Marie’s lips parting as she stares at Olivia too. I let her talk even though I know the answer. 
“It’s a good restaurant.”
“You don’t like Indian food.”
“I thought he might like it..”
“You went there to get Jack jealous?” She swallows and looks away from me. “Olivia! It’s been a year!”
“I saw him the other night.” She explains. “I… He was with her and they went to my dad’s jeweller’s. He did that on purpose.”
“And you played his game?”
“What did you want me to do, Indie? I just wanted to get back to him! And I was going to go out with Mario anyway. The only thing that changed was the place.” She shrugs.
“Is that why you keep leading him on? You said he had clumsy hands and that you didn’t like him and you went home with him last night. Do you just want him there so you can get your ex jealous?”
“Indie, this is none of your business.” She looks away from me but her lips are set on a thin line.
“Well someone has to tell you you’re acting like a bitch.”
“What? I’ve had enough, Indigo. Go fuck yourself or better be the canned vagina you are these days.”
Her words freeze me to the spot and I feel a hurricane unleashing on my chest until it reaches my throat. I can’t believe she just said that. She’s been doing this fuck-and-leave thing for a year now and not even once I’ve judged her and now she throws this at my face? Is that what she really thinks of me? Is that what Harry thinks too? Is that even what I am?
I walk away before she sees me crying, I won’t give her the satisfaction and I don’t stop walking until I’ve turn the corner. I left my jacket inside and it’s rather cold now but I’ll text Marie to grab it for me. 
I’ve never been punched on the throat but I reckon this is how it must feel like. It’s hard to breathe and I feel betrayed, beaten and dirty. I walk home. My tears keep rolling freely down my cheeks while my mind goes into a frenzy. 
Jason’s words resound in my mind “you’re not falling for Harry, are you?” No, of course, I’m not. We have nothing in common, other than Medicine, but that’s in no way reason enough and he’s nothing like what I... I’m not looking for that. Now or ever. 
And then it hits me why it bothered me to see him with that Rose girl. It wasn’t jealousy, it was just the fact that I’m not ready to be a canned vagine. I mean I thought I didn’t care at all that he would be with other girls and I don’t think I do but for him to be with other women and for me to see that are two different things. The fact that he called me and told me to come over even if he didn’t event plan on kissing me, then why the hell did he call me if he was with other girl? 
The thought that he might have wanted a threesome with Rose and me flahes through my mind like a falling star. He’s clearly into sex in a way I might not be ready for. He probably has done it before too and maybe that’s what he wants from me now. 
My head aches too and I feel it dull and full and suddenly I feel so tired and cold and I just want to cover my head with my blanket and cry myself to sleep. 
That’s what I do.
65 notes · View notes
icymalec · 7 years
Text
Lucky to be a Lightwood
Set during the end of 2b, when Alec and Magnus are going through troubles. Written for the alec appreciation 2017. Prompt: family. (Also on Ao3).
As much as Alec disliked having the pressure of his parents being at the institute, he couldn’t help but admit it did have its positives. The main one being that Max is around. He was even more thankful that his mother had come to visit with their marriage breaking down. It allowed him to see a different side to his mom. One that wasn’t trying to impress and please; instead one that was being open and honest. He felt for his brother, he really did. Having to be stuck in the middle of everything going on with their parents; it must be hard on him. It seems though that it has pushed Max into training harder and bettering himself. A double edged sword.
He watches as Izzy goes through some combat techniques with Max; a soft smile resting on his face. Max latches on to any and all information he is given, he listens to feedback and takes it on board eagerly. Watching his siblings Alec can almost forget about the heavy pain in his chest. He misses Magnus, more than anything. And he doesn’t know if there will ever be anything he can do to put things right between them. All he has is hope.
