#i think it was dorothy day who said this? could be wrong i just woke up

[iscariotapologist]

mysticism is about mutual desire and surrender and, crucially, doing the dishes

#^ guy who needs to climb the sisyphean hill of the dishes #i think it was dorothy day who said this? could be wrong i just woke up #me

[rosyfingereddawnn]

no place like home

pairing: jimmy page x reader

warnings: none, it's just so fluffy

words: 1.2k

summary: movie nights with jimmy have become a regular occurence, and tonight, you're whisked away to the wonderful land of oz.

author’s note: this is purely because the wizard of oz is a comfort movie of mine, and jimmy name-dropped judy garland in an interview. he has seen the movie, mark my words. also i love yardbean jimmy so much :’) enjoy! <3

“What are we watching tonight, love?”

Being part of the world-famous Yardbirds, Jimmy’s schedule was hectic, to put it lightly. On the road as often as he was, there wasn’t much time to catch up on the recent trends in pop culture, including any films he might have missed or neglected. When he told you that he hadn’t seen Alice in Wonderland, the gasp that left your lips could be heard for miles.

As a result, you and Jimmy resolved to watch a movie every weekend that you were together, alternating every week who got to choose. The quality time spent together was but a hidden perk, of course.

“Isn’t it your week, Jim?” you reply, smiling warmly at him as he walks into the quaint living room with two steaming mugs of tea. Taking the warm mug from his hand with a “thank you” whispered into the air between you, you take a sip. Comforting hints of bergamot and vanilla dance on your tongue, the sigh leaving your lips full of contentment. Sweet honey softens the rich, striking spices, and it feels like coming home after a long day. “Earl Gray, with a teaspoon of honey. You remembered.”

“Of course I remembered,” Jimmy sips from his own mug, his hands cradling it carefully, aiming to absorb every ounce of warmth that seeps into his palms. Glancing over at you as you melt into his embrace, he smiles, cheeks flushing a delicate pink. “Nothing about you is exactly easy to forget, love.”

“Sap.” A playful slap to his chest follows, a sound of protest courtesy of Jimmy echoing through the room. He frowns, green eyes sparkling with amusement, and leans over to press his lips to yours tenderly.

“You love me.”

“ I do. Sure hope that’s okay with you.”

“You know it is, Y/N,” he chuckles, music to your ears as you gaze up at him, enraptured by his bright, careless smile. It seems he’s always stressed, lately, and these movie nights are a lifeline, allowing him to be unguarded and vulnerable. Pure, and completely in love. “You’re right, I believe it is my turn. After all, I did sit through the entirety of Psycho for you last week.”

“What was wrong with it? I thought it was entertaining!”

“The pacing was all wrong, love. Though, I did appreciate you hiding your face in my chest the entire time.”

“What can I say? You were comfy.”

“Forgive me, I was under the impression that it had scared you,” Jimmy chuckles, his arm winding around you to pull you closer. You roll your eyes, a reluctant smile blooming across your features. “I’ll protect you from the big, bad Norman Bates. Don’t you worry.”

“My knight in shining armour,” you drawl, smiling up at him with nothing but love in your eyes. Pecking him on the cheek before he could react, you unwind your arms from around his waist. He grumbles at the lack of contact, and you giggle, twining your fingers in his hair to push a loose strand behind his ear. He needed a haircut soon, you realize. “Go pick your movie, Sir Page.”

He rises from the homely couch with a huff and moves towards the black milk crate sat in the corner of the room. Jimmy, a firm lover of every conceivable form of art, had always been quite interested in film. Around you, he often quoted the movies he had seen, sometimes taking on a comical voice to sell it. Now left with more money than he knew what to do with, Jimmy invested in a rather expensive projector, frequenting the local library to survey the films in stock. As he rifles through the selection of hard-shelled reel cases he had picked up for the week, you can’t help but appreciate the view of his bum from his crouched position. Your lover has fine assets, after all.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a noise of surprise, as Jimmy turns to face you, his eyes twinkling with excitement in the warm light of the living room. In his hand sits a film case,  meticulously labelled, as all things are in his house, in black sharpie. He’s nothing if not organized, you think. The slip of paper, in his own writing, reads, ‘The Wizard of Oz’, hastily drawn stars surrounding the title. This definitely wasn’t a copy from the library...

“Why don’t we watch this? I… just happened to find it at the bottom of the crate, and it seems as good a time as any to revisit it.”

“It’s okay, Jimmy. You can come out and say you like musicals.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jimmy replies, scratching the back of his neck, a smirk creeping onto his face as he looks back at you. Setting up the tape, he reclines back on the couch as the opening music swells. Dragging the blanket resting on the arm of the couch around the two of you, your head settles on his shoulder. Warmth fills you as his arms encircle you once more, and the pressure of soft lips landing in your hair sends your heart aflutter. The two of you, content in the other’s embrace, lose yourselves in the bittersweet story.

Dorothy’s smooth voice, clear like a crystalline stream, filters through the dimly-lit room, bringing a smile to your face. Looking up at Jimmy, you take in the way his eyes never leave the screen, colours swirling in the shining surface like a mirror. Faintly, you can hear the sound of humming. When you delicately press your head to his chest, you feel the rumbling of his low voice as he sings along under his breath.

Sound seems to fade away not long after, as you fight to keep your eyes open. You’ve never felt as safe as you do right now, cocooned in his warmth. Moving your head to rest in the junction of his jaw and neck, your palm lands over his heart. The guitarist’s steady pulse against your hand pulls you ever-closer to sleep. Blinking tiredly, you tilt your head to look back up at him. Weary eyes threaten to close, opening only to see long, dark eyelashes fluttering against alabaster skin.

There were marks, dark purple in colour, painted under his eyes. He was exhausted, wearing himself thin over the last month. The one time he wasn’t stressed out, anxiety thrumming through his body, was during these nights with you. Jimmy could finally relax, content in the knowledge that you were in his arms. That you would be there when he woke up.

Gently carding a hand through his curls, you settle against him, head returning to it’s comfortable spot on his shoulder. Soon enough, you feel the weight of his head settle against yours, his arms curled protectively around you even in slumber, and you let your eyes flutter closed.

The Scarecrow gets his brains, while the Tinman receives his coveted heart; The Lion gains his courage, and Dorothy finally finds her way back to Kansas, though both of you are none the wiser.

Dorothy had said that there’s no place like home. Curled up, sheltered by Jimmy’s body wrapped around you like a safety blanket, you’re sure that it’s the truth after all.

Jimmy is your home, and you wouldn’t trade him for anything the world could offer.

------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso @jonesyjonesyjonesy @jimmypages (let me know if you want to be added!)

#jimmy page #led zeppelin #jimmy page x reader #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic #reader insert

[thebrotherssalvatore321]

Keeping Secrets Ch. 53

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

Katie laid in bed on her side, her eyes taking in Klaus who was sleeping on his side facing her. His lips were parted as slow quiet breaths slipped between them and his eyes were closed, but Katie could see them moving around behind his eyelids. When his brow creased she thought he might be having a nightmare. So in an attempt to soothe him she slipped her fingertips over his creased forehead and down the bridge of his nose. She was pulling her hand back when he jerked awake. For a split second the look in his blue eyes suggested he’d forgotten where he was, but as he fully woke up and saw her he relaxed. “Bad dream?” she asked quietly. He hummed a positive answer. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” he shook his head and turned onto his back then held his arm out for her. So she scooted over and laid her head on his shoulder. He started playing with her hair enjoying the silence. “How high do you think the chances are of us spending the whole day together uninterrupted?”

“Not very if I’m being honest.” She answered. “At some point we’re going to have to deal with the fallout of last night’s attack.” Katie pointed out. “And my stomach has been growling for the past thirty minutes. I’m surprised that’s not what woke you up.”

“If you’re hungry, why haven’t you eaten yet?” he asked curiously.

“I was afraid you would wake up if I left the bed.” she answered with a look up at him.

Klaus heaved out a breath, not liking that she was going hungry for his sake, as he turned over to grab his phone off the bedside table. He called the kitchen maid and told him what to bring up for breakfast. “There, problem solved.”

“I forget there are people here being paid to wait on us hand and foot.” She sighed as he wrapped his arm back around her and resumed playing with her hair.

“You should utilize it more often.” He told her with a look down at her stomach.

“I’ll try, but it’s hard to get used to having people wait on me when a little over two years ago I was the one waiting on people for what little tips they decided to leave me.” she said as she looked down at his hand on her belly. “How does your little princess sound this morning?” she asked, missing the time when she could hear her child’s heartbeat.

“Healthy as ever.” He answered with a small smile. “Have you thought any more about a name for this little one?”

“I still can’t come up with a first name, but I have a middle name in mind.” She admitted.

“Are you going to keep me guessing or are you going to share it with me?” he asked with a bit of a smirk.

“Dorothy.” Katie answered.

“Like ‘The Wizard of Oz’?” Klaus asked. “You were named after a ‘Gone With The Wind’ character so you want to name our child after another iconic heroine?”

“No.” Katie laughed. “After my mother, Dorothea.”

“Your first mother or your second?” he asked curiously.

“Second.” Katie answered. “I wouldn’t name a dung beetle after my first mother, much less our child.”

“You don’t talk about your first mother much.” Klaus commented as he turned onto his side so he could see her face better.

“There’s not much to say.” Katie shrugged and Klaus gave her a look that told her he wanted to know more about her past, things she hadn’t written about in the journals he’d read. “She was…cold. My sister and I…we were just a wifely duty and one she considered a failure because we weren’t boys who could carry on the Easton name.” Katie answered, earning a frown from Klaus. “Not once did I ever see a glimmer of love in that woman’s eyes. Not even for my sister.”

“What do you mean, not even for your sister?” Klaus asked, noticing the distant look her eyes took on while talking about her first life.

“She was the golden child. Poised, polite, obedient, beautiful like our mother…everything our father could have asked for in a girl, but she was still a girl. So…” Katie shrugged suggesting that even perfection could save them from their father’s hatred. “I on the other hand looked like a feminine copy of my father with a smart mouth and a defiant attitude.”

“Well, I happen to like your smart mouth and your sister sounds like the perfect match for Finn” He told her as he leaned in and caught her lips with his in a short kiss. “And I like Dorothy.”

TVDTVDTVD

Katie was sitting in the kitchen finishing up her lunch when Klaus found her. “Are you feeling up to a visit to the church?” he asked as he slipped his hand over her shoulders and she looked up at his worried face.

“Sure, what’s up?” she asked as she pushed her empty plate away.

“Marcel contacted me. Father Kieran isn’t doing well and Marcel is worried about Cami. He would go check on her himself, but-”

“But he’s been banned from the quarter.” She finished as she hopped down off the stool. “Let me grab my bag and I’ll meet you in the courtyard.”

TVDTVDTVD

Josh, Cami and a doctor stood around Father Kieran who was restrained in a chair. Josh was putting a gag into Kieran's mouth. “Well, isn’t this a gruesome little scene?” Klaus asked, announcing their presence.

Cami turned to them with wide eyes. “Klaus, Katie, what are you doing here?”

“I received an urgent call on your behalf.” Klaus answered. “It seems we’ve been tasked with doing what your coward of a boyfriend could not.” Klaus and Katie walked further into the attic that used to be Davina’s room. “Which, by the looks of things, is dissuading you from whatever madness it is you’re about to attempt.”

“ECT?” Katie asked with a look at the machine sitting behind Father Kieran’s chair. “Is he really that far gone that you have to resort to shock therapy?”

Cami ignored her and turned to the doctor in the room. “Are you ready?”

“Please.” The doctor replied, “I’m begging you, don’t force me to do this.”

“Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Cami said as she walked around him, grabbed the electrodes and dipped them in clear gel. Katie looked up at Klaus afraid of what she was about to see done to an innocent man like Father Kieran.

Klaus slipped his arm around Katie’s waist and pulled her into his side. “Camille, your uncle is a good man. He shouldn’t suffer.” He reasoned.

“He’s been suffering for weeks.” Cami argued. “He’s dying, Klaus. This might be the only chance he’s got.” She put the electrodes to her uncle’s temples causing him to yell in pain. Katie flinched and bit her lips closed, hating seeing the man in pain.

When Cami pulled the electrodes away, Klaus left her side to take the electrodes from Cami who moved to her uncle’s side. Kieran sniffled and looked at Cami, seeming to be lucid for a second as he said her name, but soon after his face changed to hateful and glaring, “What the hell did you do to me?”

“We have to do it again.” Cami moved back behind Kieran’s chair.

“Whoa, are you serious?” Josh asked.

“That was something coherent. It’s working.” Cami put her hand on the electrodes, but Klaus put his hand on hers stopping her.

