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thatoneaspie · 3 years

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“It’s Been a Long, Long Time”

An Avengers: Endgame AU

By thatoneaspie

| Synopsis: A change in the events of Endgame impact Vision’s fate and alter his most iconic line in the MCU. TW: Pregnancy, death, PTSD, graphic/ traumatic birth scene. |

————————————————————————

Pepper’s mouth drops open. “How the hell did you pull that off?”

“Look, I created a new element to keep myself alive. Pretty easy to recreate anything after that - even the mind stone.”

“And he has all his memories?”

“Yes. All of them. I’ve already told you this.” Tony says in a hushed whisper.

“Tony. You have to tell her.”

“I can’t. It’ll send her into early labor.”

“Well, you can’t just keep it from her! You have the love of her life - who she thinks is dead - in your basement...”

Pepper is cut off by Wanda, who strolls into the room, holding a cup of tea in one hand, and her other on her belly. “What’s in your basement?” Wanda says, stirring her tea with her powers.

“Nothing.” Says Tony quickly, rushing over to her. “Let’s have you sit down...”

Wanda rolls her eyes. “Tony. I’m pregnant, not crippled.”

“Right, not crippled. Just stubborn as hell.” Tony quips back.

The large room in the Stark Mansion, once filled with Avengers, feels strangely empty as always. It’s been almost 9 months since Thanos’ snap, and the blip left only Pepper, Tony, and Wanda on the team. Given that Wanda was injured after the fight with Thanos, Pepper insisted that she stay with her and Tony, so they could help her through her pregnancy and delivery; given that she had mostly been on bed rest for almost the entirety of it.

Wanda looks a bit flushed, and eyes the couch. She considers her pride of just saying she didn’t need to be coddled, and her actual need to sit down. The latter is victorious, and she sinks into the cushions with a satisfied expression.

“I still can’t believe you went to fight Thanos with us and you were pregnant.” Tony says.

“No one on the team would have let me fight if I had said anything,” Wanda says nonchalantly. “And, I didn’t know for sure if it had worked, anyway. I’m fine.”

“The internal bleeding said otherwise.”

Wanda glares at him, and her eyes begin to glow red. After a moment, her expression softens, and becomes distracted. She turns her head away, so Tony and Pepper wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.

“At least I got to say goodbye to my husband.”

Tony and Pepper shoot each other a quick look, which isn’t unnoticed by Wanda. “What was that about?” Wanda asks, her eyes narrowing.

Tony sighs. “Wanda, I need you to come with me to the basement.”

————————————————————————

Wanda wasn’t as fast on her feet as she used to be, so it took them awhile to get down the stairs.

“Alright, buddy... you can come on out.”

“Who are you——” Wanda began.

But then, she saw him.

Almost like a dream, he materialized. The familiar red, blue, and silver face, the chest that she had fallen asleep on so many times, and the uniform that she always argued needed changes, but secretly loved all the same.

“Vizh?” She whispered, walking up to him like a scared puppy; not sure what was really in front of her, and not wanting it to hurt again.

“Wanda.” Vision gently takes her hand, and puts it in the middle of his forehead, on the glowing mind stone. In a moment that’s just their own, he whispers to Wanda the words that they cherished together; a greeting during their stolen moments in the beginning of their relationship - “It’s been a long, long time.”

“It really is you.” Wanda began to shake, and then sobs so strong wracked her body that no sound came out of her mouth. Vision cradles her in his arms and pets the back of her hair.

After a moment, Wanda abruptly pulls away, and finds Tony in the room. Her eyes are on fire - she hadn’t been this angry since Thanos had killed her husband and made her watch. In that moment, Vision notices that her belly is swollen, and he blurts out: “Wanda, it worked...? Why didn’t you——-”

Wanda is too distracted to hear anything but the rage in her own mind. The red flares began to form in the palms of her hands. “How dare you keep him from me! How could you! I can’t believe you let me think he was dead, you son of a —-! ”

In that moment, she clutches her stomach as a liquid trickles down her leg. Her demeanor changes immediately; her green eyes show fear beyond belief. The red flares in her hands disappear as quickly as they came. Her voice comes out in a shaky whisper.

“My water just broke.”

