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gendercraft · 3 years

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When I Fell Overboard [Chapter Eight: Never Been The Type To Trust]

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Synopsis: Sebastian struggles with his relationship with Maru as she strives to get close to him. Meanwhile, he and Elliott get closer and closer.

Trigger warnings: Panic attacks, fighting, snapping, potentially unsympathetic Robin, crying, food mention, let me know if I missed anything please

Fall came around full force. Nearly overnight, the leaves turned red and orange and yellow, crisp breeze carrying them across the cobble walkways. Pierre and Caroline had Abigail help them hang a huge sign above their entranceway advertising their ‘one of a kind’ and ‘Joja-free’ pumpkin seeds. Gus brought out a new menu, similarly pumpkin themed, but Sebastian couldn’t say he hated the spiced pumpkin mead.

He and Elliott spent most days together. Any time he had to pull himself away, either to get some alone time or catch up with Abigail and Sam, they stood behind Elliott’s closed door with their arms wrapped around each other, Sebastian safely cradled against Elliott as they promised to meet again soon.

Sebastian was falling hard. Every time he saw Elliott, he couldn’t help but smile. Elliott would do something small, like whisper an “aha!” when he figured out how to fix a plot hole, or accidentally burnt himself with his raspberry tea, or made too many crab cakes and had to share, and all Sebastian could think was, “I love you.”

It was becoming a little bit of a problem. Elliott showed no signs of feeling the same way, gave Sebastian no hints, nothing to work off of. He eventually broke and spent a good twenty minutes venting to Sam and Abigail, who stared at each other, and then him, and then each other, then Sam sighed and left the room.

“What’s his problem?” Sebastian asked, face hot.

“You. You’re an idiot.” Abigail grabbed her drumsticks. “Come on, if we start he’ll come back in.”

Abigail was spending a suspicious amount of time with Maru. Occasionally Abigail would come over while Sebastian was working and stay shut inside Maru’s room until he finished, sometimes for hours. There was an awful lot of laughing, though Sebastian couldn’t understand why.

He eventually accepted that if she and Abigail were going to be friends, Maru and Sebastian had to be a little more than civil. Not quite friends themselves, but close. So when Maru reached out, he forced himself to stop snapping back. He still didn’t like that she was so insistent on them having a good relationship, didn’t understand why she didn’t already have enough—you’re stealing my best friend and you want me, too?—but he had to let it go. He couldn’t lose Abigail. He’d die.

“Is it cool if I invite Maru with us to the saloon tonight?” Abigail asked during band practice one day.

“Sure,” Sebastian mumbled. “Oh, and Elliott gave the okay for next week.” Sebastian asked if the three of them could use his cabin to rehearse one day so they could see how their songs would sound how they were meant to, on the piano.

“Awesome.” Sam plugged his guitar into the amp with a wicked grin. “I am ready to give my mom a headache.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

After practice, they headed out to the saloon, an order of pizza and a round of beers already waiting for them. Sam gave Shane a cheerful wave and a smile, who returned it with a grunt.

Abigail hopped onto Journey of the Prairie King, cussing the arcade machine out while Sebastian killed Sam in pool. Elliott showed up to drink his share of the beer and wrap his arms around Sebastian’s shoulders from behind. Sebastian blushed under everyone’s stares, but couldn’t bring himself to push Elliott away. It always made Sebastian so happy when Elliott touched him, a feeling of me, he’s choosing me. He could have anyone else right now and he’s choosing me.

It was hard to push aside the dread piercing Sebastian’s stomach when Maru came through the saloon doors. He focused on the game, not meaning to ignore her but trying to act casual and, well, taking it too far.

“Hey, Sebastian.” Maru smiled.

He glanced up. “Hey.”

They stared for a moment, then Maru stepped aside to join Abigail at the machine.

“So how are things going with you?” Elliott asked, giving him space to shoot.

Sebastian bent over the table slightly with his pool cue. His tongue poked between his lips as he analyzed the set up, then moved and shot, hitting three of his balls into the holes and knocking aside two of Sam’s.

“Damnit!” Sam side. “Fuck, Seb.”

Sebastian grinned. Then he remembered Elliott’s question and it faded. “Right. Um… fine, I guess? I mean, she’s here, right?”

Elliott nodded slowly. “Right… is she still asking for your help with the robot?”

“Yeah. Every other day, pretty much.”

“Why don’t you help her?” He rested a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder.

“She doesn’t need my help,” Sebastian muttered.

“I think she does,” Elliott said gently.

Sebastian shook his head and leaned against the pool table while Sam considered his move with a snail’s pace.

“What does it matter?” Sebastian asked in frustration. “I thought you were staying out of it, remember?”

Elliott smiled nervously. “Right.”

They played a little while longer, until Sebastian won and they were all tipsy. They stumbled out the saloon doors, milling around for a second while they figured out who was going with who.

“Did you still want to see those videos of the Stardew caves?” Abigail asked, shyer than usual.

Maru nodded with a smile. “I have a good computer. Wanna spend the night?”

She nodded. “Sebastian, you coming?”

“Uh…” He glanced to Elliott, tipsy enough to allow the hope to show plainly on his face.

Elliott laughed and wrapped an arm around his waist. “You can spend the night with me. You know I never mind.”

“Well, I’m going to my own house,” Sam said, holding his hands up. “Have fun.”

Maru, Abigail, and Elliott laughed, and they all split ways. Sebastian slipped his hand into Elliott’s when they were out of sight.

Elliott smiled at him. “Want me to read to you when we get home, my dear?”

Home.

Home home home.

Sebastian nodded. “Yeah.”

Then Sebastian saw it. He looked up and Elliott was smiling softly, his brows relaxed, eyes sparkling. He was… happy to see Sebastian.

Elliott chuckled. “What?”

“Nothing,” Sebastian murmured. “Just…” He bit his lip. How could he say this? He forced the words out, “just… happy to… to be… you know, to be with- with you.”

Elliott brightened. “That is so sweet! Sebastian!” He squeezed his hand as they stepped onto the beach, kicking sand as they went. “Before we head inside, do you want to go on a walk?”

With the alcohol buzzing pleasantly in his head and the moon hanging above them, there was absolutely nothing Sebastian would rather do. He nodded.

They strolled along the sand, headed towards the tidepools on the other side of the beach. When they arrived, Elliott broke off, and Sebastian missed holding his hand but it was worth it to watch him run around the tidepools, picking up shells and holding them to the starlight. He came over to Sebastian with a small, smooth black and purple shell and held it out to him.

“Reminds me of you,” he said sheepishly, and that was it, Sebastian was in love.

He cradled it in his hands, staring up at Elliott with the widest grin.

Kiss him.

Sebastian’s grin weakened. He couldn’t do that. He could never do that. What if he read everything wrong, and Elliott didn’t like him at all? Sebastian wouldn’t survive the embarrassment—or the guilt, if Elliott didn’t feel the same but kissed him anyway to spare Sebastian’s heart.

“I had a really good time with you tonight,” Elliott said softly. He stepped closer and fit his hand into Sebastian’s. He cupped Sebastian’s face. “I always have a good time with you.”

Sebastian couldn’t speak, just smiled up at him, eyes damn near close to watering.

“I was worried, with Maru being there. You guys always have so much- so much friction, and I know it upsets you. I don’t want anything to upset you. Maru is truly trying though, and it means a lot that—”

He stopped. His face flushed, eyes widening.

“I mean…”

Sebastian frowned. “What are you talking about? What does that mean?”

“No, nothing.” He brushed Sebastian’s hair back. “It was nothing.”

Sebastian took a step back. His hands trembled. “Have you been talking to Maru?”

He hesitated. “Sebastian…”

“Have you been talking to Maru?” He asked harder. “You promised you wouldn’t meddle in my relationships.”

“I- I know. And I’m sorry. But after we started getting close, she came to me, and she was so upset, Bastian-”

Sebastian shook his head, eyes squeezed closed. The shell fell to the sand. “You promised me. Why would you… I can’t believe you’d…”

“Please don’t be upset,” he begged. He stepped closer, and Sebastian stumbled back. “I just want you to be happy.”

“That’s none of your business!” Sebastian exploded. “I told you not to get involved, it’s none of your business whether Maru and I get along or not! I can’t believe you’d- you’d-”

Fuck, now his eyes were watering. Shit. He shook his head and turned, stumbling over the tidepools.

“Sebastian! Wait!”

“Just leave me alone, Elliott!”

He stormed away.

He was grateful it was so cold, because his body was hot, sweat pin-pricking his brow. He slammed the door open to his house and stormed towards Maru’s room. He banged on the door until she answered.

“Sebastian?” Her anger faded. “What is it?”

“I can’t believe you’d talk to Elliott behind my back,” he snapped. “You’re really so desperate to have a relationship with me that you’d trick me into it?”

“Seb?” Abigail peeked over Maru’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

He couldn’t even get the words out anymore. Part of him knew he was overreacting, knew he’d regret this, but his stomach boiled and his chest was tight and he was so, so angry, so upset that Elliott and Maru would…

He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Sebastian, you need to breathe,” Abigail said firmly.

Her cold hands cupped his face. He blinked his teary eyes open.

“Whatever you’re mad about, it’s okay,” she soothed. “You can figure it out.”

He turned and hurried away. He barely managed to get his bedroom door shut and locked before he sank to the ground, hands trembling and body numb.

He’d never been the type to trust people. In all honesty, he probably doomed his and Demetrius’ relationship from the start. Maybe he doomed his and Elliott’s, as well.

All he knew is he didn’t trust Elliott anymore, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

#stardew valley #sdv #sebastian sdv #elliott sdv #elliott/sebastian #when i fell overboard

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ilovetakingsurveys · 4 years

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Have you ever listened to… Avril Lavigne Taylor Swift Paramore Casting Crowns Black Eyed Peas Backstreet Boys Spice Girls Kari Jobe Misty Edwards Meredith Andrews Green Day N*Sync Play Newsboys Cascada Britney Spears Rachel Platten A*Teens Aaron Carter Gwen Stefani Lindsay Lohan Emma Roberts Hillsong Jesus Culture Bethel Music Smash Mouth Baha Men Dream Street Carrie Underwood Have you ever played… Truth or Dare Spin the Bottle Never Have I Ever Yoville/Yoworld Candy Crush Saga Cafe World Tic Tac Toe Rummy Go Fish Scrabble Scattergories Life Yahtzee Hide and Seek Two Truths and a Lie Apples to Apples Chutes and Ladders Mario Party MarioKart Pokemon Go Pokemon cards PacMan pinball skee ball Solitaire Mahjong Dimensions Dominoes Tag Roller Coaster Tycoon Have you ever watched… Kenan and Kel Lizzie McGuire All That The Amanda Show American Idol Even Stevens Rugrats Trading Spaces Good Morning America Legends of the Hidden Temple The Simple Life That’s So Raven Two of a Kind Figure it Out Rugrats Rocket Power Spongebob Squarepants Recess As Told By Ginger Taina Caitlin’s Way Cousin Skeeter Zoom Barney and Friends Allegra’s Window Little Bear Global Guts Slime Time Live Nick Jr. with Face Have you ever read… The Cat in the Hat Animal Farm The Great Gatsby 1984 The Little House on the Prairie books The Harry Potter series Twilight The Diary of Anne Frank Mother Goose nursery rhymes Peter Rabbit The Berenstein Bears Little Women The Bible The Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis Now for my favorite books! Have you ever read… Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery Anne of Avonlea by L.M. Montgomery The Daughters of the Moon series by Lynne Ewing Soundless by Richelle Mead The Memory of Light by Francisco X. Stork Lies We Tell Ourselves by Robin Talley Life As We Knew It by Susan Beth Bfeffer Let’s Get Lost by Adi Alsaid Seriously Wicked by Tina Connolly The Probability of Miracles by Wendy Wunder Jesus Calling by Sarah Young To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han China Dolls by Lisa See Dreams of Joy by Lisa See The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks The Final Quest by Rick Joyner The Call by Rick Joyner The Torch and the Sword by Rick Joyner The Supernatural Ways of Royalty by Bill Johnson and Kris Vallotton The Normal Supernatural Christian Life by Aliss Cresswell A Diary of Miracles by Aliss Cresswell The Princess Diaries series by Meg Cabot anything by Gordon Korman Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis Darkness Falls by Frank E. Peretti Angels and Demons by Dan Brown The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown Emily of New Moon by L.M. Montgomery Have you ever shopped at… Hot Topic Kmart Goodwill Wet Seal Limited Too/Justice Claire’s JCPenney Walmart Target Sears Payless Shoe Source Rue21 Forever 21 Deb Kohl’s Michael’s Hobby Lobby Toys R Us Barnes and Noble iTunes store Amazon.com Journey’s Icing Sanrio Ross Fred Meyer Monsoon Accessorize Maurices Plato’s Closet Have you ever ate at… Denny’s Pizza Sam’s Applebee’s Arby’s McDonald’s Wendy’s Burger King Sonic Dairy Queen Jade Garden Qdoba KFC Buffalo Wild Wings Steak ‘n’ Shake Rainforest Cafe Hard Rock Cafe The Cheesecake Factory Cold Stone Creamery Krispy Kreme Dougnuts Dunkin’ Donuts Fazzoli’s Olive Garden Old Country Buffet Country Kitchen Auntie Anne’s Panera Bread Panda Express Taco Bell Big Boy Have you ever been to these websites? facebook tumblr myspace PostSecret MaMaMedia nick.com Disney Channel polyvore StumbleUpon Pinterest bored.com blockfrenzy.com PicMonkey meez Have you ever ridden… Millenium Force The Gemini Top Thrill Dragster The Maverick Splash Mountain Space Mountain It’s a Small World Peter Pan’s Flight The Haunted Mansion Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster Goofy’s Barnstormer Big Thunder Mountain Railroad Tower of Terror The Power Tower a ferris wheel a merry-go-round a motorcycle a bicycle in a limousine in a hot air balloon on a boat on a ferry boat on an airplane on a train in a car in a truck a horse an elephant a camel Have you ever collected… rocks stamps dolls journals keychains Beanie Babies pogs Pokemon cards stuffed animals pillows seashells greeting cards stickers bracelets Have you ever watched… a sunset a sunrise falling leaves firefles a star-filled sky a meteor shower a lunar eclipse a solar eclipse the Northern lights a Broadway musical rain fall a thunderstorm snow fall birds Have you ever wished… you were the opposite gender you could run away you were popular you were dead someone would listen to you you were richer you had money to travel anywhere you wanted you were prettier you were older you were younger you could go back to your younger days and live them over again you could disappear you were a different sexuality you were a different person you were loved you were gifted you were nicer you were meaner you were stronger you made less mistakes you could go back in time and change something a certain person would notice you a certain person would ask you out you were accepted by more people you were more outgoing you were more introverted you were more outspoken you were less outspoken you were famous

