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nickelkeep · 4 years

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Together We’re Golden

Pairing: Dean/Cas Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: De-Aged!Sam Written For: nickel’s storytime On Ao3

Witches. It was always fucking witches. Dean knew as well as anyone that not all witches were bad. The natural-born ones? They were usually cool. They often weren't power-hungry, cause they already had their magic. But those who made deals with demons? They were assholes, one-hundred percent.

And of course, the case Sam found? One of those. It had started simple, putting a pox on the competition for a promotion at work. Then they won a vast sweepstake. But, as it always inevitably does with those who got their magic from demons, things went South. Someone was nosy, a hunter went in, and boom. A dead body that the coroner was trying to explain.

And it was why Dean was cavorting around an abandoned warehouse, Sam and Cas somewhere in there as well, looking for the bastard... bastardess? Whatever this witch was, they were a bitch, and Dean had the witch-killing bullets to stop them from causing more harm.

As he rounded the corner, listening quietly for the sounds of anyone. Sam's moose-length gait was distinguishable anywhere, and even if Cas could sneak up on him, Dean could recognize the sound of the rubber heels hitting upon the linoleum in a distinct pattern.

He closed his eyes for a moment and made out the sound of Sam's footfall, the pause between each step due to the length of his legs. But before Dean could signal to his brother, the sound he had been waiting for occurred: the fast clip-clop of kitten heels, most likely sneaking up on Sam.

Dean jumped out from behind his cover and saw the witch sneaking up behind Sam. His movement caught Sam's attention, and Dean called to him as he raised his gun. "Get down!"

Sam ducked, just as the witch cried out. "Abi!" Dean took the brunt of the spell, as Sam unknowingly dodged it, and flew back, hitting a wall as he landed. Sam was knocked to his knees, and his gun skittered across the floor.

"Sammy! Move!" Dean cried to his brother as he tried to make his vision stop swimming.

"How cute. More hunters." The witch moved up to Sam, stepping on the back of his knee and pinning him in place. She placed her hand on his back and started to chant. "Adulta est tibi puer et vade."

Sam started to glow, and Dean shook his head, his vision still floating. Dean felt powerless as he tried to aim at the witch when she suddenly started to glow herself, golden rays of light emitting from her eyes.

Cas.

Her mouth opened in a soundless scream, more light pouring from her mouth as she collapsed to the ground. Cas quickly stepped over and moved to check on Sam.

"Cas!?" Dean pushed himself to a sitting position, cursing the hallway spinning around him. "Cas, is Sam okay?"

A small pathetic whimper was Dean's reply as Cas bent down and picked up a little boy into his arms. Dean's jaw dropped. It had easily been years since he'd seen that haircut, or that size for that matter, but there was no doubt. Cas had picked up a child Sam and was holding him in his arms.

"Sammy?" Dean pushed himself up to a kneeling position as Cas brought Sam closer, the young version clinging tightly to the angel.

"De!" Sammy whimpered into Cas' chest. He hid his face as Cas crouched down.

"Sam, can you please go to Dean, while I check on him, please?" Cas asked, his voice soft and calming. "Dean wants to know you're okay." Cas waited until Sam's feet were on the floor and let him go.

"De!" Sam ran from Cas' arms to Dean's, hugging him tightly. "De, scared."

"I know, Sammy. I know." Dean squeezed Sam gently as Cas pressed two fingers against his temple, relieving him of the concussion he got from the witch's blast. "Are you hurt? Does Cas need to heal anything?"

Sam shook his head against Dean's chest. "No."

"No, because you don't hurt, or no because Cas is scary?" Dean was fully aware of the bitchface Cas shot him at that comment.

"No owwie." Sam looked up at Cas, his big hazel eyes wet with tears. "Cas good."

"Of course Cas is good, Sammy." Dean looked at his brother, trying to hide his disbelief in seeing a toddler Sam again. "Cas is our friend, right?"

"Best friend!" Sam giggled through his tears, then pointed at Dean. "Boyfriend!"

Dean sputtered at Sam's exclamation before staring up at Cas. "Kids say the damnedest things, don't they?" He stood up and looked down at Sam, who was barely covered by the moose-sized shirt. "I know you just used your mojo on me, Buddy, but do you think you can do something about Sam's clothes? We need to get out of here, and we don't need Sam running around like this."

Cas smirked - why, Dean had no clue - and nodded. He walked back to where Sam had been cursed and grabbed the rest of the clothes. He handed them to Dean. "Put them on the ground the best you can, have him stand in them, and I'll shrink them to size."

"You're a genius, Cas." He adjusted Sam's clothes, and put a very squirmy Sam into them. "While I can hold him still, please."

Cas aimed his palm at Sam, and Dean watched in awe as the clothes shrunk to fit Sam. Even the shoes that had looked ridiculous on such a tiny body shrunk to fit Sam. "How you feel, Sammy?"

"Wanna go."

"Then we're gonna go." Dean held his arms down to Sam, offering to pick him up.

"CAS!" Sam pointed at the angel then ran over to him, reaching up to be lifted.

Cas shot a look at Dean, and while Dean couldn't clearly read it, he ventured to guess it was a look of concern. "Sammy trusts you, dude. If you want to pick him up, it's cool." Dean suppressed a laugh as Cas let out a sigh and bent down to pick up Sam. "Don't look like such a grump ass, Cas. How often will you ever say you got to pick up Sam?"

"I can pick him up at his regular size, Dean. I'm an angel." Cas commented, annoyance and sass clear in tone.

Dean pulled out his phone and snapped a picture. "Yeah, well, you don't get to do this every day."

"What was that for?" Cas squinted at Dean.

"I'm sending it to Rowena." Dean chuckled as Sam's head lifted up in surprise. "Sammy was hit by a spell, you killed the witch, the spell didn't lift. Means we're going to need another witch." Dean nodded towards the door and started moving as his phone rang. "Well, that didn't take long."

"Dean, did you and the angel adopt? I didn't realize hunters and the supernatural could go through that process." Rowena quipped as he answered the phone.

They approached the exit, and Dean pushed the door open, holding it for Cas. "You're so funny, Rowena. That's Sam." There was a long pause and Dean pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure that the call hadn't dropped. "Rowena?"

"I'm here, Dean. I was looking at the picture again, trying to figure out how something so small got so big." Rowena replied, and Dean couldn't help but laugh in agreement. "What happened to the giant?"

"We were tracking a witch, and she got the drop on him. Cas offed her, but not before she finished the incantation."

"I see. Such a dear, wee boy. Appears he was always a cutie."

Dean rolled his eyes as he sped up to move ahead of Cas, opening the rear passenger to Baby for him. "Yeah, heartthrob, nerd, all of it since a young age. Can you help?"

"Aye, I am the best. I can meet at the bunker in about five hours, maybe less. Need to get the things that may be necessary to help me reverse the spell."

"Thank you, Rowena. I know you don't have to do this, but we appreciate it."

Rowena laughed. "Aye, but 'tis nice to be owed a favor from a Winchester. Later, Dearie." The phone disconnected with a beep and Dean let out a sigh, wondering what kind of deal he had unknowingly made with the witch.

His attention drifted back to Cas and Sam, the latter still cling to the former, not willing to be separated. "You okay sitting in the back with Sam? If not, I'll be the bad cop."

"This is fine, Dean. Since we don't have a car seat, me sitting with him is for the best."

Dean nodded and closed the door for Cas, making sure to not catch the trench coat in the jamb. He took a look around and quickly moved to the driver's side, sliding in and pulling his door shut behind him. "Let's get going." Dean stole a glance at the backseat, watching as Cas took care to use the lap belt to secure Sam comfortably.

Dean started the Impala and pulled away, swallowing down the warm feeling that was threatening to swell in his chest. Sam had practically been his kid, despite there being less than a four-year age difference between them. Watching someone else - watching Cas - give that same TLC, the same comfort to Sam that he had done all those years ago was threatening to melt the layer of ice he put up as a barrier.

"De!" Sam called up, pulling Dean's eyes to the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, Sammy?"

Sam snuggled into Cas and smiled. "Hungy?"

"Hungry, dude." Dean replied, emphasizing on the gre sound. "You need something to eat, Sammy?"

"Yes!"

Dean stole a glance at Cas, who merely shrugged in return. "You did just go through a heck of an ordeal, huh? Let's get out of this town, and we'll stop at the next one, okay?"

"K!" Sam replied excitedly before looking up at Cas. "Hungy?"

"It appears you don't remember. I don't eat, Sam. But we'll make sure you get something good, okay?"

"De!" Dean looked back in the rearview and saw Sam pointing at him, but talking to Cas.

"Your brother will eat too, I'll make sure." Dean felt a blush rise up at that comment and forced his focus back on the road ahead of him.

Sam's voice dropped to a whisper. "De, yours."

Dean swore he heard a noise of surprise from Cas, but refused to look, feeling it better to pretend he didn't hear anything.

"Your brother doesn't belong to anyone, Sam. Least of all me. Rest, we'll be there soon."

Dean frowned. He'd never admit it aloud, but boy, Cas was wrong. So very wrong.

A half-hour later, and no less than fifty questions from Sam to Cas later, Dean pulled up in front of a diner. "Still hungry, Sammy?"

"Pancakes!" Sam squealed happily, grabbing Cas' hand to help him with the seatbelt.

"Dude, Cas, we never let him live this down." Dean looked over the backseat and smiled at Cas.

"Which part, Dean? The part where he's being cute, or the part where I know you're going to let him overeat breakfast foods?" Cas raised an eyebrow as he undid Sam's seatbelt.

"He's known his whole life how cute he is. Always used it to his damn advantage." Dean shook his head. "Hell, our old man used it to his advantage." He climbed out of the car and met Cas' eyes over Baby's roof. "He got us so much free shit. Lunches, dinners. Hell, one time, he got us a hotel room for two nights."

"I'm sure you could have done the same, Dean." Cas looked down at Sam and shushed him, as he was trying to rat Dean out for saying shit. "Yes, Dean said a bad word. Dean says a lot of bad words."

"Hey!" Dean called out at Cas as he took Sam's hand and headed into the diner. "I'm not that bad." He grumbled to himself as he followed in behind them.

Cas was already talking to a waitress, asking for a booster seat for Sam as Dean walked in. She led them back to a more secluded booth, handing the booster to Dean and winking at him as she walked away.

"Sam, go sit with Dean, please." Cas gently pushed Sam between the shoulder blades, and toddler Sam ran and hugged Dean's leg.

Dean couldn't help but smile, and he sat the seat down before assisting Sam to climb into it. Once he sat down himself, he looked across the table at Cas. "You know, I swear, I don't remember him being this talkative when he was younger."

"I think I may know why." Cas watched Sam carefully. "I'm fairly certain the spell reverted him to about two or three, but he still has all his memories, his knowledge is intact. Just at that age, he can't use them fully." He smiled at Sam. "He's an overly smart toddler."

A few moments later, a waitress introducing herself as Maggie walked up to their booth. "Well aren't you just the cutest! Having fun with your dads, kiddo?"

Dean looked up and saw the surprised look on Cas' face. It wasn't often the angel was caught unawares, and, despite the context, Dean was relishing in it. "Yeah, he was taking a nap, this is his first big road trip. He woke up and said he was hungry. Figured we could use a pitstop too." Dean bit his bottom lip, holding back a grunt as Cas kicked him in the shin.

"Aww, how sweet!" She pulled out her receipt pad and smiled at Sam. "What's your name, cutie?"

"Sammy!" He responded with a broad smile then pointed at Cas. "Cas!" Sam turned and pointed at Dean. "De!"

"Sounds like you're getting good at using your words, little guy!" Maggie scrunched up her nose playfully and waved with her finger. She turned to Cas. "What can I get you?"

"Just a coffee, black." Cas nodded, gesturing to Dean. "He'll order too much, per the normal."

"Dude, Cas. Rude." Dean looked at Maggie and smiled. "I saw you guys do pancakes with marshmallow fluff?" When Maggie nodded, he continued. "Can I get a short stack of those for my short stack here with some orange juice, I'll have the breakfast platter, scramble the eggs please."

"And to drink?" Maggie took the menus from Cas and Dean.

"Coffee, black."

Maggie finished writing and nodded. "You got it. It'll be up in a few."

Dean leaned back in the booth, waiting for the inevitable comment from Cas.

"Why didn't you correct her?"

There it was. "'Cause as happy and healthy as Sam looks, it's going to sound a little strange if we're anyone other than his dads." Dean threw back, neglecting to mention that he didn't mind the temporary mislabel. "Besides, Sammy didn't blow our cover at all, either. Like you said, he's a smart cookie."

"While that makes sense, Sam is not actually a child." Cas huffed as he sat back in his seat.

"Don't be like that, Cas." Dean nodded at Maggie as she brought them their drinks. He jabbed a straw into Sam's cup and slid it to him, almost laughing as he watched Sam try to remember how to use a straw. "Besides, you're good with him."

"It's Sam." Cas retorted.

Dean shook his head. "It's toddler Sam and completely different." He held his hand over his mug before lifting it to his lips and taking a sip. "Despite how you know Sam now, that's not how he was when he was a kid."

"That was almost thirty years ago, Dean. Do you remember it clearly?" Cas raised his eyebrow.

"I raised him, Cas. I remember his first word, his first sentence. I remember his first hair cut that I botched, cause the old man couldn't be bothered to take us to get it cut." Dean sighed angrily, upset that Cas would doubt him. "I'm the one who took him from crawling to walking to running."

"Dean, I–" Cas was interrupted by Maggie returning with Dean and Sam's food. Once she left after asking if everything was okay, Cas let out his own sigh and dragged his hand down his face. "I'm sorry, Dean. You're right."

"I know I am, and I know you're doing a good job with him." Dean finished cutting up Sam's pancakes and handed the fork to his younger brother. "If you can't finish them, Sam, don't force it. I'll get you a box."

Sam cooed happily and shoved a piece of pancake into his mouth. Dean found that he couldn't help himself and pulled out his phone, taking a picture of Sam.

"He's going to kill you." Cas commented before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Worth it." Dean looked at Cas and winked as he took another picture of Sam. "I'll get this one made into a pillow, and we can throw it on a chair in the library."

"I'm not going to hell to retrieve your soul again when he does." Cas shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You're no fun, Cas." Dean pouted before putting his phone away.

A couple cups of coffee, several wet naps, and a box later, Sam was yawning loudly in his booster seat, barely able to stay upright. Maggie came by with the check, dropping it off and making sure to remind Sam how cute he was.