Tony turns toward Pepper in triumph, his hands on his hips and a smirk on his face. “What did I tell you would happen?”

“God, Tony! What the hell is wrong with you? Now isn’t the time for this!” Pepper yells as Vision gently picks up Wanda and they all hurry their way back up the stairs.

———————————————————————-

“Vision, put her down over here.” Says Pepper, gesturing to what looks like a spare room. In reality, it’s set up as a birthing suite for Wanda; Pepper just didn’t think they would have to use it so soon, so it’s incomplete. Tony is pacing awkwardly outside, unsure what to do with himself.

“No. No, no... WAIT, no! Vision, don’t go... I can’t... it’s too early...” Wanda blurts out, hanging on to Vision with a death grip. She is hyperventilating.

Pepper quickly gathers everything she needs. “Vision, I need you to help me calm her down. The baby is already early, and we can’t have Wanda in distress at the same time. I need her to steady her breathing so I can check and see what’s going on.”

Vision nods and picks Wanda up again, and then situates himself on the bed with her laying back on this chest. He takes her into a firm and comforting hold while speaking to her gently.

“My love. Everything is alright. Let’s take some deep breaths together, okay?”

Wanda nods in silence, still shaking.

“Hoo. Hee. Hoo.”

“That’s it,” Vision says, “You’re doing great.”

“Vizh. It’s too early. I can’t...”

“You’re alright, Wanda. You’re alright. I’m here now.” Vision repeats to her.

“Good, Wanda. I need to check to see if the baby has grown enough to come now... if not, we will need to use drugs to stop your labor.”

“Allow me.” Vision says. He takes one hand and waves it over Wanda’s stomach, scanning what’s inside. Then, he projects the image onto the wall.

“Alright, well.” Pepper laughs lightly. “That was easy. Let’s see...” she studies the image for a moment. “Everything looks fine.”

Wanda tries to hide her fear, but comes out unsuccessful. “Are you... are you sure? I mean, maybe we should wait...?”

“Wanda, the baby wants to come now. It’s not always safe to use the drugs. We only do when it’s absolutely necessary. And, the baby looks just fine to me.”

“Oh.” Wanda whispers, unable to come up with another argument. She lays back in defeat on Vision’s chest, and grips his hand.

Vision understands immediately, and gives Pepper the “we need a moment alone” look.

Pepper is gone in an instant, and there is silence for a moment. All you can hear is Wanda’s shaky, mechanical breathing.

“You don’t have to say anything, Wanda. I already know what you’re thinking.”

Wanda laughs weakly, looking up at him. Her green eyes are pleading. “I thought we agreed not to use our mind-reading powers on each other.”

Vision smiles.

“I didn’t have to.”

He holds her belly and strokes her hair while she lays on him.

“I know you’re scared of loosing me again. And you want the baby to stay safe in there. But you don’t need to worry - I will always be with you, in life, and in death. I’m here now because that’s what was meant to be. I am here to meet our daughter with you.”

Wanda puts her hand to her mouth. “Daughter...? It’s a girl?”

Vision smiles.

“It’s a girl.”

————————————————————————

“Is there anything we can do to get this show on the road?” Wanda sighs.

Pepper shakes her head.

“Unfortunately, no. Given that you had bleeding at an early stage in your pregnancy, it wouldn’t be safe for you to use your powers to speed up your labor. So, we just have to hurry up and wait. You’re at 4 centimeters now.”

“You had what at an early stage?” Vision asks.

Pepper suddenly looks nervous. “Uh, I’ll leave you both alone. Seems like you have some things to... talk about.” She rushes out of the room.

Wanda rests her head on the middle of Vision’s chest. She knows he is waiting for her to speak.

“I’m sorry, okay... I should have told you. I should have told you my powers worked, and that I was able to get pregnant before I went out to fight Thanos.”

Vision has a blank look of anger on his face. “Should have? Wanda, you put our baby in danger when you didn’t have to——”

Wanda pushes herself off the bed into a standing position. “I did, Vizh! I did have to! You don’t understand!”

They’re both yelling now.

“And what exactly do I not understand?” Vision is standing, too, his feet hovering slightly above the ground.