#survey

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hannah-deserved-better · 6 years

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Bunker pack ch.6

Armed with the address and an extra key, Charlie made the 30-hour drive from Maine to Kansas in two days. Using a small car she had managed to hotwire, she had a lot of time to think. She never thought she’d see the beauty of a peaceful world again. The change of scenery as she crossed the country was awe-inspiring after the past eight years.

It had been a long eight years, and Charlie never imagined she’d be the leader of this stalwart women. Jo, Eileen, and Hannah had become her family, her people. The months and years spent living in caves, dodging angel raids, living off rats and wondering if they were going to live to see the light of the next day, Charlie had made a vow that no matter what, she’d protect the women who had become her sisters.

And now her sisters were scattered about this other world, this tranquil, peaceful world, but even with the distance between them, Charlie knew they would continue to operate as a single unit. They’d work together to do what they always did. Survive.

As Charlie pulled her car up to the bunker, she gazed around the open prairie, nervously. Wide open spaces were the last place you’d want to be located in her world. Angels could rain death on you from the sky. Caves, mountains, and forests were the safest places, although angels often found a way to get into those too.

She parked her car and came into the bunker and was startled by the fact that the lights were on, there was a duffel bag sitting on the main table and a set of car keys.

“Hello?” she called out loud, quickly reaching for the small handgun on her belt. Sam and Dean had assured her that the place was warded against angels, but Charlie wasn’t taking any chances.

The young woman who appeared in the room, her own gun drawn, surprised Charlie. “Who are you?” she demanded defensively, aiming her gun up at Charlie as she stood on the balcony looking down at her.

“Friend of the Winchesters,” Charlie explained, clutching her own gun. The two women found themselves at a draw. “Name’s Charlie, what’s yours?”

The young woman stayed silent, arching a brow. She kept her weapon at the ready. Sighing, Charlie lowered her gun, holding her hands up to indicate peaceful intentions. Finally, the woman did the same. “Claire,” she said. “Claire Novak.”

Charlie descended the stairs down to join Claire in the main room. “What are you doing here, Claire?” she asked curiously as she put her gun back into her belt and put her own duffel bag down on the table.

“I was looking for Sam and Dean,” Claire explained. She stood there watching Charlie for a moment, brushing her long blonde hair back out of her face.

“They’re working a case,” Charlie said hesitantly, not knowing how much she should tell this girl she just met. That Sam and Dean were working on a case involving the end of the world was probably not something she wanted to tell Claire at the moment.

“And Castiel?” Claire asked as she sat down at the table, looking up at Charlie. “He’s with them?”

Charlie nodded. “What did you need them for?” she asked. Claire shrugged.

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” she said, reaching for her duffel bag. “I should go.”

Charlie could tell she wasn’t telling her the whole truth. She reached out to touch Claire’s shoulder as she moved past her. “Hey, you don’t have to go,” she said. “I mean I could use your help if you're up for it.”

Claire turned to look at her. Charlie noted she looked pretty young. “First, how old are you?”

“I just turned 21,” Claire responded, narrowing her eyes. “What do you care? I’m a hunter, lady.”

“Yeah I’ll bet,” Charlie said, rolling her eyes. This girl was barely old enough, and Charlie bet she didn’t have much experience with hunting. “Look this stuff, the things Sam and Dean are involved in, its sort of hard core so I was just making sure you were going to be old enough to deal.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Claire snapped defensively. The two women eyed one another for a long pause as if trying to figure one another out. Charlie gave a long sigh after a pause.

“Yeah well, I guess you have to start somewhere,” Charlie said. “Here,” She turned to her duffel bag and pulled out a slender rifle and handed it over. Claire took it cautiously before giving Charlie a puzzled look.

“Look I need to reach out to hunters,” Charlie explained. “As many as we can reach. I’m sort of trying to raise an army.”

“Great, what are we hunting? Claire gave her a bright smile, holding the rifle against her. “Werewolves? Vamps?”

“Angels,” Charlie explained, and Claire’s expression immediately fell. Charlie looked at her. She couldn’t quite make out that expression. Fear? Anger? “I take it your familiar?”

“Yeah,” Claire said slowly, sounding preoccupied as her eyes fell to the floor. Charlie watched as she set the rifle on the table and slowly sunk down into a chair, looking at her hands. “What did they do?”

Charlie sat down in the chair next to her, leaning forward to focus in on her. “First tell me who you are to Sam and Dean,” she insisted. “Why did you come here?” Claire shrugged.

“I just needed to get away,” she explained as she stared at her hands, not looking up at Charlie. “Thought this was the best place to start.”

“Away from who, your parents?” Charlie prodded at her, prompting her to keep talking. Claire looked up at her, a snarky sneer on her face.

“No one understands me at home,” Claire explained. “I want to be a hunter. I’m really good at it. Jody thinks I should go to college, lead some normal life and I just can’t do it.”

“So you're out for a little adventure?” Charlie guessed, grinning a little. She couldn’t say she related. Her life had been one harrowing adventure after another in the past eight years, and she could honestly say she’d had her fill of adventure, but she could vaguely remember what it was like to have that kind of life. A life when things like getting along with parents, getting into the right college, trying to figure out what you were meant to be in life, were all so important. Now they all seemed to trivial. She almost longed for the days when she was in college, trying to squeeze by on a student’s salary, living off of ramen and take out. Part of her wanted to take Claire by the shoulders and shake her, trying to make her understand how good she had it, having a family and a house to live in.

“Yeah,” Claire said after a time. “I guess I just want to get out there. Get out on the road, travel, hunt. You know, like Sam and Dean.”

“Well I have to say you picked a bad time to come here to find yourself,” Charlie replied. “But you’re here now I guess. You can tag along with me. But first, stop avoiding my questions.”

Claire shrugged. “I’m uh their cousin,” she said hesitantly. Charlie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. She detected the insincerity in her voice and didn’t believe that for a second. “I’m their cousin from South Dakota.”

Yeah, right,” Charlie said rolling her eyes. “Like that sounded sincere. Look, I don’t have time. I need to find hunters, you want to tag along, we’ll have to play 20 questions later.”

With that, Charlie and Claire headed out of the bunker on their way to an adventure of their own.

#Supernatural #Claire Novak #Charlie Bradbury

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valkyrie-echo · 6 years

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Project Echo, Part 2: Chapter 1 (Summer Camp)

Part 2 Summary: A new enemy surfaces with a team of the Avengers’ greatest foes, hand-picked for their destruction. Meanwhile, Inessa’s pre-Hydra past begins to surface, casting doubt on where her loyalties truly lie.

Chapter 1: Summer Camp

"Everything ready?"

Y-E-S.

"No, no. Remember? We learned this one- it's like knocking on a door," he waited patiently.

Yes.

"Good. Are you ready?"

Yes.

"On the count of three. One-" he glanced over to make sure she was ready, then turned away, "-two-" he turned back quickly, eyes wider to make sure she was really ready, then turned away, "-two and a half-" he heard a quick exhale- the closest she'd gotten yet to a laugh- and grinned, "-OK, three!"

They both let go of their water balloons. A few moments later there were twin yelps from the back patio.

"CLINT BARTON YOU ARE A DEAD MAN!" Natasha roared from below. Thor, over now the initial shock of the icy water, laughed heartily as it dripped down his flannel shirt. It reminded him of days of mischief with Loki as a boy. Natasha threw her head back to look up at the faces peeking over the balcony, "Nessa, don't let him corrupt you!"

Inessa ducked behind Clint quickly and grabbed the back of his vest, as if she could use him as a shield. "It's alright," he pulled away from her and turned to speak face-to-face, "she isn't really angry, you know that, right?"

The girl nodded and Clint patted her shoulder, "Fun's over. We'll plan our next mission in the morning. Did you brush your teeth?"

Yes.

"Take your medicine? Doctor Simmons said you still have to have it once a day or else you'll regress."

Inessa nodded and held up her arm to show him the fresh band-aid. Clint smiled. Goodnight.

"Goodnight to you too," he followed her back inside the pale green farmhouse. Inessa waited until he closed the door behind him to curl up under the blankets. Her silver eyes flashed for a moment and the shadows darkened around the single candle on the nightstand. The flame flickered, then went out. Inessa closed her eyes and let her mind slip through the walls and into the Valley.

The way outside to the Avengers led Clint past the study, where Steve was sitting, refreshing his email impatiently, "You know, it updates itself when something pops up in your inbox," Clint pointed out.

Steve sighed and hit the button again, "I know, but maybe this saves a second."

"Still no word on Bucky?"

"It's not Bucky I'm worried about right now," Steve ran a hand through his hair, "It's Dimitri Aristov."

Clint walked into the room and closed the door. He glanced around, then hit the light switch and clicked the table lamp to max, just in case, "You think Inessa's uncle is going to be trouble?"

"I think he's going to be the one in trouble if we don't find him soon. Skye over at SHIELD is scouring security feeds all over the place, we don't even know if he's in the same city."

"Oh, I'll bet he is," Clint sat on the arm of a recliner, "I've gone after people like him plenty of times, they never wander far from home. He's in that city somewhere."

"Well," he turned back to the computer and once again refreshed his email, "I just don't want to deal with the fallout if Bucky finds him before we do."

"You're sure he went after Aristov?"

Steve nodded, "Positive. You saw the security footage. Inessa tells you her name and that he's her uncle, Bucky flips through the Project Echo files, and suddenly he's running off to Illinois on vacation."

"And you're sure Bucky and Dimitri aren't in the same place?"

"Bucky was due back a week ago, based on what he told JARVIS. He blocked his comms and tracker- he's hardly going on a picnic. The day Bucky finally finds us is the day after he kills Aristov. You didn't see him when he killed Dennisson, he had this look in his eyes, like-" Steve searched for the word and came up blank.

"Was it something like bloodlust?" he nodded, "Listen, between what Dennisson had done to Inessa and what he did to Bucky, is it any surprise? If he finds Airstov I think he'll do what's right and call it in. Dennisson was personal, and he cares about what happens to Inessa. No matter what Dimitri did to her, he won't act before she can at least see he's been caught."

"Do you think she knows her uncle sold her out?"

Clint nodded, "I do. According to her only 2 people in the world knew what she could do. Now, I can't get her to tell me who the second person was, but her uncle was the first, and based off what we saw he isn't shy about how much he hated her. I've got no doubts she would have hated him too."

Steve was sick of thinking about Aristov and Bucky, and he was sick of e-mails. He shut the computer down and cracked his neck, "I've got one more piece of bad news."

"What?"

"Tony's used up the rest of Pepper's vacation time. He's going to be joining us here tomorrow."

Clint laughed and stood up, "Come on, let's grab a six-er and go tell the team. We can take bets on Tony's reaction when he finds out the only room left is in the loft with Thor."

As always, Natasha was the first one up in the morning- and one of the few Avengers not hungover. Careful not to wake her bed-mate, she slipped out into the hall and over to Inessa's door. Natasha opened it and peeked in. The room was swirling with black shadow- formless and all-consuming. "Hey," she whispered, "stop playing and come help me make breakfast."