Dean tossed the keys to the Impala to Cas before standing up and picking Sam up. He carefully passed Sam over to Cas, his heart pounding a mile a minute as Sam snuggled against Cas. "Get him comfy. I'll be out in a minute after I pay this." Dean tried to tear his eyes away from Cas as he walked away, but it wasn't until Cas exited the diner that he found himself able to move.

He walked up to the register where Maggie was leaning, talking to the cashier. She stood up as Dean approached and smiled at him. "Thank you guys for stopping this evening. You all really made our night."

"We what?" Dean felt his face twist into a confused look.

"First, Sammy is adorable. He's so sweet, so well-behaved, and he clearly loves his daddies." The cashier next to Maggie nodded. "And then, watching you and your husband? We've seen a lot of couples and families come in, but the love between you two?" She looked at the cashier, and placed her hand on her heart. "You two gave us all a slice of happiness tonight."

"Uh, thanks. I think." Dean took his card back from the cashier and nodded.

"If you're ever in the area, stop on in again!" Maggie called after him as he walked towards the exit.

Dean crossed to Baby and slid into the driver seat. He stole a glance to his right, his heart beating a tattoo as he realized that Cas wasn't wearing his trench coat. Surprised, he looked in the back seat and saw Sam curled up under it, softly snoring.

"Don't worry, he still has the lap belt on, but he couldn't stay upright. I was afraid that I would move too much and keep him awake." Cas offered, pulling Dean's attention back to him. "I think he should sleep until we get back to the bunker."

Dean swallowed hard and nodded his acknowledgment as he got Baby back on the road

Afraid to wake Sam, Dean left the radio off. The silence was thick in the car, and it made him uncomfortable. It also didn't help that at some point, Cas had slid out of his suit jacket. He had it folded on the seat between them, and it kept drawing Dean's attention.

Desperate for noise, desperate for an escape to not think about the practically naked Castiel next to him, Dean thought of something to do to break the silence.

"You know, Cas. I know I said it earlier, but you are really good with Sam." Dean stole a quick glance at the angel, and instantly regretted it, noticing the pushed-up sleeves.

"And as I responded earlier, it's Sam. He's not an actual child." The timber of Cas' voice sent a child down Dean's spine. "If he were an actual child, he would probably not respond as well to me."

"You're selling yourself short, Cas." Dean deflected. "I mean, yeah, we're pretty sure Sam's still adult Sam in there, but he's still a toddler. He's still little. You're responding well to that."

"Oh." Cas replied quietly. Silence filled the car again, until Cas asked his own question. "Did you ever want a child, Dean?"

"Had one." Dean muttered. "Didn't get to know her, though."

"When was this?" Cas asked, and Dean turned to look at Cas, registering the surprise on the angel's face.

"It was, uh..." Dean looked back towards the road. "It was while you were Emmanuel." Dean shot his tongue out between his lips and licked. He didn't like to think of that time without Cas, and he wasn't sure how to phrase what had happened. "Sam and I had a case where men were dying with this odd symbol carved into them. We rolled into town, I hit up the one place they all had in common, and I met a woman named Lydia."

Silence came from Cas' side of the car, and Dean continued. "I was kinda heavy into the bottle during that time, and before I knew it, she took me home. Turned out, she was our monster of the week."

"You slept with a creature?" Dean didn't have to look at Cas to hear the confusion in his voice.

"I didn't know, okay? Turned out she was an Amazon. Over the course of a couple of days, she had Emma and Emma grew to a teenager." Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Due to some rite of passage, Emma was told to come and kill me. Sam killed her, partially to protect me and partially in revenge."

"Sam killed in revenge?"

"I killed a prior girlfriend of his. Sam's got a thing for creatures. Demons, Werewolves, Kitsune... Oh my." Dean shook his head. "Part of me knows that Emma was going to kill me. But the other part? Well, I regret not getting that chance to actually find out."

Cas' hand rested on Dean's shoulder, and a flush colored his cheeks. "For what it's worth, Dean. Knowing that you raised Sam, and seeing how you are with him now? I think you would be a wonderful father."

"This life ain't for a kid, Cas. You know that. Hell, I had you erase Lisa and Ben's memories, so they wouldn't remember anything about the supernatural." Dean felt a heat building behind his eyes, and he took in a deep breath to keep the tears at bay.

"If you found the right person Dean, would you stop hunting and settle down?" Cas' hand slipped off Dean's shoulder, and Dean found himself craving its return. "I know you tried with Lisa, but she wasn't right for you."

"Cas, this is the only life I know." Dean shook his head. "The old man made it so I'd be his good little soldier. I don't know any other way."

"That's a lie, Dean. John may have kept you from being a child, he may have thrust too many responsibilities on you for someone so young. He did a lot wrong by you, and I'm sorry. But you are ten times the man that he ever was, and by knowing your childhood and what he did wrong. You would turn it around to be the best father you could be."

Dean cast a glance over to Cas, to find him pointedly staring out the window. Dean let his shoulder drop and focused on getting them home.

Another hour of uncomfortable silence later, Dean pulled up into the bunker's garage. As he cut Baby's engine, Sam started to stir in the backseat. Cas quickly got out of the car and made a point of getting to Sam, pulling the toddler into his arms and carrying him into the bunker. Dean had barely gotten out himself, to find that Cas had left him in the dust.

"Go figure." Dean muttered to himself. He moved to the trunk, popping it open and grabbing out his duffel bag. He also grabbed Sam's before closing the trunk and heading in to drop things off.

Dean stopped by his room first, dropping off his bag before making the trip to Sam's. The door was already open, and he could hear Sam talking to Cas.

"De?"

"Dean will be here in a moment. I'm sure he stopped to get your things out of the car." Dean peeked in to see Cas sitting on the edge of the bed, Sam leaning against him.

"Tank you, Cas." Sam tried his best to wrap his arms around Cas in a hug. It caught Cas off guard, and Dean thought it was cute how Cas tried to figure out where to rest his hands to hug Sam in return. "Cas, read?"

"You want me to read to you?" Cas questioned.

Dean chose that moment to come in and rescue the angel. "Okay, Sammy. I brought your bag in. You really shouldn't play with the things in here, so I'm going to put it in your closet so you can't get it."

"De!" Sam hopped off the bed and ran to Dean wrapping his arms around Dean's leg again. "Tank you!"

Dean squatted down next to Sam, pulling him off of his leg. "How are you feeling, Sam?"

"Cas read, peas!" Sam pointed at Cas before crossing his arms over his chest in a huff.

"You want Cas to read to you?" Dean looked over at Cas, who was sitting nervously on Sam's bed. "You might have to ask him really nicely. I heard he likes warm hugs."

Sam nodded and ran back to Cas, stealing his hand. "Cas read!"

"Traitor." Cas whispered at Dean before looking at Sam. "Let's go find a book." He took Sam's hand and led him to the library.

Dean watched as Cas walked away with Sam before pulling out his cell. He quickly swiped through his contacts before pressing the call button.

"Dean." Rowena answered on the first ring. "I'm en route. How's the wee Samuel?"

"Same as he was when he was actually three." Dean let out a sigh. "You got an ETA for me?"

"Ah, yes. About three hours? Had a bit of an issue involving the procuring of Lamia scale." Rowena hummed over the phone. "The last few items I may need are ubiquitous, and I'm sure I can locate them in yer inventory."

"Alright, we'll see you soon then. Just call when you're here so I can let you in." Dean hung up the phone and headed to the library to check on Sam and Cas. He quietly walked down the hallway, stop as he reached the entrance. Dean smiled as he found Cas sitting in one of the comfier chairs with Sam curled up in his lap.

Cas looked up briefly, barely acknowledging Dean's presence before returning to the story he was reading to Sam. "Ceyx was deeply moved, for she loved him no better than he loved her, but his purpose held fast. He felt that he must get counsel from the oracle, and he would not hear of her sharing the perils of the voyage. She had to yield and let him go alone. Her heart was so heavy when she bade him farewell it was as if she foresaw what was to come. She waited on the shore watching the ship until it sailed out of sight."

"Are you seriously reading Ovid to a toddler, Cas?" Dean leaned against the doorway.

"Edith Hamilton's version, but yes." Cas held up the book. "I remember Sam enjoying Greek and Roman mythology."

"He does. But that might be a little above his reading level at the moment." Dean winked at Cas. "Sammy, want to watch cartoons?"

Sam squirmed out of Cas' lap and ran to Dean. "De, up!"

"I'm getting too old for this." Dean picked up Sam and rested him on his hip. "You coming, Cas?"

Cas set the book on the table next to him and stood up, following after Dean. They walked to the kitchen, where Dean set Sam up on one of the seats. "Stay here, Sammy."

Dean ran to his room and grabbed his laptop, checking its charge before heading back to the kitchen. Cas had taken a seat next to Sam, who had started babbling to Cas again. He set his laptop down in front of Sam, opening it to Netflix. "Cas, help him find something to watch? I'm going to make Sammy some grilled cheese for dinner."

Sam's eyes lit up at the mention of grilled cheese, and Dean winced slightly as Sam's gibberish picked back up, louder and faster. He headed over to the fridge and started grabbing out the things he needed. Before long, he heard the sounds of Planet Earth starting, and he turned and looked back at Cas.

"Do not look at me like that, Dean." Cas pointed at Sam. "This was his choice."

"I'm watching you, Cas." Dean pointed back, using the stick of butter in his hand. "I know you and your wily ways."

"Yes, because I'm going to corrupt Sam by letting him watch a show about the forces of nature." Cas sassed in return.

Dean started to reply, but was interrupted by Sam. "Cas! Frog!" Dean shook his head. Yeah, Sam had picked that out himself.

A few minutes later and a plate stacked with grilled cheese in hand, Dean joined Sam and Cas at the table. Cas pulled the laptop back so cheesy fingers - from Sam or Dean - wouldn't get all over it. Together, they ate contently, enjoying the episode that Sam had picked to watch. Once the plate was cleared of all the sandwiches, Cas paused the show. He offered to clean up the dishes while Dean helped Sam wash his face and hands.

Despite it being Sam, a brief thought of having this kind of moment with his own child entered Dean's thoughts. His mind wandered more: sitting at a table with them, eating dinner with them, even helping them with their homework.

Then Dean thought of the child, curled up on Cas' lap, enjoying a story. He thought of him and Cas, tucking their child into bed at night. Dean tried to push that thought out of mind, afraid of lingering on what he thought he couldn't have.

As Dean shooed Sam back into the kitchen and over to Cas, his phone went off. He pulled it out of his pocket and breathed out a silent relief. "Rowena. You're here?"

"Yes, Dean. Come be a dear as promised?" She hung up with a beep, and Dean made his way up to the main entrance. He swung the door wide open. "Ello, Dean." Rowena sashayed past him and entered the bunker. "Where is our wee Samuel?"

"Unless they moved, I left him and Cas in the kitchen." Dean gestured, letting Rowena go first.

"Enjoying a little family time with yer angel?" Rowena looked over her shoulder as she walked down the stairs. "Having a wee taste of what ye think ye cannae have?"

Dean didn't acknowledge her, not trusting his voice to betray how right she was.

"Weena!" Sam jumped out of his chair and ran to Rowena and hugged her leg as she entered the kitchen.

"Can we keep him like this?" Rowena looked at Cas before looking at Dean who walked up next to her. "I know ye've been with him since this happened, but he's so dear." She bent down and booped Sam on the nose, earning a giggle. "And I dun need to look up to him!"

"I don't think a couple more minutes will hurt." Dean shook his head before looking at Cas. "I told you, Sam has always had a way with the ladies."

"So I see, Dean." Cas frowned. "But I do think it's time to make him an adult again. I don't know how much damage there is from the spell."

Sam froze at Cas' comment before bolting from Rowena and clinging to Dean. "No, De! No!"

"Heya, Sammy. What's wrong?" Dean crouched down, and found Sam's arms around his neck, briefly choking him.

"Big is owie." Sam hid his face in Dean's neck, and Dean slowly stood up, holding his little brother in his arms. "Sammy small."

"You wanna stay small, Sammy?" Dean asked, his heart melting for the umpteenth time in 24 hours when Sam nodded into his neck. "But don't you miss being big like me and Cas?" Sam shook his head no.

"Sam," Cas crossed over and rubbed Sam's back. "Do you think being big will be scary?"

Sam pulled back from Dean's neck and looked at Cas and nodded.

"Can I ask what's scary?" Cas continued rubbing the little circles on Sam's back, and Dean had never been more grateful for the angel in his life.

Sam looked like he was deep in thought before he pointed at Cas, then pointed at Dean.

"Me and Cas are scary when you're big?" Dean asked, confused as to why they would be scary when he would be larger than both of them.

"No!" Sam rested his forehead on Dean's shoulder, and Dean could feel his little brother getting frustrated.

"Hey. Hey, Sammy." Dean gently bounced Sam in his arms. "Is it hard not being able to use your words?"

Sam nodded, then pointed at Dean. "Love." Sam pointed at Cas. "Love." He finally pointed at himself. "Love!"

"Sammy, you're my little brother, you know I love you." Dean looked at Cas. "And Cas? He's family. He loves you too." Dean smiled when Cas nodded in agreement. "That's not going to change when you're big again. I promise." Dean turned to Rowena and gestured with his head to come over. "If you go with Rowena, she's going to take good care of you, and when you're back? Me and Cas will prove that nothing's changed."

"No! No, no!" Sam cried out, despite reaching for Rowena. "Weena!"

"Sweet Samuel. I know what you mean. I'm sorry that they're dense." Sam sniffled and hiccoughed into Rowena's shoulder. "Boys, Samuel wants ye both to talk. Why dun ye get comfy in the library, he and I will go to the infirmary? I'll get him right back to his full size." She rested Sam on her hip. "Even though he's adorable like this. I'm half tempted to follow his wishes." Rowena started exiting the kitchen. "Castiel, Dean. Talk."

Dean dragged his hand down his face and followed Rowena out of the kitchen, turning towards the library with Cas behind him. He headed over to the chairs, leaving the one Cas had cuddled up with Sam in earlier, and taking the one next to it. Cas took his original seat and picked up the book he had left on the table.

"Still can't believe you picked one of Ovid's stories to read to a toddler." Dean pointed at the book.

"I read him a love story."

Dean tilted his head to the side in acknowledgment. "I guess that's true."

"You know, Dean. I was thinking." Cas leafed through the book. "About our conversations earlier. How you said that I was good with Sam."

"Realize that I was telling the truth and going to admit it?" Dean turned in the chair and leaned against the arm to get a better look at Cas. "You came right over and started comforting him. You knew exactly what to do, Cas. You didn't even second guess yourself."

"There have been times over the past few years where I've interacted with children. You remember how I was with Nora's baby. I needed you to help me." Cas paused and set the book down. "There were other times where I just moved on instinct."