“I couldn’t let Thanos kill you while I just sat around and did nothing! You are the love of my life, don’t you understand? That means I would do anything for you, Vision! Even if that means risking my own life, and our baby’s!”

Wanda is in hysterics, and she collapses on her knees. Vision makes his way toward her and holds her in his arms while she cries.

“Wanda, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. But you didn’t need to do that for me.”

Wanda holds him tightly. “I think I did. Thanos killed you, Vizh. And made me watch. You’ve only been back for a few hours.”

Silence. Her voice quivers. “I can’t lose you, Vision. Please. Not again.”

Vision’s heart feels like it’s broken into a million pieces at the sound of her voice. She is fragile, weak, vulnerable, exhausted; nothing like he saw her last. For a synthezoid who had the vocabulary of the greatest scholars, it surprisingly took him a long time to think of just the right thing to say.

“Wanda... what is grief, if not love living on in others?”

Wanda looks up at him. He never seems to grow tired of those eyes.

“I may have been gone, but I live on in you, and this beautiful baby girl... I don’t know what the future holds... but I’m here now, and I’m here with you.” He cradles her face and wipes the tears away.

Wanda laughs weakly, and relaxes in understanding.

“Now,” Vision begins excitedly,

“Let’s talk names!”

————————————————————————-

“I just read all the books on pregnancy in my database. It looks like moving around is supposed to speed up the labor. And swaying is supposed to help with the pain.” Vision suggests to Wanda. He was sitting next to her on the bed, holding her hand, and wiping away the sweat on her forehead with a damp towel. The last contraction had been particularly painful.

“Alright, let’s try it. I’m getting tired of this.” The powerful Scarlet Witch was in rare form: she looked unbelievably exhausted.

Vision spots a radio in the corner of the room, and glides over to it after helping Wanda get on her feet. “It’s Been a Long, Long Time” by Harry James begins to play.

“Care to dance, m’lady?” Vision smiles, reaching out his hand.

Wanda laughs. “You really want to dance with me when I look like this? Like a balloon?”

“I will always want to dance with you, my love.”

She smiles and takes his outstretched offering, and he pulls her close. Wanda holds one hand of his tightly, and the other supports the small of her back as they sway to the lyrics.

“Kiss me once

Then, kiss me twice

Then, kiss me once again

It's been a long, long time

Haven't felt like this, my dear

Since can't remember when

It's been a long, long time

You'll never know

How many dreams I dream about you

Or just how empty they all seem without you

So, kiss me once

Then, kiss me twice

Kiss me once again

It's been a long, long time”

In that moment, through all the pain she had endured, Wanda finally felt that everything would be alright.

————————————————————————-

Tony passes the open door, and peers inside. Wanda is laying on the bed with Vision at her side, gripping his hand. She is breathing rhythmically to the tune of “We Will Rock You”.

“Hoo Hoo Hee. Hoo Hoo Hee. Hoo Hoo Hee.”

The contraction passes and Wanda sighs in relief, and falls back into the pillows. She turns her head and notices Tony at the door.

“Vizh, why don’t you go help Pepper outside?”

Vision notices Tony, and realizes what’s going on. He knows better than to argue with his wife, especially when she’s in labor. In an instant, he’s out of the room. Tony hesitantly strolls inside. He seems unsure of himself until Wanda pats the side of the bed, inviting him to come sit.

Tony didn’t notice how tired she looked before now. Her light red hair was frizzy, tied up in a bun atop her head, and sweat had caused ringlets to stick to the sides of her face, almost like a frame. The oversized grey nightgown, courtesy of Pepper, sticks out due to her swollen stomach.

“Look, Wanda... I’m sorry.”

She laughs, turning her head away and resting it on the pillow. “Never thought I’d hear those words from you, Stark.”

“I didn’t want you to go into early labor from shock. I was able to bring him back two months ago. I don’t think it’s something I can replicate again, though. To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to pull it off.” Says Tony, in a rare moment of showing his imperfections. “I finally told you today because Pepper has been begging me. She didn’t think you’d actually go into labor.”

Wanda turns back, and looks him in the eyes. “You did the right thing.” She says, “At least the baby is alright.”

Her body seizes up, and she yelps out loud. “Oh no... so close together... oh god!”