He wonders if all this will have any lasting impact on Max; if his future relationships will be affected by everything that is happening now. Firstly there’s Mom and dad’s marriage breakdown. Izzy’s method of keeping people at arm's length. Jace and his, to put it lightly, complicated relationship with Clary. And last of all the fight Alec’s in with Magnus. Yes they have all tried their hardest to shelter Max from it all, but he’s not blind and he’s certainly not stupid. It’s undeniable that being around these situations at such a young age changes you. Alec just hopes that Max learns that love is worth it, love is worth fighting for. He hopes that unlike him; Max doesn’t view emotions as something negative; that clouds your judgement. Or that it is not worth giving your heart to someone as all it does is destroy you. He hopes that Max can see the beauty in it; the way it can change you for the better.
He knows, he can feel it in his heart, that he’ll find his way back to Magnus. Somehow, someday. And all this pain will be justified. He’ll learn, grow and change for the better. Because that’s the effect being with Magnus has had on him; he makes Alec a better person. Happier, more comfortable in his own skin. Accepting of the person he truly is rather than trying to be what everyone else wants him to be. Truly living rather than existing and going through the motions as someone else’s ideal.
A gentle hand on his arm breaks him from his thoughts. “You’re all growing up so fast.” Alec turns to look at his mother; her gaze is fixed onto her to youngest.
“I know I mean just look at Max, he’s gone from this small, quiet, nerdy child to an amazing fighter.” Alec can’t help but to grin as he replies, the love for his siblings shining through. “And then there’s Izzy, bounced back stronger than everything after...you know...And even Jace has come so far from where he used to be. Yes he had natural talent, but he’s learnt to care and think about others; and to take responsibility for the consequences of his actions.”
“Don’t forget about yourself. I’m proud of all my children but I’m especially proud of your journey. The way you stopped letting others tell you what you should be and do, how you’ve followed your heart and grabbed on to happiness with both hands.”
Alec blushes and looks away, “thanks mom.” After a moment he manages to compose himself.
“We’re all proud of you too, you know that? We admire you for how you’ve coped all these years with dad...and how you’ve found strength to close that chapter of your life.”
“Oh Alec,” she has tears shining in her eyes as she pulls him into an embrace, rubbing his back. “It’s all of you that have given me this strength.” As she releases him she looks him in the eye, “and it was worth it, every shred of pain, because I got all of you.” She squeezes his shoulder affectionately. “I just don’t want any of what’s happened between your father and I to affect his relationship with any of you.”
“Trust me it’s not that which is making us more distant from him.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s never here, and when he is he doesn’t act like he cares all that much. It’s all just ‘the clave this’ ‘the clave that’, you know?”
“You all mean the world to your father, believe me he cares about nothing more.” She sighs, “I guess he just doesn’t know how to show it.”
At that point Izzy tells Max to have a break to drink some water; she then makes a beeline for them, hugging them each in turn. “Max looks likes he’s doing great,” Maryse comments.
“He is,” Izzy beams, “Although he could do with a bit more of a challenge, fancy helping out big brother?”
“I’d love to, just let me go get changed and I’ll see you back here in five,” he presses a kiss to each of their cheeks before going in pursuit of his training clothes.
“Thank you for taking Max under your wing; you’re doing a great job.” Their mom says.
“Thanks, he learns so quickly it’s almost scary! Although I’m sure there’s still a thing or to I could learn from you.” Izzy breaks eye contact nervously, “you know if you get time before you have to go again I would really like the chance to...”
“Isabelle,” Maryse cuts her daughter off, voice gentle, waiting for her to regain eye contact. “I would love to spar with you.” They both smile, “tomorrow morning work for you?”
“Yes, thank you. I look forward to it.” With one final hug they part ways, Izzy going back to Max to tell him that Alec would be joining him. She wasn’t quite expecting Max to be so excited about Alec helping, but then Max always had a quiet admiration for his oldest brother. Even if outwardly it seemed he preferred Jace, being more ‘fun’ to Alec’s seriousness.