"Pretty sure that's how most adults are when it comes to kids, Cas."

"What I'm trying to say, is that I enjoyed being Sam's parent for a little bit, even if he was never really my child, and I was never really his parent." Cas frowned. "I have enjoyed co-parenting with you."

"With me?" Dean's heart raced. He bit his tongue, afraid of saying the wrong thing.

Cas nodded. "I believe you would be an amazing father, Dean. I see the man that Sam has turned out to be, and I see how you've been with him today. I want you to find the right person to be that parent with."

"You think I did that?" Dean closed his eyes and swallowed. Images of growing up with Sam flashed through his memories. Teaching Sam to read. Helping him learn how to ride a bike. Helping him with his first heartbreak. "I only did what I wanted my father to do."

"And like I said before, Dean. You know what you missed out on, and you wouldn't want to do that to your child." Cas stood up and offered his hand down.

Dean hesitantly took Cas' hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. He took a deep breath. "Cas, I don't have to find someone I'd want that with."

"Oh." Cas frowned. "I figured you wouldn't want to do it alone. But I guess you would have Sam to help. And Rowena appears to be fond of children. Jody would also help, I'm sure, as would Donna. You have a–"

Dean leaned in and kissed Cas, silencing him. It was soft, it was sweet, and Dean hoped that it would deliver his message to Cas. He pulled back, afraid to look in Cas' eyes, afraid to see if he made the biggest mistake in his life. Dean's breath hitched as he felt Cas' finger hook under his chin, lifting it, so their eyes met.

Cas leaned in, his hand moving from Dean's chin to gently cup Dean's cheek. He reclaimed Dean's lips returning the message with his own soft and sweet devotion.

"Ewww. My dads are kissing." Sam's voice whipped through the library, startling Cas and Dean, causing them to pull back abruptly. "I didn't think you got the message."

"I needed to translate for ye. Who knows how long these two would have danced around one another." Rowena stood next to Sam smugly, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Your message?" Dean inquired. "The only tantrum you gave us all day?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Cas nailed it pretty early on. I had all my knowledge up here, but the capacity of a toddler can't process all that. The brain isn't developed enough." He pointed at Dean. "Also, delete the damn picture of me eating those pancakes."

"No can do." Dean snaked his arm around Cas waist and pulled him closer. "So the message, before marshmallow brain distracted you?"

"You two have always danced around each other. You both thought that no one knew what you were hiding from each other. Dean, I know you aren't exactly out of the closet, but let's face it, you look at Cas like he hung the moon. Cas looks at you the same way." Sam shook his head. "You two had no qualms about showing that affection, about being domestic when you both had to take care of me. I would have stayed a child if it meant you two stayed like that."

"Why, Sam?" Cas tilted his head in confusion.

Sam pointed at Dean. "He said things wouldn't change when I was big again. My mind processed that as you two going back to the way things were." He smiled softly and shook his head. "Dean's taken care of me all of our lives. It's my turn to make sure he's taken care of. I know you can do that, Cas."

"Aye, his little heart was breaking." Rowena confirmed. "I had to promise him that I'd remind him to talk to ye two when he was an adult again. It appears he didnae have to."

Cas looked at Dean. "So when you say that you wouldn't need to find someone..."

"I meant you, Cas." Dean rested their foreheads together. "It was always you.”

#profoundnet #spncreatorsdaily #writersofdestiel #spnpetra #destiel #deancas #kid fic #rating: teen and up #no warnings #nickel writes #nickel's story time

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raziroo · 3 years

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Karma | The Marauders

[Chapter 2] Wands and Voodoo

The oaken door flew open as Karma pushed it, revealing a rickety metal desk which ought to have been changed by now, three chairs, one behind the desk and two on the other side, whose cushioning was torn and tattered, an old wooden cupboard against the wall on the left of the door – it contained the children's records and personal information – and two elderly women; one was well put together, even in her strange emerald green apparel, and the other looking like she'd risen from a grave and jumped in a tub of oil.

The latter gave another call. "OI! Why're you late?"

"I was busy with something."

"Busy with something, hm? I'm sure as heck you weren't busy with something! Just planning mischief, you were, yes, I know!"

Karma was outraged. How could Beauregarde be this dumbly unfair? She'd just seen that Karma really was busy with something, for heaven's sake. It was evident by the look on her face what Karma was thinking. However, before she could argue back, a stern voice spoke up.

"Mrs. Beauregarde, if you could please cease your argument. I would appreciate if I get to talk to Karma here. It is acceptable if you wish to leave the room, but seeing as you're her guardian, it would be advisa-"

"I'm not no one's guardian! Little brats, all of 'em are, don't know why I'm still doing this, weasels, rats, absolute dingbats, rotting the house of my husband..."

Gertrude kept on grumbling under her breath, and so, the woman turned to Karma with her lips in a thin line. "Please," she motioned to the one remaining chair. Karma quickly trotted to it, and perched on it.

She was nervous. This woman had been here a few times earlier, and after each of her visit, one or sometimes even two children always disappeared for about a year, and came back only once, around mid-year. People, not only in the orphanage, but also in the surrounding streets and blocks, had spotted the woman quite a few times. Some often wondered if she was here to adopt the children, but it didn't seem likely, with the kids coming back once a year and refusing to say even a word to anyone except their closest friends. And even if the elderly woman was, Karma wasn't the least bit interested in adoption. She wasn't going to risk being sent to a place she wasn't good with; she knew that unlike in most orphanages, Beauregarde wouldn't give a lizard's tail to Karma's opinion, the old hag would just want to send karma away.

However, before Karma could voice her doubts and queries, the woman spoke up.

'Karma, I'm Minerva McGonagall, a professor at Hogwarts School-,'

Hogwarts? Why not just name it Warthogs?

'-of Witchcraft and Wizardry-,'

What the heck?

'-with Albus Dumbledore as the headmaster.' Karma was stunned speechless. What the hell was going on, she didn't know.

'Now, I'm aware that this news must be greatly startling for you-,'

Understatement of the century.

'-but it is very much true. Magic exists, and so do witches and wizards and wands. There aren't many wizards and witches around this particular area in London, but some still exist; for example, let us take Mister Montgomery, the eleven-year-old I escorted out of this orphanage 11 years ago – he is now a promising wizard. And so are all the children of this orphanage who have met me before this day. And not unlike these children, Miss Karma, you too, are a witch, and not a muggle.'

Witchcraft? Wizardry? What would they learn, voodoo magic? Would they need talismans and dreamcatchers and crystals and amulets, too? Voodoo dolls like Karma, innocently, had made as a mere child? Would they have to live in cobble cottages, with a creepy animal as a familiar? And what, in the name of holy Mother Mary, was a muggle?

'I am also aware that "magic" in the muggle world isn't... greatly appreciated. I know it is usually associated with crystals and amulets, but let me assure you, it is most certainly not so. You will just need a wand, such as this,' the woman pulled out a wooden stick, which was supposedly a wand; it was sleek, with a few bulging designs on the grip. 'With a wand such as this alone, you will be able to learn most wondrous things, such as charms, spells, jinxes, and transfiguration, of whom I am your Professor of. I understand it is a lot to take in, but you must make sure of one thing, Miss Karma – do not, do not in any circumstances whatsoever, let slip your abilities, or your magic, for it isn't allowed except in exceptional circumstances to use magic outside of school, not unless you are of age. I have, for the most part, told you everything. You may ask any questions you have now.'

Karma let loose at once. 'What are muggles? How will I get my wand? How will I get to school? Why was I not aware of my magic before today? And, from what I'm guessing, this Warthogs school is a boarding school, and I don't want to leave my friends, and this place, in general, so is there a way for me to not attend this school? And, uh, well... that's all... for now.'

Only after having finished did Karma realize she was slowly nearing the chair's edge, and that she was speaking faster than intended, and that the witch before her had brows raised and a hint of a smile present on her face.

'Miss Karma, you did not know of your magic before today, because eleven is the age at which young wizards and witches receive their letters to Hogwarts. In the case of muggle born children, such as you – children of people who do not possess magical abilities – you are kept in the dark about your abilities up till your eleventh birthday, and that is when you receive your letter to Hogwarts- '

'-But my eleventh birthday was on the 11th of February, why did I receive it so late?'

'-Because, Miss Karma, you do not have...' Oh. So that was how it was. These magical people discriminated against orphans, huh?

'You do not have any legal guardian except for Mrs. Beauregarde, and it is her request to not be disturbed, in her words, on each particular magical child's birthday; she would rather have me visit once, before school starts, and collect all the witches and wizards that need to be escorted.'

'...Uh-huh.' Karma believed this McGonagall woman. That did seem like something Gertrude would do. But one query still hadn't been answered; the most important one.

'Is it necessary for me to attend this school?'

Karma didn't want to attend Hogwarts. She had Morgan and Jade, and that was enough. Who was to say there wouldn't be evil people in this school, turning naughty kids to frogs and rats? And who was to guarantee that the teachers didn't beat children with magical canes and belts; yes, Professor McGonagall (Karma felt inclined to call her that, for some reason) seemed nice enough, but what if it was just for show?

'Miss Karma, it is crucial you attend Hogwarts; there is no way you will be able to control your magic successfully. Even worse, if your magic is suppressed, it can prove to be dangerous.' The elderly woman's grim tone told Karma it was better not to question this. So, she nodded.

'Okay. But... how will I get my wand? And books?' Karma had many questions to ask. But for the time being, this would have to suffice.

'No one's looking out for us. Not for the Slytherins.'

#karma | the marauders #the marauders #the marauders era #peter pettigrew #Sirius Black #James Potter #Remus Lupin #minerva mcgonagall #hogwarts #raziroo

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idio-cies · 4 years

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Right, I need to go on a rant because lockdown is still getting to me and I am fed up with the same comments I hear every time I allude to my sexuality (mostly ace) towards my family.

So story time: today my Nana was showing my mum about princess Gertrude or something being married in an old Ball gown of the Queen's and how it was altered a bit and as an a fly away comment of me being pedantic I said "having a wedding dress is over-rated anyway" to which my mum gave a mock shocked face saying that of course I would say something like that (My family joke about me being cold-hearted as I don't cry at sad films or books, and can just lack empathy to certain things). So I laughed to continue the joke but what I intended was that you know why a dress? Women can be married in suits or two-pieces if they wish? Like what's the fuss. Oh hell, the men could wear flounces! Also upcycling yay for the environment! So I continued, starting to say the colour, my mum saying about how my older sister will be in Ivory and I said "Come on, that's off white! But I mean Chinese get married in red" and she continued "in India they get married in all sorts of colours" and I said "exactly! Why white?" And she said before I could continue "I suppose you would get married in black" so I scrunched up my face and said "if I ever get married" and then came the usual "you might not say that as you get older" you know. That golden nugget of a line that is told to many people who are aro/ace or whatever the identify as. Some people just do not wish to be married. I also said "whats the point in having a dress you only wear once, anyway" which, as I expected was returned with "you could pass it on to your children". My mum continued saying how her best friend used to think like me and now is married and has had two children, then she left to go do something. My Nana then joined in saying how I don't want to not give my mum grandkids, to which I shrugged, she continued saying how what if my husband didn't wanted kids what would I do then? This is when I started to get mad but with this situation I always try and brush everything over considering I know from experience how things will go (will get brushed with the aforementioned comments, stereotypes etc). So I shrugged and said "well then it wasn't meant to be" in my head I was thinking what if I don't want a husband, what if I have a wife, or a partner who identifies as non-binary or genderfluid? What if I just never marry, or just live the rest of my life with my friends? What if, if I do change my mind about kids, I adopt. But I couldn't say that. My nana continued by saying "well, I guess you wouldn't marry if that was the case" and I'm just sat there stewing.

See, my problem here is that my parents certainly are more liberal, and the reason why I make jokes that allude to me being ace is because they have also made jokes about saying how they probably will never have grand kids, or that I don't go for that sort of thing and I had hope. My sister is a lesbian and they knew for ages and still love her and want the best for her, but my mum never understood why my sister was so hesitant to come out and I explained to her how people coming out always have that fear, that even if their parents or their friends are liberal, they still may not be fully accepted for who they are. Plus, my sister has had bad experiences with friends being homophobic or use her in the face of her coming out, but my mum took this explanation as me hiding something about myself.

When I had my first boyfriend a year ago my mum thought the perfect time to bring up sex would be as she placed food in front of me. I legit choked on my food and as she continued I had to tell her right there and then that I believed myself to be ace and she had nothing to worry about and she didn't understand, so I had to explain. This was the first proper time I heard her deflect that "I might change my mind". When I stayed overnight at his, my dad was teasing me asking whether I needed rubbers and kept on asking me. The thing is, it was always jokey but I'm pretty sure he was concerned. Then my sister thought more happened between him and I when he broke up with me, indicating that we probably had sex, because of how upset I was over it all. I'm pretty sure a couple of my friends thought that too. However, one of my friends said what I was thinking which was that part of the reason why he broke up with me was because I wouldn't have sex with him which was the case considering when I told him that my dad joked about getting rubbers he asked me if I did all excited and I said no with a confused expression like "we've been over this, I thought you understood" and he looked away disheartened with an "oh" thats when I think I knew this wasn't right. To be fair I should've known about "oh, so you're a celibate" and loads of other things like believing I liked something when I didn't or I wasn't sure so ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ I was young and it was my first boyfriend so you know, I was naive. The reason why I was so broken-hearted was because I'm pretty sure it was because I was ace, and because of that I felt like I would never be loved, or respected. What's more is he tried to take advantage of my friend when they were together whilst she was drunk! So he is just a huge dickhead anyway.

Anyways, I guess for my grandparents to understand is trickier and as far as I'm aware they don't know that I said to my mum who probs told my dad that I'm ace. I always get told that they won't change. My grandad I think still believes my sister isn't fully gay by the fact that he refuses to say "girlfriend" and also slander her girlfriend a bit, and he never believed she showed signs, though why should that matter if she "showed signs"? And my Nana said she did and is a little more accepting of my sister's girlfriend (btw, this is not my older sister who is getting married). I hate being told that people who are older (especially my grandparents) won't change their minds or see things differently. I don't understand how people can go through life like that? But I guess that's because I'm a more open-minded person who makes sure I have several perspectives on certain things.

The thing now though is that I'm scared that I'm under the category of ace where the stereotype is that I'm a robot because I lack empathy and am cold-hearted and such. I know that for my Nana and also for my Nanny that they ended up abandoning their careers for the sake of raising a family and for me, that just feels like an epic loss. I also think that my grandparents first impression of my mum was not approving as she had a baby when she was 20 out of wedlock and had an abusive partner.