Tony panics instantly, yelling, “What do I do? What do I do??”

“Hold my hand, idiot!” Wanda screams at him, her face still scrunched up in concentration. She reaches blindly and grips Tony’s hand.

“Ahhh.... Wanda, think you can loosen the grip a bit?”

She glares at him. “Are you kidding me right now, Stark? Ooooh...—-!”

Vision and Pepper rush in at the sound of commotion. Pepper begins laughing hysterically at the expression of sheer panic on Tony’s face.

Tony holds up his own hand, still in a death vice from Wanda. “I believe this is yours, Vision? Time to take over, maybe?”

Vision smirks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I think you’re doing just fine, Tony.”

————————————————————————-

“8 centimeters, Wanda. Nearly there.” Pepper says, taking off her gloves and lowering the bottom of Wanda’s gown to rest on her legs.

“Oh, wow...” Vision begins.

“Just hitting you?” Wanda laughs.

“How am I going to be a father? What if I mess up the kid? Oh no, I can’t do this...”

Wanda watches him begin to spiral, and takes his hand, laughing lightly. “Breathe, Vizh. Just breathe. Like this - ‘hoo hoo hoo hee’.”

He nods, so panicked that he is unaware of the joke.

“Hoo hoo hoo hee. Hoo hoo hoo hee.”

He gets it after a moment, then laughs, seemingly calmed down.

“If our baby girl is even just a little like you,” Wanda smiles, holding his face in her hands,

“then I think she will be just fine. So there’s no need to worry, Vizh.”

————————————————————————-

“Oooh. Oh, god. No. Please...”

“Wanda, just keep breathing. Not too much longer now.” Vision says, trying to calm her down.

“What the hell does it look like I’m doing?”

Pepper and Vision were kneeling on the ground next to Wanda, whose contractions wouldn’t allow her to stand up and walk a few paces to the bed. Vision offered to carry her, but she flinched at any touch besides the welcome holding of her hand. She had been in labor for over a day now.

Wanda’s grip on Vision’s hand tightened again for what felt like the millionth contraction. She had been a trooper so far, but this time, she screamed bloody murder.

“Vizh! Help me! PLEASE!” She begged, tears running down her face, and her free hand making its way to between her legs.

“The head! Oh god, Vizh. The head is right there—-!”

Pepper tries to calm her down, but nothing is working. “Wanda, you’re alright. It’s alright. Can you let me see what’s going on? Maybe we can get you to the bed now——-”

“NO! Don’t touch me! Just make it stop!”

“Wanda.” Vision’s voice became as gentle as a bee landing on a wild flower. “Let me feel. I won’t hurt you. I will never hurt you. Please let me help you.”

Wanda had always been stubborn, especially now; only Vision had the ability to get her to comply. Vision slowly moved her hand away from between her legs, and put his hand in its place. “Good. That’s it, my love. This won’t hurt, okay?”

The delicate skin around is stretching and there is, in fact, a small head emerging from between Wanda’s legs. He can feel the thick hair on his daughter’s head. “No wonder she is in pain,” Vision thinks to himself, “looks like the head is bigger than the average newborn’s. Even if it wasn’t, this must hurt like... what do the humans say? Like hell.”

Vision nods at Pepper to let her know that the baby is crowning. “Wanda, you’re almost at the end now.” Pepper says, taking her hand, and supporting her back. “When you have another contraction, you need to push as hard as you can, alright?”

“No. I’m done. We’re doing this another day.”

Pepper tries not to laugh at Wanda’s defiance. “I wish I could say it worked like that.”

Before another protest could make its way out of her mouth, Wanda’s body seized in another contraction, and she fell back onto Pepper, who continued to support her back. Pepper took both Wanda’s hands and let her squeeze them as hard as she needed. Vision gently opened Wanda’s legs as she laid back on Pepper. Once Wanda was in the right position, and she began to push as hard as she could. Vision’s hand stayed gingerly on his daughter’s head, guiding her into the world.

————————————————————————-

“It’s not working!” Wanda screams. “The baby won’t come out! Get it OUT!”

“Breathe, my love. Breathe.” Vision soothes her.