“Doctor,” Klaus started, “See to your patient.” The doctor clicked a pen light on and shined it in Kieran’s eyes. The machine tracking Father Kieran’s vitals was beeping rapidly and irregularly.

“His heartbeat is irregular. We can’t keep this up. It’ll kill him.” The doctor informed them all.

“No!” Cami tried to take a step toward her uncle, but Klaus stepped in the way.

“Cami, we need to have a word, in private.” Klaus then walked over to Katie and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You and Joshua get the doctor and his machine out of here.” Katie gave him a nod then waited for him and Cami to be out of ear shot.

Katie unplugged the ECT machine and handed it to the doctor. “Josh, do your thing.” she said with a jerk of her head to the doctor. “He needs to get out of here before things get too bad.”

Josh nodded and ushered the doctor out of the attic. While they were gone Katie stood by the door to the attic waiting for Klaus and Cami to come back. Kieran stared at her for a few seconds before he looked to the side as if someone were talking to him. Then out of nowhere he growled and bit his thumb off, pulling it from the restraint as he lunged at her. She yelped and stumbled back out of the doorway only for father Kieran to slam into an invisible wall. Someone had put a boundary spell on the attic.

Having heard her yelp Klaus whooshed up to her only to see that she was safe and Father K. was beating on the invisible wall with a thumbless hand, his other one was still attached to the chair behind him. A few minutes later Josh came back to see what had happened. The two vampires got Kieran on the bed and restrained him while Katie grabbed the sedative left behind by the doctor and drew up the appropriate amount for a man his size.

Only after he was sedated did Katie pull a chair up beside the bed and start working on bandaging the priest’s hand. She was almost done when Klaus’s phone started ringing. He answered it, had a short conversation with the person on the other end then hung up. “What’s wrong?” Katie asked, noticing the frown on his face.

“Someone bombed the bayou.” He answered.

“Should you go do something about it?” Katie asked with wide eyes.

“No, we’re needed here. Elijah can handle the bayou bombing.” He answered with a shake of his head then called Elijah.

Katie, Klaus and Cami were standing around Father Kieran’s bed when the machine flat lined and he started fighting to breathe. “He’s in cardiac arrest.” Katie announced with a look at the monitor.

“You might want to look away.” Klaus told Cami before he plunged his fist into the priest’s chest.

“What are you doing?!” Cami asked, shocked by what Klaus had just done.

“Massaging his heart.” Klaus answered and the monitor started beeping again. “His body is shutting down. Even with my help he doesn’t have much time.”

“Your blood.” Cami said, desperately looking for a way to save her only family. “If you fed him your blood, he’d wake back up, right?”

“As a vampire in transition, yes.” Klaus answered with a look at Katie who stood on the other side of the bed watching him massage Kieran’s heart. “As for the hex,” he shook his head and looked at Cami over his shoulder, “perhaps his death will be a mercy.”

Tears slipped down Cami’s cheeks. “Do it.” her eyes slipped closed and she shook her head. “Just do it. Please, Klaus, I can’t let him die, not like this.”

Klaus looked at Katie for her opinion and she nodded her head. So he bit his wrist, placed it to the priest’s lips then took his hand from his chest and let his heart stop beating.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie and Klaus sat on a pew in the sanctuary while Cami lit a candle for her uncle. “Why did you agree with turning him?” Klaus asked quietly.

“Because the chances of the priest actually wanting to become a vampire are incredibly low, he won’t turn. He will still die, but if becoming a transitioning vampire will break the hex then they will have the chance to say goodbye and Cami will get the closure that she didn’t have the opportunity too with her brother.” She answered. “It was the only way to make things even close to right in this screwed up situation.”

Klaus kissed her then stood and went to Cami and told her Kieran should be waking up soon. So they all went up to the attic to be there when he woke.

Katie and Klaus stood at the foot of his bed while Cami sat beside him. Cami jumped a little when Kieran sat straight up then looked at her. “Cami, what happened?” he asked with a look at her then Katie and Klaus before he spun around and put his feet on the floor. “The hex…I could feel it like a living thing inside of me.” he looked at his hand to see that the x between his thumb and index finger was gone. “It’s gone.” Cami engulfed her uncle in a hug with tears in her eyes. When he hugged her back he saw his bandaged hand and missing thumb. “Oh my god.”

“Yes, you’ve had a trying day, Father.” Klaus said as he tucked his hands behind his back. Kieran looked around with an odd look on his face, probably realizing he didn’t feel normal. “How best to break it to you? It appears the hex was broken by your death.”

“Back up.” Kieran said, then looked at Klaus and Katie out of the corners of his eyes. “I died? For how long?”

“A few hours or so.” Katie answered.

“I’m sorry.” Cami told him with tears slipping down her cheeks. “I just couldn’t lose you, not like that. I made him give you his blood.”

“I see.” Kieran sighed. “So the devil has a deal for me after all.”

“Actually, you could still go where you’re supposed to.” Katie spoke up not wanting him to think he was damned to hell just because he’d died with vampire blood in his system.

“What do you mean?” Klaus asked, wondering what she was talking about.

Katie looked up at Klaus, “Your mother told Elena that even though you turned Jenna her soul remained pure. So she didn’t get trapped on the other side like most supernatural creatures.” She looked at Kieran, “She passed on and found peace and I believe it would be no different for you. I’m sure you know that if you don’t feed you’ll die, but Jenna fed and still remained pure, so if you want to have more time to-”

“Katie,” the priest interrupted as politely as he could, “I appreciate the options you're trying to give me, but I do not want to transition.” Kieran looked up at Cami who wiped a tear on her face. “Please leave me with my niece. I’d like a private moment to talk with her.”

When Klaus and Katie didn’t move, afraid to leave Cami alone with him Cami moved to Klaus and placed her hand on his upper arm. “It’s okay. Thank you for today, both of you, for being kind.” Katie wanted to say she didn’t do anything, but thought better of it and just gave her a small smile and a nod of her head. They both headed down stairs.

“I think I know who was behind the attack on the bayou.” Klaus told her as they came to a stop in the middle of the isle of the sanctuary.

“Really, who?” Katie asked with a frown.

“I think Genevieve has figured us out and she is taking it out on us by attempting to foil our peace with the wolves.” He told her and she nodded. “I need to go speak with her.”

“I’ll stay here.” Katie told him, making him sigh and give her a look that told her he wished she would let him take her home. “Cami doesn’t need to be alone right now and Father Kieran is better. I’ll be okay.”

“Call Nate. I don’t want either of you here alone with him.” He told her then leaned down and kissed her then left her behind.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie was sitting on a pew at the front of the sanctuary, waiting on Nate, while Cami sat in the upper balcony, taking a moment for herself when Katie heard Cami ask, “Have you changed your mind?” Katie looked behind her to see that Kieran had left the attic. Not a minute later Cami yelped then jumped over the balcony railing.

“Shit.” Katie cursed as she took her bag off of her shoulder, grabbed a vervain grenade then tossed the bag to the side. Kieran whooshed downstairs grabbed Cami and threw her into a pew, breaking it. Katie yelped and hid behind the pew she had been sitting on. When she saw Kieran pull Cami past her to the front of the sanctuary then grab her hair and make her stand on her knees, Cami saw Katie. Kieran was too occupied, listening to the voices in his head, people he saw that they didn’t, to see Katie mouth, “Cover your face.” and shield her own with her arm. When Cami’s face was shielded Katie pulled the pin on the vervain grenade in her hand then threw it at Kieran. When it wet off he screamed out in pain and let go of Cami’s hair. Katie ran to Cami. “We have to run, now.” Katie helped her to her feet and they were almost to the front doors when Kieran whooshed in front of them, his eyes red and framed by veins.

But before he could hurt them, his neck was broken. As he fell to the side, Nate came into view. Before Katie could say anything Cami went limp against her. “Whoa, hey.” Nate said as he stepped up and took the dead weight off of Katie. He was laying Cami on the floor when Klaus whooshed in, stopping when he saw Kieran passed out on the floor.

“What happened?” Klaus asked as he walked around Kieran to Katie, his eyes scanning her for any injury.

“Kieran’s hex came back.” Katie answered feeling a little faint herself as the adrenaline that has been coursing through her since Cami jumped off the balcony backed off. “He tried to kill us, but Nate whooshed in and broke his neck before he could.”

Klaus looked at Nate, “You know, I was wary of you at first.” Klaus told him as he wrapped his arm around Katie’s waist.

“What, have I finally gotten on your very short list of trusted people?” Nate asked as he stood up.

“No, however you do have my gratitude.” Klaus told him with a half smirk.

Katie smiled and shook her head at Klaus. “Okay, so what do we do about Father Crazy Pants?” she asked as she turned around looking at the still passed out priest. “He was dangerous enough when he was human.”

Klaus walked over to the broken pew and grabbed a sharp piece of wood. “I think there’s only one thing we can do, what both of them would have wanted.” Klaus kneeled down and drove the stake into Father Kieran’s heart causing veins to rise to the surface of his skin that turned grayish purple.

Katie stayed with Nate and the still passed out Cami while Klaus carried Father K. up to the attic and placed him on the bed so he wouldn’t be the first thing seen when someone entered the church. “Father Crazy Pants?” Nate asked with a serious look at her. “That was a little disrespectful don’t you think?”

“Yeah…I didn’t mean for it to be. It was an attempt to lighten the mood that failed.” Katie explained and Nate just smirked and rolled his eyes at her.

When Klaus came back, Nate left then Klaus scooped Cami up in his arms and they brought her home. Klaus laid her in her bed then they sat in her living room waiting for her to wake up. “I was wrong about Genevieve. She has no idea that we’re still together. The bayou bombing wasn’t her.”

“Then who was it?” Katie asked with a frown. “Marcel?”

“No.” Klaus answered with a shake of his head. “There were women and children who were killed in that bombing.” Katie gave him a ‘so?’ look. “Marcel has one rule he never breaks. He never hurts children.”

“So if not the witches or either group of vampires…then who? The human’s, they have no reason to go after the wolves.” Katie asked.

Before Klaus could answer Cami called, “Marcel?” from the darkness of her bedroom.

“Are those two together now?” Katie asked and Klaus just hummed a positive answer as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Katie saw Marcel’s name on the screen before Klaus hit call.

“Klaus, you need to know I had nothing to do with that business out in the bayou today.” Katie heard Marcel clearly in the silence of the room.

“I never thought you did.” Klaus replied. “I’m calling to let you know the priest is dead. Your exile is suspended for the next 24 hours. You may return to the quarter to bury your friend.”

“Why are you doing this?” Marcel asked, confused by Klaus’s mercy.

“Cami woke in the dark not knowing where she was or who was watching over her. It was your name she called.” Klaus answered. “If you can grant her comfort, so be it.”

“I’m on my way.” Marcel answered then hung up.

“That was nice of you.” Katie commented.

“If the situation were reversed, if Marcel were here and you in Cami’s place calling out my name in the dark, I’d like to think Marcel would do the same.” He explained as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

In a matter of minutes, a knock sounded on the door and Klaus answered it, letting Marcel in. He went straight to Cami so Katie and Klaus left.

TVDTVDTVD

The next morning Katie once again woke before Klaus and after watching his restless sleep she brushed his slightly wavy hair back out of his face. When her fingertips touched his scalp Klaus’s dream took over her mind's eye. He was in the church, looking down at a baby in a coffin. “Hi.” He cooed to the baby then started to pick it up, but the sharp squish of a stake through his body made him stand up straight, blood poured from his mouth as his eyes met hers seeing her in his dream. But her eyes were trained on Mikael who stood behind him, his hand on the indestructible white oak stake that was sticking out of Klaus’s chest.

Klaus turned to face his father who grabbed him by the neck. “Greetings, Boy.”

Klaus took in a guttural breath, waking from his dream with a start and Katie pulled back her hand. Klaus’s eyes found hers that were frowning at him in worry. He squeezed his eyes closed and pulled her closer, resting his forehead on her chest. It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it. So she simply placed her hand on the back of his neck and rubbed it comfortingly.

Eventually, though they got out of bed, showered and dressed for Father Kieran’s wake at Rousseau’s. When they walked into the bar, cheery music was being played by a band in the corner while people drank and a few danced. “How could I have guessed that a New Orleans wake would be nothing like a regular wake?” Katie asked as they walked over to the bar where Klaus ordered a drink then took a seat in a corner booth. The whole atmosphere felt wrong for the mood Klaus was in. His bad mood put Katie in an odd mood as well.

Both of them were staring down at the table when Cami joined them. “Hey, earth to you.” Both of them looked up but said nothing. “Listen, I wanted to thank you.”

“Unless you come equipped with the means to fill this,” Klaus held up his glass that now only contained ice, “No additional platitudes are necessary.”