After this spiel, if you are still with me, I just want to let you know that this is life is complicated. Heck, I even queried about my best friend being ace, but I think that is because I never thought someone so close to me could have the same feelings about that topic and also because I am constantly questioning myself, probably because I have had "oh, you may change your mind when you're older" most of my life. Oh, I know I could, but for what feels my entire life (when I gained consciousness of myself and was making choices for myself without having this stereotyped life conditioned in my brain) was that I never personally want to have kids. Ever. I understand I may change my mind and if I do I will adopt because I would like to think that I could make a child's life better, and also we have a dense enough population as it is. I do not care if I have a partner with me in my life. I can quite easily get by independently in life. I'm not adverse to having a partner, whoever/whenever/and whatever status it may be.

What I find hilarious though is that I'm very nonchalant about my sexuality, but I do not wish to tell my gay sister that I am queer on some scale. She has had too many run-ins of me slipping to say that I'm not straight or my friend legit said a joke about how my hair is as straight as me (it's curly) because I have made that joke around her before about myself. TERRIFIED. She has jokingly confronted me about it as well and I remained nonchalant as I always do.

So I guess what I'm trying to say that even though people can be liberal in mind, it is always tricky to tell your family and (after stereotypes and assumptions have been placed on me) friends. I have even had a friend who told me that basically I wasn't ace sinply because I didn't know how to answer him in something related to do with sex. I AM ALMOST 19, I DO NOT HAVE MY LIFE FIGURED OUT. I AM STILL QUESTIONING MY OWN EXISTENCE LET ALONE MY SEXUALITY/ORIENTATION.

I would love to go through my life with no labels whatsoever. Whether I'm female, that I'm ace, or that I'm most likely pan. I've always been weird with labels. I simply do not care about that, but I also care about it too much. I do not want societal pressure to tell me that I need a partner in my life, that I need to have children in order to be happy and be worth something. That is not what makes a life. I want people to understand this, especially my family, but I'm afraid they won't even if they are aware that they know it's not for all people. The life I want is to be with the people I love and I can trust and engage with. That I am successful and can stand up for who and what I believe in. So this is my message to people out there. Take all the time in the world to discover who you are. Whether you prefer labels for it or not. To not let societal pressure get to you too much. I know it's hard and the nature of the world and its people are complex, but please be true to yourself and I'm sure you will find your people and your way in life.

#this has been a milly spiel #lgbtqa+#ace #asexual #asexuality #life #im sorry this is so long #story time #life is not easy #personal

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spongeguyandlelouchvibridankia · 5 years

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“Forgiveness”: A Ducktales Fanfic with Lena

Dedicated to lenasmagic, a blog on Tumblr.

“Gary, are you SURE you haven’t forgotten anything?”, Pricilla asked with that tone that implied that she was 100 % sure that Gary had most DEFINITELY forgotten something.

Gary rolled his eyes as he approached the pod door of his golden spacecraft that shined and glowed in the bright noon day sun.

“Pricilla, for the last time, I HAVEN’T forgotten anything!”, he complained, fishing in his golden pockets, his tongue sticking out in concentration.

“Really?”, she asked in disbelief, hands on her hips. She was taller than him, so it always gave him the impression that she was disappointed in him when she did that.

He was right.

“I’m telling you, I haven’t forgotten…”, Gary started, when suddenly it snapped and he realized that…

“…The keys.”, he sighed, resigned to his fate.

Pricilla closed her eyes, triumphant. “Yes, the keys. I told you so.”

“Hey, uh, your keys are here.”, a different voice suddenly rose up from the crowd of moonpeople walking around looking for their earthly… Or, well, moonly possessions.

You’d think that spotting a voice in a crowd of blue and purple aliens clad in golden armor would be difficult.

But hard as she tried, Lena Saberwing (formerly Lena De Spell, niece of one of the most evil people to ever live, but who’s thinking about that) couldn’t NOT stand out.

The teen duck with pink dyed hair that heavily contrasted with her mood, a black and grey striped shirt over a mint collared shirt that gave her a very different feel to the more simply dressed inhabitants of the planet, and most noticeably, purple eyeshadow that gave her a haunting or haunted look, depending on your perspective, stood in front of the moon people, a golden key chain in the palm of her hand.

If Gary and Pricilla knew the years of pain, suffering, self hatred and resentment buried deep in those black black pupils, they may have taken pity on the young girl, who held aloft their way back home.

But Gary and Pricilla didn’t, and space traffic WAS busy this time of year.

“Give me that!”, Gary snatched the keys, momentarily scraping Lena’s feathered palm, making her recoil for a second.

“What you deserve…”, a voice whispered, as it always did when she got hurt.

She had learned to mostly tune it out.

…Mostly.

“Hey!”, she protested, annoyed at the shabby treatment. “How about a thank you? I just helped you get off this crummy planet.”

Pricilla waved Lena’s protests off, as if they were some annoying fly or something, and not a living, breathing person… Er, Duck, in front of her.

“Whatever, young one. Let’s get out of here, Gary.”

Gary unlocked the pod and mumbled under his breath as Pricilla entered their craft.

“Gary do this, Gary do that…”, he muttered, and he lumbered inside, the door closing and the shuttle flying off into the deep unknown of space.

Gone.

Forever.

“Good riddance.”, Lena thought, and she frowned at the departing space crafts, all of which had moments ago been trying to kill her and all her friends.

Her family.

Her only family.

And they were going off scot free!

She kicked a pebble with her left green and white sneaker, annoyed at the injustice of it all!

What if someone she cared for had been hurt by these monsters?

Someone like Scrooge McDuck, or Mrs. Beakley, whom had given her another chance after all the damage she had caused?

Or someone closer to her, like her new friends Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck?

Or even worse: Her new adopted sister and lovable pain in the butt Violet Saberwing?

And Violet’s dads…

Correction: Her dads.

…Her dads. That felt… Weird.

And worst of all: What if Webby had been hurt?

Her best friend had been at the thick of the fighting, literally part of Earth’s last defense!

“But…”, Lena admitted, as she walked up to a hill overseeing the moon men spaceships. “I can’t exactly criticize others for nearly hurting my friends and family.”

Lena shivered for a moment as she got another intense flashback: A regular occurrence, but never a pleasant one.

“After all… I nearly did too.”

Oh no. She was sinking again.

And she was hearing a weird sound again.

One negative thought leads to another. Soon she’d be thinking about lying to Webby about their friendship, which would be followed by trying to steal Scrooge’s number one dime, followed by losing her body to her “loving” Aunt Magica, followed by being trapped for a YEAR as a shadow, followed by almost becoming Magica…

Lena suddenly realized that the weird sound she was hearing was her own hyperventilating, and, not wanting anyone to see, she clasped her beak with her right wind and clenched her left wing’s fist, hoping that she could force it out.

It didn’t really work, but thankfully, a distraction arose.

“So… Moon people.”

Lena had heard many distinct sounds in her life, but perhaps the driest (and right now, most thankfully distracting) sound she had ever heard was the voice of Violet Saberwing, her aforementioned adopted sister/giant pain.

Lena smiled in relief as she approached the hummingbird with a mint green shirt and average expression (though Lena had lived with her enough time to know that there was a small smile that was only reserved for her), and the two sisters stood face to face… Sort of.

Lena was very tall.

“Should that be something I should be worried about? Most kids my age are around her height.”, Lena thought, and she cringed. “Am I seriously getting angsty over my height as well?”

Violet nodded at the disappearing space craft with an educated sniff. “Must say, not only did I think that no one lived on the moon, but I didn’t think they’d be such…”

“Jerks?”, Lena offered, still frustrated with their behavior and conduct.

“I was going to say inhospitable invaders, but sure, jerks in laymans terms works too.”, Violet dryly joked (at least, Lena thought it was a joke. You could never tell with Violet).

The two stood in silence for a moment as the ships continued to lazily leave. There were MANY, MANY ships, so the evacuation would take some time.

Some people, like Lena and Violet, opted to stand and watch the ships go by. There were even those who sat on the grass and ate sandwiches, waving goodbye to the would be conquerors.

Others, though, were preparing to leave back to their homes and their sort of but not really normal lives.

Off the corner of her left eye, Lena spotted the McDuck family entering a number of sleek black limosuines.

She could see Scrooge, Webby still clinging to his chest, stepping in to the vehicle, or at least, trying to, since Dewey tried to backflip in.

She couldn’t hear anything, but she didn’t need to to see Scrooge humorously chide the energetic boy, or Webby giggle that lovable laugh of hers.

Huey was excitedly jotting down something in his Junior Woodchuck guide book (for sure all the “thrilling” moon facts he had learned in the last few hours), Della and Donald were laughing together for the first time in a decade, and Launchpad was trying to reattach the car door he had just broken.

Lena could see multiple faces in that crowd, faces she sort of recognized from the last few days, like that Darkwing what’s his name, and Gizmoduck, or faces that she had known for a long time, like Mrs. Beakly and Duckworth.

There were even faces she was only vaguely aware of, like Qucakfast and Gyro Gearloose.

But even those she didn’t recognize made her feel almost…

At home.

Like they were all one big family.

But Lena was honestly unsure if she could ever belong to that family.

What with…

“No!”, She demanded, furious with her mind. “No, I DON’T want to think about this!”

“I’m better now…”, she said to herself, but less assuredly.

For a few minutes, Lena and Violet sat silently as the ships departed, saying nothing, Lena lost in her thoughts, Violet trying her best not to think about the fact that her adopted sister was clearly suffering again.

Finally, Violet stood up and clicked her tongue.

“Welp, I’ve had all the fun one can possibly have from watching aliens enter spaceships.”

“Zero?”, Lena asked with half a smirk, looking up at her new little sister.

Violet again unleashed that small smile that only Lena got. “Around that amount.”

She looked back at her dads, who were waving at her next to the mini.

“Dad and Dad want us to come home and have a “Post Moonvasion Goulash”.”

“What the heck is that?”, Lena asked, humor laced in her words.

“Whatever it is, it’s going into our beaks. But they’re good cooks, so…”, Violet shrugged, and she started walking out.

Suddenly, she looked back at Lena, whose back was hunched and her shoulders were slumped as she stared at the lonely wet grass.

“…You… You coming?”

Hesitation could be heard, a rarity from Violet.

Not much phased the girl; she was a bit of an emotionless girl (which worried her fathers endlessly, much to her chargin).

However, if there was one thing that upset the bookworm, it was the sight of her new older sister depressed yet again.

Violet, however, was a smart kid; she knew that she wouldn’t be able to talk to Lena yet.

And if anyone could, they’d have to be particularly stubborn.

Violet knew that right now, that wasn’t her.

But she still asked an empty question, one she knew the answer to, hoping against hope that Lena would just come instead of spend the next few hours…

“You go ahead. I’ll… I’ll catch up.”, Lena breathed out breathlessly, her voice as distant as the moon that had brought upon her mood.

Violet nodded, knowing that this was to be the answer. “All right.”

She turned her back to Lena, half a sad look back.

“I’ll… I’ll keep a seat warm for you if you want to play Smash Bros.”

Lena nodded wordlessly.

“Cool.”, Violet remarked, and sighing, she began to walk up to her dads, trying to calculate how she would explain to her dads that Lena needed to feel bad again.

And for now…

Lena was alone.

Like always…

Lena was alone.

As she would always be…

Lena. Was.

Alone.

A light breeze blew gently, tickling her beak, making her wrinkle it.

Her eyes closed as she tried to breath deeply like Mrs. Beakly had suggested once.

Breath deeply, count to ten, and try to ignore the all encompassing guilt of existing.

Easier said then done.

But Lena never did do things easily, now did she?

Entering a lotus position (sort of. She needed to work on that, it wasn’t easy), Lena tried to focus only on good things.

“The past is behind me. The past is… Behind me.”, she said, shivering as she tried to ignore.

She tried SO HARD.

And she was SO TIRED.

“Think… About what you have.”, she said to herself, and she breathed deeply.

The wind blew through her hair, and she thought of Violet.

“I have a sister… And I have two dads. That’s cool. Some people have no dads. I’ve got two. Beat that.”

She took another deep breath, her words unsure.

“I have… Mrs. Beakly and Scrooge and Donald and Della and Launchpad looking after me. And I have Huey, Dewey and Louie.”

She took another deep breath, trying to ignore the terrifying feeling of inevitable depression.

“I have… Webby…”

She imagined herself grabbing hold of Webby’s hand, the friendship bracelets glowing…

Only for a strange yet familiar hand to grip her arm hard, removing the friendship bracelet in the process.

“Ow!”, Lena cried, and suddenly she saw herself back at the beach, contacting Aunt Magica.

“Aunt Magica…”, she had whispered, almost triumphantly. “I’m in.”

“This… Is your fault…”, a voice whispered.

Lena’s eyes widened and she turned to the voice, the waves crashing oddly muted, but her heartbeat pounding like a rocket launch in her ear. “Who said that? I’m… It’s not my…”

Suddenly she got smacked by an invisible hand, which flung her somewhere else.

Somewhere dark and cold.

“IT IS YOUR FAULT!”, the voice screeched, echoing and disappearing suddenly.

Turning around, Lena saw herself underground, lying to Mrs. Beakly over her allegiance.

“You lied…”

Lena looked around, searching for the voice that wasn’t there, yet also was.

“No I didn’t! I mean, I did, it’s just…”

“SILENCE!”, she got hit again, her beak throbbing now, forced tears dropping, lying on the ground, completely helpless.

“No… I…”

Suddenly she heard the tracks and the whistle.

The train was going to hit Beakly, just like last time.

“Beakly, look out!”, Lena screamed, but when she jumped at Beakly, she got hit by the train.

Waking up, she found herself in the shark she had created.

She had created.

Her fault.

Her fault

Her fau…

“Shut up!”, she shouted, eyes closed shut, but it wasn’t enough. The fingers kept pointing, pointing, pointing, changing, transforming, until they became…

“We’re friends, you beautiful idiot! I don’t care what you did!”

Lena wanted to believe that.

She HAD to believe that, it had to be true!

“Look at what you did for a body…”, the voice whispered again, leaving feedback in her ears, but Lena didn’t have time for guilt!

She had to save Webby and herself!

Sliding down like she had, she chanted “With the hand of my best friend…”

Lena glowed blue like she had then, and she could see Webby falling.

An excited smile popped on her face, redemption was right there for the taking!

“I bring about…”

But as she reached towards Webby, the invisible hand choked her, lifting her up from the ground.