“Vision, this is going to sound silly, but there’s olive oil in the kitchen...” Pepper begins, but she doesn’t need to finish, because Vision has already sped back with it in his hands in less than half a second. You can hear Tony in the other room: “Not the good bottle!”

Pepper yells back: “Tony, be quiet! And get in here! We need help!”

Tony enters the scene: Wanda is laying back, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat, held by his wife behind her. Vision is at her end. Her legs are spread open and Vision seems to be waiting for instructions. Tony holds one of Wanda’s legs so Vision has another free hand to work. He refuses to watch the actual birth, and isn’t sure where to place his gaze, which just shifts nervously around the room every few seconds.

“Okay, Vision. Just gently rub the oil around the baby’s head... it should help it slip out easier. Wanda, I’ve got you... Vision is going to be gentle, alright? This will help. I promise. Let’s breathe together. Don’t think about what Vision is doing... just focus on breathing... that’s it.” Wanda follows Pepper’s instructions and starts her rhythmic breathing and grips Pepper’s hand. She winces at Vision’s touch; the area already feels as if it’s on fire.

“That’s it, Wanda. That’s it. Just keep breathing with me. I’ve got you.” Pepper says to her in a voice so gentle it could have been from an angel. She strokes the top of Wanda’s head comfortingly.

“Here’s another contraction now in a minute... push as hard as you can, okay? And you can scream as loud as you need to.” Pepper’s timing is immaculate: Wanda bears down again, and screams with the sensation of the baby’s head leaving her body.

“Okay, Wanda. The head is out.” Pepper says, watching Vision’s hand cradle it gently from her view above. Then, Pepper sees something, and her heart drops in her chest.

“Wait. Wanda. Don’t push.”

“What?” Wanda says, completely out of breath. “You’ve been telling me to push this whole time—-”

“Listen to me. Do NOT push. Vision, the chord. It’s wrapped around the baby’s neck.”

And then he saw it: how could he have missed it before? A thick chord, wrapped around the neck of his sweet baby girl.

Wanda immediately starts to panic. “No. No. This isn’t happening—-! You said the baby was fine, Pepper!”

“It was fine... these things happen sometimes during a vaginal birth on the way out. Vision, I need you to listen to me - I’m going to tell you what you need to do, okay? Wanda, this is going to hurt, so I need you to just keep breathing in and out.”

Pepper’s sudden command of the room and calm in an emergency made Vision and Wanda feel a bit more at ease.

“Alright, Vision. You’re going to need to push back the skin around the head and detangle the chord. Wanda’s already pretty stretched out, so there might be a tear, but we have no other choice.”

“A tear—-?” Wanda began, but was cut short by Vision following the instructions he was given. Her face contorted into one or insufferable pain; it mirrored her reaction when Pietro fell for a final time - a scream so visceral that no sound came out.

“Wanda. Push now. We need to get her out immediately.” Pepper tells her. Wanda’s head falls back onto Pepper’s shoulder in exhaustion. The sweat gleans on her forehead.

“I.... I can’t.”

“You have to, Wanda. Please.”

Wanda had never heard Vision so emotional; never had he pleaded with her for anything. This brought her the rest of her strength for one final push.

The baby was out.

But, she was not crying.

————————————————————————-

“Why isn’t she crying? What’s going on...?” Wanda cried, but it was too late.

Her baby girl had no heartbeat, no pulse.

She was gone.

What happened next, Wanda could not have predicted in a thousand lifetimes.

Vision put his hand to the small girl’s chest, and her color began to return. As it did, Vision grew more and more pale, and the glow emitting from the Mind Stone began to dim. He swayed back and forth, gently singing to his newborn daughter.

“Haven’t felt like this, my dear

Since can’t remember when

It’s been a long, long time...”

In that moment, he finally understood why Wanda had done what she had...

as the ultimate act of love was sacrifice.

“Take good care of your mama for me.” Vision whispered, before using the last of his energy to gently set the now sleeping baby into Tony’s arms.

“NO.... VISION! NO —— !”

Vision collapsed, looking peaceful, as if he was taking a long slumber.

Wanda screamed, and did not stop, hoping that somehow, her grief would bring him back. Pepper held tightly to Wanda as she thrashed around. In Tony’s arms, the sleepy baby girl was reaching for her father, who had already journeyed into the great beyond.