Cami looked at Katie who just gave her a tight lipped smile and shrugged. “Okay.” Cami drawled then looked back at Klaus. “I’m in a crap mood because my uncle just died and people are partying like it’s Mardi Gras. What’s your excuse?”

“I’ve been having dreams about my dead father.” Klaus admitted out loud for the first time. “No diagnosis necessary, love. I’ve already got this one covered. My fears of fatherhood, of scarring my child as my father scarred me are manifesting as nightmares.” He grabbed his drink only to remember that it was empty. “So horrifically cliché.”

“Okay, why don’t I go get you a refill?” Katie asked as she grabbed his glass and Cami stood from the curved booth to let Katie out.

She was standing at the bar when Marcel walked up beside her. “How are you?” he asked as he put his arms on the bar and sat down.

“Considering I saw a priest die, turn, try to kill me then get staked yesterday…I can confidently say I’ve been better.” She told him as she looked across her shoulder at him. “Not to mention Klaus is in a mood and this bartender is incredibly slow.”

“Let me help you out.” he flagged down the bartender and he ordered his drink then motioned for the bartender to take her order too.

“Thanks.” She told him with a small smile.

“You’re welcome.” He told her with a smile that showed off his perfect white teeth. “So how’s your old man? I haven’t heard from him since he left.”

“He is living in our old house and dating my best friend’s mother.” Katie answered as the bartender set Klaus’s drink and her coke in front of her.

“How weird is that for you?” he asked curiously.

“Only very.” She answered as she turned and saw Cami get up from their booth and head their way. “I should get this to Klaus before the ice melts.” She started to walk off.

“Wait.” Marcel said as he gently grabbed her elbow. “I want to thank you for whatever it was you said to Klaus to get him to let me come here and be a part of this…to be there for Cami.” He told her genuinely.

“Your thanks are unnecessary.” She told him honestly. “I had nothing to do with it. That was a mercy granted by Klaus himself with no influence from me. But just so you know, you have my condolences on the loss of both of your friends.” she told him, talking about Father K. and Thierry. Then turned and headed back over to Klaus.

A few minutes later Marcel grabbed a glass and a bottle and clinked them together making the band in the corner stop playing. “I know I haven’t been around these parts lately.” Marcel started. “It’s a testament to Father Kieran that we could come together and share a drink and a story or two. Kieran rolled into town on a rusty old cruiser after his daddy died 25 years ago. And, damn it, that guy could party.” Everyone in the room laughed and Cami smiled. “That was, of course, before he took his vows. But even then, he was committed to the quarter. He knew that this town needed him and we still do.” He held up his glass for a toast. “To Father K.” The rest of the room echoed him, but Katie watched Camille try and fail to not cry before she disappeared into the kitchen. Not long after the band started playing the cheery music again Francesca went into the kitchen with Cami.

Katie scooted over in the booth as Elijah joined them with a bottle in his hand. He was pouring them both a drink when Katie saw Cami storm out of the kitchen and Francesca came out and ordered a drink. “It seems rather uncivilized…” Klaus spoke up bringing Katie’s attention back to their table, “to laugh and dance around the body of a loved one.”

“Yes, far better to practice your process of grief, isn’t it, Klaus?” Elijah asked as he capped the bottle. “Denial, rage, and hoarding coffins in basements.” When Hayley walked over to them Elijah scooted closer to Katie and offered Hayley a seat so she took it. “I will warn you, Hayley, Niklaus is in a spectacularly foul mood today.”

“Sod off.” Klaus complained as he grabbed the bottle and refreshed his glass.

“What’s the deal with these moonlight rings?” Hayley asked, ignoring the brother’s banter. “Oliver’s trying to start a revolution every five seconds. People are scared, angry, and frankly I’m tired of stalling.”

Katie rolled her eyes at Hayley and placed her elbow on the table and rested her head in her hand. “It’s a day of peace, Hayley. Try and enjoy it. In the meantime the rings are in progress. I will live up to my word. We will find and punish whoever launched the attack on the bayou. But right now, I’m gonna finish this bottle and the next in the hopes of drowning the demon that has chosen today to haunt me.” he held the bottle in his hand up and looked up at the ceiling. “Cheers, Mikael. Impeccable Freudian timing.”

Elijah looked at Hayley as he sat up straighter. “Will you give us a moment?” Hayley nodded and left them and Elijah looked at Klaus. “Elaborate. Have you dreamt of our father?”

“Go ahead, have a good laugh.” Klaus told him grumpily. Katie felt a little out of place sitting between them, keeping her mouth shut.

“I can assure you there is not a piece of this that I find even remotely amusing, Niklaus. Especially considering I’ve been dreaming of him too.” Elijah told them, being completely serious.

“What?” Klaus asked.

“If you are also seeing him…” Elijah looked across the room at Genevieve who just joined the party. “Perhaps our elusive, unknown enemy is orchestrating a further attack.”

When Klaus looked at Genevieve she gave him a coy smile, clearly whatever mistakes Klaus had made with the two of them had been resolved or forgotten. “Well then, what better way to punctuate a day of peace than by killing someone?” Klaus gave her a smile and wiggled his fingers at her in a wave.

While they had been talking Katie had been thinking. “As much as I would love for you to kill her, I don’t think she’s the cause of this.”

“What do you mean?” Klaus asked with a frown at her.

“I think it’s your father’s doing.” She answered. “Remember what Bonnie said about the spirits on the other side being able to interact with our side?” she asked and a look of realization that this wasn’t a trick, but really his father messing with them, appeared on Klaus’s face.

“Would one of you be so kind as to fill me in?” Elijah asked.

“The purgatory that supernatural souls get trapped in when they die, the one that Bonnie is the anchor to, it’s been tampered with.” Katie told him. “Souls are being torn away into nothingness and the vale between our side and theirs is thinning. I’m fairly certain that the dreams you’ve been having are really your father reaching out from the other side and messing with your heads.” Katie explained.

“So you’re saying that our father, faced with permanent extinction, has decided to spend his remaining time tormenting us.” Elijah summarized. “How delightful.”

“On the plus side we’ll soon be rid of his abhorrent soul forever.” Klaus spoke up. “And what a good riddance that will be.”

“And I may or may not lose Bonnie, again.” Katie said putting two and two together for the first time since talking to Bonnie. “I need to make a call.” She pushed Elijah’s shoulder and he let her out of the booth. He followed her out as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed Bonnie’s number.

This time Bonnie picked up after just a few rings. “Hey, what up?”

“Are you going to die?” Katie asked, getting straight to the point.

“I don’t know what you’re-” Bonnie started.

“If the other side ceases to exist, will you disappear with it?” Katie asked and looked over her shoulder when she felt Elijah touch her back. Bonnie didn’t answer. “Answer me Bonnie.”

“Yes.” Bonnie finally answered.

Katie squeezed her eyes closed. “Please tell me you guys have found a way to stop it or to at least save you.”

“If I did I would be lying.” Bonnie answered, bringing tears to Katie’s eyes. “The other side is just a spell cast by a witch…it requires balance and when those travelers overpowered me they messed with the balance.”

“So toss another weight on the scale.” Katie told her pacing back and forth, Elijah standing by not knowing what to do.

“You know that’s not how it works.” Bonnie told her with a shaky voice. “When the other side goes, so will I. I’ve accepted it and I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need you to accept it too.” Bonnie’s voice cracked and tears started slipping down Katie’s cheeks.

“No, Bonnie, I’m not going to accept that. You can’t just…disappear.” Katie argued.

“I don’t have an option. So I need you to listen to me because I don’t know how much longer I have it could be a week or it could be a day.” Katie stopped pacing and wrapped her arm around herself turning her eyes to Klaus who walked out of the bar and over to her and Elijah where they stood under the awning of Rousseau’s. “I love you and I am so proud of the woman I saw you become while I was on the other side.”

“Stop it, Bonnie, don’t tell me goodbye. I can’t hear it.” Katie begged.

“Yes, you can.” Bonnie argued and Katie could tell by her voice that she was crying but trying to sound strong. “You want to know how I know you can hear it?” Bonnie asked and Katie just sniffled. “Because you are strong and you will only get stronger.” She heard Bonnie sniffle before she kept talking. “So I’m going to tell you that you’ve been the best friend a girl could ask for and I will forever be grateful for that. If we find a way to save me and the other side, I’ll call you and if I don’t call just…know I went peacefully, okay?” Katie didn’t say anything back. “Katie, say okay.”

Katie took in a deep breath then let it out as Klaus cupped her cheek in his hand. “Okay.”

“Goodbye, Katie.”

“Goodbye, Bon.” Katie replied then heard Bonnie hang up.

“Klaus?” Genevieve’s voice made Klaus turn to see her walking over cautiously. “Is everything okay?”

“Now is not a good time, Genevieve.” Klaus told her.

Elijah handed Katie a handkerchief and she gave him a small smile in thanks. “Actually, Genevieve, I’d like a minute of your time if you have it to give.”

Genevieve looked at Klaus who gave her a nod. “Of course.”

Klaus and Elijah walked over to one of the free tables and sat down while Katie and Genevieve sat at another. “What do you know about the other side, the purgatory that supernatural spirits get stuck in when they die?”

“I know that it’s separate from where the New Orleans ancestors reside and it was created by a vengeful witch. But that’s about it. Why do you ask?” Genevieve answered.

“Because the other side is disintegrating and a friend of mine, a witch, is the anchor. When the other side is gone, my friend will be gone with it.” Katie explained as another tear slipped down her cheek. “I know you don’t like me and you have no reason to help me, but I hear you’re really good at what you do and-”

“Katie,” Genevieve interrupted, “if the other side really is unraveling there’s nothing I can do to save your friend.” Katie’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.” Genevieve got up from the table and walked over to Klaus and Elijah, but Katie paid it no mind and rested her head on the table.

After Genevieve went back inside Klaus went to Katie and held his hand out for her so she took it and let him walk her home. They were about to walk through the doors into the courtyard when a chill ran down Katie’s spine as she looked around, but didn’t see anyone. “Are you alright?” Klaus asked, noticing that she had stopped.

“Yeah, just caught a chill.” She brushed it off.

TVDTVDTVD

The next evening Katie sat in the church between Elijah and Klaus listening to people talk about Father Kieran and his life. If Katie was being honest she was blocking it all out, not listening for fear of it turning into Bonnie’s funeral in her head.

After the service Kieran’s coffin was placed into the back of a horse drawn carriage and everyone gathered behind the carriage to walk behind him on his journey to the cemetery. Katie coughed for the millionth time that morning and Klaus placed his hand on her lower back as Elijah rubbed her shoulder and asked, “Are you alright, you look-”

“Like a beluga whale wrapped in black?” Katie asked.

“I was going to say you look lovely.” Elijah countered with a smirk.

“I do wish you’d stop comparing yourself to large sea creatures.” Klaus told her as Katie coughed again. “Elijah’s right, you look beautiful as always, but you sound horrible. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, it’s probably just a head cold.” She answered.

“Regardless, I’m taking you to a doctor after the funeral.” Klaus insisted.

“Fine if you…” she had to stop talking and cough again, “insist.” She finished the sentence between coughs and when she pulled her hand back the brothers saw blood on her palm. The next cough brought with it a stream of blood that filled her hand and coated her clothes.

Klaus caught her when she passed out and he and Elijah brought her to the compound. Genevieve, having seen Katie faint, followed them.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie awoke lying on a table in the courtyard, all the color the place once had was washed out and as she slowly sat up a movement to her right caught her eye. She turned to see Mikael walk into the courtyard. “Mikael?” Katie slid off of the table putting it between them. “This has to be a dream…like you’ve been doing to Elijah and Klaus.” She was thinking out loud, stalling whatever was to follow the evil look in Mikael’s eyes.

“On the contrary, my darling,” Mikael told her as he walked around the table and Katie started backing away, “this is very real.” Mikael whooshed at her and wrapped his arm around her neck from behind. “Welcome to my hell. Stuck in an eternity of watching over that hideous creature my children call brother.”

“Let me go.” Katie growled as she tried and failed to pull his arm off of her. “You call him a monster, but the only monster I see in this family is you. You’re the pathetic one who can’t get over the fact that your wife screwed a werewolf. Even in death you can’t see that your pride…your wrath…made your children everything that they are. Your son-” he tightened his arm around her neck cutting her off.

“He is not, my son!” he yelled and threw her away from him. She managed to stay on her feet. “He’s a scourge, a walking symbol of weakness.”

“Of whose weakness?” Katie countered. “His or your wife’s?” her retort pissed him off and he grabbed her neck in his hand, pinning her to the wall of the courtyard.

“Are you any better than her?” he asked with a dirty look down at her stomach. “Laying with a beast when a true Mikaelson pines for you.” she grabbed his arm and practically snarled at him, fighting him though she knew it was useless. “Though you may try…there is no saving that atrocity festering in your womb. Klaus will destroy it one way or another.”