Alec returns in sweatpants and tank top, eager to train with his siblings. “So, what’s the plan?” Unbeknownst to him Izzy and Max had already discussed teaming up against him, Izzy throws Alec a staff and within seconds of it entering his hands she is flying at him with her own, Max backing her up. Alec lets out a laugh as he fends off his siblings, showing off slightly to Max as he easily blocks and dodges Izzy’s attacks; years of fighting alongside her allowing him to judge her every move. After a few intense movements Alec changes things up a bit, catching Izzy off guard and sending her crashing backwards to the floor. Max joining her barely 30 seconds later.
Instead of being like Jace, taking a moment to be triumphant in victory, Alec helps both of them up.
“Good job guys, Izzy is a bit sloppy on her foot work so I took advantage of that, probably because she’s wearing sensible shoes for a change,” he winks at her, “and Max you just need to be a little more perceptive on your left side.”
Max nods his head showing that he understood. “Can we go one on one? Is that okay Izzy?”
Izzy smiles, “Sure, I’ll observe and give feedback.”
“What’s your weapon of choice Max?”
Max takes a moment to consider the options carefully, “sereph blade?”
“Okay,” Alec smiles warmly at his brother as Izzy hands them both their own sereph blade. Alec names his quickly, almost without thinking about it, it’s almost a second nature to him now. Which is why he finds it so interesting to watch as Max decides on a name for his. In the end he goes for Nakir.
Izzy watches with excitement and a keen eye as her two brother’s spa. She’d been in battle with Alec enough times to notice the exact moment he stopped going easy on Max, and even without holding back Max was able to match move for move. Without warning Max jumps into the air and twists around to come behind Alec, but years in the field fighting everything from demons to vampires had meant Alec would not be thwarted by such a manoeuvre, he rolls across the floor and springs back up almost instantly on the attack again. The sudden change in tempo catches Max off guard just enough to start slipping with his defence, and before Max knows what has happened, he’s on the other side of the floor face down.
“That was a bit much don’t you think Alec?”
“I had to do something to stop him winning. You’re a natural Max. In no time you’ll be a match for even Jace!”
“You really think so?”
“With enough training there’s no telling how good you’ll become.” Max is elated; almost the happiest Alec had ever seen his brother.
“Can we do some archery now? Everyone says that no one is better than you with a bow.” Alec blushes at the compliment, it meaning so much more coming from Max.
“I’d be honoured, Izzy you okay to set some targets up while I go through some tips with Max?”
“Sure.” Izzy watches her brothers fondly as she finishes setting up the last target, Max hanging off of every word, Alec alight with passion as he talks about the weapon. It doesn’t take long for Max to improve his aim, but he still lacks the level of discipline Alec has. Max isn’t disheartened though, he knows that it takes a lot more dedication than he had to be anywhere near as good as Alec. And that was okay, because he had his sights set on other weaponry. He’s just happy to have Alec there to give him pointers to help him with the weapon he struggles with the most.
With training over Alec has a shower and changes, what he’s not expecting is for Izzy to be waiting on his bed for him. He raises a quizzical eyebrow at her, waiting for an explanation. “I’ve ordered pizza for us, thought we could eat together, catch up?” She scoots over on the bed, opening the pizza box and leaving plenty of room for Alec to join her.
“O..kay... Why do I feel like you have another motive?”
“Can I not just enjoy pizza with my big brother?” The look he gives her is the only answer she needs. With a sigh she gives in. “I know that things are rough with you and Magnus at the moment and thought you could use the company, and you know if you wanted to talk about anything I’m here for you.”
He takes a seat on the bed, “thanks Iz.” As much as he hates talking about things, he knows that he can’t keep bottling things up. He doesn’t discuss much with Izzy, just enough to make himself feel a little lighter. Her words of assurance that things would work out, helping more than she could realise. As he drifts off to sleep that night there is one thought on his mind, he is lucky to have his family.
22 notes · View notes