It was like someone pulled the plug on a drain. The shadows began to swirl around the bed and condensed quickly into a small point, then vanished entirely. The room was bright and cheerful and Inessa sat on the bed, her silver eyes glowing. Shy as always, she was slow coming over to Natasha, but the older woman was patient with her- and being one of only two members of the team who knew sign language she was also the only other person Inessa could communicate with.

"What should we make this morning? Blueberry muffins?"

Yes.

"But what do we do first? Before the others wake up?"

Inessa didn't answer, but she walked over to a small dresser and from the bottom drawer retrieved a pair of running shoes- her and Natasha's secret. "Good call, meet me out back in five minutes. OK?"

Yes.

Natasha returned to her room to change and, as promised, Inessa was waiting for her outside. While Clint worked on her ability to socialize with the others, Natasha tried her best to help the girl become more sure of her movements- and for now that meant building muscle. One day she even hoped to teach the kid to spar. She couldn't rely only on her powers to protect her, and Hydra might come for her again. It was no secret she was a physical therapist, of sorts, for Inessa- but the others allowed her this pretend-secret. Sam and Steve ran along one side of Clint's farm, Natasha and Inessa along another.

"What were you doing in there?" Natasha asked as they began to run. She had to keep turning back to check on Inessa and see if she would reply. Some days were better than others. Inessa looked down as she ran, unwilling to meet Natasha's eyes. "Were you looking for Bucky?"

Inessa stopped abruptly, shaking. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. She kept repeating the sign over and over.

"Hey, hey, it's OK-" Natasha came back to her and grabbed her shoulders, forcing Inessa to recognize her presence. "You're allowed to use your powers however you want, as long as no one gets hurt. If you want to look for him, then do it. No one is going to get mad at you for it. Do you understand?" The girl nodded, still scared. "Let's keep running, come on." They began again.

After the first mile Inessa looked more relaxed. Natasha decided to venture another question, "You can't find him still?"

No. The small gesture was almost unnoticed as she swung her arms.

"Don't tell the others you are looking," she advised, "I think they're all hoping he will come back on his own, but there's nothing wrong with some help." Inessa had been looking for three weeks- ever since Bucky vanished. Only Natasha knew- only Natasha was ever awake early enough to see Inessa stirring the last shadows of the night.

They turned back towards the farmhouse when they reached the edge of the first corn field. Natasha kept prompting her on different topics- during the morning run, when her mind was made to focus on something other than the memories that haunted her, she replied more. Natasha was sure that soon she would speak- unless Tony scared her shitless when he arrived. Inessa took a soft touch- and Tony was more like a sledgehammer. Natasha told her stories about him until they reached the porch.

"Stretch, then we'll pick some blueberries as a cool-down," Natasha glanced at the rising sun- they had a couple hours before anyone else would be up. "Do you know how to make them?"

Yes.

"Really?" Natasha was surprised.

Yes.

She smiled broadly, "Good- then you'll take the lead."

It was mid-afternoon before Tony finally appeared. Clint, Banner, and Inessa were returning from a horseback ride around the borders of the farm and Natasha was continuing Sam's hand-to-hand training. They heard the boom of the suit dropping out of super-sonic speeds and waited as he circled the farmhouse.

"Here we go," Steve put down the book he was reading and came over to Natasha and Sam. Thor was perfecting his horseshoe skills and didn't even bother to turn and see the source of the noise. Tony landed in the middle of the makeshift sparring ring and immediately stepped out of his suit.

"Aw, cute, I like the 'Little House on the Prairie' vibe."

"It beats being stuck in Avengers Tower again," Steve pointed out.

Tony nodded, "I'll give you that- it was a bit of a prison the last few months. Though- funny side effect- I actually had trouble sleeping in the dark the first two weeks. Pepper had to sleep in a different room, she couldn't stand the lights being on. Speaking of which, where's the kid- I have something for her."

He looked around as several large, jet-propelled trunks landed next to him. Clint led the group over, but kept Inessa slightly behind him, "Remember Tony, take it easy."

"I always take it easy," he glanced at the trunks and snapped his fingers, "JARVIS, you know what I'm looking for."

"Yes, sir," the voice came from one of the trunks and it opened.

Tony pulled a large folder of paper out of it and held it out, several feet from Inessa, "This is a gift from Pepper- the lady you met before coming here. Do me a favor- take this, go inside, and bring it back to me when you're done. Understand?"

Inessa looked up at Clint, "Go ahead," he smiled to show her it was alright. Her eyes glowed for a moment and the paper vanished.

"What the-" Tony stared at his hand. Inessa gave him and his trunks a wide berth as she circled to the farmhouse. Once she crossed into the shadows on the porch her eyes flashed again and the folder fell onto the ground in front of her. She picked it up, glanced back again, then went into the house. "She's getting good."

"She can only make little things disappear in this kind of light," Clint nodded, "and it tires her out like nothing else. You'll see- she'll be asleep until dinner now."

"Well, no one interrupt her. I want to see how she does with those papers."

"What are they?" Natasha asked suspiciously.

"Nothing."

"They didn't look like nothing," Steve crossed his arms, "What's your angle?"

Tony shrugged, "I pulled a couple strings, called in a couple favors. We'll see how she does."

"With what?"

"No spoilers," Tony pointed to his trunks, "Where do I get to sleep?" he glanced at Steve, "Don't make me bunk with Cap."

Clint sighed, "You're in the barn with Thor. The loft has a fully furnished apartment and you can use the ground floor as a workshop. Just don't mess with my archery stuff in the corner."

"You're lucky I made noise-cancelling earplugs after the last time we roomed," he told Thor, "or else this would have ended badly."

"And you-" he pointed at Steve, "You didn't answer your email. Simmons called me to let me know they found some dirt on Inessa's parental units."

Steve swore, "Well?" he pushed, "Anything we can use to find Dimitri?"

"No," Tony started digging through the opened trunk for something, "Just that her paternal grandfather was some US army General, John Ryker-"

"Oh!" Banner was surprised, "Ew. I knew him." he looked like he'd smelled something bad, "That was her grandfather? God, I feel old..."

Tony stood up and held out too hands towards Banner as if to say ta-da, "I present to you, the killer."

"Be fair," Banner cautioned, "Hulk killed him. And he had it coming- he kept trying to kill me. Besides- he was the first person who came after me when I became him. I hadn't even begun to figure out how to control the transformation.

"Excuses, excuses," Tony went back to what he was doing, "Anyways, Steve, you knew her maternal great-grandfather. You're all over his file."

"Who was it?" Steve was apprehensive.

Tony pulled out a large black box and set it on the ground, "Arnim Zola."

Steve, Natasha, and Sam all began cursing at once. Tony glanced up, eyeing them, "Be honest, you practiced that beforehand, right?"

"Arnim Zola was her great-grandfather? Our little Inessa?" Sam was incredulous.

Tony nodded and pulled a large oblong machine out of the case, he handed this to Sam, "Put that on. And yes- Zola's son Levin moved to Russia, got married, had a baby named Emilie, and died- well, his wife killed him- twelve years later. Emilie, as you know, married Anton Ryker and produced Nadya Ryker- our Inessa, as Sam put it. Agent Skye thinks it was probably a very powerful marriage at the time, and Hydra would have been all busted up over the loss of two legacies like that. We've got to assume it's common knowledge to them that Inessa is alive. SHIELD thinks Hydra will come after her."

"That is hardly surprising," Thor had no idea who these people were, but if she was the product of two powerful figures it was almost a guarantee Hydra would be arriving to collect her.

"I'm upgrading the border security, the farm is very large. Two suits at the house, one stationed every mile around the edges of the property and I've got JARVIS assembling and bringing over two small but powerful repluser cannons. Hydra could send an army at us and we'd probably survive. Maybe."

Clint raised his eyebrow, "Thanks for turning my farm into a military instillation."

Tony came over to pat him on the shoulder and smiled, "You're welcome."

"Wait- the hell?" Sam had the device strapped to his back. When he held his arms out, the framework of his wings appeared, but the polymer plates that served the same purpose as feathers would on a bird were made up of bars of red light.

"Ah, that's the upgrade to your unit," Tony came over to show off. "It is now resistant to a simple tazer and, unlike the last model, you have weapons. The science is too difficult for you to follow, but basically you'll be able to launch these at your enemies. It works a lot like porcupine quills, actually."

"Weapons?" Sam was intrigued, "How do I fire?"

"You don't until I unlock the weapons system," Tony pointed out, "And I'm not doing that until we're far away from here and anyone you could accidentally maim or kill. Speaking of- any updates on our favorite half-metal hobo?" Tony continued firing off questions and quips a mile a minute until Inessa came out of the farmhouse and slowly approached him to return the folder. She was pale and trembling.

"Hey," Banner crouched down so she could see his face, "go grab some apple juice and get some rest before dinner, OK? It's NOVA-night and you promised to watch that documentary on gamma radiation with me."

O-K.

"She says 'alright'," Clint translated as Inessa returned to the farmhouse.

"Let's see," Tony flipped through the papers, "She's fast," he held the papers out and his suit moved to retrieve them, "JARVIS, score 'em."

"Do we get to know what they are now," Steve feigned interest. He wasn't a sarcastic person- unless Tony was within earshot. They'd made a truce during the whole Shadow invasion, but that was long gone.

The suit held the pages up to the faceplate and scanned each document quickly. Tony held up a hand and waited for the suit to finish and print out a small piece of paper, which he quickly collected and scanned. "Well, kids, we've got a problem."

"What?" Natasha stepped closer, "Is something wrong with Inessa?"

Tony nodded, "Something very bad. Her talents are being squandered."

Steve rolled his eyes and turned instead to the suit, "JARVIS, hand me the papers please." the suit obliged and he flipped through them, "Wait- an I.Q. test?" He found a second test underneath it, "And some kind of math thing."

"I told you, it was Pepper's idea. And that 'math thing' is the placement test for M.I.T's mathematics department. Inessa there aced everything short of calculus and trig, which I doubt she would have learned in a public high school anyways." he held up the small piece of paper, "And she's got a 156 I.Q. That's genius-level. Once I get my lab set up-"

"You get her two hours a day, like everyone else. But that's only if she'll go with you." Sam cut him off, "We have a system."

Now it was Tony who was rolling his eyes, "Fine, but we start tomorrow," he snapped his fingers and the trunks lifted off the ground, "JARVIS, conduct your orchestra." The suit flew off towards the barn, leading the luggage. Tony looked around at the farmhouse and the distant fields, "This'll be great, it'll be fun. Like... Summer camp."

Clint smiled broadly, "Yeah! Just like summer camp! And you know what our first fun-filled activity is?"

"What's that, Farmer Hawk?" Tony returned the mock enthusiasm.

"Mucking out the stables," Clint grabbed Tony's arm with one hand and scooped up the reigns of Inessa's horse with his other. Tony kept looking back at the others, astounded by Hawkeye's impressively unbreakable grip.

"Um, help? Anyone? Avengers? Seriously-" they rounded a corner and disappeared. Banner, grinning, followed.

Natasha, Thor, Steve, and Sam glanced at one another, "He's right about one thing," Steve mused, "I don't think any of us have ever been to summer camp-" he looked to Sam who shook his head, he didn't have to bother checking with Natasha, "right, but from the movie's I've seen there's always an obnoxious kid, now we have one."

Sam laughed and patted Steve on the back, the turned away from the group and readied for flight, "Hold it-" Natasha called to him, "we're not done yet."

"But mom~" Sam whined, then winked.

"Wings off, now-," Natasha repressed her grin, "and call me that one more time and I'll teach you some new and very painful moves."

Steve turned back to the porch to resume his reading. Before Thor returned to his game he called over to Natasha, "Black Widow, promise me something! When my father lifts my exile from Asgard, I shall call upon my Warriors Three. I would have you battle our Lady Sif, for I believe you two would be an even match and she has yet to meet her equal in all the nine realms!"

"I would be honored to wipe the floor with your friend," Natasha bowed then, when Sam tried to take the opening and topple her, she spun quickly, lowered herself, and knocked his legs out from under him.

Inessa watched the Avengers from the window of her room. She couldn't stop her hands from shaking- but it had nothing to do with her trick outside. What if they knew? What if they found out the truth about what she was stirring in the shadows? Would they kill her then? Imprison her? Torture her like Dennisson had until she forgot again what she'd done? What she still intended to do?

Her heart was pounding and she felt sick to her stomach just thinking about it. Inessa drew the curtains to send the room into darkness, then began to call up the doors of the Valley. She felt guilty even as she began, but she had no choice. It didn't matter how much pain it caused her-

Or how many lives it would cost.