But, Vision wasn’t really gone...

as he would live on in her, for a long, long time.

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glassc0ffin · 5 years

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hee hoo i wrote a tma fic in the form of frankies statement to the institute

words: 2245

warnings: none, except for phil collins and thrown staples

pairing: oc (frankie james)/jonathan sims

[[MORE]]

FRANKIE JAMES:

-That a tape recorder? It's so cute! We've been trying to get one for the station, just so we can say we have one - y'know, to impress the hipsters - but they're well out of my budget. How did you get one?

ARCHIVIST:

I - Uh, it was here when I got the job, it was my predecessor's.

JAMES:

Wow, well, I'm jealous. [GIGGLES] A little tempted for thievery…

ARCHIVIST:

...Right. Would you like to begin your statement?

JAMES:

Oh, yeah, of course.

ARCHIVIST:

Alright. Statement of Frank James, radio DJ at -

JAMES:

Frankie.

ARCHIVIST:

[PAUSE] Frankie James, radio DJ at Tranzishon Rock, London, regarding…?

JAMES:

Uh, a series of...obscene phone calls from an unknown person.

ARCHIVIST:

Recorded direct from subject by Jonathan Sims, head archivist of The Magnus Institute, 21st of September, 2019. Statement begins.

JAMES:

Ah, so, okay. [SIGHS]

ARCHIVIST:

...Are you alright?

JAMES:

Yeah, I just… [SIGHS] I have a hard time...getting words out. I'm not...articulate.

ARCHIVIST:

Would I be able to help?

JAMES:

How would you? It's in my head.

ARCHIVIST:

[SIGHS] You'd be surprised. [PAUSES] When did it start? The phone calls.

JAMES:

On my show. I have a radio show at Tranzishon, late nights, 7 till 10, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Towards the end of the show, from 9 till 10, we do a requests hour. Listeners call, or text, or tweet, or send a carrier pigeon, to ask us to play songs. The last one is only if they're fancy.

ARCHIVIST:

[SNORTS]

JAMES:

[PAUSES]

ARCHIVIST:

[PAUSES] Sorry. You were saying?

JAMES:

[LAUGHS FAINTLY, A LITTLE BREATHLESS] Ah, yeah, erm… [AMUSED] I can't quite remember where I was…

ARCHIVIST:

The requests hour?

JAMES:

Yes! Okay, so, er, I was announcing the requests hour, reading out our phone number and the twitter account, and as soon as I had finished reading the phone number, we got a call. I- We've got a small team of techies - well, two - that handle incoming calls, texts, tweets, whatever. One, Paul, looked up from the switchboard at me and put me through to the listener, and I did my usual spiel. Y'know: [RADIO VOICE] You're listening to Frankie at Tranzishon rock, dear listener, what's your request?

[NORMAL VOICE] And they didn't say anything. There was dead air for a couple of seconds, then as I began to say 'Anybody there?' my headphones are blown out by the sudden high volume. The person on the other end must have been right up on the mic, because there was an immense amount of feedback and white noise. I'm sort of thankful for that, 'cause it nearly covered up what they had to say.

[PAUSES] [DEEP BREATH] I... don't want to repeat what they said. Suffice to say, the techies had some lightning speed reaction time when they cut off the line. There was more dead air as I tried to recover from the shock, I think I made a joke about them wanting the number for Babestation instead.

ARCHIVIST:

[LAUGHS]

JAMES:

[PAUSES] [LAUGHS, WEAKLY] Yeah… Ah, so, w-we banned that number so they wouldn't call again, and I ended the show with Pretty Fly (For a White Guy) by The Offspring. Because I cope with bad experiences by burying them with humour.

[UNDER HIS BREATH] Give it to me, baby. [EVEN QUIETER] Uh huh, uh huh.