“Unlike you, Klaus loves his child. He’d never hurt her.” Katie rasped.

“Better it dies now and you along with it.” Mikael told her as he reared back his head, the veins appearing under his eyes, preparing to bite her. Whimpers and growls left her as she fought with all her human strength to escape his grasp.

A guttural gasp sounded out through the courtyard as she woke up back in the real world and sat straight up on the table in the courtyard. “It's okay, Sweetheart, I’m here.” Klaus told her as he brushed her hair, dampened by his blood that he tried to give her to save her, out of her face. “I’ve got you, you’re safe.”

Katie closed her eyes for a moment, catching her breath, before she looked around, noticing Genevieve standing behind Klaus before she looked at him. “Is the baby okay, can you hear her heartbeat?” Katie asked with wide eyes.

Klaus nodded. “It’s strong, but you’re going to a doctor in the morning whether you like it or not.” He told her so she nodded.

“Until then I can examine her, if you’d like." Genevieve spoke up and Katie gave her a why-are-you-here look.

“She saved you, and our baby.” Klaus told her so Katie looked back at Genevieve and gave her a nod.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie lay on the bed of her room next to the nursery while Genevieve examined her. When she was done she helped Katie sit up. “Thank you for saving me today.” Katie told her as she stared down at her hands folded in her lap.

“I didn’t do it for you.” Genevieve told her matter-of-factly with her nose in the air. “I did it for Klaus.” Katie pursed her lips and pulled them to the side with a nod. “You’re in the clear, but I’d still take it easy and go to a doctor in the morning.” Katie gave her a salute as Genevieve left, shutting the door behind her.

Katie had showered and was sitting at the vanity in the room writing in a notebook when Elijah found her. The party in honor of Father K was still going on in the street and the jazz music floated up into the room. “I seriously don’t get the way people in this city grieve. When I die please don’t party it up like it's freaking new years eve.”

“You almost did.” She stood from the vanity to look at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. “The last time I felt that….frightened was almost a year ago when for the second time in my life I heard your heart cease to beat.” Katie didn’t know what to say so she didn't say anything as he cleared the distance between them and brushed her hair out of her face then cupped her cheek in his hand. “It reminded me how important you are to me.”

Katie’s eyes slipped closed for a second, pushing back tears, before she looked up at his narrowed, dark chocolate brown eyes. “Where are you going with this?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t let people in, but you…with your compassionate soul, made your way into my heart during a time in my life when I didn’t want to feel anything.” The overwhelming amount of love in his eyes pulled at her heartstrings. “I love you, Katie.” Her brows drew together and she swallowed hard as she picked up her foot and started tapping her bare toes into the hardwood, a sign he knew meant she was trying to keep her emotions in check. “Not as Hannah, not as a lover, but as my friend,” he placed his other hand on her other cheek, holding her face in his hands, “my family.” A tear slipped down each of her cheeks and he swiped them away with his thumbs. “It’s a love that, in a thousand years, I have never felt before and one…I hope is reciprocated.”

He thought when she grabbed his wrists and took his hands from her face then turned her back, that she was rejecting him, but as he watched her walk over to her vanity and pull a Tiffany blue box out of a drawer he knew that wasn’t the case. “You…” she started, as she turned and started walking back over to him, “can press my buttons almost as easily as Elena used to.” She popped the box open, took out the necklace then tossed the box on the bed. “But I never stopped loving you, Elijah, not even for a second.” She held the necklace out to him then stuck out her left wrist.

He took the necklace, but didn’t wrap it around her wrist. “Not even when I compelled you?” he asked curiously as he walked over to her vanity and sat down.

Curious as to what he was doing, she walked over to watch him. “That was a hard one to forgive, but no, not even when you compelled me.” she answered as she watched him manipulate the delicate chain links to turn the necklace into a bracelet by doubling the silver chain on each side of the silver, horizontal infinity sign with diamond accents and a rose gold heart in the center of it. When he was done he stood up and motioned for her wrist. She held it out, letting him fasten the necklace, turned bracelet, around it.

She looked up from her wrist and gave him a small smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck, rested her chin on them and closed her eyes as she felt his hands press into her shoulder blades. When they pulled away he gave her a small smile and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You should get some rest.” She just gave him a half smile and a nod and he left her to sleep.

TVDTVDTVD

After speaking to Marcel before his allotted time in the French Quarter was up, Klaus returned home to find Katie sitting at her desk in their quarters writing something on pretty stationery. When she noticed he was back, she capped the pen and put it and the letter she was writing away.

“I assumed you would be asleep after the day you’ve had.” He told her as she stood up and he closed the space between them.

“No, I had a song swirling around in my head and needed to get it down before it disappeared.” She told him as she slipped her hands up his chest that was still clad in his black tux.

Seeing the sparkle he grabbed her hand, looking at the bracelet. “Should I be worried?”

She moved her arms to rest on his shoulders as she looked into his eyes then smiled. “What do you think?”

“I think…” he slid his arms around her waist, “I see a symbol of my brother’s undying love for you on your wrist.”

“Yes, but the love it represents has finally changed to match my love for him.” she told him.

“And that type of love is…?” he prompted.

She rolled her eyes at him and dead panned. “Seriously? After everything you still have to ask?” he gave her a crooked smile and a blink that told her no, he didn’t, but he still liked to hear it. “Elijah and I are officially life long friends and I believe it this time.” She told him with a pointed look then changed the subject. “So where did you disappear to?”

“I needed to speak to Marcel before his time in the quarter was up.” he told her with a look around and when his eyes met hers she could tell there was more on his mind.

So she walked over to the bed and sat down, needing to get off her tired feet, then jerked her head for him to join her. So he did. “Talk to me.”

“My father may have been influencing my dreams, but the fear of scarring our child as my father scarred me is real.” He admitted quietly as he dropped his eyes to her hand that he took in his.

“You’re not your father.” She assured him with a shake of her head. “And you never will be.”

“Are you so sure?” he asked.

“Yes.” She answered without missing a beat. “Look at me, Klaus.” When he didn’t she scooted closer to him and cupped his cheeks in her hands making him look at her. “You will be an amazing father because unlike yours, you will love our daughter unconditionally. I know that, because in 1828 I was where you are now, terrified by the aspect of raising a child, of becoming my mother or even worse, my father…I was even scared that I would resent my child for permanently tying me to Ronan for the rest of my life…but none of my fears came to pass, because I promised myself I would be a thousand times better than my parents ever were. The only difference is you have something that I didn’t.”

“What’s that?” he asked with a slow blink at her.

“A supportive partner, who knows about your struggles, understands them and will be there for you…always and for however long my forever may be.” She answered. She was going to add that he had Elijah, but she was cut off when a gasp left his lips as he closed the space between them, catching her lips in his in a kiss that told her everything he didn’t know how to say. When it broke he rested his forehead on hers and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I’ve got you, Big Bad Wolf.” He gave her another kiss before he stood and went to their closet, grabbed them both a set of pajamas then shut the bedroom door.

After they changed they laid in bed, Klaus on his back while Katie used him as a human body pillow with her head resting on his shoulder. His hand played with her hair, relaxing her. “You should really be asleep right now.” He told her quietly.

“There’s something you should know.” Katie told him, getting a curious look from him. “I saw Mikael today…while I was…out.”

“And what did he say to you?” he asked stiffly.

“You mean before he tried to kill me and your daughter?” Katie asked rhetorically. “Just the usual untrue ramblings of an abusive, piece of shit, pathetic excuse of a father.” She told him recalling what she had called Mikael to his face the first time she ever laid eyes on the horrid man. “I would have told you as soon as I woke up, but it wasn’t really any of Elijah or Genevieve’s business.”

Klaus kissed the top of her head then turned off the lamp. “Get some sleep, both of you.”

“Pretty sure we don’t take orders from you.” Katie told him with a playfully sassy tone to which he just laughed.

A/N: Reviews are highly appreciated. :-)

#the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #tvd #tvd fanfiction #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson fic #klaus mikaelson x oc #klaus x oc #klaus mikaelson x oc fanfiction #klaus x oc fanfiction #elijah mikaelson x oc fanfiction #the originals #the originals fanfiction #to #to fanfiction

[pinknerdpanda]

Muddle Through Somehow

Word Count: 1,643 Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Angst, Fluff, 2020 (even though I don’t say it specifically...you’ll see) Beta’d by: @princessmisery666 - I’d be lost without you. xoxo

A/N: Written For @arrowsandmixtapes for my Merry Manda’s Christmas “Drabbles”. I was so excited when I saw your request, Kansas. This is my favorite Christmas song and it couldn’t be more fitting for this year. I specifically reference the OG version by Judy Garland with the original lyrics, but if ya’ll haven’t seen the video of Adam Lambert singing this song, you need to. It made my ugly cry. But like...in a good way? (video is here) Hope you enjoy this lovely!

Muddle Through Somehow

It wasn’t necessarily the soft sound of footsteps approaching that startled y/n. It was the fact that said footsteps came from a person who usually made no sound at all. If she could hear him walking, it was because he was letting her.

Somehow that made the whole situation worse, which made y/n cry. Again. 

Y/n buried her face in her hands, shielding herself from view and trying to muffle the sound of her tears. It didn’t work. Instead, the sound of feet grew closer more quickly. A heavy, metallic hand landed on her shoulder, tugging her shoulder until she was facing him.

“Y/n?” Bucky’s voice sounded strained and rough - tired even. “What’s the matter doll?”

On a good night, Bucky got very little uninterrupted sleep. Judging by the creases in his right cheek, the squint of his eyes and the mussed hair on one side, tonight had been somewhat of a “good night.” Until she woke him up and robbed him of what little rest he had been enjoying. Y/n sobbed harder.

Bucky’s arms, one warm flesh and the other cool metal, wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her against him. The gentle vibrations of his soothing words tickled her cheek where it lay on his chest. Bucky’s fingers skimmed the length of her back as she held onto him like a life raft.

Eventually the tears dried, leaving y/n red-nosed and sniffing against Bucky, whose firm, reassuring grip on her never wavered.

“I’m sorry, Buck. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Her voice was hoarse and sounded painful as she mumbled the words into the cotton of his now tear-stained t-shirt.

Bucky pulled back then; only enough to look into her face while his hands found her waist.

“Sweetheart, you have nothing to apologize for.”

His stormy blue eyes searched hers as though he was trying to etch the sincerity of his words into her corneas. Even in the dim light, y/n could see the furrow of his brow and the concerned pinch of his lips as he regarded her. 

Before she could argue or respond, Bucky was guiding her into the kitchen. Pulling out one of the stools at the counter, he motioned for her to sit while he set about making them each a cup of tea. The silence that stretched on was comfortable despite the occasional punctuating sniffle. 

Turning, Bucky produced two steaming mugs and handed y/n the one with Snoopy dressed as Santa on the front. His own mug featured Woodstock donning an exceptionally long stocking cap. He took a sip and leaned across the counter, elbows resting against the cool granite surface.

“Now, you wanna tell me what’s the matter?” One corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched upward as he readjusted his grip on the mug. 

Y/n tapped her nails against the side of her mug, eyes trained on the steaming cup, as if she were concentrating on the tinkling tune against the ceramic. She screwed her mouth up to one side, trying to find the words to explain. 

The soft clink of ceramic on granite stirred her from her thoughts as Bucky placed a finger under her chin and nudged her gaze up toward him.

“Come on sweetheart. You can always talk to me.” 

His voice held a nearly undetectable tone of uncertainty; worry even. 

“I know. It’s not that. It’s just…” she sighed again, leaning into his touch as his hand slid to cup her cheek. “I’m just...sad. I feel like everything is upside down.”

Bucky frowned, his hand dropping from her face and she instantly felt a chill at the loss of his touch. Rounding the small counter between them, Bucky turned the stool she sat on to face him and held both of her hands in his.

“Have I…” Bucky inhaled sharply. “Did I do something?”

Y/n sighed, silently berating herself for making him think he’d done anything wrong. She squeezed his hands.

“No, baby. Not at all. You’re wonderful.” Y/n sniffed and pressed her forehead against his. “It’s just this damn year. It seems like everything that could go wrong has. I mean Christmas is what...a week away? We have the tree decorated, the stockings hung...everything looks so normal from the outside. But it’s not. It’s like all the things that bring me so much joy every year are just making me so infinitely sad.”

Y/n’s voice cracked on the last syllable and Bucky wrapped his arms around her again.

“I think it’s just really finally hit me that I’m not getting to spend Christmas with my family. And I get it; it’s safest to stay away, but it’s breaking my heart.”

“I know, doll.” He pressed a sweet kiss into her hair. “I know and I’m so sorry.”