Chapter 2: What You Wished For

#my writing #avengers #marvel

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tisfan · 7 years

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All American Road Trip

Chapter One: Get out the Map | Chapter Two: (A Very Little) Leg Room | Chapter Three: (You’re) Gonna Sing the Words Wrong

Chapter Four: You Make Me Live

Ooh you’re the best friend that I ever had I’ve been with you such a long time You’re my sunshine and I want you to know That my feelings are true I really love you Oh you’re my best friend Ooh you make me live

–You’re My Best Friend, Queen

As appalling as it was to depend on Tony Stark – sometimes it seemed to Steve that he’d spent all his post-transformative time being financially dependant on, and therefore in some obscure manner, owned by, the Stark family, and believe you me, Steve resented it – Steve was glad enough for the shiny credit cards that Stark Industries provided.

Steve had gotten used to either snacking regularly around the Tower or just ignoring his hunger. It wasn’t like he hadn’t spent most of his growing-up years in some constant state of not having enough to eat. (the only time in his childhood he hadn’t been hungry was because he was too sick to notice)

But when Sam had pointed out that Bucky was hungry, that was an entirely different story.

And Bucky had been sharing the snacks with Steve. Which almost made it worse; that somehow, over thirty years and nine decades and however many hours there were, Bucky was still fucking looking after Steve, like Steve was a sweet, but ultimately stupid dog that couldn’t look after itself.

The more galling part of that was that it might possibly have been true.

They’d entered the all-you-could-eat diner and Steve hadn’t hesitated. “Seven, please,” he’d told the hostess, who looked at the three of them with wide, wondering eyes. “Believe me, you’ll want to charge us that way.”

Bucky ate like a man used to starving, quietly, efficiently. He didn’t talk. He chased every few bites with a dinner roll, using the spongy surface to clear every drop of gravy and grease from the plate.

He didn’t waste a calorie, either. While high in calories and fat, what Bucky chose from the various stations around the diner were balanced. High nutrient fruits – strawberries, bananas, melon slices, more strawberries – and vegetables. Lots of protein. Bucky was thoroughly practical; right up until he discovered chocolate milk.

Steve wasn’t sure if Bucky had been eating right for months; two years on the run after Insight Day and he still didn’t talk about that. But he certainly wasn’t eating for flavor. At the Tower, at the Wakanda compound, Bucky ate what was put in front of him. He never commented on the flavor or gave any indication that he preferred a thing. Even Steve, who tended to eat peanut butter out a jar with a spoon, had some favorites.

Bucky had been drinking regular milk up until that point; an older woman (by the calendar still probably younger than Bucky, but only by ten years or so) was fiddling with the heavy lift to pour just a little milk into her cup of tea. Bucky started a conversation with her, low and soft and polite, and she probably had something wrong with her eyesight, because the woman didn’t look at him and jump backward – a reaction that many people seemed to have. He leaned against the machine, put his cup under the other tap, and showed her how it worked, filling his own glass with chocolate milk. She managed to get a few drips into her tea cup. Bucky smiled at her, gave a little bow, just tilting his upper body in her direction. Smiled at something she said.

Came back to the table.

Frowned at the cup of brown milk, then shrugged and took a sip.

Drained the glass so quickly Steve thought he was pouring it down his throat.

[more under the cut, or read the whole thing at A03 ]

“Your boy’s got a sweet tooth,” Sam commented as Bucky got back up to refill his glass.

Steve gave Sam a sharp look. “He’s not my boy,” Steve said.

There weren’t words for the dubious expression that crossed Sam’s face. “I ain’t judging, man,” he said. “But that is your boy, don’t have any doubts on that.”

“Maybe once,” Steve said. He couldn’t help the way his stomach twisted, his hands clenched, or he had to swallow down the knot in his throat. Back when he and Bucky were sneaking around to find a quiet spot, loving each other in silence, you did not talk about it. Not unless you were a hundred and ten percent certain the other person was also temperamental. And even then, you were still risking it. Some men had been known to turn in their fellows, in order to divert suspicion. Steve knew it was different now, knew that. But he still had an old, instinctive reaction. His nerves were telling him shut up, shut up, shut up. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. “He’s my best friend.”

“He’s your best something, is what he is,” Sam said. “Man broke through seventy years of conditioning, for you. You best treat him right.”

Steve scowled.

“I ain’t sayin’ you’re treating him badly,” Sam said, spreading his hands. He twitched his head in the direction of Bucky, who was on his third refill of chocolate milk, being almost unable to stop sampling long enough to return to the table. “I’m saying pay attention, man.”

Steve watched as Bucky finally came back to the table, the way his legs moved, the sway of his hips, the powerful arms, the thousand-yard stare.

“Believe me, I’m paying attention,” Steve said. He almost wished he could ignore Bucky, just a little bit. It might have been better for his peace of mind.

And I’m a tail fin road locomotive From the days of cheap gasoline For sale on the side of the road goin’ nowhere A rusty old American dream This car needs a young man to own him One who will polish the chrome I’ll give you the rest of my lifetime Just don’t let me die here alone –Rusty Old American Dream, Pat Green

All jokes aside, the backseat was tiny. Sam didn’t blame Barnes for spreading out, or for the very minimal bitching the man had managed to work himself up to doing. In fact, Sam might have thought the bitching was doing Barnes some good. He doubted Hydra let the man complain.

But Sam had a sister and a cousin who lived with them more often than not, and grandparents that lived four states away. He wouldn’t say he was happy with long car rides, but he knew how to handle them. He climbed into the back seat, the new bags of snacks tucked in the driver’s side footwell, cranked the passenger side window down, and laid over on the back seat, legs bent and the heels of his sneakers resting against the sill.

“Seriously, Sam?” Steve eyed him from the driver’s seat, using the mirror expressively.

Sam flicked him the bird. “Shut up, man, I’m comfy.” He wasn’t, really, entirely. It’d been several years since the last time he was smashed in the back seat, but he’d also been in the Air Force, sleeping in uncomfortable spots was one of his talents.

“If I wreck, you’re gonna get your legs cut off at the knee,” Steve pointed out.

“So don’t wreck, Captain Safe Driver,” Sam retorted. “Now, hush your mouth and let your boy read.”

Barnes coughed uncertainly. “I can read while you talk,” he said.

“Nah, man, read to us,” Sam suggested. “Ain’t that what people used to do, back in your day, for entertainment.”

“Believe it or not, Sam, we actually had moving pictures back in our day,” Steve said. Sam couldn’t see his expression, but his voice sounded like he was scowling.

“Black and white,” Barnes said. “Silent, with title placards. Remember sneakin’ in a few times. But yeah, I… used to read to you a lot, remember, Stevie? When you were sick, I’d sit next t’you and read, just tons. Used to walk ‘n the gutters sometimes, look for pennies, save ‘em up to get a dime novel at the drugstore.”

“I remember you reading Ellery Queen,” Steve said, his voice soft. “The Greek Coffin.”

“Yeah, y’ little sneak,” Barnes said, laughter in his voice. “You waited ‘til I fell asleep and snuck a peek at the challenge page.”

“You wouldn’t have caught me, if you hadn’t done the exact same thing,” Steve pointed out.

“True,” Barnes admitted.

“Shame on you, Rogers. Reading ahead spoils the fun. I burned myself on that habit,” Sam piped up. “When I was twelve, I was reading George Orwell’s 1984 and I read the last page after about 10 pages in.” He waited, that usually got groans and appreciative noises from his audience, but neither of them made a sound. Oh. Oh, god. “Y’all’ve never read 1984, have you?”

“Nope,” Barnes said, popping the P with a certain amount of gusto. “I haven’t actually read a book since 1943.”

“What was the last book you read?” Sam asked, curious.

“Um,” Barnes said, scratching at the scruff on his chin. “Not sure, maybe Happy Golden Years?”

“Wasn’t it that book your sister sent you?” Steve asked. “Along with some cookies that were mostly stale crumbs by the time we got the box.”

“Yeah, I think,” Barnes said. “That Laura Wilder woman. I used to read that to her, while they were shiny-new. The boy at the pharmacy had a crush on my sister –” he directed that comment at Sam, because surely this was something that Steve knew “– and he had given them to her.” He stopped, took a deep breath. “When… last year. I looked her up. She married that man. I have a grand-niece, and two great-grand-nephews, through them.”

“Have you made contact with them?”

Sam didn’t have to see Barnes’ face to imagine the flat look he was giving Steve. “Can’t think why they’d want me to.”

“C’mon, Buck,” Steve said, “you were a hero. What –”

“Stark ain’t the only person who might be keepin’ tabs on me,” Barnes said. “You think I wanna lead any stray Hydra t’ the only blood kin I got left? No, Stevie. Ain’t worth it for me, and they’re better off jus’ not knowing.”

Couldn’t say the man wasn’t smart, even if he had read Little House on the Prairie. Sam took his foot off the windowsill long enough to kick the back of Barnes’ seat. “Read, boy,” Sam said.

Barnes rumbled in his throat, then fished around in the bag to pull out a hardback novel. He flipped a few pages, drew his finger down the page, and started to read.

It was in Warwick Castle that I came across the curious stranger whom I am going to talk about. He attracted me by three things: his candid simplicity, his marvelous familiarity with ancient armor, and the restfulness of his company—for he did all the talking.

There was something ironic about listening to a man out of time… reading about a man out of time, but Sam didn’t point it out. He lay back down in the back seat and listened to the man weave the story.

He might not have been able to sing worth shit, but Barnes could read. He was expressive, he did different voices for each of the characters, and he kept turning pages for as long as there was light in the car.

Sam reminded himself to buy more books. A lot more books.

I ain’t got much else to lose I’m faded flat busted Been jaded I been dusted I know that I’ve seen better days One foot in the hole One foot gettin’ deeper crank it to eleven And blow another speaker And I ain’t got, I ain’t got much to lose –Better Days (And The Bottom Drops Out), Citizen King

“Don’t know who the fuck thought you deserved a goddamn driver’s license,” Bucky snarled, unkinking himself from the front seat. Shotgun or not, Steve’s driving was terrible no matter what the road conditions were. Steve tailgated, he cut people off, he drove like he was in a fucking warzone and people were throwing grenades.

Bucky’s muscles ached from bracing himself against the door handle. A few times, he’d heard the plastic strain, just an inch from ripping the whole thing off in some vain attempt to keep himself from being smashed to tiny bits when Steve drove the tiny, stupid, unarmored car into a semi tractor-trailer.

Bucky knew, mind you, that tensing up was the worst thing he could do before impact. He’s learned over decades of training and conditioning to go limp for a crash. To roll with the force, eat it up in tumbles and rolls. That loose muscles were unlikely to strain so hard as to snap bones.

He could project trajectories, do the equations in seconds, calculate the turning of the planet, the wind resistance, to see the physics and algebra under the surface of the world, the threads and numbers and variables that moved the world. He could time a jump to the millisecond, he could calculate the paths that would help him catch his prey.

And he still couldn’t help but see every accident that Steve almost had.

He’d been watching that stupid punk nearly commit suicide by idiocy every day of his life from age nine to twenty-seven.

Steve’s reactions were as good as Bucky’s. He wasn’t trained with the specifics of mayhem that the Winter Soldier had been; Steve was just naturally good at wreaking havok.

“This hotel better have a pool, yo,” Wilson said. He was stretching luxuriously, as if he hadn’t spent the last half day asleep in the backseat. “An’ a poolside bar would not be a tragedy.”

“You are too used to living in the compound,” Steve snapped. Steve looked tired. How could that even be right? Steve had as much stamina as the Winter Soldiers. He’d certainly fought like he couldn’t be exhausted.

“You’re damn straight,” Sam said. “Defending the world needed to have its perks.”

“Is that what we’ve done, Sam?” Steve said.

Oh. Oh.

Steve wasn’t tired, not the way most people would mean it. Steve was exhausted. From carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. From the realization that what he’d done wasn’t saving the world.

“We got played,” Bucky said. It was nothing but the truth. Zemo had played them; had sought out all their weaknesses and used them against the other. Mistrust, lies, emotions had run high. Steve, who’d been badly compromised in his concern for Bucky. Bucky who’d lived so long as a tool that he had no idea how to function as a team. The drive for revenge all the way around. Zemo had played them like chess. Played them right into a trap.

And they’d tumbled in like fools. Breaking everything that had been important.

Personally, Bucky thought Stark was right; the Avengers weren’t for arms dealers. They weren’t for piddly terrorist groups and black market weapons dealers. They weren’t for the evils that humans could do against each other – and humans were pretty damn capable of hurting each other. The Avengers were for things like Loki, things like aliens and mutants that could crack the planet in half like a dinner plate in a shooting gallery.

Zemo had wrecked them.

They were floundering now, trying to find a stable balance while the world still rocked underneath them.

And Steve was carrying that fulcrum point. No matter how much Stark might hate them now, for what they’d done, for what they were, for who they were and the lies they’d told and the blood on their hands. Stark knew that. He was doing his best.

But Steve couldn’t find center.