Lena grasped and throttled, barely calling out Webby’s name as the duckling fell down and down and down and down…

“WEBBY!”, she screamed, tears falling, her vocal chords nearly damaged, as she got dropped down to the ground…

“TAKE. THE. DIME!”

And here she was, in the other bin, Scrooge’s fabled Number One Dime almost at her grasp, Aunt Magica ordering, demanding her to seal the world’s fate…

Her hand slowly and surely reached…

“NO!”, Lena screamed, taking her hand away, but the invisible hand pulled her back towards it.

A tug of war occurred, Lena desperately trying to go away from the coin, the invisible hand dragging her back.

“Hands off of me, you… Hand!”, Lena shouted, and with a swift tug, she got out of the hands grasp and rolled away just in time to…

It glinted in her palm, just like last time.

“…Oh no…”, Lena whispered, failing to believe that she had done it.

“But why is it so hard to believe, Lena?”, the voice echoed in her mind as she went to her knees and held her head in fear, shame and panic.

“After all…”

Webby’s body fell from the money shark down to the ground next to her.

“WEBBY! Are you all…”

But Lena couldn’t finish the question. As she turned her friend around, the haunting image of a Webby doll stared right back at her.

Lena backed away in fright, barely reaching the wall behind her, gasping and hyperventilating.

“STOP IT! LET MY FRIEND GO!”, Lena screamed at the invisible hand.

“Stop what? What you’ve been doing?”

Another smack and Lena found herself in Magica’s hands, the witch’s face turning into her own, maliciously grinning at her.

“You’ve been using her, pulling her strings…”

Lena tried to escape, but the invisible hands held her tighter as Magica forcibly entered her soul and…

All was black.

All was lost.

Her eyes, her mind, her heart…

Poisoned to the core.

And here she was in the mansion.

Nearly destroying Scrooge’s life, the once great man laying distraught on the ground.

“Mr. McDuck? You don’t have to…”, Lena tried again to help, but the shadows came tumbling down around her, a vortex opening between her feet.

“It’s your fault they almost DIED!”

A kick to the chest nearly stopped her heart and her eyes rolled up to her head and…

Silence.

Shadows.

Nothing.

Seconds turn to minutes turn to hours turn to days turn to weeks turn to months…

“YOU HURT BEAKLEY!”

A punch like a train collided with her beak.

She tasted blood in her mouth and recoiled.

“YOU HURT SCROOGE!”

Her knees tripped and she smashed down to the ground, coughing out blood, her arms wobbling as she tried to stand up.

“YOU HURT THE McDUCK CLAN! YOUR CLOSEST THING TO A FAMILY!”

Multiple punches, kicks, pokes in the eye, scratches and slaps collided, hurt everywhere and nowhere, instantaneous and everlasting, inducing hot tears of shame that melted her face, retching out her soul.

The ethereal brightly lit soul, looking like Webby, reached out her hand, and Lean, desperate for redemption, reached out her hand in return.

The friendship bracelets returned, glowing brightly, Lena’s smile returning with joyful tears, hope seemingly back…

When Webby reached in and removed her heart.

“YOU HURT ME!”, Webby screeched, and pushed her off a cliff, Lena knowing she deserved it…

“No… That’s not true… It’s… Not my…”

Wake up.

Go to sleep.

Wake down.

Go to rest.

Wake on.

Go to the light.

Wake off…

DOWN TO THE DARK.

Lena crashed down, eyes braced for impact, only to be caught by…

“Violet?”, Lena asked, Violet right there, as ever, holding her back.

Lena burst into tears and cheered, nearly squishing Violet.

She smiled gratefully as her tears made Violet’s shirt wet, the hummingbird still silent.

“Violet! Oh my god, thank goodness you’re here! I almost…”

“ALMOST WHAT? HURT VIOLET?”, The voice returned, and Lena got held back as Violet was moved away, her eyes blank and lifeless, next to Webby, her Dads, Huey, Dewey, Lewie, Scrooge, Mrs. Beakley, Donald, Della, Launchpad…

“NO! I’D NEVER!”, Lena screamed back, when suddenly she saw a giant hand reach to hurt her family.

“STOP!”, She ordered, and she shot a blinding magic blast, purple light fizzing everywhere, sparks entering her eyes.

But at least the blast…

“…No…”, she mouthed, as she saw…

Empty eyes…

Limp hands…

Cold, unmoving bodies…

They were…

Dead…

“Because of you…”, the invisible voice whispered, this time almost gently.

Lena sobbed and sobbed as she got to her knees and held her face in her hands, crying tears, crying black magic, crying blood…

“Your fault… You killed them… You always did… It was you… From the very beginning…”

Lena suddenly felt herself changing, yet somehow staying the same…

She felt different, yet familiar…

A mirror was propped up between her and a wall, and Lena looked in to see…

“YOU were the villain.”

Magica’s face stared back at her, cackling.

Lena screamed, and anger and rage consuming her, she shouted “THAT’S. NOT. ME!”

She punched the mirror, but instead of the glass shattering, Magica’s face shattered, turning into…

“Me.”, she breathed out.

“You’re right, Lena…”,the voice said, taking shape as…

“You’re not Magica…”

Lena turned around to see…

Herself.

“You’re you.”

Lena stared back at the other Lena and vice versa.

The first looked like Lena always did, but the second was… different.

Her tears were black, her eyes were soulless, and her body was scarred beyond repair…

For some reason, Lena felt compelled to touch the other Lena’s hand…

So she stepped towards her…

And…

The two put their palms together…

“You’re you…”

Lena, smiling bravely despite it all, tried to wipe the black tears off of the other Lena…

WHOOSH!

It took a moment for Lena to realize that the weird wet thing she felt on her shirt was blood…

Spewing and gushing down from a gaping hole in her heart…

A diamond knife twisting harder and harder into her chest…

The other Lena crying and laughing, smiling and frowning, joyful and distraught…

“You’re you…”, the other Lena said…

“And that’s even worse than Magica.”

Lena tried to speak but no words formed.

The other Lena suddenly pushed Lena off the cliff, her family suddenly appearing, waving goodbye as she soared down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down no hope no hope all is lost all is lost it’s over it’s over I’m lost I’m lost life lost life lost love torn love gone love lost love found love taken pain granted wishes of pain slit and desist and stop and never come back the guilt is you and you are the guilt and your actions never lose their impact you try to swim but you sink because the depths of your shame know no limit and the folly of redemption is but a tick an illusion a n empty promise like your meaningless existence daring you to be anything more than what you are but you know you can’t because to your great and everlasting fault you are no one but…

“Me”

But just before Lena can finally sink to the bottom of the sea and gain everything by losing it all…

“Hey, Lena.”

Violently waking up, as if nothing had happened, Lena gasps and turns around suddenly, the voice now not belonging to herself but to…

Louie Duck.

“…Sup?”

Lena takes a moment to visualize her surroundings.

The Moon men ships are soaring in the sky, the grass is blowing softly near her feet and Louis is standing next to her, hands in his pockets.

The nightmare is over. She really is back.

But was that a good thing?

Right now, though, she didn’t have time to process the raw trauma she had just experience, since Louie was next to her, and she wanted to get rid of him before he caught on.

Taking a deep breath and trying her best to hide the terror and resignation from her voice, Lena said “…Hey Louie.”

Louie kept his hands in his hoodie pockets, a blank expression on his face.

It was hard to tell what he was really feeling, and usually that blank expression was accurate, but one got the feeling that this time it was an act.

“So… You watching the moon people leave?”

Lena nodded, hoping that would be good enough of an answer.

“All alone on this hill?”

Apparently, it wasn’t good enough of an answer.

“I’ve gotta get rid of him!”, Lena thought, calculating options quickly. “Maybe a barb will shut him up.”

“What’s the matter?”, she asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Aren’t you busy taking over McDuck Enterprises and sending it down the toilet?”

Louie took it in stride, but Lena could tell that he was hiding his true feelings about that day. “Hey, that was last week. I’m a changed duck!”

“Wow. New Louie is only one week old and already as disappointing as old Louie.”

Lena knew she was being a jerk, but right now that was easier than sharing… All that.

Besides, she didn’t really have a relationship with Louie.

Sure, he had helped her with her nightmares, and she’d forever be in his debt for that, but that was about it.

“Oh, man.”, Lena thought, the hole in her chest hurting. “I sound like such an asshole.”

Louie however, did not take the insult that hard.

“Mind if I sit down?”

Lena did mind.

But it seemed like Louie would not take no for an answer.

Besides, she could just avoid it, she’d done it before!

So Lena patted the ground next to her, not daring to look at Louie out of fear that he’d see through her mask.

“Sit down, the grass is fine.”

So he sat down next to her, albeit with his back to her.

And for a while, the two ducklings did nothing but sit and breath, Lena’s heart hurting and Louie’s mind working overtime.

There were still a few moon people embarking their crafts, but they would all be gone soon, and Lena would have no excuse to stay.

She tried to come up with some kind of way to kick Louie out, but her mind came up with blanks, instead continuing to quietly and slowly hurl more and more guilt onto her.

Suddenly, Louie broke the silence. “…Why are you really sitting here?”

Lena didn’t want to answer.

So she said nothing.

Louie sighed. “Silent treatment?”

Lena still said nothing.

Louie sniffed for a moment, blinking at the clouds. “…Look, if you’re not going to tell me what’s on your mind, then I’ll tell you why you should tell me.”

Lena barely stifled a dark chuckle. “I should tell you? No offense, Louie, but I find it hard to believe that you of all people hold the key to making me feel less shitty.”

Louie objected to this, of course. “Come on! You’re not even willing to give me a chance to prove myself?”

“Well, let’s see: You broke the timestream, nearly losing your family, you scammed Glomgold out of his entire company, NOT that he didn’t deserve it, and, oh, there’s the little thing of taking over Scrooge’s company and almost running it into the ground in a day.” Lena scoffed and counted on her fingers.

Louie, half jokingly and half seriously defended himself. “Ok, ok, so mistakes were made…”

“Title of your autobiography.”, Lena quipped.

“I was thinking something more like “Louie Duck: Lit and Fit with Moolah in the Mint”, but sure, “Mistakes Were Made” works too.”

And again, silence fell.

For a moment, Lena thought she had avoided it for good, but then Louis spoke again, this time with a little more emotion.

“…I really could help you. If you’d let me.”

Lena sighed, knowing that the youngest duck triplet’s intentions were good, but misguided. “Look, Louie, it’s really cool of you to try, but…”

She left that sentence hanging, but Louie didn’t need the rest of it to interpret its meaning.

That didn’t stop him from insisting. “I’m telling you, I can at least try.”

Lena, tired of waiting, turned to him, anger in her eyes. Louie could also detect damp spots in said eyes, but he decided that he’d rather not die like that. “Louie, I’m serious: Stop trying.”

Louie knew that messing with Lena was a bad idea: She could get pretty mad, and he knew that he was no match physically for her.

But it didn’t stop him from staring right back, eyes narrowed with determination.

“Why? I’m tired of taking the easy route.”

Lena laughed. “Since when?”

“Since last week!”, Louie shouted back, slight emotion crawling into his voice.

“You can’t. Change. In a week!”, Lena emphasized, talking more to herself than to Louie.

“How are you so sure? How are you so sure that you can’t?”, Louie turned the tables.

Lena groaned, frustrated with his stubbornness. “Louie, you can’t help me!”

“Why?”, he shouted back, not expecting the following event.

Lena, finally out of patience, shoved him to the ground, angry tears flying off her eyes, a red face and a shaking body above him now.

“I. CAN’T. BE. HELPED!”

Realizing what she did, she turned her back to him, clenching her fists and looking down at the ground with shame.

She wished it could swallow her whole, leaving no trace.

But to her great misfortune…

She was still alive.

Louie slowly got up, dusting himself off, not averting his gaze from her hunched back and slumped shoulders.

“…No. You can’t be helped.”

Lena knew it was true, but it didn’t stop the shiver that emcommpassed her entire body.

But Louie wasn’t finished.

“You can’t be helped if you never let yourself be helped.”

“Sometimes, I really just want to deck that kid.”, Lena thought, and she turned around, pissed.

“Louie, for god’s sake, shut up…”

“No. Not until you hear me out.”

The two were in an unofficial stand still, a sort of unspoken staring contest, both refusing to break.

Lena desperately wanted to kick him out…

But at the same time, she knew that he wouldn’t leave without having his say.

Sighing, she turned her back again, and, muttering, she murmured “Fine. What do you want to say?”

Louie cleared his throat, knowing that he was now in the homestretch. He had to nail this or he’d lose his chance to help her.

And hard as it was for even him to believe, he wanted to help her.

Twiddling his thumbs, his usual confidence absent,, he started to make his point.

“As I’m sure you know, I can be kind of… Selfish and manipulative.”

Lena shook her head, failing to believe this. “Are we seriously talking about you?”

Louie quickly intervened. “Wait, wait, hear me out!”

Lena sighed and motioned for him to go on.

Louie kicked some grass and continued. “What I was trying to say is, as you know, I can be a real jerk.”

“Real asshole.”, Lena added.

“Yeah, that too.”

“And a dick.”, Lena added, now with a dry smile.

“Ok, that’s a bit much.”, Louie protested.

“And a prick, moron and cock.”

Louie dryly looked back at her. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

“Oh, very.”, Lena admitted, enjoying the moment of relief.

Louie sighed. “Oh boy. Anyway, what I was trying to say, is that yes, I am all those things. And for a long time, I didn’t really think of the consequences of my actions.”

He started to get a little more serious, the memories of his past mistakes still a touchy matter.

Lena knew this, and she started to feel a little bad for barbing him so much. He too had regrets.

“I regret that. I regret tricking my family, I regret the timephoon, and I definitely regret taking over the company.”

Emotion broke into his voice, and Lena swore that she could hear a tear or two, but she refused to turn, still rejecting help.

That, and she didn’t want to embarrass him.

“I… I fucked up real bad.”

Lena snickered. “Gee, what a dirty mouth. You kiss your mother with that mouth, Lellwyn?”

“Oh, you bet! That dirty mouth didn’t even have that privilege until about 3 weeks ago! I’ll kiss her with my disgusting mouth as much as I want!”, Louie retorted jokingly, but Lena could tell that Louie really had missed his mom.

She wondered what that felt like.

Louie resumed his talk. “Anyhow… I… I didn’t realize I was wrong. I was sure that there was only one way in life for me: To scam everyone in my way, make it rich quick and live the easy life. But I see now that…”

He sighed. It was never easy to say this, but he had to for Lena’s sake.

“I see now that I was wrong.”

Lena sighed too. “Louie… You don’t have to be hard on yourself.”

Louie disagreed. “No. You’re wrong. I should be. I made big mistakes. And I need to fix them. And it will take time.”