Y/n pulled back and offered him a watery smile. “If I didn’t have you, Buck, I don’t know what I would do.”

Bucky pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and tilted her head up slightly. He returned her smile for just a second before kissing her gently. “I feel the same way, sweetheart. I’m the luckiest man alive. C’mere.”

Grabbing her hand, Bucky pulled y/n out of the kitchen and into the living room. Stooping down, he plugged in the tree and all at once the room shimmered with the warm lights meticulously wrapped around every branch. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat at the sight; just like it did every time. There must be some form of sorcery that went into Christmas lights that made them constantly emanate peace and joy no matter how sour her mood; y/n was sure of it.

Bucky then moved to the record player and dropped the needle, the faint scratch echoing softly as he returned to stand before her. 

“Dance with me?” Bucky held out his hand, eyebrow arched and a warm smile stretching across his face.

There was no hesitation as y/n moved easily into his arms and tucked her face into the crook of his neck. She breathed deeply, inhaling his warm scent just as Judy Garland began singing.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas Let your heart be light Next year all our troubles will be out of sight

Tears burned at the back of y/n’s eyes and she clutched onto Bucky tightly as he led her in a slow circle.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas Make the yuletide gay Next year all our troubles will be miles away

“This is my favorite Christmas song,” y/n sniffed. Bucky hummed above her in agreement.

“Reminds me of being a kid,” Bucky chuckled.

Y/n looked up and found a dreamy, bittersweet look cross his face. 

“I thought this movie came out after the war?” 

There was a time when Y/n avoided asking questions about the war and Bucky’s life before HYDRA. She hated seeing the pain in his eyes at the memories such things brought back. But over their years of being together, they’d both realized that avoidance only made the inevitable remembering hurt more. It was important for Bucky to retain those memories, even when they were painful.

“Yeah I think it did, but I may or may not have had a little crush on Judy Garland back in my day.”

Y/n scoffed, her eyes twinkling in the soft glow of the Christmas lights. “Really?”

Bucky grinned. “Yes, really. The Wizard of Oz was one of the first movies I ever saw. Dorothy from Kansas? She was a real looker. Those big doe eyes,” he whistled lowly and chuckled. Sobering quickly though, he leaned in, lips against her ear, and whispered. “But trust me, she ain’t got nothin’ on you, doll.”

Y/n shivered as he kissed her temple and pulled her in close again, continuing to lead her in a slow, graceful sway.

Someday soon we all will be together If the fates allow Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow So have yourself a merry little Christmas, now

As the song changed, the pair remained wrapped in each other’s arms, not caring if their steps matched the beat of the music. Between Bucky’s embrace, the warm glow of the lights and the soothing crackle of the record player, y/n began to feel the wealth of sadness that had been building inside her ebb away. 

Eventually the music faded completely, only the occasional scratch and groan from the record filling the air. Everything felt still and lovely and for the first time in a while, y/n felt whole.

Maybe this year has been nothing but trash heaped upon trash and the holidays wouldn’t be what they once were. But she had Bucky and the hope that someday soon things would go back to the way they were. And right now, that was all she needed.

“Bucky?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you. For everything. You said before you were the luckiest man alive and I don’t know about that. But I know for a fact that I’m the luckiest woman in the world. If I’m gonna have to muddle through somehow, I’m glad I get to muddle through it with you.”

Bucky smiled as he leaned down to capture y/n’s lips in a slow, sweet kiss. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I love you too, Buck.”

Their lips met again for a brief moment before a yawn overtook Bucky, forcing them apart. He grimmaced, sheepishly.

“Come on, old man. Let’s get you back to bed.” Y/n grinned and pecked Bucky’s lips once more before dragging him back toward their bedroom. 

“Old man, huh?” Bucky smacked her on the ass, making y/n jump and giggle. “I’ll get you for that, my pretty. And your little dog, too.”

Like what you see? Want more? My SPN Masterlist is here, and MCU is here. Thanks for reading! :)

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[formeandmyfics]

MORE THAN YOU KNOW PART2

JUGENEA FAN FICTION

Disclaimer: Language, Sex & Medication mention 

I WOULD SUGGEST READING PART 1 FIRST

October 1951 “Oh my Gosh, look, they lit it up,” Kay Thompson’s voice excitingly howled, “Driver can you pull over?” As the town car slowed to a stop on the curve the passenger window rolled down and Judy’s large, dark eyes stared up at the brightly lit theater. The Palace theater hadn’t been lit up like that for years and now it was now lit up just for her. RKO PALACE 2-SHOWS DAILY -2 JUDY GARLAND & AN ALL STAR SHOW Judy was in a daze for a moment. When she was in ‘bad’ Vaudeville growing up, it was her family’s dream to play the Palace. It was every Vaudevillian’s dream to play that theater. When she was in For Me and My Gal, the movie hit close to home and she was delighted to play it. That was just a movie set, though. This…this was the real thing. As Kay and Gene all erupted in a cheer and laughter, she closed her eyes and thought ‘It’s happening, Papa.’ But in one quick moment, Gene grabbed her and happily planted a big, hard kiss to her cheek making her erupt in giggles. After relishing the moment, the foursome made their way to The Stork Club, a popular New York nightclub for celebrities and socialites. There they ran into many friends and celebrities who crowded around their booth. Judy, of course, the main attraction. When Gene saw that Judy had a moment to breath, as everyone busied themselves in conversation, he slipped into the booth next to her. “Hello, there,” she said sweetly. “Hello, there,” he repeated before leaning into her ear, “You know what I’m thinking?” “Considering you’ve been on the Bourbon tonight, I have a pretty good guess what you’re thinking,” she said slyly with a hint of seduction in her voice. Gene looked to make sure no one was looking before he lifted one the large menu’s to shield them for a moment. She giggled softly, “What are you doing?” “It’s no one’s business to see this,” he chuckled before kissing her. The kiss was gentle at first contact, but then his hand slid along her neck to the back of her head as he gave her a very, delicious, French kiss that left butterflies between her legs. When he broke contact with her lips, just barely, she placed her lips together as if tasting and she gently ‘mmm’. He smiled and tilted his head to top that when the menu was suddenly whipped away from his hand startling them both. Van Johnson wore a big silly grin as his eyebrows rose, “Whatchyou doin’.” Judy gasped, “Darling! Hahaha,” she got up to embrace him, “I didn’t know you were in New York!” Gene stood up to kiss Evie. When Evie and Judy hugged, Evie gasped taking Judy’s hand, “What is this?!” “You two finally aren’t going to be living in sin anymore, huh,” Van said laying a congratulatory hand on Gene’s back. “That’s right,” Gene grinned ear to ear. “It’s beautiful, honey,” Evie quipped. “Isn’t it,” Judy smiled happily. “When did you propose,” Evie asked Gene. “Back in August. We were vacationing at Lawford’s place in Palm Springs," Gene answered “You seem like the kind of guy to go all out to propose." “I was planning on a big to-do but the moment just came up and it was actually quite simple,” Gene stated. “It was simple but romantic,” Judy assured him, “It was dawn and we just woke up and we took a walk on the beach in our pajamas and then he just did it.” “Awww. Was it a surprise?” “Oh, yes.” “I’m so happy for the two of you,” Van sincerely said reaching to kiss Judy’s cheek, “May I take this opportunity to share a dance with the Bride-to-be?” “You may,” Judy said and let Van lead hear to the dancefloor. As someone came over to Evie, Gene grabbed his glass and downed the rest of his Bourbon, when he spotted Kay motioning for him at the other table. He went over and got his lighter out to light her cigarette, “What’s up?” “I want to talk to you for a second. I didn’t want to mention anything, but I’m a little concerned.” “Concerned about what,” he asked lowering his voice like hers was. “Earlier today, at rehearsal, I went into Judy’s rehearsal bag to grab some sheet music…” “Yeah,” he said casually. “And I saw something,” she said weary. When she didn’t continue, he gave her a questioning but persistent look, “What?” “I saw a few medication bottles.” “Her sleeping pills,” he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Maybe…maybe,” she nodded, “I thought of that.” “What did the bottles say,” he asked as he placed a cigarette between his lips. “I don’t know. I didn’t have the chance to look because Judy came in.” Kay licked her bottom lip before taking another drag of her cigarette, “Her moods have been erratic lately. And I know that’s ‘Judy’ but these are a little more intense.” “Yeah, I noticed, but it’s just stress with the show coming up.” Kay ignored his excuse, “Dottie and I have been helping with her gowns. She has lost over 10 pounds in a week, Gene.” This got his attention, as he had noticed her weight loss as well in a short amount of time. He never really thought about it, except she looked marvelous still in a healthy way. When their eyes met, Kay continued, “Why would she keep her sleeping pills in her rehearsal tote?” Gene looked down and fiddled with his lighter as he knew what she was getting at, “I don’t think so, baby. She promised me she wouldn’t." Kay saw the denial on his face, she understood why, but wanted to make sure he knew of the possibility, “I know. And maybe I’m wrong. I just wanted to let you know, just in case. Maybe you can check, hm?” “Yeah, maybe. Thanks,” he said giving her a thank you smile before he turned to look at Judy. She was slow dancing with Van, but in mid laugh. He smiled wider seeing how happy she looked. She caught eyes with him at that moment. When she saw him staring, Judy tilted he head and gave him a wink.

It was a little after one in the morning when Judy and Gene walked into her apartment at Beekman Place, a swanky area on the east side of Manhattan where Kay had an apartment. It was convenient, not only to be one floor away from her friend, but was only a 15 minute drive to the theater. When they shut the door, Gene was just a tad wobbly on his legs, not much, but it was clear he was feeling good from the liquor. Judy was sober as a judge and very amused as he helped her with her coat, but couldn’t get her arm out. “Honey, stop. Here, let me do it,” Judy giggled trying to free her arm. “Well, damn, if we can’t even get your coat off, we’re in a lot of trouble later,” he chuckled. Once freed from her coat, Gene hung it up, then placed his own coat and fedora on the rack, “I’m gonna go take a quick shower so I don’t have to take one when I get up.” “What time does your plane leave again?” “Eleven,” he said as he walked into the bedroom. Twenty minutes later, Judy was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine, still in her cocktail dress, when Gene appeared in the doorway of the bedroom clad only his pajama pants. He had expected her to be in bed waiting for him when he got out of the shower, but she wasn’t. As he stood there, he didn’t say anything, he just looked at her persistently. She looked up at him, “What?” “Come on.” “Come on, what?” “I’m not going to be back for almost two weeks. Get in here,” he said raising his voice exaggerating. “Whyyy,” she whined. He knew she was teasing him. “You take forever to get ready for bed, and I want my dessert, so I need you in there now.” He started to turn to go back in the bedroom when she spoke up like a little girl, “Make me.”

Gene turned around and gave her a ‘Oh, really’ look which made her bust up laughing and he walked up towards her. “You can’t do nuttin’. I’ll call the house detective.” Gene ignored her and grabbed her swiftly over his shoulder as she laughed as they disappeared into the bedroom.            The next morning, Gene was dressed nicely, all ready for the airport, as he made coffee in the kitchenette. It was a quarter past 9, and quiet, as Judy was still sound asleep in the next room. After pouring himself a cup of coffee, he walked over to the patio doors and opened it letting the crisp air invade his being. The trees all along the street below were bright orange, the color magnified by the morning sunshine beaming down. Oh, how he missed fall mornings in New York. You didn’t get changing colors of nature and fresh air like this in Los Angeles. With the sounds of birds and bustling traffic in the distance, Gene had a moment of solitude as he replayed the past few days. He accompanied Judy to New York on the train and they arrived the last day of September.  That was only three days ago, but they were very productive three days. As planned, Judy started rehearsals at the theater on October 1st. Chuck Walters directed and staged it, Hugh Martin was her pianist/accompanist and her conductor was the same young gentleman that conducted her Palladium shows. Roger couldn’t be there as he was at MGM working but she had worked with him in LA, on laying out the musical sequences and writing brand new songs just for that occasion. Kay, of course, was there to help her with vocals and Dottie tagged along as a personal assistant. She was surrounded by people she was familiar with, but most importantly, whom she could trust. The rehearsals, from what Gene saw, were great the first few days. She had a lot of energy and was happy, but she was also direct in her approach on how she wanted things to be and what made her feel comfortable. She got involved in everything – even down to the lighting. She was very poignant about what light mark would hit her during each song.