“Pool sounds great,” Bucky said. Because Steve needed to relax, and he’d only do that, only had a chance of doing that, if Bucky led the way.

He ached to do it; he hadn’t been able to reach out, he didn’t want to touch Steve with his hands that had taken so much life, had destroyed so much. He’d killed Howard Stark, for fuck’s sake, the man who’d made all of this, all of them, possible. Hydra had stolen Erskine and Stark and so many others who’d helped Steve, kept him from dying, choking on his own blood, and Bucky had helped them destroy that, against his will, but he’d done it nonetheless.

He hadn’t been able to reach out. Steve had been the one to touch, to clasp Bucky’s shoulder, to put a hand over his, to stare with those longing blue eyes that just wanted to have his friend back.

In reality, it couldn’t have been more than five seconds that he hesitated. In Bucky’s head, it was fifty years, a hundred, half a million years. He reached out, slung that metal arm over Steve’s shoulders and drew him in, the way he’d done for the whole of their lives as free men, tucked Steve up against his body as if he was still a ninety-eight pound weakling.

“Let’s go have some fun, Stevie,” Bucky suggested.

Steve managed a trembling smile, and when Bucky returned it, Steve’s smile grew even brighter until the whole area was lit with its radiance. “Yeah, ya jerk, let’s do that.”

#all american road trip #all caps #steve x sam x bucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam wilson

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dantediscoversfic · 7 years

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Chapter 7: Icarus

After our fourth swimming lesson, I invited Ari over to my house for lunch. My parents were curious to meet him (and they claimed I hadn’t stopped talking about him since Monday). My mom was still at work but I knew my dad would be home. He’s an English professor and was spending the summer researching and writing his latest book, which to me looked a lot like hanging around his office all day reading and drinking tea. Not a bad gig, right?

“My dad’s in his office. Let’s say hi then we can make some lunch. I could make peanut butter and jelly, tomato soup or heat up some frozen pizza bites. We could eat those with leftover black beans and rice?”

“Pizza bites with rice and beans? Well there’s a first time for everything, I guess.”

We went into my dad’s office. I could tell Ari was nervous. He didn’t move too far past the doorway and he kept his eyes locked on his shoes.

I sat down on the arm of Dad’s big brown leather chair and gave him a kiss on the cheek. His chin was scratchy (again). “You didn’t shave this morning, Dad.”

“It’s summer.”

“That means you don’t have to work.”

“That means I have to finish writing my book.”

“Writing a book isn’t work.”

Dad laughed his big belly laugh (my favorite of all his laughs). “You have a lot to learn about work.”

“It’s summer, Dad. I don’t want to hear about work.”

“You never want to hear about work.”

I didn’t like where this conversation was headed so I tried a diversionary tactic. I pinched at his chin scruff and asked, “Are you going to grow a beard?”

“No, it’s too hot. And besides, your mother won’t kiss me if I go more than a day without shaving.”

“Wow, she’s strict.” I never minded the ticklish way my dad’s chin felt when it was stubbly, but I guess Mom could lay down the law where her own lips were concerned.

“Yup.”

“And what would you do without her kisses?”

I knew I was getting close to the amount of teasing he’d tolerate. He smiled and turned his attention to Ari, who was still hovering in the doorway. “How do you put up with this guy? You must be Ari.”

“Yes, sir,” Ari said. Sir! Who knew Ari had such good manners?

My dad got up and shook Ari’s hand. Ari’s eyes got all wide. “I’m Sam,” my dad said. “Sam Quintana.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Quintana.” Wow Ari was really gunning for polite friend of the year award!

“You can call me Sam,” Dad said.

“I can’t,” Ari said, so quiet I almost couldn’t hear him.

Dad nodded and said, “That’s sweet. And respectful.” Dad turned his eyes to me and said in his trying-to-be-authoritarian voice, “The young man has some respect. Maybe you can learn something from him, Dante.”

“You mean you want me to call you Mr. Quintana?” I sassed. Dad was trying hard to keep a straight face in front of Ari but I was onto him. Dad gave me a look before turning back to Ari. “How’s the swimming?”

“Dante’s a good teacher,” Ari said. I was proud he said that and I liked how my name sounded coming from his lips. He snuck a quick look at me through the curtain of dark hair that half-covered his eyes, almost like we were sharing a secret. He had this way of shaking his head forward every now and then so his hair stayed in a swoop over his eyes. I hadn’t noticed this cute tic of his in the pool when his hair was wet before. I had the sudden urge to tussle up his hair but knew that would not go over well.

“Dante’s good at a lot of things. But he’s not very good at cleaning his room. Cleaning a room is too closely related to the word work.”

I knew where Dad was headed with this and I didn’t like it. “Is that a hint?”

“You’re quick, Dante. You must get that from your mother.”

“Don’t be a wiseass, Dad.” If Mom were here she would have scolded me for using a curse word, but I was taking a chance that Dad wouldn’t mind it. Turns out I was wrong.

“What was that word you just used?”

“Does that word offend you?”

“It’s not the word. Maybe it’s the attitude.”

I rolled my eyes. Ok, maybe I was showing off in front of Ari a little bit. Bravado and all that. I sat down to take off my sneakers.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Dad said. “There’s a pig sty up there that has your name on it.”

Drat. I’d rolled the dice on the sass-o-meter and lost big time. I was hoping I’d be able to spend all day doing nothing with Ari but it looked like Dad was choosing today of all days to play dictator.

I kicked off my sneakers and wiggled my toes. Ari looked at me a little funny and reached down to take off his shoes, too.

“Oh, you can leave your shoes on if you like,” I said. “I just like having mine off. ‘Free the feet’ is basically my life’s motto.”

“Ok, good. Because my socks both have holes in the toes,” Ari dead-panned and my dad and I both laughed.

“Ari and I need to eat lunch, Dad. You can’t expect me to starve our guest just because you are hell bent on enforcing dictatorial rule about the state of my room.”

“Lunch first. Then clean.”

“Ok, ok.”

For lunch Ari decided pizza bites and black beans was an abomination so he decided to make his “special secret recipe” of fish-stick tacos instead. I was his sous chef and responsible for the chopping. He was a real stickler for chopping, let me tell you. He showed me the best way to hold a knife and the difference between mincing and julienning. I may have known all the technique when it came to swimming but he sure had me beat in knife skills. When it came time for me to chop an onion he got a big grin on his face.

“What?” I asked. “Are you going to laugh when the tears start streaming down my face?”

“Ok, I read this thing about onions in a magazine once but have never got to try it.”

“Try what?”

“Apparently if you wear goggles it will stop you from crying.”

So we put our goggles on and it actually worked! We liked wearing them so much we spent the rest of the time preparing the meal pretending like we were underwater. I don’t normally like cooking but I didn’t mind it with Ari.

After we’d eaten and cleaned up we went up to my room.

My dad was right (darn him), it truly was a mess.

I had of burst of nervous jitters in my tummy now that Ari was on the threshold of my room. I did a quick scan to make sure there wasn’t anything super embarrassing like dirty underwear in plain sight. Nothing too bad, just the normal hodgepodge. I hadn’t felt nervous at all when we were downstairs, but being alone in my room felt different somehow.

I started picking up the dirty clothes and putting them in my hamper. I didn’t want Ari to smell anything foul and think I was a heathen. He was doing the same hover-in-the-doorway thing he’d done in my dad’s office so I decided to put on some music, hoping to set a more relaxing mood.

I chose Abbey Road, basically the most perfect record ever made.

“I can’t believe you have an actual record player,” he said.

“It was my mom’s. She was going to throw it away. Can you believe that? Vinyl. Real vinyl. None of this cassette crap.”

“What’s wrong with cassettes?”

“I don’t trust them.”

He laughed at that. But I sort of knew he would before I said it. “Records scratch easily,” he said.

“Not if you take care of them.”

He gave my room a thorough once over. “I can see that you really like to take care of things.”

He had me there. I laughed and handed him a book of poems that was sitting on my nightstand. William Carlos Williams. I had been reading it last night before I went to bed and had a dream I was stringing up a mountainous stack of white sheets, shirts and dresses on a clothesline in the middle of a prairie field while a big storm was brewing overhead. The white sheets flapped in the wind like a whip. I liked the dream though it was unsettling, too. Good poetry will do that to you.

There was a particular poem called “Icarus” that when I read it last night it reminded me of Ari. I wanted to tell him that, but I thought he might think that was a little strange, telling him I was thinking about him while I was reading poetry. So I handed him the book, instead. Maybe he’d read the same poem and think of me and we’d both be none the wiser. “Here, you can read this while I clean my room.”

“Maybe I should just, you know, leave you—” he said and flicked his hair forward. I could still see his eyes looking all around my room. “It’s a little scary in here.”

Scary, ouch. I mean, my room was a little chaotic maybe, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call it scary. Ari and my dad seemed to be on the same page about the optimal cleanliness of rooms, I guess.

“Don’t,” I said. “Don’t leave.” (I really didn’t want him to leave). “I hate cleaning my room.”

“Maybe if you didn’t have so many things.”

I looked around. To someone else’s eyes I could see how it could leave the impression that a tornado had just breezed through: clothes, shoes, books, records, notepads, polaroids, sheet music, old homework assignments and tests, and all the pictures I’d torn out of magazines for my inspiration board were scattered everywhere and covered nearly every available surface. Yeah, I guess there was a lot of stuff, but who doesn’t have a lot of stuff?

“It’s just stuff. If you stay, it won’t be so bad.”

“Ok, should I help?”

“No. It’s my job.” I knew my mom would really tear into me if she found out I’d roped my new friend into cleaning my room for me. I’d never hear the end of it. And knowing me, I wouldn’t be able to not tell her. That’s the funny part.

We chatted a bit about our moms and dads. Ari hadn’t told me much about his parents and I was curious what they were like, how Ari got along with them. It seemed like Ari had magically entered my life like Athena emerging fully grown out of Zeus’ skull and I was having trouble picturing him as a baby or with his family. I told him that I understood my dad—heck, I’d had his number since I was a little kid. My mom, not so much. She’s a psychiatrist and helps teenagers for her job and so she knows how to keep her cards close. My dad and I are more alike. Both big open books. Ari, he was more like my mom, I realized: inscrutable in certain ways, clear as day in others.

“Read that book while I clean.”

He opened it up and thumbed through a few pages. He looked up at me and I could read it on his face that poetry was not his thing.

“Poetry,” I said. “It won’t kill you.”

“What if it does? Boy Dies of Boredom While Reading Poetry.”

I tried to keep a straight face—after all poetry is an important art form and has a bad rap!—but that worked just as well as it always works when Ari is looking at me with the corner of his lips upturned in a half-smirk and a sparkling gleam in his dark brown eyes. I shook my head in mock offense and started attacking the monster task of getting my room in order.

My comfy reading chair had become a catch-all receptacle for all the random things I hadn’t bothered putting away over the last few weeks so I told him to clear it off so he could sit there and read.

“What’s this?” he asked, picking up one of my sketch pads.

I froze momentarily.

“A sketch pad.”

“Can I see?”

I shook my head no. “I don’t like to show it to anyone.”

It wasn’t that I was embarrassed about my drawing skills or that I thought Ari wouldn’t appreciate some of the drawings I’d done—in fact I bet he’d especially dig the comic book characters I liked to do sometimes for fun. But there were a few drawings in there of a boy sitting on the edge of a pool that I didn’t want him to see.

I picked up the pad and put it away on my desk and changed the subject back to the book of poetry. “Really, it won’t kill you.”

Ari sighed dramatically but then settled in to reading with little complaint after that. While I cleaned up I snuck quick peaks at him to see how he was enjoying it. His eyebrows were knitted together the whole time he read and he had a habit of biting his lower lip when he was really concentrating (I had noticed this at the pool as well when I was giving him detailed instructions) but he kept at it until he’d read the whole book.

Late afternoon in my room is my favorite time of day. I have westward facing windows and when the golden light spills in you can see little dust particles floating in the air in an almost sparkly and magical way sometimes. The light hit the white pages of Ari’s book and it reflected back up onto his face, making him glow almost.

After Abbey Road was done I switched on Pink Moon. I’d found the record at a junk shop and liked the surreal picture on the cover so I bought it even though I’d never heard of Nick Drake before. It quickly became one of my favorite records.

Believe it or not, I do have a system once I get going organizing my room. Books especially. My shelf is alphabetical by author’s last name (the library way) and my ‘to-read’ pile on my desk goes in ascending order of excitement about reading. Once all the dirty clothes are in my hamper it’s pretty easy to sort the rest of my clothes out, too. I like folding everything in neat stacks by type of clothes (undershirts, tshirts, button down shirts, shorts, pants) and by color. I find it soothing to see them all stacked up in rainbow order in my drawer. My painting and drawing area also needed some attention. I organized my drawing pencils, charcoals, pens and paints in my plastic storage bins. I soaped up all my paintbrushes that had gotten stiff. I organized my records, alphabetical by artist.