Louie then smiled hopefully, a little at himself and a little at her. “But… Here’s the thing.”

He closed his eyes, feeling the wind in his hair. “The reason I’ve been able to live with myself… The reason I’m not just lying in my room hating myself for being suck a dick… Is because I took the first step towards redemption. Something you haven’t done.”

Lena raised an eyebrow, turning towards him. “…What are you talking about? What did I not do?”

Louie smiled softly, sympathy present in his eyes. “You didn’t forgive yourself.”

Lena gulped. In a way, she knew he was right, but at the same time…

“Louie… I can’t.”

“Why not?”, he asked, pressing her.

“I… I just can’t!”, Lena shot back, turning again, clutching herself, feeling cold.

“I… I’ve done too much. I’ve… I’ve fallen too far down.”

“No. You. Haven’t.”

Lena growled. “Louie, you don’t know what I’ve gone through.”

“Of course not. But answer me this: Did you choose to steal the number one dime?”

Lena turned to him, hands on her hips. “Uh, duh! Of course I did!”

“No, Magica did. You only did it because she told you to.”

“That doesn’t change what I did!”, Lena protested, attacking herself.

“Yes it does! You were being led astray by an abusive family figure! It’s a perfect excuse, ‘cause it’s not an excuse! It’s fucking abuse!”

Lena shook her head, not wanting to fool herself into believing. “Louie, even if that’s true…”

“Did you choose to make the money shark? Or the shadow war? Did you choose to let your body be taken over?”, Louie asked, disgust laced in his voice.

“Well…”, Lena had to admit, he was making a good point.

But she still felt so guilty.

“Well, I guess I…”

“No, no guessing. Yes or no.”

“But…”

“Yes or no.”

“Wait, I…”

“Yes. Or. No.”

“Listen, ok, it’s not that simple…”

Lena was spiraling, and Louie refused to budge.

“Yes or no, Lena! It IS simple!”

“No, it’s not!”

“Answer me!”

Lena shook and her head throbbed and her heart pounded and…

“Did you choose to be made?”

That was it. That was the million dollar question.

But the prize was most definitely not cash.

“NO, OK? I DIDN’T CHOOSE IT! I DIDN’T CHOOSE TO LIVE!”

Lena collapsed to her knees, weeping, not caring anymore who saw.

“I…”, she started weakly, her breath cold, her body aching.

“I didn’t choose to live. I didn’t ask for all of this.”

Louie stepped up to her, a look of pure sympathy painted on him. “…Exactly.”

Louie knelt down and embraced her, which surprised her. They were not huggers.

“Don’t dismember me.”, Louie asked, and Lena couldn’t help but smile at that.

“No promises…”, she said, through the tears.

Louie separated from the hug and gazed into her eyes.

“Lena… I get why you feel guilty. You almost hurt all the people you love, you helped an evil witch, and you nearly became her.”

He smiled encouragingly. “But you’re not. You were forced to do all this. You were being manipulated. Hurt. Controlled.”

Lena started listening, almost willing to accept it all.

“None of that was your fault. As you said, you didn’t ask for any of this: Magica did.”

Lena shook her head. “So what? That doesn’t absolve me for life.”

“Of course not. But…”

Louie nodded slowly. “You have something you didn’t have before. Something Magica never gave you.”

Lena stuttered out a question. “…W-What?”

“…A choice.”

The wind blew and the birds chirped and Lena took a deep breath.

“A choice?”, she asked.

Louie nodded, sitting down next to her. “I could choose to keep scamming. But I want to work hard from now on. I want to earn my riches. I want to do it the right way.”

He shrugged. “And if I don’t choose to do that, if I choose to revert to type, well… I’m choosing to be what I hate. I’m choosing to be the version I’m ashamed of.”

Lena nodded.

“I’m not saying you’re bad. ‘Cause you’re not. But if you decide that you are bad, well… You’ll never have a chance to be good.”

Louie smiled. “We’re all willing to forgive you, Lena. You’re family. But… Are you willing to forgive yourself?”

Lena hated to admit it… But he was right.

“Wow. You actually said something that didn’t piss me off.”

Louie laughed. “Yeah, I know, shocking.”

Lena suddenly hugged him.

“Woah.”, he exclaimed, surprised by this.

Lena now had happy tears. “Thanks for talking to me.”

She wiped the tears away as she separated herself from him. “…I know that… That I didn’t choose to do these things.”

She looked down in shame. “But I can’t help and feel like I did.”

Louie nodded. “The only way out is to forgive yourself. You’re not even giving yourself a chance to get better.”

Lena fearfully asked the question that terrified her: “…What if I still go bad?”

Louie sighed. “You won’t. You’re better than you think you are. You helped us all eve under Magica’s control. You’re a great person. Now it’s time to let yourself be that person.”

Lena looked back at the clouds.

Forgiving herself couldn’t be easy..

She still felt all the things she had done… No. All the things she had been forced to do.

Well… If that’s the case…

Then she hasn’t had a chance to actually BE bad.

Which mean, in a sense…

“I have a blank slate.”, she uttered quietly.

And if that was true…

Then…

Then there WAS hope.

If she had a blank slate, then she had just as much of a chance of ending up good as she did ending up bad.

For the first time in her life…

Lena had a choice.

Lena could try again.

One more chance.

Tears flowed down as Lena realized she could be who she wants to be.

She COULD.

And, despite spending so many years in the company of magic, that was the most magical thing she had ever seen.

“There really is still hope…”

Lena slowly stood up, following the last alien ship as it began to leave.

Closing her eyes, she projected all the mistakes she had made.

All the terrible things that she was forced to do.

Magica wasn’t her…

She was an illness.

To fight an illness, one must accept that it isn’t who they are.

But also…

To choose to fight it.

Lena could see that she could be good.

But she could never be good, be happy…

If she didn’t forgive herself.

A hand softly landed over her heart.

“…I didn’t choose to be like that. And I choose not to be.”

She closed her eyes tight. “From now on… I choose to be me. The real me.”

She smiled.

“I give myself… A chance.”

And that’s what she did, as her guilt flew away to the moon, far far away.

And as one last tear flowed down, Lena felt it.

Hope.

It would take time… Time to heal. To discover herself. To shut the voice down.

But…

One day…

She’d be good.

And she’d be happy.

And she’d be… Herself.

And that was truly magical.

#ducktales #ducktales fanfiction #Lena #lena ducktales #ducktales louie #ducktales season 2 #violet sabrewing #lena saberwing #saberwing sisters #moonvasion #lenasmagic

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avryujin-blog · 5 years

Text

solo. | alternate selves doesn’t mean being the same person.

The news of a new world that gone down to shit reached his ears and he could frankly give less of a damn. It wasn’t like this was his world. And even if others were dying and the world was going down to shit, Ryujin was a person that had gone through so much that all this just seemed like another day. Yeah, sure, maybe he’s going to lose someone he cared for in this mess but would that even be the first? But another self? Another him? He’d seen glimpses from Death, who wanted to show him how ‘special’ he was. So many versions, all living more normal lives than he did. Which meant that whoever he saw wasn’t really him, not really, because that man did not suffer the things he did. No, he had an easier life. He probably still had people with him. Maybe. Whatever. He then spot a man in his thirties, locks longer than his own and tied into a low ponytail. Deep eye bags, scars riddling him, decked in a suit ready to go to war. The sniper rifle case by his back, the guns and knives holstered to his side. But when they locked gazes the differences were much more stark. A blazing determination, the straight and vigilant way he held himself, and the lips thinned to a line—a contrast to his own calm blues, lazy slouch, and a lopsided grin holding a cigarette in between teeth.

“‘Ello there, nice to see I do age fine. But that’s to be expected ‘cuz, I’m hot—duh.” He began, a light chuckle out of his lips as he looked at the other, an air of nonchalance enveloping him as per usual. By the corner of his eyes he could see some more startled people, probably NPCs of the 616 land. Maybe they were shooketh because he could already tell this other him was a total hard ass.

Heck, other him was looking at him with wide eyes. But he seemed to snap out of it, but before he could say anything, Ryujin raised a hand and took his moonshine out to take a gulp, before putting it back with a refreshing sigh “Oops, sorry there, you were taking your sweet ass time and the moonshine was calling for me.” “You—.” 616 him choked out, and Ryujin merely charmingly smiled. “Are you really the other me? How could you be so...” “Hot? Amazing? Completely wonderful to be around with?” He butts in, walking up to the stranger who shared a similar face, smirking up to the other he gave out a puff of smoke right at his face which cause the other man to cough and step back, glaring at Ryujin. “Listen kiddo, we may be alternate versions but we’re not each other. So, I’m Ryujin, Kazuki Ryujin. Just in case you have a different name ‘cuz I was adopted thanks.” The other him sputtered a bit, before pointing out “I’m older than you! You look like you’re in your twenties and I’m in my thirties. And you were—” The man paused, a conflicted expression in his face before he continued with a heavy sigh. “I’m Jinseok, Shin Jinseok.” “Ooh~ we share the Jin syllable!” He chirped, rocking on his heels instead of adopting the stiff position that Jinseok held. “And cute, you weren’t adopted! And even more adorable, you think you’re older! Honey, I look like I’m in my twenties but your 6700 years too young to tell me that you’re older than me, ‘kay sweetie?” Jinseok gaped, and Ryujin merely laughed. The scarred man stumbled a bit, weakly mentioning “But I have enhanced marksmanship so how did you...?” Ryujin rolled his eyes, taking another drag from his cigarette but being more polite as he puffed out the toxic smoke away from the other’s face. Looking down at the shadows, he knew that even if he was in this new world, she’s watching. Grinning bitterly down at the darkness under his feet, he looked back with a shrug “Immortality’s a bitch. And didn’t I tell you already? We may be another version of each other but I’m one of a kind.” “You’re...immortal...?” Another conflicted expression, before it steeled into that of steeliness and realization “Can’t you do something more then? You don’t have to fear death and you can go help others out but all you’ve been doing is standing about doing...nothing!” “Yeah, so?” Was Ryujin’s bland response, not caring how offended the other looked. “Dude, I joined this dumb academy for the free bed. I’ll help when I want to help. And I don’t fear Death, I despise Death.” The easy-going demeanor momentarily changed to one of venom, one that even caused Jinseok to flinch. And Ryujin lets loos a bark of hollow laughter, taking the other’s face by the chin with his hand. He wondered if he’s been hanging out with Death too much, or maybe that seeing a face like his own just caused his self-loathing to fester and be vindictive “But you’re afraid of Death aren’t you? And you must have such a good heart wanting to save everyone. But that’s ‘cuz they’re your people and you care for them all huh? Now, let me just repeat this: I’m not you. I went through my own shit. This whole bullshit you’re dealing with? Not my problem. The kids that are suffering now? Hm, maybe I care enough for some but you know what they aren’t? People from my time. My world’s been long gone already, had been for four years. And now I just want my time to chill and not give a fuck.” His hold tightened, he didn’t care if he made an audience. Ryujin would help people when he wanted to which was more often than not what goes on, but he also just could care for so much less. Because Ryujin’s tired. He’s exhausted, had been since he was 14. And now this asshole thinks he can walk up to him and tell him what to do? Just because they were another version of each other didn’t make them the same. This kid didn’t have to deal with Death after all. “You’re lucky you can die, I’m jealous of that.” He sighed in the end, letting go of Jinseok who drew back, disbelieving, wide eyes looking at him. He must be horrified to know that there was a him that existed which went so much against his morals. But Ryujin didn’t really care what Jinseok thinks. He took out his cigarette, killing it under his feet. “You’re still so young and foolish, but when you lose everything you’ll realize the end was the best peace one could ever gain.” He smiled at the other, at ease once again. With a wave, he left the stunned Jinseok without a care. In the end, Ryujin will always be aware that no matter what would happen—he’d remain standing alone. Truly, Jinseok was a lucky fool.

I could make this longer, I could make a version from Jinseok’s pov, but ajsndad so much to write OTL. Anyways some plots if interested:

interactions with jinseok. but also wtf he’s so different from ryujin? like an actual decently lucky guy, super serious, very determined to be a good hero and has enhanced marksmanship instead of immortality. overall, completely different down to the name and life they had.

you saw this shit go down and decide to talk to ryujin. maybe it’s just the whole not my problem spiel that got to you. or maybe it’s like dude that was the other you? tf.

maybe some gun/sniper training from jinseok.

idk but like so i can get to ur ims and we can discuss more???

#threads. | if you love me do end me.#solo. | alternate selves doesn't mean being the same person.#tw: mentions of death #( aka ryujin's a special snowflake w his own issues so pls fck off other him )#hq:earth616

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takaraphoenix · 6 years

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How much do I have to pay you to know every aspect of Sanders personality and his relationships (like friends and family) with anyone significantly important in his life

*cracks knuckles* Okay. Let’s do this.

I kinda already covered his relationship with his sisters in one… or two… prior asks.

Carry, even though she doesn’t like admitting it, follows him a bit around like a puppy. She is super proud of her big brother, but she also snarks at him and Really Sucks at showing her feelings.

Cally and Sander, mostly inseparable. Have always been, despite how different they are. And going on quests together - with Bianca Maria and Sam - had helped bring them closer together. Which is why her joining the hunt hurt, but Sander also just wants his important people to be happy and he knows this makes her happy.

Sander loves both his parents, but he’s closer to Chris. They do pranks and thievery together and Chris is the one with the open ear for emotional things - and Sander is very emotional.

Him and Clarisse find their own way of bonding through training. Sometimes, Sander hated that he wasn‘t a legacy of Ares like his sisters and he felt like that put a certain distance between himself and his mom. So he always worked extra hard, because he wanted to make her proud.

He’s super proud of his grandma and adores her. Which. I think I’ve never actively used Captain la Rue before, but yeah, I headcanon that even though Clarisse is a year-rounder, her mother is still alive. Caroline la Rue is a soldier, so she’s rarely stateside. But Caroline definitely adores all her grandchildren. And even though grandparents aren‘t supposed to pick favorites… I’m sorry have you seen those puppy-eyes? Sander was such an adorable, clingy kid, while Cally was rather independent from an early age on. So it’s hard not to get super attached to him.

Sander hero-worships his honorary uncle Percy and Percy did play a huge role in raising the kids - because Percy is über-mom, while Clarisse is “Oh good lords, how do I make them stop crying?!”-mom. I do imagine that Percy did not just a lot of babysitting but also subtly helping Clarisse, after all twins for her first pregnancy is a bit… much.

But Sander‘s favorite uncles are, of course and unbeatably so, the Stolls. He loves Connor and Travis. The Stolls used to pull off all those pranks together with Sander and Chris and they are the most amazing, awesome uncles ever, if you were to ask Sander.