When she rehearsed ‘Over the Rainbow’, she was a little winded since it came right after the tramp number. She got a little annoyed with herself that she was out of breath, and she didn’t want to have a lull in the program, with the audience waiting while, ‘Old, fat Dorothy tries to breathe,’ as she put it. During her frustration, Gene had walked up to the orchestra pit below the stage where she stood He suggested, “Baby, just sit down and sing it.” “What?” “Just sit on the edge of the stage so you can catch your breath and then sing the Rainbow number. Hell, you probably won’t even need a microphone you sing so damn loud.” Judy actually loved the idea. A lot of her show was informal anyways. At the Palladium, she took off her shoes and joked with the audience and talked with them…to show them she was a real person. And she was doing the same thing at this show, even more so, staging the interaction purposefully. Her sitting down on the stage would bring it to a more intimate level and bring her closer to her audience, whom she adored. “…But do you think it’s too cheesy,” she asked. “They want cheese. They wouldn’t have watched any of your movies, if they didn’t want cheesy. Look at Summer Stock,” Walters had said. “That was pretty cheesy,” she added. “Right, but romantic. They want a performance, give them one, darlin.” When rehearsals were over, Gene assumed she’d want to get some rest, but she wanted to do the town, still full of energy. He was happy to join, to spend any time with his fiancé before he had to head back to LA to work on ‘Singing in the Rain’ which he was co-directing and starring. It was his baby, Judy knew that, so she was very understanding that he had to fly back and forth. God, he would miss her though. Ever since getting engaged, they found themselves inseparable when they were together. Gene smiled almost naughtily when he thought of last night. After knowing her for a decade, he could get so angry and so irritated with her and her almost bi-polar personality (she always used the excuse ‘I cannot help that I’m a Gemini’) but he knew how to handle her. One thing he never tired of, no matter the circumstance, was their intimacy. It seemed as the years went on, the sex got better. Making love or screwing, it was never dull, which is what he experienced with his ex-wife. That’s why he ended up with Judy in the first place. Sex with Judy never got dull because she was never dull. Last night, he didn’t know if it was the booze with him, or because they were to be separated again, but they had an unhinged session that they hadn’t had in quite some time. He also never tired of how she sounded during lovemaking especially when he pleasured her orally, which he did last night. He got his dessert. He was sure she was going to rip the bed sheets, as she arched, her hands clenching onto the white sheets for dear life. She begged him to stop, but didn’t push him away, as he overworked her through her orgasm. She gave him the same equal treatment before straddling him to start them off. Soon, she was begging him to fuck her, her sensations heightened. If they were in a hotel, the occupants in the entire hallway would’ve heard them. He even checked the bed afterwards, as he thought they broke it. They had a lot of laughs before they fell asleep. Gene chuckled to himself taking another sip of coffee as he walked back inside. He stopped in his tracks when his eyes landed on Judy’s rehearsal bag that was sitting on the edge of the couch. Suddenly, Kay’s words replayed in his head: “Why would she keep her sleeping pills in her rehearsal bag,” she had said to him worried, “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you can check, hm?” Now sober, things started to go through Gene’s head solemnly: her moods weren’t really erratic, but he had noticed she was more irritable than she had been for a while…she had accelerated energy day and night until she took a sleeping pill…she had sudden weight loss without changing her diet or exercising…she had heightened sensation during sex…he had seen these all before, when she was on her medication at Metro. Gene walked over to the couch and sat down next to the bag. He set his coffee cup down on the table before he hesitated. He never invaded Judy’s personal belongings. One thing they both agreed upon when moving in together was that they both respected each others personal space and private things. But, he had to know, just for himself, and for her own safety. He looked back at the bedroom door before he grabbed the bag. Opening it, he shuffled through items that were familiar to him: sheet music, makeup, her black, slipper flats, a silk Chinese scarf, a book she was currently reading and… There at the bottom of the bag, he saw two prescription bottles next to each other. Gene didn’t even have to look at the label to know that they weren’t her sleeping pills. These were orange bottles with ‘Office of Robert Clark, MD Malibu’ on the label. Her sleeping pills were in a white bottle prescribed by their trusted friend, Dr. Probirs, whose office was stationed in Beverly Hills. Gene’s eyes closed in disappointment before he looked at each of the bottles. It was as he assumed: they were an upper and downers. Gene’s first initial instinct was to down them in the toilet, but he knew that would just cause a fight. When she was still at Metro, they had fought about her medication during the later years, after her first cry for help when she cut her throat. Each time he brought up her ‘medication’, she boldly told him to ‘fuck off’ and that they were her business.  When she first started her last picture, Summer Stock, she was clean of medication, but she was terribly nervous and sometimes wobbly. She wanted to quit the project, to go back to resting like she had in Boston, but no one would hear of it. She went back on medication for the energy to continue the movie, which Gene did not like, but had no say. When Judy Garland wanted to do something, she just went ahead and did it. The medication was very closely watched and regulated. When she left the studio for good, one year ago, she had stopped the medication all together. When the two moved in together shortly after, she promised Gene that she would be done with them for good. She had even told him that on her own free accord. But he made her promise that if she needed medication again, or even if she thought about doing it for any reason, she would talk to him about it first and they would figure things out. Obviously, she had broken that promise. Gene found himself very angry, very hurt, but at the same time he did not want to jeopardize anything with her and this show. Screaming at her would change nothing. That wasn’t the way to handle Judy, he had learned early on in their relationship. She responded to calmness, flattery, wittiness, and no bullshit honesty when things were serious. If you yelled at Judy, she yelled back and either shut you out or become distant. No, confronting her right now was not the right thing to do. If she was back on medication, he knew she was vulnerable and possibly a ticking time bomb.

But he did wonder how long it had been since she had been back on them. Palladium? Just recently? It was a California doctor so obviously she had gotten them back home. Was it after they got engaged? All these questions rolled through his mind.

Gene placed the items carefully where he had found them and zipped up her rehearsal bag when he heard her sleepy voice call out for him from the bedroom.

Walking into the bedroom, Gene gave a slight smile before placing his hand on her head, sweeping some hair out of her face, "Did you sleep ok?"

"Mm hm," she moaned. When she saw him dressed in a suit, she became a little sad, "Are you leaving soon?"

"Yeah, baby," he said disappointingly, "I have to leave here in a few minutes."

Judy made a sad face and reached her arms out. He immediately got on the bed and half layed on top of her comfortably. For a moment, they just laid there together. Judy noticed the way he was looking at her, deep in thought with a worrisome look, and she furrowed her brow, "You ok?"

"Hm?"

"You look like something is bothering you."

"Other than having to leave you, again," he smiled and leaned in for a kiss. Gene then got serious real quick, "I really love you, Judy."

"I love you, too, darling."

Gene sat up and sat her up with him, taking her hands in his, "Everyone here loves you and cares about you...Chuck, Kay, Dottie, Hugh...you know that, don't you?"

"Of course. That's why I asked them to help me with this show."

"If you ever need anything, or you're feeling a little down, you can always go to them when I'm not here. You're never alone, I want you to know that. And if you ever need a break, it's ok to stop.”

Judy looked at him skeptically, “Yeah."

"And you know you can talk to me about anything. I've been there with you for years, I'm not going anywhere. If you ever need help with anything, anything at all, all you have to do is ask."

"Gene, why are you telling me this right now?"

He ignored her, "We trust each other, right?"

"Of course, but..."

"Is there anything you want to talk about before I leave?"

Judy’s confused face suddenly softened as looked dead into his eyes. Her lip quivered a bit, as if she was about to speak, the way it did when she was nervous, but then she just shrugged, “No. You'll be back the 15th, right," she asked.

Gene felt even more disappointment that she didn't confess but he responded, "Yep, I'll be back the day before your opening."

"And you'll be right there in the wings," she said as a confirmation.

"With bells on," he teased and he saw her relax, "What did I say at the lake house? I promise I'll be there no matter what. She show will be great and if you need any help, which I know you won't, I'll be right there beside you."

"Good. I want you in my side view at all times," she smiled

He smiled back and they kissed one more time, lingering a little longer.

When Gene left the apartment, with his fedora tilted on his head and suitcase in hand, he took the elevator down a floor to stop at Kay's. She opened the door at the second knock.

“Oh, good morning, darling,” she said with a cheery smile.

“Morning.”

“Are you on your way to the airport now?”

“Ya,” Gene looked down, pausing, and bit his bottom lip in a bit of distress before looking back up at her, “You were right, Kay.” He saw her curious expression quickly turn to comprehension.

“They weren’t sleeping pills, were they,” she carefully said. He shook his head, ‘no’.

“So, what happened,” she said crossing her arms as she leaned against the door frame.

“Nothing. I didn’t have the heart to ask her about them. All I know is, they’re from some MD in Malibu and they’re the same things she took at the studio.”

“Judy,” Kay sighed just as disappointed but then she got a little stern, “So, you’re just going to sweep it under the rug?”

“Of course not. But I’m also not going to start World War III right before her opening of the show. You know how she is. She’ll either play it off like it was just a bag of M&M’s I found or throw a tantrum and tell me to fuck off. Either way, she’ll put up a wall with me.”

Kay nodded knowing all too well, “That’s true. If that happened, anything could trigger her and she’d probably cancel the whole damn show.”

“Exactly. It’s too risky. Her career needs this. She needs this, baby. I’m not going to chance it with a confrontation. Believe me, when we fight, it never changes anything until we come to middle ground and we can’t do that with me 3000 miles away.”

Kay bit he nail in thought, “Ya, she’ll do whatever the hell she wants, anyways.”

“When I’m gone, can you just..can you..” Gene practically begged the blonde with his eyes.

She new exactly what he meant and smiled, “I was going to anyways. Everything will be fine. And don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything.”

“Thank you, doll. If you need anything, just call. If I’m not home, then call the studio.”

“You got it. Have a safe flight,” she said and they reached in for a kiss goodbye, “See ya the 15th.”

That afternoon, a cab pulled up in front of Gene and Judy’s home just as Lauren walked to the end of her driveway to fetch the mail. When she saw Gene get out, she happily went over to meet him. “Well hello, there,” she said as the cab drove away.

“Hello, there,” Gene replied letting her kiss him on the cheek.

“Just getting back from New York?”

“Yep.”

“We just got our tickets in the mail for the opening of the show.”

“Oh, that’s swell.”

“How’s the theater coming along?”

“It’s beautiful. They’ve re-done it all inside. New paint, new curtains, new chandeliers, the works.”

“How is she doing?”

“She’s great. Rehearsals, just from what I’ve seen the past few days, are going beautifully. And she sounds fantastic, Lauren. Her voice is stronger than it was in Europe.”

“Probably because she’s happier here. Look what she’s doing. She’s reopening the Palace and bringing back Vaudeville. That was an amazing idea you had there, Gene, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“I hate the idea of you being all alone in that big house right now. If you don’t have any plans, why don’t you come with me to Marina Del Rey. We’re going to do a little sailing.”

“Ah, Captain Bogie, at it again, huh?”

“Yeah, so how about it?”

“Thanks, but I’ll have to pass right now. I’m a little tired from the flight.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, yeah. Being around people non stop in New York the past couple days wore me out. I want to relax a bit before I return back to work tomorrow.”

“Alright. You’re welcome to come over for dinner, too, anytime.”

“That, I’ll definitely take you up on.”

“See that you do,” she said walking away but just as Gene started up his driveway she turned around, “Say, what’s Judy number, where’s she staying so I can ring her up sometime?”

“She’s in the same building with Kay. Beekman Place. 9-7768.”

“Thanks, darling.”

When Gene shut the front door behind him, a very quiet, and partially dimmed, house greeted him. He could immediately smell the fresh aroma of lemons, which meant their housekeeper Joannie had probably been there that morning. Right now, there was no Judy, no Liza, no Nanny Mary, no housekeeper. It felt calm but odd, as it always did when Judy wasn’t around for a while. Whenever Judy was around, there was at least a few people buzzing nearby.

As Gene head up the stairs, he made a mental note to make sure to call Kerry. He knew Betsy was going to drop her off later but didn’t remember what time.

The white and peach toned Master Bedroom was clean and bright when he walked in, but a little stuffy as it was cool enough in Los Angeles to not need the air conditioning on. He immediately opened the veranda doors to let some air in, then turned on the radio. One habit he took from Judy after all these years, was need to have a radio, record player or television on at all times. He used to love complete silence, but now it made him a little antsy after a while.

Gene turned on a current baseball game and started unpacking his suitcase. When he rummaged through his toilette bag, he pulled out a piece of paper and immediately smiled. He didn’t even have to open it to know it was from her. Something she always did, was leave little notes for him. Even when they were together at home, she’d leave a note laying around. He knew she could express her emotions better when they were in writing or through her voice in song. He opened the piece of paper that was monogrammed ‘RKO Palace Theater’ on top, and in her familiar slanted cursive it read:

Thank you for all of your support, darling, and your great ideas. Imagine, the little, fat girl with pigtails playing the Palace. You and Me, we’re great, baby. Call me the second you get home.            - Love J

Gene sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the beside phone. He checked his watch to figure out what time it was in New York before dialing the theater. After getting through the receptionist, and then speaking briefly with the stage manager afterwards, he was patched through to Judy’s dressing room.