Every now and then Ari would make a “hmm” noise or a soft grunt. I was dying to ask him what he thought about the poems he was reading but I kept focused on my room. The sooner I finished, the more time we’d have to talk and hang out.

I finished up my room and looked around, satisfied with my work. I took the book of poems from Ari. I found one I particularly liked called “Death” (uplifting title, right?), which is about a dead dog. Whenever I read this poem I thought of Ringo, my old dog. There’s a picture of us on my bulletin board. He was old when he died. He had cancer. Reading the poem aloud felt almost like giving him a eulogy again (I had insisted my parents and I all give speeches when we buried him). It still hurt thinking about him, but I liked how reading the poem aloud made my memories of him feel alive inside me. Like I was marking an important moment by remembering him aloud, even if the remembering was only for myself. I didn’t tell Ari about Ringo just then because I was afraid I might tear up. I knew I’d tell him one day, though.

He’s dead the dog won’t have to sleep on the potatoes anymore to keep them from freezing

he’s dead the old bastard—

I smiled at that last word, thinking of Ringo and also because here, alone in my room with Ari, I had free reign to say curse words like ‘bastard’ without the cluck of my mom’s tongue or my dad’s raised eyebrow. We had our own rules up here, ones that we could make up on our own, together.

While I was reading aloud, Ari had shut his eyes. Not because he was sleeping or bored, but because I think he was really trying to listen to the words. His face was peaceful then. The crease between his eyebrows smoothed over. I felt bold enough to continue reading more poems to him. I wanted to keep that peaceful look on his face for as long as I could.

When I got to “Icarus”, my heart started beating fast, I don’t know why. It’s not like he would know that when I read the beautiful words I imagined Ari falling from the sky like a shooting star and landing in a sparkling, clear blue sea with barely a splash.

According to Brueghel when Icarus fell it was spring

a farmer was ploughing his field the whole pageantry

of the year was awake tingling near

the edge of the sea concerned with itself

sweating in the sun that melted the wings’ wax

unsignificantly off the coast there was

a splash quite unnoticed this was Icarus drowning

My voice quivered a little when I read the last line. If Ari asked about it I could just claim it was allergies.

#ari and dante fic #aaddtsotu

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smay60 · 5 years

Text

Ode to Kansas

Sitting in the present in a land that came to be the place

First out of the blue a brief spot for a little bit of schooling

Second as a hand of fate having no reason but exclusion

Sent again here out of all the rest that went somewhere else

Then lastly a stop along the way to another place in mind

Became the stop sign putting all traffic to a standstill

Until the sound of something in the distance calling

Caught the interest to turn in the direction heard

On a street that led to a dead end road a house of open door

A sight of craftsmanship worth the chance to step inside

Became the place to stay from the warmth of hearth

In this land I never knew nor thought of before

Except for circumstance of three times here

Put me at last the last place I ever wanted to be

The home I left long ago to find the home of my own

In the meeting spot where all four directions come together

As the in the center of our being being the heart of the matter

In the first visit a summer trade school an eastern tip city

Being a Kansas city but mostly a town in Missouri

Was like the hometown city of urban street hill and tree

Both divided by a river both on the border of east and west

Next to Ozark green hills sloping continually toward the east coast

Beside the flat plain spreading across the wide open western spaces

Being a hub of the last stopping point before all points west

Like Forth Worth town of birth being where the west began

Next to the eastern influenced cosmopolitan city of Dallas

That I left after only a decade when family headed southwest

Found a touch of familiarity in my steps hearing leaves whispering

Remember my look said the homes on hills among the parks

The next stop provided by Uncle Sam's roll of the dice

In the last unit standing down everyone sent to Texas

Home of the big base for the big guns of artillery

Except for me being ordered to go by myself

In the luck of the draw or the cast of lots

To a hill infamous in the name of Custer

An outpost based on the edge of the Flint Hills

Rolling hills of grassland where the buffalo roamed

That overlooked to the west the flattened horizon

Filled with squares of farms all the way to the Rockies

Out in the open where the northern air became the hawk

Of wind chill that cut through all layers of cloth

Booming down from the great divide frosted

From the blast of Arctic mass blew in unison

Sweeping across the open plain without windbreak

My introduction to winter that the southwest imitated

Mild snow or sleets of ice as a cold front passing through

Not staying around for a season of permanent frost

But not quite as cold as Nebraska hoovering above

Getting breaks from southern breezes whooshing

Upward through the gentle hills south of Fort Riley

Echoing from the plains of Wichita of ranch and farm

As a touch of spring in the middle of winter

Like the warmth of meeting a girl briefly

Hitching a ride yet she was with another

Said thanks for the ride but stayed around

After the service going to school in the little apple

Instead of going back home to New Mexico

That I found a year later on her way out of town

Heading toward the end of the Oregon trail

Look me up she said waving goodbye

I finished the semester then back to Kansas City

To another semester of a different school

Until I thought I would take a chance to meet

Again the thought that wouldn't go away

Got a backpack had a thumb will travel

Went up to Eugene never finding her again

But found the open road an adventure

Leaving Kansas behind the second time

Ten years later after a life on the road

Stopping here and there maybe staying

For the winter before heading out again

Covered all points west north and south

Never finding a place to stay any longer

Until heading northeast this time through

Maybe east of the Mississippi never been

Stopping in Wichita for food and supply

Ran into an old buddy from the Fort

Now long settled married with children

Heard the halting whistle stop of old

Staying for the winter until the house

With the open door found a wife

With children within that became

The place where I sold my backpack

Before one more move up to the capital

Staying long enough to call this place home

Nor want to leave or need to leave ever again

Until the winds of every direction crisscross

Up and down then side to side the turbulent air

Swirling all around in the heart of the land blowing

Every layer of change moving across the state

Into this place of center mass for a chance of storm

Thundering loudly echoing thru the sky rumbling

Down the horizon shooting bolts of electrified current

Seeking a spot to ground burning in a frizzle of spark

Like ideas clashing in a mix of overheated response

Within the settled mass of cold thought not moving

Finally creating a spin of windy destruction tearing

Across the prairie of gully or the field of wheat

Against the town or city home or apartment

Ripping apart the place of any safe haven

In the way of this constant continued clash

Of shout or blame or denial or refusal

All across this land from every angle

The dead cold frozen northern air

The searing heat of southern breeze

The soaking drench of the eastern wind

The fierceness of the western wind

Explodes into the atmosphere of elemental

Difference an intensity out of control

Thinking without thought hailstorm of words

Without the cover of reasoning to understand

Having to run to take shelter the whirling

Twister of too much force damaging trail

In the nature of all around the countryside

Stressing into the very heartbeat of the nation

Being the centerpiece of our own very being

Having to wait for the storm to blow over

Seeing the sunshine of the day once again

Making the place a beautiful place to stay

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pastelbatfandoms · 5 years

Text

Have you ever seen these movies? Cars The Lizzie McGuire Movie Passport to Paris Legally Blonde The Cheetah Girls Bruce Almighty Monsters, Inc. Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen Pixel Perfect Good Burger Mean Girls The Kenan and Kel Movie The Rugrats Movie Bring it On Have you ever listened to… Avril Lavigne Taylor Swift Paramore Casting Crowns Black Eyed Peas Backstreet Boys Spice Girls Kari Jobe Misty Edwards Meredith Andrews Green Day N*Sync Play Newsboys Cascada Britney Spears Rachel Platten A*Teens Aaron Carter Gwen Stefani Lindsay Lohan Emma Roberts Hillsong Jesus Culture Bethel Music Smash Mouth Baha Men Dream Street Carrie Underwood Have you ever played… Truth or Dare Spin the Bottle Never Have I Ever Yoville/Yoworld Candy Crush Saga Cafe World Tic Tac Toe Rummy Go Fish Scrabble Scattergories Life Yahtzee Hide and Seek Two Truths and a Lie Apples to Apples Chutes and Ladders Mario Party MarioKart Pokemon Go Pokemon cards PacMan pinball skee ball Solitaire Mahjong Dimensions Dominoes Tag Roller Coaster Tycoon Have you ever watched… Kenan and Kel Lizzie McGuire All That The Amanda Show American Idol Even Stevens Rugrats Trading Spaces Good Morning America Legends of the Hidden Temple The Simple Life That’s So Raven Two of a Kind Figure it Out Rugrats Rocket Power Spongebob Squarepants Recess As Told By Ginger Taina Caitlin’s Way Cousin Skeeter Zoom Barney and Friends Allegra’s Window Little Bear Global Guts Slime Time Live Nick Jr. with Face Have you ever read… The Cat in the Hat Animal Farm The Great Gatsby 1984 The Little House on the Prairie books The Harry Potter series Twilight The Diary of Anne Frank Mother Goose nursery rhymes Peter Rabbit The Berenstein Bears Little Women The Bible The Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis Now for my favorite books! Have you ever read… Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery Anne of Avonlea by L.M. Montgomery The Daughters of the Moon series by Lynne Ewing Soundless by Richelle Mead The Memory of Light by Francisco X. Stork Lies We Tell Ourselves by Robin Talley Life As We Knew It by Susan Beth Bfeffer Let’s Get Lost by Adi Alsaid Seriously Wicked by Tina Connolly The Probability of Miracles by Wendy Wunder Jesus Calling by Sarah Young To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han China Dolls by Lisa See Dreams of Joy by Lisa See The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks The Final Quest by Rick Joyner The Call by Rick Joyner The Torch and the Sword by Rick Joyner The Supernatural Ways of Royalty by Bill Johnson and Kris Vallotton The Normal Supernatural Christian Life by Aliss Cresswell A Diary of Miracles by Aliss Cresswell The Princess Diaries series by Meg Cabot anything by Gordon Korman Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis Darkness Falls by Frank E. Peretti Angels and Demons by Dan Brown The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown Emily of New Moon by L.M. Montgomery Have you ever shopped at… Hot Topic Kmart Goodwill Wet Seal Limited Too/Justice Claire’s JCPenney Walmart Target Sears Payless Shoe Source Rue21 Forever 21 Deb Kohl’s Michael’s Hobby Lobby Toys R Us Barnes and Noble iTunes store Amazon.com Journey’s Icing Sanrio Ross Fred Meyer Monsoon Accessorize Maurices Plato’s Closet Have you ever ate at… Denny’s Pizza Sam’s Applebee’s Arby’s McDonald’s Wendy’s Burger King Sonic Dairy Queen Jade Garden Qdoba KFC Buffalo Wild Wings Steak ‘n’ Shake Rainforest Cafe Hard Rock Cafe The Cheesecake Factory Cold Stone Creamery Krispy Kreme Dougnuts Dunkin’ Donuts Fazzoli’s Olive Garden Old Country Buffet Country Kitchen Auntie Anne’s Panera Bread Panda Express Taco Bell Big Boy Have you ever been to these websites? facebook tumblr myspace PostSecret MaMaMedia nick.com Disney Channel polyvore StumbleUpon Pinterest bored.com blockfrenzy.com PicMonkey meez Have you ever ridden… Millenium Force The Gemini Top Thrill Dragster The Maverick Splash Mountain Space Mountain It’s a Small World Peter Pan’s Flight The Haunted Mansion Rock 'n’ Roller Coaster Goofy’s Barnstormer Big Thunder Mountain Railroad Tower of Terror The Power Tower a ferris wheel a merry-go-round a motorcycle a bicycle in a limousine in a hot air balloon on a boat on a ferry boat on an airplane on a train in a car in a truck a horse an elephant a camel Have you ever collected… rocks stamps dolls journals keychains Beanie Babies pogs Pokemon cards stuffed animals pillows seashells greeting cards stickers bracelets Have you ever watched… a sunset a sunrise falling leaves firefles a star-filled sky a meteor shower a lunar eclipse a solar eclipse the Northern lights a Broadway musical rain fall a thunderstorm snow fall birds Have you ever wished… you were the opposite gender you could run away you were popular you were dead someone would listen to you you were richer you had money to travel anywhere you wanted you were prettier you were older you were younger you could go back to your younger days and live them over again you could disappear you were a different sexuality you were a different person you were loved you were gifted you were nicer you were meaner you were stronger you made less mistakes you could go back in time and change something a certain person would notice you a certain person would ask you out you were accepted by more people you were more outgoing you were more introverted you were more outspoken you were less outspoken you were famous

#this person has to live in Washington State lol #bolding survey

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mama-ghostie-61542 · 6 years

Text

The Hamato Chronicles Ch. 3

Rated M for Mature--Contains disturbing images, racial slurs, and images of war. PTSD trigger WARNING

If ya recognize it, it ain't mine.

Ch 3

Leo POV

After lunch, which was Marlowe’s mac and cheese, we decided to watch a movie. As per normal, Mikey wanted a horror flick, Raph wanted action, and Donnie wanted a documentary. But, we all agreed to let Lowe pick.