[COUGHS]

Uh. Anyway. I went home, had my day off, and went back into work the next night and tried to forget about what happened. And for the most part, I did. The first 2 hours passed without incident, and then when I announced the requests hour, I joked about the caller the other day. My techies looked at each other nervously as I laughed. I gave them a questioning look, but said nothing. I'd ask them after the show. I read the number and twitter and waited for the requests to roll in. Again, we had another phone call straight away. I said my spiel, and my heart was in my throat as I waited for the caller to speak. I looked at my techies. Sheena, my other tech, shrugged at me. I sighed, about to give them a signal to cut them off and answer someone else when the feedback returned, louder and more harsh this time. I threw my headphones onto the desk in front of me, but I still heard the words spilling out of them.

[SWALLOWS] Y'know that scene in Silence of the Lambs? Where Lecter asks Clarice to repeat what that other inmate had said to her? Y'know - [SOUTHERN AMERICAN ACCENT] 'He said, I can smell your cunt.'

ARCHIVIST:

Good lord.

JAMES:

Yeah. It was a bit like that. There was a lot more...squelching with mine, though. Ugh. The techs cut the call, as I knew they would. I was more than a little pissed off. I started playing a song someone had tweeted and turned off my mic, turning to my techies. I asked them, why didn't you ban them like you said you would last time? Sheena said she did, that she guessed they were using a payphone or something to harass us. Paul tentatively asked if we should inform the police, and I told him to F off. We've had no help from coppers in the past when we had Nazis and TERFs flooding our lines calling us all sorts of shit, why would they help now? Cops avoid gays like the plague unless its for propaganda. So, Paul backed down.

Before the song ended, I quickly mentioned that maybe we shouldn't take calls anymore, just texts and tweets. I didn't want it to come to that, not really. I ended the show again with a song from a small local band, earning me a shoutout on their twitter. That felt good, at least.

I went home, picking up a 6-pack of Stella on the way. I wanted to make sure I slept that night. As I sat on the tube, a good 20 minute journey to my flat, my phone began to ring. At that moment, it didn't strike me that it shouldn't have been able to get any reception underground, yet there it was, ringing in my hand. I was more annoyed at it interrupting my music, but I answered anyway. It was the same fucking caller. I couldn't hit the 'disconnect' button fast enough. But I still heard what he said. [LAUGHS SHAKILY] At least the guy has some imagination. Never the same thing twice. [VOICE BREAKS, STUTTERING] I looked around the tube to see if anyone would be witnessing my quickly approaching panic attack, and finding no-one in the compartment with me, I broke down. The next 15 minutes passed with a blur, and then I reached my station, tears stopping as fast as they had came.

I stepped off the tube and started walking in the direction towards my flat, and my phone started ringing again. My breath caught in my chest as I froze on the pavement, phone vibrating away in my pocket. I picked it up, screen lit up and facing toward the ground. Slowly, I turned it up, half shutting my eyes, as if the person on the other end wouldn't be able to see me if I couldn't see the phone. [SIGHS] Stupid. It was my mum's phone number. I answered, talked with her for a little bit - she lives a ways away, I don't get to see her a lot - and said goodnight when I got to my flat. I got blackout and passed out on my couch when I got in. Yeah, I know I'm a lightweight. When I woke up at 12pm, my TV was still on, replaying the DVD menu for Black Christmas - the 1974 version. I guess in my Stella-crazed state I was desperate to watch it again.

The entire day, I left my phone switched off. My boss won't be too pleased with me, especially after 2 shows of mine had very explicit profanity, thanks to our mystery caller, but I didn't care.

[PAUSES]

Listen, I-I know, alright? I know it sounds stupid, I know I probably sound like a pearl-clutching housewife, how scandalous that I'm terrified of a few dirty phonecalls, but...you didn't hear them. You wouldn't want to hear them. Paul, Sheena, and I certainly didn't. At least they only heard them at the station…

Thankfully, on the Friday, we had decided not to do requests hour. Yeah, a few listeners would be upset, but the more loyal listeners would understand when one person ruins it for everyone else. We just settled for the last hour of the show to be requests from Paul and Sheena. Strangely enlightening, but I don't wish to hear any more Phil Collins than is necessary. And with Paul, he seems to think 10 songs is necessary. It isn't.

ARCHIVIST:

[OFFENDED] What's wrong with Phil Collins?

JAMES:

Apart from the fact that we're a punk rock station?

ARCHIVIST:

Fair enough. You were saying?