Which is why he kind of sees himself as a big brother-type to Hunt and Heist when the Stolls adopt the twins. He loves teaching the twins all the tricks he learned from their senior tricksters and seeing the awe in their eyes.

For a long while, Sander insisted on being in the Ares Cabin, because both of his sisters were there and he didn’t want to be alone. That changed after the big quest and he actually became cabin-head of Hermes Cabin.

Sander has two best friends.

Though, he loves them both, Sam just takes gold. That’s… Hercules Grace is aware of that (and okay with that. Don’t forget the giant-ass crush Herc has on Sam *snickers*). After all, Hercules is Roman and Sander Greek so they don’t get to always see each other. So it’s totally fine that Sander has another best friend - because Herc does too, in Loki, the son of Mercury.

Who, by the way, also a close friend of Sander’s. When in New Rome, Sander loves hanging out with Herc and Loki, as well as Nico and Blance of course.

Nico, totally his favorite cousin. He loves watching her tinker.

Though, honestly, Sander is just such a sweet, loyal, lovable puppy… He kind of gets along with everyone. While there are those certain friend groups - Nico, Herc, Loki, Blance and Kara in New Rome, the Sons of War, the constellation of Erik, Jonas, Chuck and Victor, the group around Derek, Rainbow, Stella and Melissa - he kind of has his fingers in them all. There is no group that doesn’t enjoy having him tag along.

Now, as just mentioned, the Sons of War.

They, of course, have a particularly close bond. Sander, Sam, Trend and Marshall. They have worked hard to become the heroes they are now.

But still, Sam is his very important best friend. They are a heart and a soul (…do you say that in English? Somehow it doesn’t sound right in English. Oh well).

Now that we covered family and friends, let’s move on to lovers.

His first relationship was with Derek, between 2027 and 2028. They were 12 at the time. By the way, ages of their dating history can be solemnly blamed on me sucking at math. I had already mapped out their previous relationships and written about them by the time math caught up with me and went all “Oh shit. They’re super young”.

But we’re in the future and let’s say all my friends already also had their first partners when they were 12/13, not to mention the Graeco-Romans are not exactly known for chastity, sooo… Look past it.

Sander is the only person aside from Sam that Derek is super fond of and that Derek would fight for. Because Derek knows that this war-boy is a sweetie at heart.

In 2028, after the breakup, Sander and Sam started their… thing. They were never officially dating, but over the following three years they continuously had hook-ups - though they started just out with heavy kissing and making out in the aftermath of fights. It’s always been a quest-exclusive thing. “What happens in the tent stays in the tent”, so to speak.

But always only when neither of them were in relationships, of course. Because Sander doesn’t cheat (and neither does Sammy).

Sander’s second relationship was in 2029 with Jonas Meyer, a son of Enyalios. A very soft boy despite being a son of war. It was the first time that Sander was more in a… traditional protector-boyfriend-role. And even though the two of them broke up, they’re still friends. Though not the closest - after all, Jonas went and formed his own little pseudo Sons of War group with Erik, Chuck and Victor.

Sander had his first girlfriend in 2030 with Stella Ribeiro. The daughter of Aphrodite knew what she wanted and she got it. They were a typical Golden Couple kinda deal; the jock and the cheerleader. The great hero and his doting, caring girlfriend.

(Sometimes, it amazes Sander that Stella and Jonas ended up together.)

So, aside from Jonas, Sander always picked rather bossy lovers who took the lead in the relationship. Derek, Stella, Donny. He’s always been more of a follower than the daring one who cockily seduces someone. That’s just not in his nature.

And after Stella, well, Donny. And that is its own story, literally.

(Fun fact: If Sonny wouldn’t have gotten together in Chasing Fireflies, Sander would have most likely started dating Phyl Rosenberg for a little whiler. Endgame still Sonny, of course.)

Now, as mentioned, Sander is very emotional. He… feels a lot. He’s soft, despite trying so hard to be a Son of War, despite being the biggest hero of Camp Half-Blood of his generation.

He adores Donny. He always adored Donny. Sure, he also started seeing Donny in a sexual way when they got older, but mainly he just… worships the ground Donny walks on. He always thought Donny was out of his league, which believe me Donny would tell you is totally ridiculous.

Sander is fiercely protective of the people he loves. And he loves a lot of people. He’s actually… a lot like Percy there. He loves and cherishes his friends and wants to keep them all safe at all times.

Weird things about Sander.

You know how I prefer my archetypical top and bottom definitions, where yeah depending on who they’re partnered with they would then instead end up bottoming for a “more top” kind of character, but generally I am very anime about seme/uke definitions. Sue me.

Sander is a character that if you asked me top/bottom, I would say “switch”. Sure, he tops for Donny, but he bottomed for Derek, he bottomed for Sam but nowadays would then rather top for Sam. He just generally doesn’t care.

He’s definitely a little more subby, because he prefers to let his partners take the lead. So if you ever want to see BDSM with Sonny, I’m afraid you’re not gonna get what you’d expect because Donny would totally dom the heck out of his boyfriend. Which. So confusing for me personally because I generally always write the top as the dom and the bottom as the sub.

Sander is not a good student, but he works very hard and attends college to get his dreamjob at the Demigod Protective Services. And not just that, he actually ends up becoming the new head once Nico is forced to retire by his husband (What? Percy wants some Nico-time too).

Important dates:

Sander was born on the 31st March 2015, with his twin-sister Calandra.

Sander and Donny got together on the 28t August 2032 and they got married on the 22nd December 2032.

After graduation, Sander and Donny move to New York together with Trend, Derek and Sam to study, but they’re not quite happy there so they return to New Athens, where they end up sharing a duplex house that has a connecting door.

Donny and Sander have seven kids - one set of twins and one set of triplets. Aaand they lived happily ever after.

#anonymous #sander rodriguez #sonny #chasingverse #fic: chasing fireflies #percy jackson and the olympians #next gen #pjoverse #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus

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med-blahg · 6 years

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2017: Year in Review pt. 1/??

After compiling most of the notable pictures of the year and hoping to make a nice twitter thread as is the bandwagon, I’ve decided to do this year-end reflection survey instead, since a) I was a bit too lazy to organize my thoughts, and b) surveys!!! This was the shit back in the multiply days.

What one event, big or small, are you going to tell your grandchildren about?

I’m going to cheat on this a bit because two events came to mind.

TRP - Two-peat Championship! Once again, batch 2020 proved itself legendary. TRP chorale season was extra memorable this year because I ran for the position of Music Head. Fed, my predecessor, warned me that scheduling rehearsals was especially a logistical nightmare, with last year’s different schedules for Blocks A and B. What more for LU5′s eight blocks, right?

I think there were three main challenges we had to go through for this to happen. The first was the very beginning -- the creation of the song itself. There was an added pressure since our piece last year was deemed the best, and even the same composer and arranger had a difficult time creating one for our last chance to grace the stage. We had two nights of brainstorming at Fed’s place (with free Angel’s pizza... and an out-of-post PER ICC huhu).

As far as I remember, he was already on his fifth or so attempt to make a song as the first ones garnered negative reviews. It was hard to get inspiration unlike last year where he was just especially moved after a lecture in Ther. In his words, pigang piga na siya. We were also having creative differences which really hindered us from making any real progress. Fortunately, on the second night, we finally overcame this with a switch to major chords and a great concept from James, giving birth to our wonderful chorus with the lines,

Bawat segundong nilaan, bawat hirap nalampasan,

Katumbas ng buhay na maliligtas.

...which tied very well with the theme, Orasa: Ang Dakilang Maestro.

The second challenge was actually a personal one. I got a taste of this logistical nightmare that Fed spoke of. It was particularly nerve-wracking especially for an irresponsible person like me, who has always clung to the clutch life. Getting venues for rehearsals was the main problem for this. Our choices were limited (MSU, Paz Men, Student Lounge, Tipunan) and in high demand, because many groups had to rehearse for TRP. It was my first time to attempt reserving a Paz Men room, which was surprisingly a lot of work -- needing to go to the Dean’s Office to check the availability of the rooms, go all the way up to the eighth floor of PGH to get it approved, go to the Cashier’s Office in OUR, and then go back to the Dean’s Office for them to confirm the payment, and then finally to Paz Men to submit the permit. But wait, there’s more! It actually cost a lot of money, which was the worst part, for me. #WeNeedSpace !!! I used my own money, which I was going to reimburse, but then we won, so... yeah, my treat then. (No one knew anyway heheh.) After all that, Paz Men obviously got scrapped from possible venues. I then had to coordinate with the MSC and MedChoir to get the free ones, being careful not to affect the batch dance schedule as much as possible.

You can then imagine getting all that work done, albeit very crammed which was entirely my fault, and then getting a poor turnout for rehearsals with just mere weeks before the competition (oh and that stupid ASEAN week which took more precious time away), to be quite disappointing, to say the least. The schedules of the different blocks and other TRP practices just couldn’t fit. This leads us to the third problem, which was to get the class motivated. This was my first reason for running to head the whole thing anyway -- I really just wanted to get the class together and to sing their hearts out once again! Thankfully, with a few motivational messages from me and our conductor, Joker, that I’m sure every one in the batch admired and respected, the attendance started going up, with one week to go.

My babies. (Sorry for the distorted faces.)

One of the final practices in particular really just transformed the song. I asked the class to do a simple exercise of singing to each other. They had to stand in a circle so they could look at each other’s faces. It was funny and awkward at first, but it was the first time I heard the piece sung with heart, and I knew they felt it too!

There were some issues with the final scoring during the competition itself, and I honestly wasn’t quite sure how to take it. But seeing how my batchmates rejoiced and hearing the audience do the winner clap (THIS IS LEGIT THOUGH HEHE) made me feel like we really deserved the win. Very grateful for the talented and hardworking music team and my bibo batchmates!

Abendlied: An Evening of Songs for the Benefit of Patients with Systemic Lupus Erythematosus -- our year-end concert for A.Y. 2016-2018. It was my first time to sing for a benefit concert. We took this opportunity not only to share our love for choral music, but also to spread awareness of SLE, a rather common condition found in PGH. I was very proud of how big this event has gotten -- thanks to sponsored boosts and our first time to get media partners (and, admittedly, our high ticket prices), we were able to procure a few hundred thousands, a part of which was donated to the PGH Lupus Club.

UP MedChoir always has a lot of major and minor events like these, but I’d choose this to share to my grandkids because in this concert, I really felt that I was blessed with talent that could help others. (Oh, which just reminded me of something, haha. Maybe it’ll get featured later, or in some other post.)

If you had to describe your 2017 in 3 words, what would they be?

Mistakes, lessons, cycle. I repeatedly did a shit ton of mistakes this year, with repercussions not only for me, but regrettably to the people around me. This came with the responsibilities I chose to accept this year. But heck, I’m proud of myself for accepting and embracing these new roles. I was brave enough to challenge myself. #characterdevelopment

What new things did you discover about yourself?

Oh, man. Haha. One of the things I discovered was that I am quite quick to forgive and forget. And then one day, some stimulus will come that will take me all the way back to when it hurt. A lot. Many of the tears shed this year were still in relation to the past aches of 2016.

What single achievement are you most proud of?

I am proud of always finding reasons to stay.

For one, there was a time when I really, really wanted to quit MedChoir. I felt that it was taking too much of my time and energy, and was also taking a toll on my mental health. There were many days with triggers, days where I just couldn’t manage to perform well, days where I was always on the brink of crying during rehearsals. It’s not supposed to be that way, I thought. There has to be another reason of staying besides the fact that I was needed. But then I saw some post saying that continuous pressure can make you hate doing the things you love. I have forgotten what turned me around during this time -- probably my friends, or taking a step back to appreciate the music like I once did. Or just the energy that we get from each other. Whatever it was, I’m glad I stayed.

I’m also proud of myself for staying in med school. Not that I actually have the choice to leave anyway, what with the millions my family would have to pay. But the thing is, I actually want to stay now. (Well, most of the time.) I’ve always feared that maybe the doctor life isn’t for me, but this ICC year has proven otherwise. Although a big factor of this is that we’re still babies in the hospital, the mere baby steps of actually enjoying interviewing, examining, and just getting to know patients was life-changing for me.

What was the best news you received?

I can think of two off the top of my head. The first, that one of our Christmas gigs got us an unexpected @@ thousand pesos (so that was around @@ thousand per song... what???), and the second was the news that one of my aunts was going to adopt a baby. This has some MMK style plot behind it, by the way -- politics, cheating, and whatnot. It didn’t push through, though. I hope that baby lives well.

What was your favourite place that you visited in 2017?

South Korea, no question!!!

1) Day 4 - The Garden of the Morning Calm. This day was my favorite. Our morning was spent in the astoundingly beautiful Nami Island. Picturesque. Trees, nature, ...and a very ideal place for dating, haha! For all ages pa. We saw couples young and old, holding hands while walking. This was where we made a pact that we’ll go back to Korea when we all got our own SO’s. That night we went to The Garden of the Morning Calm, where I thought the expanse of land decorated with lights just wouldn’t end! It really seemed like a different world back there.

2) Day 2 - Palace hopping! We went to the Gyeongbokgung and Changdeokgung Palaces. We joined the free English guided tour of the places and learned a lot. We even joked about making it like an SGD, like the bibo kids we are, hungry for learning. Haha! Photo (c) Bana

3) Day 1 - My travel buddies, Bana and Reg. For our first day, we walked around the makeup and skincare heaven that is Myeongdong and ate a lot of oh so glorious streetfood.

4) Day 3 - We went to the Namsan Tower to cap off the day... Featuring the toilet that got away.

I’m so so so glad this trip pushed through, na nakaldkad ako nina Bana and Reg to this land! I wasn’t even a hardcore Kdrama fan and I think I was initially invited just because Gio was supposed to go as well, haha. But these two welcomed me to their group, and it was such a beautiful experience! Lots of walking, sites, damn Korean couples, and food!!!!!!!!!!! These pictures are just a preview of the places we’ve been to, and the photoshoots we have so shamelessly done. Here’s our itinerary from Bana’s blog, and photos from Bana’s album, and my album!

Which of your personal qualities turned out to be the most helpful this year?

I honestly don’t know, haha. Whenever I’m asked about my strengths, I tend to think of my weaknesses instead. For this, maybe the best answer is my openness to try new things. Or just that I really tend to appreciate some people and experiences in my life. I’m in no way consistent in any of these qualities, but during the occasions that I am such, I could really feel the difference.

Who was your number one go-to person that you could always rely on?