She held up The Princess Bride and started laughing so hard she was almost crying. Our brothers smiled and put the movie in.

Marlowe, propped herself on the back of the couch and said to Dad, “Hey Pop. ‘What about the ROUS’?”

Father smiled and leaned against the door frame. “’Rodents of unusual size?’ Hmm,” he said as he played with his tail, twirling it like a chain. “’I don’t think they exist.’”

After the previews, we heard Sensai yell, “’Everybody move!’”

We scrambled to get out of the way. Dad vaulted over the back of the couch and landed next to Marlowe, who hadn’t moved an inch. He settled in to watch the movie with a smile. We all watched as they would laugh about things like they were inside jokes.

Supper was pizza. We had a ball. The banter between all six of us was music to my ears. It was like an important instrument was missing from our little symphony. One by one, we went off to bed. At 3 am, when I got up to go pee, Marlowe was just laying down.

Don’s POV

I was woken up by a muffled scream at 4am. I met Father at the door to the lab. He seemed just as shaken as I was. The scream was most definitely female, so we knew it could only be Marlowe. The two of us ran into her room to see her thrashing on her bed and shrieking ‘NO’ and ‘Joey’. Occasionally, Marlowe would gag and we’d have to roll her to her side.

“Marlowe, you need to wake up,” my father whispered in his panic as he was petting her face.

I was whispering to her the entire time, “Come on, Sissy, wake up.” But it seemed to go on for hours. It was only maybe a minute but it sure felt like more. When her eyes finally fluttered open, she looked like she was going to hurl, so I grabbed her trash can and thrust it under her face. I was just in time. When she was finally finished, she slumped back on her pillows and sobbed. It kills me to see my strong big sister hurting like this.

Marlowe’s POV

I had gone to bed that night, after having a late night brawl with my survivor’s guilt and almost a whole pot of coffee. Suddenly, I was in the middle of another nightmare.

My world was a little fuzzy. I remember this place. This is where we were when our Gunny said to shoot those kids. Suddenly, I felt myself being thrown around and then Joey was in my lap asking me to watch over his little sister. There was so much blood. I tried to hold it all in. I knew what was coming next. Joey bled to death while we waited for the medics. I can still hear the blast coming. I can still feel the heat of the truck as he was blown next to me. I can still feel the hot of his blood on me, can still smell it. Even after the last 6 months it still makes me gag.

I woke up to Donnie holding up a trashcan for me, which I promptly heaved into. Pop was next to me, gently rubbing my back. After empting my stomach of the last two days of its contents, I started sobbing.

My father whispered, “Marlowe, what happened out there?”

“Dad, I only want to tell this story once,” I somehow managed to croak out, “so you had better get everyone up and here.”

Without us knowing it, Leo had gotten up and was standing outside the door. He went to get our other two brothers up while Don called April and Casey. In a half hour, April and Casey walked into the lair.

Donnie handed me a bottle of water.

“Thanks, Double D,” I said hoarsely.

Raph wrapped the couch blanket around my shoulders a few minutes later. “Are you sure you don’t need this, Squeaks? It’s kinda cold.”

He smiled and said softly, “And I’m not tha one shakin’, Marlowe Jean.”

I looked up to see Mikey squirming on the rug. “Angel, go.”

“But I need to be here for you, Lowe.”

“Just go!”

Mikey grumbled as he got up and stalked off in the direction of the bathroom, leaving Marlowe shaking her head. She looked up at April and Casey, “You guys have siblings?”

April said, “No,” while Casey just shook his head.

“I’m going to tell you two the unspoken sibling code,” Marlowe said as she started to tick them off one by one on her fingers. “One, I may love you to bits and pieces, but I am not required to like you. Two, I can beat you up whenever I want, but if someone so much as looks at you in a fashion I don’t approve of, I will kill them. Three, I reserve the right to despise whoever you settle with as no one will ever be good enough. And four, I also reserve the right to spoil any and all of your progeny to the point of rottenness and far beyond, stopping just short of sociopath.”

April and Casey sat stock still, for nearly a whole minute. Then Marlowe smiled and they started laughing.

After hearing Marlowe call the boys by their childhood nicknames a few times, Casey had to ask where they came from, “So about these nick names?”

Marlowe laughed, “I couldn’t say names or features when I was in BASIC or OJT. Uncle Sam likes to read the recruits letters from home and listen in on their phone calls. So, Uncle Pete and I worked out a system where we would use something from when the boys were little as a code name for each of them. When Leo was little, he was really accident prone and had an awesome speech impediment. He couldn’t say ‘Fell’ so it was kabong or kaboom. I started calling him El KaBong in my letters home. Raph was two when he finally started talking.”

Casey grinned, “And now he never shuts-up.”

“Watch it, Jones. He’s is still my little brother and I am still a Marine,” I replied, hotly, as I leveled a glare at the hockey mask wearing vigilante. “Anyway, he’d get so upset he would scream at the top of his lungs for quite a while if you didn’t immediately understand what he was meaning. He would get this squeaky, hoarse voice after throwing those fits. So, when I had to think of a code word for Raph, Squeaks came to mind. Sometimes, if he is exhausted or really sick, I can get away with ‘Squeaker’, but I don’t push it. Donnie had a huge independent streak when he was two. Every time we’d ask if he needed help his answer was always, “NO! Don-Don do!” In my letters home I shortened it to DD or Double D. Mikey has always been Angel. Guess that’s just the big sister thing. I mean, they are all my angels, but he’s always been my Angel.”

Everyone gathered on the couches in the living room, waiting for me to tell them what happened in Afghanistan. Raph sat one side of me, his arm around my shoulders in an attempt to calm the tremors that still wracked my body, while Don was on the other, holding my hand, secretly keeping an eye on my pulse.

My father sat down across from me, “What happened in Afghanistan, Marlowe.”

“I was out with my squad and my SSgt’s Gunny; a guy by the name of Johnson. He was a bastard; called me a ‘prairie squaw’ to my face quite a few times. Anyway, we were doing a patrol in this tiny little town, the kind where one well serves 6 or 8 houses. There were some kids outside, playing with water guns. I remember this one was mutagen green and neon blue. It was obvious they were just playing in the water when they would stop and fill their soakers back up. This Gunny ordered us to ‘Shoot those damned kids’. All four of us were floored. Caitie looked at him and asked, ‘Whaa’. She wasn’t sure she heard him right. Then he yelled, ‘I order you to shoot those damned towelheads in training. Nits make lice. Bet you’d know all about that wouldn’t you, Hamato’. I about lost it. I looked at him and said, ‘Sir, with all due respect, I respectfully decline to follow that order.” He started screaming at me; called me everything but an American Marine. Then he sent me back behind the lines. I was put on temporary restriction for two days and the paperwork for my discharge was started over my wording. There was a guy working supply for quartermaster company, Joey Loveland, who gave me a ride to regional. We were a few miles away from our destination when he yelled ‘Shit’ and threw me out of the cab of that deuce and a half. He was right behind me. He landed right next to me. I can still feel the heat of the blast; can still taste the sand and dust it kicked up. But most of all, I can still feel Joey’s blood on my hands and hear his screaming,” I paused and took a breath as tears ran down my face. “I can still hear him asking me to watch over his little sister.”

“I sat there, trying to keep him alive while screaming through the satellite phone for a medic when he said to stop. He said he knew he wasn’t going to make it, just asked me to take care of Brynnie for him. He died in my arms. Medics finally got there 10 minutes later, but by then I was in shock. I was sedated for three days because I kept trying to scrub his blood off when it was already gone. When I finally came out of it, my Staff Sargent was there and he told me that JAG wanted to talk to me. Turns out, my girls complained. There was no way to stop my discharge but that Gunny got in some big trouble. Come to find out, I had been put in for Staff Sargent half a dozen times when there was a slot and I had the points, but that Gunny kept turning it down. He kept saying that I wasn’t ready for the responsibility. Mind, I had been a Sargent for years, had all my points, was never flagged, and had never failed a PT test. It all boiled down to my gender and skin color.

When I got back to San Diego, I was in pretty bad shape. I couldn’t eat or sleep; I got put into inpatient observation at a VA Hospital there. A week later, I was transferred to a VA hospital in Pierre, South Dakota. Saw at least three Docs there. No one bothered to look at my address on record. It took me almost four months to get them to transfer me to a caseworker in the Bronx. After that fight, I had another month before I could see a Doc about my anxiety; that was more pills. I was lucky that Caitie got out right after me; she let me bunk with her until I found you guys again.

That was a complete stroke of luck. I was headed down into the tunnels on Humboldt and Sherman when I ran into O’Neil. I recognized her from the photos you guys emailed me. She asked how long I’d been home for. Told her I’d been looking for you guys for the better part of a month. She told me she would have you guys come here for a few nights the next week. Then she gave me the number to Pop’s cell. First thing I did when I got back to Cait’s was to lock myself in the bathroom and call dad.”

A/N-- Exact same version on ffn.

#tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt splinter #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt april #tmnt casey jones #the hamato chronicles

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hannah-deserved-better · 6 years

Text

Bunker Pack Chapter One

When Dean parked the impala in front of the massive stone structure almost completely obscured from view, he didn’t know what to expect. From what he could see, it looked exactly like the bunker from Kansas, but the ominous forest it was buried in was nothing like the wide-open prairie they were used to, except for the fact that they were both located so far from civilization that getting to them was no easy feat.

“So just what was this anonymous tip you received, Sammy?” Dean asked as the two of them approached the entrance, their guns both at the ready. A thick misty fog hung in the air, and all around them were the brilliant orange, red, and yellow leaves of a forest in the midst of autumn. The thick smell of birch and pine permeated through the air.

“Just what it sounds like, Dean,” Sam explained. “An anonymous tip. I’ve been making these bunkers. Apparently, the one in Kansas is connected to a network of men of letters bunkers that are scattered all over the world. Many are abandoned, like this one, and we hold the only keys that will open them. I found a few books that list some of their locations and they are all in remote areas like this.”

“Great,” Dean said with a smirk, as Sam inserted the key and opened the door. “I guess we found ourselves a whole lot of vacation spots.”

“Yeah,” Sam focused as they cautiously entered the compound, their guns ready for anything that might take them by surprise. After the incident with the other bunker in Jersey, neither of them were going to take any chances.

The interior of the bunker was just as Dean expected. It was identical to the one in Kansas in nearly every way. The brothers stood on the balcony level entrance overlooking the large main room which was lined with books, filing cabinets, and some antique chairs and conference tables. Even the furniture looked the same.

“I guess whoever built these things weren’t going for originality,” Dean commented as they descended into the main hall.

Just as they made it to the main hall, a slim figure stepped out from behind one of the bookcases on the rear wall. Dean recognized the red-haired woman and immediately lowered his gun.

“Charlie?” he murmured as the woman he’d come to know as a sister approached them, a grim look on her face. “You aren’t our Charlie are you?”

“No, I’m not,” she confirmed. Dean had only been back from the apocalypse world for a few weeks now, but he was still reeling from having encountered apocalypse world, Charlie Bradbury. Seeing her had brought back so many feelings of guilt and remorse over the way his Charlie had been so terrible butchered and how he and Sam had failed her in her time of need.

Now, suddenly, after so many years, she’d been thrust back into their lives, into his life anyway, since Sam hadn’t seen her- until now.

“You’re from the other world,” Sam guessed, his tone of voice betraying his own feelings at seeing Charlie again. “The apocalypse world.”

“How’d you get here?” Dean asked as they moved to stand in front of her. “How long have you been here?”

“We just arrived,” Charlie explained. She wore a dark green jumpsuit, a belt across her waist bore an array of blades, pouches, and supplies. In many ways, she resembled the LAARP fantasy world character their Charlie had liked to roleplay as. But this was another woman altogether. This was a Charlie who was hardened to the harsh realities of the world she’d come from. The flirty, timid, geeky Charlie that they knew had been replaced by a cautious, grim version.

“We?” Sam asked as he and his brother gazed around, looking for any other inhabitants.

“My team and I,” Charlie explained. “They’re out surveying the area and laying out defenses.”

“Defenses?” Dean questioned. Charlie motioned for the brothers to sit down at the wooden conference table and she sat across from them. “When I saw you, you said you didn’t want to come to this world. That you and your friends needed to stay and fight.”

“Yeah that was before we stole Michael’s ingredients for opening the portal,” Charlie pointed out with a shrug. “Some of the ingredients. Dean, we’re here because you need our help.”

“Help with what?” Dean started to see where this might be heading. He was just about to say as much when they were interrupted by a loud crash coming from somewhere in the back of the bunker.

The three of them were quickly on their feet; their weapons were swiftly drawn. Dean noted that Charlie had brandished a large angel blade as she faced the noise.

“Sam go check the perimeter outside,” Dean ordered. Sam nodded and turned back for the entrance of the bunker while Dean and Charlie headed cautiously down the hall.