JAMES:

Okay, so, ah… I was on my way home again, and had all but forgotten the mystery caller. We'd figured it had just been some weirdo that got bored of us cutting him off. But as I was walking from the tube station from my flat, I heard that ear-splitting feedback again. Doubling over in pain, I reached up to pull my headphones off, only to find that I had left them at the radio station. I pressed my fists to my ears, crumpling to the ground as the whine of someone being too close to a microphone pierced my eardrums. I felt something cold trickle out of my ear. I didn't have to check my hand to guess that it was blood. I hyperventilated as I lay on the ground. Something was shouting, screaming at me, screeching slurs and threats of what it wanted to do to me, what it will do to me. I remember vomiting, and then blacking out as the overlapping cacophony reached a fever pitch.

I woke up not too far from where I had passed out, £10 and a phone lighter. It was probably some homeless guy who took them, and honestly, I'm not too bothered. I'm more angry no-one took me to a doctor or something. I think, the last thing I saw before I passed out was someone standing in the distance. Staring. Yeah, it could have been some rando, but the image stuck with me.

They were silhouetted against the bright signs of the takeaways on the street behind them, hands stretching too far down, a little too tall. I might have been delusional or in the throes of oxygen deprivation or something, but I swear I saw it smile as I lost consciousness.

I haven't been back to my flat. I've been staying with Sheena for the past couple of days. She's alright, but I can tell she wants me out. She doesn't want what's happening to me to happen to her.

ARCHIVIST:

Statement ends. ...Are you alright?

JAMES:

[SNIFFS] Er, I - Uh, I should be, in a bit. Thanks for, uh...I don't know. Listening?

ARCHIVIST:

It's my job.

JAMES:

Is that it then? What happens now?

ARCHIVIST:

We'll get in contact with you if we find anything out.

JAMES:

Oh! Then, you'll probably need this then. [SCRIBBLING]

ARCHIVIST:

[SHOCKED NOISE] Wh- What are you doing?

JAMES:

Giving you my phone number, what's it look like?

ARCHIVIST:

Well, I'm sure you can give it to me on paper, not my hand! And didn't you say your phone was stolen?

JAMES:

[SCRIBBLING STOPS] Oh. Yeah. Well, if I ever get it back, then. You know where to call.

ARCHIVIST:

R-Right. Goodbye, Mr. James.

JAMES:

Frankie.

ARCHIVIST:

...Goodbye, Frankie.

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST:

Mr. James -- Frankie's behaviour was certainly... strange during our conversation. He kept looking at me, pausing and then quickly looking away again, having to restart his sentence whenever he did so. Maybe he realised that he had virtually no evidence to back up his testimony. The only witnesses we have are this Sheena and Paul, and they can only back up the instances of the phone calls happening at the radio station, not anywhere else. Conveniently, Frankie does not appear to record his mobile phone calls, so we have no evidence the phone call on the tube happened. Assuming it even could happen.

Furthermore, his constant stuttering only made me think he was making the whole thing up. Maybe he just wants a story for his show. He --

TIM:

Knock, knock. Was that Frankie James?

ARCHIVIST:

Yes, i-it was -- Tim, saying 'Knock, knock' is not a good substitute for knocking.

TIM:

Did I hear you saying that he was making it up because he was stuttering?

ARCHIVIST:

Well, yes. It's a common tell for lying.

TIM:

It's a common tell for a huge goddamn crush.

ARCHIVIST:

What?

TIM:

Oh, come on. You didn't notice?

ARCHIVIST:

No, n-no, I didn't.

TIM:

Jon, he was the colour of a tomato. He wrote his phone number on your hand! Look, he even drew a heart, for god's sake.

ARCHIVIST:

[MUTTERING] Hmm, yes, I suppose it does look like a heart… No, don't be ridiculous, Tim.

TIM:

[IN A SING-SONG VOICE] Jon has got a boyfriend, Jon has got a boyfriend!

ARCHIVIST:

Are you twelve?! Get out! [SOMETHING CLATTERS ON THE GROUND]

TIM:

Ow! Stop throwing staples at me!

[CRASHING SOUND]

[CLICK]

#fics #my writing #frankie #📖#owo i love him..

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