“Ms. Minnelli’s dressing room,” he heard Dottie say, whom always used Judy’s legal last name for security reasons.

“Hi, sweetheart, it’s Gene.”

“Oh hi. Hold on, Judy is right outside the door.”

There was silence for a moment before Judy picked up, her voice a little out of breath, “Hi, darling.”

“Hi, baby. Have I interrupted work?”

“No, they just called for a break, so you got me at the perfect time.”

“Did you run to the phone, I’m flattered,” he chuckled,teasing, as he still heard her try to catch her breath.

“I just did the Medley, in full voice.”

“Long song.”

“You got it. How was your flight?”

“Okay. I got your note, honey, thank you.”

“Oh, you found it, huh?”

“I’m trying to figure out when you put it in there considering I was awake when you fell asleep last night and woke up before you did this morning.”

“Magic.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Everything okay at home?”

“Yep, all quiet. Housekeeper was here earlier. I ran into Betty. She invited me to go out on the boat, but I think I’m just going to stay at home and relax. I have an early call at the studio tomorrow morning. She mentioned she was going to call you. She and Bogie got their tickets for opening night, too.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Honey, don’t forget, Kerry is being dropped off at 4.”

“4...” he double checked his watch and it said 3:45, “Shit. I forgot what time she was coming. How do you remember that and I don’t?”

“It’s in my repertoire to remember your business,” she teased.

“Anything else I forgot?”

Judy giggled, “She’s going to work with you and then Vincente is going to get her around noon for her play date with Liza.”

“Oh, that’s right. Well, I better go then. Everything okay on your end?”

“Yes, sir. Call me tomorrow. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She made a kissy sound before hanging up. Gene hurried with emptying his suitcase and made sure Kerry’s room, which connected to Liza’s, was set. He had just enough time to change into casual wear when Kerry arrived.

After getting her settled in, he went into the Master Bathroom to fix the medicine cabinet door that had screws come loose on top, leaving it slanted. During one of their little ‘tiffs’, Gene had slammed it shut, a little too hard. So, it had been that way for quite some time. Fixing things, or building things, around the house relaxed him.

The radio still played a ballgame, as Kerry traipsed into the bedroom. Passing the bathroom door, she looked in to see her Dad screwing the cabinet with a nail between his lips, obviously occupied. So, she walked over to Judy’s vanity where her perfume, makeup and a costume jewelry box lay on top. Kerry picked up one of the Max Factor red lipsticks, curiously.

Gene was continuing with the cabinet, when Kerry stood in the doorway, and asked, “Daddy, why doesn’t Mommy wear red lipstick?”

He turned and saw Judy’s velvet red lipstick on his daughters lips, done neatly, but looking ridiculous on a 9-year-old, he had to laugh, “Go take that off.”

“Doesn’t it make me look pretty? I think it makes Judy pretty.”

“It makes you both pretty, but lipstick is not for nine-year-old girls.”

“I’m ten in 13 days,” she said with her chin up.

“Ten is still too young to wear lipstick, at least that color. Wipe it off now, please,” he said handing her a kleenex.”

“Why doesn’t Mommy wear red lipstick?”

“Your mother used to, when we first met. But then she liked the pinks better. Pink is pretty, too.”

“Do you like red better?”

Gene couldn’t help but smile at her unknowing innuendo, “I do like red better…but I won’t like it on you until you’re at least eighteen-years-old.”

Kerry rolled her eyes and disappeared back into the bedroom. When Gene was finished, he passed Judy’s walk-in closet where Kerry had her feet in a pair of black high heels.

“Why does Judy have such high shoes?”

“Because she’s short and it gives her height. Honey, what are you doing. I don’t think Judy would appreciate you touching all of her stuff.”

“Yah, huh! She told me I could play with whatever I wanted but to just be careful and not bring any drink or food in the bedroom. That was all.”

Gene looked at her like she was fibbing and Kerry’s eyes opened wide, “You don’t believe me! Call her right now, she’ll tell you. I’ll call her…” she went to stomp past Gene in the tall heels but he caught her and playfully tickled her lifting her up, the shoes falling off her feet.

“Oh, no, you don’t. She’s rehearsing right now. We’re not to bother her. If you’re that serious about it, I do believe you. But, I think she meant only when she’s home you can rummage around our bedroom.”

They went back in the bedroom and Kerry sat on the bed as Gene put his tools away. On the nightstand, she looked at a framed picture of Judy and her daddy. It was a studio-taken, promotional, black and white picture of the two of them from For Me and My Gal. Kerry didn’t know it was from that, as she hadn’t seen it, but the two were much younger in the photograph.

“Daddy?”

“Yah?”

“Are you really going to marry Judy?”

Gene paused a moment, before looking at her seriously, and he sat down on the edge of the bed worried, “I am. When we took you and Liza out to dinner to tell you about it, you were happy. Don’t you want me to marry her?”

“Oh, yes. It’s just, Liza has been calling you Papa Gene before you even told us you were getting married. And I was wondering if it’d be okay if I call her Mama Jude.”

Gene let out a funny breathe as if he were relieved, “Of course you can.”

“She’ll be okay with it?”

“Oh, honey, she’ll be so happy when she hears you call her that, believe me.”

“Good.”

He paused a moment, “Kerry, has your Mama said anything to you about me and Judy?”

“Like what?”

“Anything that’s maybe not too nice? You know, your mother and I aren’t married anymore. I just want to make sure we’re all friends.”

“No, she hasn’t said anything bad. When I told her about you marrying Judy she said something like, it was gonna happen eventually. But then her boyfriend asked me if Judy was gonna have a baby.”

Gene looked up at her, a little shocked. At least Kerry was too young to understand the meaning behind that, “Yeah, well, speaking of, how do you like Michael? Is he nice to you?”

“Oh, yes. He helps me with homework and he makes Mom laugh a lot.”

“That’s great,” Gene said sincerely.

“Is Judy gonna have a baby?”

“No, she’s not. At least not yet.”

“Soon? I’d love a baby brother or sister, Daddy.”

“Maybe the stork will bring us a baby after we’re married.”

“Mommy said I can go see Judy’s show in New York.”

“Yes, you’re all set to go with me the first weekend of November when I go back to New York.”

“I thought you were going back on my birthday?”

“Yes, Judy’s opening show is on your birthday, so I’ll be there. But I’m only staying a few days because I have to be back her for work. But then the next time I go back three weeks later, you’ll be with me. I’m sorry I won’t be able to be here for your birthday, honey.”

“That’s okay. Judy needs you.”

Gene kneaded his eyebrows, “Where did you hear that?”

Kerry shrugged not the bit interested, “I heard Mommy say it once.”

“She’s right, kiddo. But listen, I’m going to go to FAO Schwartz and bring you back something great and then we’ll go celebrate with ice cream sundae’s at the Brown Derby.” Kerry smiled and rocked her body back and forth excited, “And speaking of food, lets go make some dinner.”

He took her hand and they walked out.

The next evening, Judy was looking through a bridal magazine in a back bedroom of Betty Davis’ penthouse as she hummed along to Josephine Baker’s ‘La Conga Blicoti’ that the infamous singer was singing live with the piano in the next room.

“Ow! Dammit Kay,” Judy said trying to turn to look down at her friend.

Kay was on her knees behind her with a knitting needle between her teeth as she was sewing up a seam that had ripped in Judy’s flared cocktail dress.

“Well, if you would quit wiggling your ass, Judy, then I wouldn’t stick ya.”

“What do you think of this,” Judy said showing her a ‘2nd wedding’ bridal dress.

“I think you have too much boob for that,” she bluntly stated.

“Oh, stop.”

“I still cannot believe Bette has a bridal magazine laying around. She married Gary last year. There you are, my dear, all set.” Kay stood up and then saw a silk, champagne-colored, halter-style dress that was tight on the bodice but flared at the skirt and came up to the knee. “Oh, that one is beautiful.”

“I like the color.”

“It would go great with your skin tone and dark hair. Who’s the designer?”

“Chanel.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely ring up Gabby if you’re interested in looking at some designs. Have you two talked about when you’ll get married?”

“No. But I’d like to do it shortly after we close here. I don’t want to wait too long. I’d be happy just going to the Justice of the Peace tonight if he were here.”

“I bet you would,” Kay giggled.

“I don’t want a big wedding. Just something intimate with our closest family and friends, maybe even in our backyard. I know Gene would love that.”

“It would be pretty with the rose bushes you have out back and the koy pond. But then a big party afterwards for everyone?”

“Oh, of course. We’ll buy out Ciro’s,” Judy teased and they both laughed as they walked out back to the party.

Gene stood in the doorway of the Master Bedroom, leaning against the door frame biting on his thumb nail with apprehension. He never felt such anxiety to enter his own bedroom before. After coming home from the studio that evening, only one thing was on his mind: Judy’s medication. He had momentarily forgot about it after spending the previous afternoon with Kerry and the last time he spoke to Judy she sounded well and happy. But being back at the studio, where almost everyone took them, it was hard to forget about it.

Of course, he had taken them himself, but he quit them a few years ago. And even then, he only took them if he had a night shoot or a ‘back-to-back’ where you filmed into the night and had an early call the next morning. He wondered if Judy hadn’t gone off of the at all. Did she lie to him? Did she have them secretly hidden like she used to do at the studio and at her home with Vincente.

So, Gene made a decision: he would look for them in every possible place. He and Judy always respected each others privacy and space. He never went ransacking through her persona belongings. He had his own closet and never once stepped foot in hers unless she asked him to grab her something. She had a dresser in there as well, which she said was off limits. He didn’t ask questions, he respected that. It was called trust and now here he was.

Gene sighed and pushed himself off the door and walked in the room. He didn’t know how long he took, but he looked at every place he could think of, knowing how clever she was. He even looked in place that Vince had once told him she had hid medication but, fortunately he found notta. When Gene went to look at the last possible place, her dresser in the closet, he stopped himself. If he hadn’t found anything yet, he probably wouldn’t in there. I mean, she had told him it was off limits, so if he were to look anyplace it would there. She was too smart to put them there. Gene shook his head and walked away. No, he wouldn’t betray that trust, at least not without speaking to her first.

He felt relieved, but still trepidacious, and needed to distract himself. He picked up the phone and dialed next door.

“Hey, Betty, your dinner invite still good? Oh, great. I’ll be over in a minute, thanks..”

Judy leaned into a match that Lennie Hayton held out for her to light her cigarette. Lena Horne came by and gently touched Judy’s arm to get her attention.

“Look who’s here,” she nodded towards the entrance.

Judy looked and there the Butler was taking Artie Shaw’s hat and coat. Still on the landing, he pleasantly looked around the room, but then caught eyes with Judy who looked at him almost bashfully. He beamed into a big, provocative smile when a waiter interrupted him with a glass of champagne.

She looked away and cleared her throat as she took another drag.

“He’s coming over,” Lena said before she ushered her husband away with a mischievous eye.

She, like many others, had known that he was the first man Judy wanted to marry. She had admired him, respected not only his musical talent, but his kindness towards her. He made her feel like a star. He was also the first man she had fooled around with. And even though he had led her on, he never let it go all the way physically, but continued to pursue he emotionally until he eloped with her friend Lana Turner out of the blue. It was Judy’s first heartbreak.

When Judy looked back, Artie was strolling her way, smiling and biting his bottom lip.

“Hi,” he simply said.

“Hi,” she said back friendly, but when he came in to give her a kiss she giggled and turned away so it landed on her cheek, “Artie.”

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“I have tickets for your show at the Palace.”

“Oh, that’s great. Tickets,” she emphasized, “Does that mean there’s a new lady friend that I’ll be meeting that night?”

It was Artie’s turn to blush, “Uh, no, nope, just my mother. She really liked you, when you were around a lot back in the day.”

“Well, I liked her, too. But we both know I wasn’t the reason why I stopped ‘coming around’,” Judy said with a hint of an icy undertone.

Artie heard it but he chose to ignore it, “So, are you here alone?”

“With Kay Thompson.”

“No date tonight,” he said surprised.

“Gene is in Los Angeles. He had to get back to work.”

“Man, if I were him, I wouldn’t have left. Things are too exciting for you right now, aren’t they?”

“They are, but but he’ll be back for the opening.”

“Oh, well, that’s good. Say, if you ever want to catch up, let me take you out to lunch or dinner sometime. We can even do something casual like Lindys.”

“Oh, that’s very sweet, but I am busy, and I don’t think my fiance would appreciate me going out with another man alone,” she said, adding a giggle to keep things light.