Another crash and a loud grunt came from one of the bedrooms. The bedroom that had they been in the Kansas bunker would be Dean’s room. The door was left slightly ajar, and Dean swiftly kicked it the rest of the way opened and frowned at the sight.

Castiel was sprawled out on the floor while a brunette woman in a grey blazer coat threatened him with an angel blade. When the two of them both looked in their direction, Dean blinked. She was familiar. How could Dean have forgotten the little angel cult Castiel had found himself the leader of back in the Metatron days?

“Uh, Hannah, right?” Dean asked, lowering his weapon. The women frowned at the recognition of her name, but she quickly turned back to Castiel, eyes fixating on him as she moved back, letting him slowly get to her feet.

“Yes,” she said timidly, not looking at Charlie or Dean, but focusing entirely on Castiel. Both angels looked as though they had just seen a ghost. And in Castiel’s case, that might as well have been true since Hannah had been dead for almost three years.

“Hannah…” Castiel breathed, equally fixated on her. “How can…”

“She’s with me,” Charlie blurted out quickly to Castiel. Dean gave her a quizzical look, and she quickly corrected. “I mean… she’s not with me, not like that. She’s part of my team. She’s kinda our angel. And you…”

“From the apocalypse world?” Castiel surmised, glancing at Dean who nodded in confirmation. Hannah nodded.

“There… was a Castiel in my world,” she said softly before shyly fixing her gaze to the floor. “He’s dead.”

“That is unfortunate,” Castiel replied as he moved over to stand with Dean. “And… awkward.”

Dean thought he saw some kind of emotion flash through Castiel’s blue eyes, but he couldn’t quite tell. The angel didn’t have an extensive range of emotions, and he often had difficulty expressing the ones he did feel. But there was definitely something there. Dean never knew how close Castiel and Hannah had gotten years ago when they worked together, Cas had often kept his excursions when he wasn’t with the Winchesters a bit of a secret, though Dean had suspected they had gotten close.

“Did you secure the rest of the place?” Charlie asked Hannah as the four of them headed back to the main room. Dean noted that Sam hadn’t returned yet and felt concerned, but concentrated on Charlie, as he suspected she wasn’t paying a house call here.

“Yes,” Hannah replied curtly as they all took a seat back at the wooden conference table. Dean noted that Hannah no longer made eye contact with Castiel, and in fact, seemed to be trying to avoid his attention, as she sat next to Charlie, almost in a defensive posture, scooting her seat as close to Charlie’s as she could get it.

“How did you find us, Cas?” Dean asked as the angel sat next to him. Castiel shrugged.

“I monitored the movements of the impala on occasion,” he explained. “I admit I did not expect to find another bunker, nor did I expect to find Charlie or… Hannah…” he spared a glance in the angel woman’s direction, but Hannah kept her focus.

“Hannah’s been part of my team for about nine years,” Charlie explained. “Ever since we liberated her from a death camp.”

“A what?” Dean blinked. He didn’t like the sound of that and Hannah seemed to visibly flinch at the mention of it.

“It’s not important right now,” Charlie said, sensing Hannah’s discomfort. “Let me get to the reason we’re here.”

“Yeah I’ve been waiting for that,” Dean said as he glanced in the direction of the entrance, wondering what was taking Sam so long. “You said something about Michael and us needing your help. Care to explain?”

“Yeah, Michael is looking for a way to get into this world so he can do to you what he’s done to us,” Charlie explained. “He nearly succeeded until my resistance group, and I stole the ingredients he needed. We used them to get here and help you prepare. There’s nothing from stopping him from gathering the ingredients again, Dean and it’s only a matter of time.”

Dean and Castiel exchanged grim glances. They both knew what this could mean. If Michael got to this world, he could wage the same kind of human exterminating war that Charlie had just come back from. Dean shuttered to think of the invasion. He looked at Charlie.

“So you just came to warn us?” he asked.

“Not just warn you, prepare you,” Charlie replied. “My team and I have been fighting angels all of our lives. We know what to expect. So that’s the mission. Prepare for the invasion.”

“Got it,” Dean said. Just as he said that he heard the door creak open behind him and glanced up at the balcony deck just as Sam emerged, hands up against his head. Dean frowned, then his eyes lit up as he saw the two women who were holding his brother at gunpoint.

“It’s okay, he’s with us,” Charlie called up to them. Then he glanced at Dean. “Dean Winchester, Sam, Castiel, meet the rest of my team. Eileen Leahy and-”

“Jo,” Dean murmured, gazing up at the blonde haired woman who lowered the weapon she had fixed on Sam. She shot him a harsh glare when he said her name, but he didn't care. “Jo Harvelle.”

#chestervelle #Hanstiel #apocalypseworld

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hannah-deserved-better · 5 years

Text

Bunker Pack Ch.1

Summary: Charlie Bradbury arrives from the Apocalypse world with her team of soldiers Jo Harvelle, Eileen Leahy, and Hannah, to prepare Sam, Dean, and Castiel for the invasion of Michael, but are also faced with this world's many challenges, including the impending extinction of the angels.

Trigger warning; this will be a pretty dark story with mentions of various types of torture.

Note: This is an older fic and one of my very first in the Supernatural fandom. It was written around the beginning of season 13 so there’s a lot about that season and season 14 in canon that hadn’t yet been covered so you can consider this AU.

When Dean parked the impala in front of the massive stone structure almost completely obscured from view, he didn't know what to expect. From what he could see, it looked exactly like the bunker from Kansas, but the ominous forest it was buried in was nothing like the wide-open prairie they were used to, except for the fact that they were both located so far from civilization that getting to them was no easy feat.

"So just what was this anonymous tip you received, Sammy?" Dean asked as the two of them approached the entrance, their guns both at the ready. A thick misty fog hung in the air, and all around them were the brilliant orange, red, and yellow leaves of a forest in the midst of autumn. The thick smell of birch and pine permeated through the air.

"Just what it sounds like, Dean," Sam explained. "An anonymous tip. I've been making these bunkers. Apparently, the one in Kansas is connected to a network of men of letters bunkers that are scattered all over the world. Many are abandoned, like this one, and we hold the only keys that will open them. I found a few books that list some of their locations and they are all in remote areas like this."

"Great," Dean said with a smirk, as Sam inserted the key and opened the door. "I guess we found ourselves a whole lot of vacation spots."

"Yeah," Sam focused as they cautiously entered the compound, their guns ready for anything that might take them by surprise. After the incident with the other bunker in Jersey, neither of them were going to take any chances.

"I guess whoever built these things weren't going for originality," Dean commented as they descended into the main hall.

Just as they made it to the main hall, a slim figure stepped out from behind one of the bookcases on the rear wall. Dean recognized the red-haired woman and immediately lowered his gun.

"Charlie?" he murmured as the woman he'd come to know as a sister approached them, a grim look on her face. "You aren't our Charlie are you?"

"No, I'm not," she confirmed. Dean had only been back from the apocalypse world for a few weeks now, but he was still reeling from having encountered apocalypse world, Charlie Bradbury. Seeing her had brought back so many feelings of guilt and remorse over the way his Charlie had been so terrible butchered and how he and Sam had failed her in her time of need.

Now, suddenly, after so many years, she'd been thrust back into their lives, into his life anyway, since Sam hadn't seen her- until now.

"You're from the other world," Sam guessed, his tone of voice betraying his own feelings at seeing Charlie again. "The apocalypse world."

"How'd you get here?" Dean asked as they moved to stand in front of her. "How long have you been here?"

"We just arrived," Charlie explained. She wore a dark green jumpsuit, a belt across her waist bore an array of blades, pouches, and supplies. In many ways, she resembled the LAARP fantasy world character their Charlie had liked to roleplay as. But this was another woman altogether. This was a Charlie who was hardened to the harsh realities of the world she'd come from. The flirty, timid, geeky Charlie that they knew had been replaced by a cautious, grim version.

"We?" Sam asked as he and his brother gazed around, looking for any other inhabitants.

"My team and I," Charlie explained. "They're out surveying the area and laying out defenses."

"Defenses?" Dean questioned. Charlie motioned for the brothers to sit down at the wooden conference table and she sat across from them. "When I saw you, you said you didn't want to come to this world. That you and your friends needed to stay and fight."

"Yeah that was before we stole Michael's ingredients for opening the portal," Charlie pointed out with a shrug. "Some of the ingredients. Dean, we're here because you need our help."

"Help with what?" Dean started to see where this might be heading. He was just about to say as much when they were interrupted by a loud crash coming from somewhere in the back of the bunker.

The three of them were quickly on their feet; their weapons were swiftly drawn. Dean noted that Charlie had brandished a large angel blade as she faced the noise.

"Sam go check the perimeter outside," Dean ordered. Sam nodded and turned back for the entrance of the bunker while Dean and Charlie headed cautiously down the hall.

Another crash and a loud grunt came from one of the bedrooms. The bedroom that had they been in the Kansas bunker would be Dean's room. The door was left slightly ajar, and Dean swiftly kicked it the rest of the way opened and frowned at the sight.

"Uh, Hannah, right?" Dean asked, lowering his weapon. The women frowned at the recognition of her name, but she quickly turned back to Castiel, eyes fixating on him as she moved back, letting him slowly get to her feet.

"Yes," she said timidly, not looking at Charlie or Dean, but focusing entirely on Castiel. Both angels looked as though they had just seen a ghost. And in Castiel's case, that might as well have been true since Hannah had been dead for almost three years.

"Hannah…" Castiel breathed, equally fixated on her. "How can…"

"She's with me," Charlie blurted out quickly to Castiel. Dean gave her a quizzical look, and she quickly corrected. "I mean… she's not with me, not like that. She's part of my team. She's kinda our angel. And you…"

"From the apocalypse world?" Castiel surmised, glancing at Dean who nodded in confirmation. Hannah nodded.

"There… was a Castiel in my world," she said softly before shyly fixing her gaze to the floor. "He's dead."

"That is unfortunate," Castiel replied as he moved over to stand with Dean. "And… awkward."

Dean thought he saw some kind of emotion flash through Castiel's blue eyes, but he couldn't quite tell. The angel didn't have an extensive range of emotions, and he often had difficulty expressing the ones he did feel. But there was definitely something there. Dean never knew how close Castiel and Hannah had gotten years ago when they worked together, Cas had often kept his excursions when he wasn't with the Winchesters a bit of a secret, though Dean had suspected they had gotten close.

"Did you secure the rest of the place?" Charlie asked Hannah as the four of them headed back to the main room. Dean noted that Sam hadn't returned yet and felt concerned, but concentrated on Charlie, as he suspected she wasn't paying a house call here.

"Yes," Hannah replied curtly as they all took a seat back at the wooden conference table. Dean noted that Hannah no longer made eye contact with Castiel, and in fact, seemed to be trying to avoid his attention, as she sat next to Charlie, almost in a defensive posture, scooting her seat as close to Charlie's as she could get it.

"How did you find us, Cas?" Dean asked as the angel sat next to him. Castiel shrugged.

"I monitored the movements of the impala on occasion," he explained. "I admit I did not expect to find another bunker, nor did I expect to find Charlie or… Hannah…" he spared a glance in the angel woman's direction, but Hannah kept her focus.

"Hannah's been part of my team for about nine years," Charlie explained. "Ever since we liberated her from a death camp."

"A what?" Dean blinked. He didn't like the sound of that and Hannah seemed to visibly flinch at the mention of it.

"It's not important right now," Charlie said, sensing Hannah's discomfort. "Let me get to the reason we're here."

"Yeah I've been waiting for that," Dean said as he glanced in the direction of the entrance, wondering what was taking Sam so long. "You said something about Michael and us needing your help. Care to explain?"

"Yeah, Michael is looking for a way to get into this world so he can do to you what he's done to us," Charlie explained. "He nearly succeeded until my resistance group, and I stole the ingredients he needed. We used them to get here and help you prepare. There's nothing from stopping him from gathering the ingredients again, Dean and it's only a matter of time."

"So you just came to warn us?" he asked.

"Not just warn you, prepare you," Charlie replied. "My team and I have been fighting angels all of our lives. We know what to expect. So that's the mission. Prepare for the invasion."

"Got it," Dean said. Just as he said that he heard the door creak open behind him and glanced up at the balcony deck just as Sam emerged, hands up against his head. Dean frowned, then his eyes lit up as he saw the two women who were holding his brother at gunpoint.

"It's okay, he's with us," Charlie called up to them. Then he glanced at Dean. "Dean Winchester, Sam, Castiel, meet the rest of my team. Eileen Leahy and-"

"Jo," Dean murmured, gazing up at the blonde haired woman who lowered the weapon she had fixed on Sam. She shot him a harsh glare when he said her name, but he didn't care. "Jo Harvelle."

#castiel/Hannah #Castiel #apocalypseworld #AU: Hannah #AU: Eileen Leahy #AU: Charlie Bradbury #AU: Jo Harvelle

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