This constant used to be Gio. After he left, I can’t say that I really have that single go-to person. Nevertheless, I could often rely on #clingy2020 and our thorough SGD’s whenever we’re going through a rough patch. I will specially mention my beshie Ian, who could always make me have a good laugh and at the same time discuss the not-so-lighter things in life.

Okay, I didn’t expect this post to be this long haha. I haven’t even gone through half of the questions yet! I guess I’ll do this in parts instead. Next year na yung iba. (He he he.)

#2017 #medschool #medchoir #life #i need better tags lol

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augustmoon259 · 3 years

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For I shall already have forgotten you INTERMISSION: America

When Canada disappeared, suddenly everyone remembered his existence. America had called England and France first about Canada's disappearance. They already knew.

Why would they remember Canada after just having forgotten him earlier that day? Then he got calls from countries that didn't even attend the world meetings: Ukraine, Cuba, Netherlands. They all wanted to know: where's Matthew?

America found it bitterly ironic that it took Canada disappearing entirely for the world to notice his absence.

Almost every country searched for Canada, for the one who wanted to be noticed yet never could. America was surprised that even countries Canada hadn’t been very close to, participated in the search for him.

Meanwhile, the Canadian government was relentless.

Canada's phone never turned on again after that day in the hotel. But even so, America was reluctant when he scrapped it. All he had left now was Canada's glasses.

He promised to return them when they met again.

ii.

America never gave up. One by one, the countries had abandoned their search, until he was the last. He searched in his own country; he searched in Canada's. Yet he never found a trace of his northern neighbor.

He was desperate to find Canada. What if he forgot him again? Forgot that a personification of Canada had ever even existed? America's search brought him to someone unexpected.

It was Canada's bear. Kumajirou. America recalled how Kumajirou was always with Canada. If he found Kumajirou, then his owner could not be far behind.

America's search took him straight into polar bear territory. He was expecting a cub, not a full grown adult. He had been threatened by another bear when this one appeared to protect him. If that wasn't enough to convince him it was Kumajirou, his capability of human speech did.

"Who are you?"

That familiar question, but an unfamiliar voice. It was no longer a childlike voice, but a mature and deep one. Kumajirou seemed as if he wanted him to be Canada. The bear was disappointed when he revealed himself to be otherwise.

Clearly Canada had not been here either. Despite himself, America came back. Kumajirou was another remnant of Canada, a hope that Canada would return.

Yet bears do not live as long as humans. How then could they live as long as a country? Without Canada, Kumajirou began to age. Every year that America visited, he'd be older. His fur became shaggier, his movements more dull.

America was no stranger to death. None of the countries were. But Kumajirou’s death brought with it a pain he thought long gone, back when he had only just started to understand what mortality truly meant.

iii.

Eighteen years passed like this. After Kumajirou’s death, America officially retired his search for Canada. None of his wanderings had borne fruit. Kumajirou had been his last lead, and even that had ended in failure and disappointment.

The mention of Canada was a sore topic among the countries. His disappearance left too many unanswered questions behind, like why he had disappeared in the first place. The personification was gone, but the nation itself did not simply cease to be.

Even his presence at world meetings, or rather lack thereof, inspired guilt among the countries. America most of all.

How must Canada have felt, being ignored by those who were supposedly his friends and allies? America thought of this, and realized he never truly knew who Canada was.

As far as he could recall, it was always Canada who made time for him, never vice versa. And when they were with each other, America still made it all about himself.

Is that who Canada was? Someone reusable, interchangeable...disposable?

No. Canada was...a country. He’s strong, and brave. Smart, and intelligent. He’s not someone to be looked down upon, and America could attest to that fact.

If he was being honest with himself, he envied Canada. Canada had a way with words America did not, and it was Canada who had peacefully gained his independence from England. Canada, who got along with just about everyone.

There was also a time when Canada had been too shy to talk to America, so he relayed what he wanted to say to England instead. That had been awkward for the both of them, but now America felt the roles were reversed.

This time, there’d be no intermediary. The words he wanted to say to Canada, if they ever met again, he hoped he could tell him face to face.

iv.

On one of the occasions America had a break from work, he was back in his capital, Washington D.C. These days, world meetings were more like “meetings” and less like an excuse to goof off.

But there’s no rest for the wicked. There had been a worrying uptick in crime after dark lately, particularly around the National Mall area.

America took it upon himself to catch the criminals. The local law enforcement were well aware of who he was, so he’d have no problem turning the “bad guys” in.

That night was supposed to be like any other, until he caught sight of the perpetrator dragging a lone woman into an alleyway.

Now this will be too easy…, America thought. Empty street? Check. Dim lighting? Check. Any other bystanders nearby? Nope. He cracked his knuckles in anticipation as he got ready to follow the culprit into the alley.

But hold on...who the heck is that?

There was another person sneaking into the alleyway! From the looks of it, this person was also a woman. He’d have to hurry before this would-be do-gooder becomes the next victim.

As he ran to the scene of the crime, America expected to hear shouts, sounds of struggle, or anything really, but the alley was strangely quiet. When he arrived at the entrance, he saw an unexpected sight: the woman who had brazenly went after the criminal, was now choking him!

In fact, she knocked him out so quickly that barely fifteen seconds had passed before he was on the ground, and she was rummaging through her bag for duct tape.

America stood in shocked silence, until he came to his senses as the mysterious woman was about to duct tape the felon’s legs.

“Need some help with that?”

The woman flinched, as she nearly dropped her tape in surprise. She whirled around, giving America his first good look at her face. What he saw made him breathless.

Her eyes. They were the same as his - as Canada’s. America would recognize them anywhere.

Her face too, while softer than Canada’s, bore an uncanny resemblance. And her glasses made their similarities all the more apparent.

America found himself unable to look away as they started a conversation together. She was nervous, and stuttered over her words while she introduced herself.

Her name was like Canada’s too. Madeline Williams.

Could this all be a coincidence? Perhaps. But one too many coincidences were hard to ignore.

Madeline looked like Canada, she acted like Canada, and within her, America could see that same spark of defiance. Right down to her refusal to be acknowledged for her heroism.

So he did something unexpected. He gave her his address. America observed as she left the alley, back to the metro and wherever she had come from. A vision from a waking dream.

When he arrived home, America searched for Madeline’s name on the internet out of curiosity.

He was amazed to discover that she was well known in the photography industry. Despite only being eighteen, she had years of experience with a camera. From a young age, she had already won contests and prizes.

Today, she mainly specialized in travel photography, although she was adept in other fields too.

Who was she? Why did she remind him so much of Canada? Is there a reason she appeared so abruptly in his life?

Could Madeline possibly be Canada?

...No, that was crazy. Nonetheless, America was barely able to contain his excitement the next morning as he waited for her arrival.

vi.

America realized something.

...Madeline was cute.

She liked maple with her coffee (and maple with almost anything). She liked sweets. She could talk endlessly about her favorite movies and shows or books.

But the more America got to know her, the more of a dilemma he found himself in.

It was because of his theory...that Madeline might be Canada.

These were the facts:

- Madeline’s birthday is July 1.

- She is eighteen, meaning she was born around the same time Canada disappeared.

- She has violet eyes.

And more tidbits, like her love of animals, that she played hockey and lacrosse in high school, etc.

Even the most oblivious among the countries would be able to connect the dots.

What is this then? Reincarnation? America supposed it could be possible. Humans were capable of reincarnation, so why not countries?

Then again, their origin and nature is quite murky. America did not remember much from his early days at all, before he was “discovered”.

Every country knows eventually that they exist because of their “nations” and their citizens...their people.

Because humans have more power than they realize. They can establish a country (the micronations had to have come from somewhere), just as easily as they can destroy it.

It was easier to understand how a personification of a country could be created, rather than how they “die”.

America knew that he couldn’t keep this to himself forever. It was time to tell the others.

vii.

While Madeline was off exploring and no doubt taking plenty of pictures, America sent a memo to the Allies and the Axis for a virtual conference.

Everyone was curious as they logged on to hear what America had to say.

“Look, there’s no easy way to say this, but...I think I found Canada.”

The reactions were just about as expected.

England spat out his tea, France stopped brushing his hair, Russia looked mildly interested, and China glanced at Japan. Japan adopted an expression more serious than his usual face, while Germany stopped lifting his weights. Italy was being Italy.

“What the bloody hell are you on about, America?! Canada is...Canada is gone! He’s not coming back!”

“Oui. Mon petit Mathieu...mon petit Mathieu est parti.”

“No, England. No, France. He’s not gone, and I have proof.”

America pulled up a picture he had taken of Madeline with his phone. She was holding his cat Bucky in her arms while she smiled towards the camera.

“Do you see this woman? Anything seem odd to you?”

“What about her? She looks like a nice young lady, but I -”

England's words caught in his throat as he looked closer at the picture.

“Yes, it’s true. She has violet eyes. Just like Canada’s.”

“That...that’s not definitive proof. While it’s not a common eye color, perhaps it’s a rare mutation, or she could be wearing contacts -”

“No. I noticed while she was staying over at my place that she never took them off before she went to sleep. You take off contacts before you go to sleep, don’t you?”

“Why, Amérique, I didn’t think you had it in you!”

“Ugh, it’s not like that! She had a lot of driving ahead of her the next day, so I offered to let her stay the night and rest.”

America felt exasperated at France’s antics. He sighed and looked at the eight other countries on screen.

“Aside from physical similarities, she acts a lot like Canada. She has the same birthday as him, she likes the same things he did, and I even noticed she carries a stuffed polar bear with her.”

America felt slightly melancholy at the mention of “polar bear”, remembering Kumajirou and the last moments before his passing. He’d kept the discovery of Kumajirou and Kumajirou’s demise to himself. Telling the other countries would have made no difference, or bring Canada back.

“The timeline fits, because she was born eighteen years ago.”

“And what exactly do you think we should do with this information? Supposing this woman is really Canada, what are our next steps?”

England’s eyebrows were furrowed together as he frowned. While America, France, and England were engaged in conversation, the other members of the Allies and the Axis had yet to speak up.

Japan broke the silence to offer his opinion.

“Ah, America-san, who is this woman? You have not told us her name. And if she is a human...I do not think it out of the realm of possibility that she could be Canada-san. I once had a micronation, the Republic of Niko Niko. But, he decided to become human. Would the opposite hold true?”

It took a moment for everyone to realize that Japan had spoken, and not only that, but that he spoke so much.

“Dude, Japan! You’re a genius! If countries can become humans, why not the opposite? And her name...her name is Madeline Williams. She’s a photographer.”

The next to speak up was Germany.

“Ja, I’ve got it! If Ms. Madeline can’t remember that she was once Canada, then we just have to get her to remember! She needs to meet with all of us! Maybe that will jog her memory!”

“Ve~ But Germany! Will she even want her memories back? After all, we were all so mean to Canada...we forgot about him..."

Italy’s last statement was a painful, but true reminder.

Canada felt so much loneliness and despair, that his last resort was to disappear from the world. The last thing that anyone wanted for Canada’s reincarnation was to bring back that suffering.

America clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

“I know that better than anyone! I’m supposed to be Canada’s closest ally, but I...I let him end up in that state. If Canada really doesn’t want to come back, then...Madeline won’t remember. Those memories will remain buried forever. But if they don’t...I want to apologize to Canada.”

viii.

That was how the Allies and the Axis devised a plan to bring back Canada’s memories, under the guise of an exchange program around the world.

America was unsure if this scheme of theirs would work. Since their first meeting in the alleyway, Madeline had yet to show signs of remembering her past life.

In fact, her reaction to him was by all means normal. They acted as friends did, exchanged contact information, and played games with each other, but nothing was out of the ordinary.

Halloween was almost upon them, and Madeline would be back to visit again soon.

America decided not to be a downer. He’d make this a great Halloween for Madeline.

When it came time for her to sleep over for the night, he didn’t think deeply of it. America couldn’t have predicted that Madeline would be afflicted with nightmares.

He awoke during the night because of a dry throat. It was so annoying that it prevented America from going back to sleep, at least until he got a glass of water.

After successfully downing a glass, America passed by the guest room, aka Madeline’s temporary bedroom. He would have ignored it, were it not for the sound of crying.

America entered the room, and found Madeline gasping and sobbing. He shook her awake in alarm.

“Hey! Wake up! Maddie! Wake up!”

Fortunately, she did wake up. But unfortunately, she was still distressed and not in the right state of mind. America had to use his experience with panic attacks and calming others down (or sometimes himself) to make Madeline feel better.

He was extremely lucky to have Bucky. America loved his goofball of a cat, even when the little doofus stole his hamburgers.

Bucky proved tonight that the sidekick had become the hero.

ix.

Madeline had a nightmare. Whatever it was, she was so engrossed in it that America had to literally get her to shake it off.

Is this...Canada’s memories coming back to her? America was worried this would happen.

A country’s history can’t only consist of triumphs and victories. There were losses too, and memories that still leave scars, physical and mental. America knew this. Canada did as well.

He wished the process could be less painful. If Madeline had to relive each memory like this, America believed that instead of Canada, what would be left was a traumatized Madeline.

Another thing he’d have to make up to Canada for.

Well, if America couldn’t stop this, or make it not difficult for Madeline, he had to distract her from her troubles. Soothe her aching heart and mind.

What better way than a Halloween filled with mischief and merrymaking?

Madeline was an unexpectedly good cook (because Canada always did make the best pancakes for breakfast...).

And the Little Red Riding Hood outfit Madeline wore matched perfectly with his “Big Bad Wolf'' getup. America requested Madeline wore a costume related to fairy tales, but they had somehow ended up coordinating together.

They visited his favorite cafe, then the National Air and Space Museum, and their last stop, the Smithsonian National Zoological Park.

This was going to be the highlight of Madeline’s Halloween, not that she knew it yet. America was overjoyed to see her enjoying the animal exhibits and other costumed visitors.

He’d visited this zoo hundreds of times, ever since its opening in 1889. America was no stranger to the animals here, but he still made a show of seeing them for Madeline’s benefit.

Now the next part had to be planned carefully. He hated putting Madeline on the spot and having to leave her by herself until their performance on stage, but he needed to talk to the technicians.

America was aware of the big Halloween bash the Smithsonian National Zoo held every year. An employee at the zoo tipped him off about the new addition to the costume contest.

After a month of talking to her and getting to know her, America knew that Madeline could think quickly on her feet. Even with no prior warning, she’d be able to pull off an engaging act.

But Madeline’s acting completely blew him away. She looked so carefree and happy on the stage, as if the events of the night before had never occurred.

He teased her relentlessly for it later, but it was all worth it to see her honest smile.

America hoped that after meeting the other countries, she’d still be able to smile like this.

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