“Fiance,” he said amused and she showed him her left hand which he took to look at it. “Well, well, well, look at that. Congratulations, to you both.”

“Thank you.”

“Judy,” Bette said across the room waving.

“Will you excuse me?”

She went to walk but he stopped her, “If you ever change your mind, just let me know. Lindys, lunch, that’s all,” he repeated.

Judy nodded in acknowledgement before walking away.

The next afternoon, at Metro, Frank was walking towards the main office building when Gene stormed out of the front doors. He had an angry look on his face and didn’t even see Frank when he passed him.

“Gene? Hey, Gene!”

Gene stopped and turned around, completely preoccupied, “Oh, hey, bud.”

“Whoa, what’s going on?”

“I...” Gene sighed, “I’m sorry, pal, I can’t chat right now. I gotta take care of something.”

“Yeah, you g’head. Call me if you wanna get a drink tonight. Considering how pissed you look, I’m guessing you may need it.”

Gene nodded and went on his way.

Meanwhile, at the theater, Judy was on stage, in her rehearsal clothes. She went over to where her tea was sitting on the piano and took a sip.

“Give me a key note, darling,” she said to Hugh. “Here, honey,” Hugh said as he sat at the piano and played her the intro key for ‘Pretty Girl’.

“Ok.”

“Shall we?”

“Let’s do it,” she said coughing a few times to clear her throat.

Kay sat in one of the front row seats swinging her leg back and forth and tapped her pen against her note paper as Judy sang her hit from ‘Little Nelly Kelly’.

“Ms. Thompson,” the stage manager said with a low voice as to not disturb Judy.

“Yes?”

“Phone call for you. It’s Mr. Kelly.”

“Oh, tell Gene that Judy’s in the middle of rehearsal. I’ll have her call him during break.”

“No, ma’am. He said it’s urgent.”

The stage manager reached down at the orchestra pit where there was a phone sitting on the conductor stand, and with the long cord, he pulled it to the woman’s lap. She looked at him oddly as he walked away to get back to his business.

Kay picked up the phone, and covered her other ear with her finger, “Hey, Gene, what’s wrong? Huh, speak up, Judy’s in the middle of a song,” Kay listened, “Wait, what?”

On stage, singing, Judy glanced at her friend a few times, curious who the call was that couldn’t wait. When she saw Kay’s body language change and her expression turn to shock, she got a little worried, but she continued the song. Kay seemed to try to be rationalizing with whomever was on the other end, as if she were trying to calm the other person.

“Gene, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. Don’t beat yourself up. Yes, I will,” Kay listened then got more stern raising her voice which Judy heard, “I said don’t worry about it, God dammit.” When Kay hung up the phone, she placed her fist over her mouth thinking, before she looked up at Judy with a peculiar expression.

Judy’s words faltered, her voice trailing off, as she looked down at Kay and she couldn’t continue.

“Stop, stop. Hugh, darling, I’m sorry. Give me a second,” Judy went to the edge of the stage, the orchestra pit separating the two ladies, and she squat down, “What’s happened?”

“Go, finish your song, then we’ll take break.”

Judy laughed incredibly as she answered, “I am not going to finish anything until you tell me who was on the phone.”

“It was Gene. He got some bad news.”

“Oh, my Goodness. Is Kerry ok or…”

“No, no, nothing like that. Now, don’t get yourself worked up. I want you to remember, there are other shows…”

“What do you mean other shows? What the hell does that mean?”

“Well, it seems Gene got pulled into Arthur’s office just now. The studio is retracting their approval of his time-off request for the 15th through the 18th.”

Behind Judy, her dancer boys all assembled onto the stage, lead by Chuck, but Judy remained where she was, tilting her head as if she hadn’t understood Kay correctly, “What do you mean?”

“Honey, he said he tried everything. He’s so upset right now, but they won’t back down. They said they already gave him time off for when he was just here, and they’re still approving his time off for when he comes here the first weekend in November, but not this upcoming one. He’s the director, and they need him there,” Judy remained emotionless and Kay gave it to her straight, “He won’t be here opening night.”

Judy blinked when suddenly Chuck’s voice called her from behind her, “Hey, Judy, here’s the boys. Gotta rehearse the intro.”

Without a word, Judy got up and walked over to them. Kay cautiously sat down, keeping an eye on Judy the entire time. As Chuck staged their mark, Judy tried to pay attention, she was wobbly on her feet as he placed her where to stand, behind the boys, her mind elsewhere.

“Okay, the mark is set. That’s do the song,” Chuck happily stated.

The music started, the boys did their intro, then when it was time for Judy to appear from behind the boys, to surprise the audience, Judy simply walked into the wings, but quite hastily.

“Here we go,” Kay said.

Chuck held his arms out, completely taken back by her exit, and he looked at Kay. She put her hand up, as if to tell him it was okay, before standing up and walking to meet Judy backstage.

Kay could already hear Judy’s voice on the phone as she walked closer to the dressing room. When she got inside, she shut the door behind her.

“What do you mean Gene’s not at the studio anymore? He was just in a meeting…oh, you did? No, that’s okay. Can you please patch me to the studio operator?” As Judy waited, she looked over at Kay with a determined look. “Hello, yes, can you please ring Arthur Freed’s office? This is Judy Garland. Thank you.”

“Arthur Freed’s office, may I help you,” the secretary asked, “Yes, Miss Garland. Just a moment please.”

She was about to get up when Arthur walked past her and she placed Judy’s call on hold, “Oh, Arthur, I have Judy Garland on the line. She said it’s urgent.”

Arthur sighed. As much as he loved Judy, he had a feeling why she was calling and he did not have the time or energy right now, “Tell her I’m leaving for the day and if she needs to leave a message, I will get back with her. Oh and tell her that I miss her.”

“No problem,” she said as she watched him walk away before she got back on the phone.

Judy snickered when she listened to the secretary, “I bet he does. Can you please ring Ida Koverman’s office for me? Thank you.” Judy waited and looked at Kay, “Arthur said for me to leave a message and that he misses me. I’m not leaving a fucking message.” Kay couldn’t help but smile as she sat down opposite Judy.

“Judy, dear, how are you?!”

“Hi, Ida. How are you,” Judy said genuinely but a little rushed.

“A little birdie told me all about your success oversees and now with your new show opening in New York. I’m so thrilled for you.”

“Thank you. It is quite wonderful. I’m sorry to be short, but I really need to speak to Mr. Mayer.”

“Oh, Judy, honey, you know how he…”

“Ida, it’s of great importance. I must speak to him, it’s urgent.”

“Alright, let me see where he is. Hold on,” she put Judy on hold and went straight to the Big Boss’ double doors knocking only once before entering.

“Louis, Judy is on the phone. She said it’s urgent. Shall I patch her through?”

“My Judy,” he asked a happily surprised.

“Yah.”

“Of course!” He waited for the call to come through and immediately picked it up, taking off his glasses, “Judy, dear, what do I owe this pleasure?” He listened, “Judy slow down. Yeah. Yes, I’m aware. No, he didn’t but I did talk to Arthur. I know and I’m sorry dear but business is business. Judy, calm down, you know if could I would but…” he sighed and hung his head, “…yes, I know. Again, I’m sorry, but my hands are tied. You know, we did just give him three days out of the schedule and he still has his days in November…” L.B. then got stern, “Judy, I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do.”

Judy slammed the phone down and let out a frustrated yell.

“I take it, it didn’t go well,” Kay said lighting a cigarette.

“He said Gene didn’t even come to him to try to talk to him, can you believe that?”

“If L.B. doesn’t cave for you, he sure isn’t going to cave for Gene.”

Judy took Kay’s cigarette and took a drag. She then licked her lips and handed the cigarette back to her standing up.

“I’m going back to the apartment,” she said grabbing her coat and bag.

“Judy, rehearsal might be good for you, to keep your mind off things.”

“Going out is going to keep my mind off things. I’ll see you later,” she said and left without another word.

It was just after dinner time when Judy walked back into her apartment, in a pretty day dress. She had called up Artie after she left the theater and accepted his invitation. As promised, he took her to Lindy’s for a late lunch and it was all pretty casual. She had a glass of wine to calm her nerves and actually enjoyed catching up with him. They flirted, which was inevitable but harmless, and he made no advances. It was all very friendly and refreshing. But when she was alone, walking back to the apartment, her heart grew heavy again. He promised her he’d be there…no matter what. Now, he wouldn’t be. She held in her tears as long as she could.

Judy covered her face in her white, gloved hands and finally let it out, crying as her back slid down the door. She stayed like that for a few minutes until the phone rang. Judy scrambled up to answer it, hoping it was Gene.

“Hello,” Judy answered sniffing.

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Oh, hi.”

“I’m just calling to see how you’re doing. Baby, are you crying?”

“Oh, yeah, you know me,” Judy said trying to play it off.

“A good cry will make you feel better. Have you spoken to Gene?”

“No. I just got back to the apartment.”

“Are you going to call him?”

“He should call me.”

“I agree, but listen, his balls are probably jumping back inside at the thought of talking to you right now. When you two do speak, just be rational.”

“Darling, you do realize you just used the word ‘rational’ in the same sentence pertaining to Judy Garland and Gene Kelly.”

“I’m aware,” Kay laughed, “Listen, take a bubble bath, have some tea and relax. I’ll see you tomorrow. If you need anything, call me. I’m only a floor away.”

“Thank you. See you later.”

Judy hung up and sighed. She looked around the quiet, empty apartment and she felt tears springing up again. Judy immediately went over to her rehearsal bag and took out a bottle of her medication. After taking one, she retreated to the bedroom.

Frank’s car pulled up in the Kelly’s driveway and Gene got out, unsteady.

“Day drinkin’, let’s do it again, next time,” Frank joked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gene said annoyed and shut the door.

Frank didn’t back out until he saw Gene get inside the front door.

Inside, on the foyer table,. was the mail that he didn’t open that morning and a little blurry eyed, he went through it. Just ‘cause he was drunk didn’t’ mean his bills and business could be placed on hold. A certain piece of mail caught his attention. It was addressed to their address but no name for who it was for, but he did recognize the return label. It was that damn MD Office in Malibu.

Gene tore it open and it was a bill for Judy’s medication. He immediately went to tear it up in anger, but doing that also wouldn’t erase the bill nor her business with them, and he let out a frustrated yell. Judy stood by the large windows in her bedroom gazing at the city lights as she smoked a cigarette, clad in a white bathrobe, her hair still damp from her bath.

After glancing at the time, she exhaled the smoke frustrated and murmured, “Piece of shit.”

Judy walked over to the side of the bed and stomped her cigarette out in the ashtray before grabbing the phone.

Gene was downstairs in his ‘man cave’ practicing his aim at pool, in complete silence, a beer on the edge of the table, when the phone rang. He ignored it, all 7 rings as if he didn’t even hear them, and then there was silence again. Only the ticking of the clock and a dog barking outside was heard. A few seconds later, it started ringing again.

He walked over to the phone hastily and picked it up, his voice irritated, “Fuck Off.” He hung up and walked back to the table taking a swig of beer.

It was a little more than a few seconds, but the phone started ringing once more. This time, Gene threw his pool stick down and answered the phone again, his voice raised, “I said…fuck…off.”

“Gene,” Judy said insulted.

“Oh,” he said, softening, but not sobering up, “It’s you.”

“That’s the way you’re addressing me now? ‘It’s you?’”

She heard him let out a big sigh, as he ran his hand through his hair, leaning his back against the wall. But, he didn’t talk.

She did.

Judy spoke very articulately, “You-son-of-a-bitchhh.”

There was no need for explanation. He knew why she was calling.

“Alight, let’s have it. Give it to me, baby,” he nearly hissed, almost ignorantly.

It was the same tone he used in the bar when egging on the drunken men that talked shit. There was no heartfelt apology from him. He was looking for a fight so she’d give him one.

“You’re a god damn piece of shit…a disloyal mother fucker…a God damn backstabber...”

When Gene heard silence he spoke up, “Are ya done?”

“I haven’t even started, baby.”

For a long moment, they were both silent, as if they were battling their own emotions when Gene finally spoke up with a sincere voice, “Judy…”

“No,” she said her voice cracking as she tried to hold in the tears, “You don’t get to do that.”

“Baby, I have been in misery the whole fucking day over this. Please don’t make me feel worse than I already do.”

“You promised,” she said with a whimper, “Remember? You promised me you’d be there no matter what. You know what it means to me.”

“God dammit, I know. I KNOW,” he shouted, “You think I want this? I fought with Arthur on it, but he wouldn’t back down. I tried all I could.”

“No you didn’t,” she snapped.

“The hell I didn’t.”

“You didn’t! I called up L.B. myself this afternoon and he said you never spoke to him.”

“Because I knew it was a dead end. If Arthur said no, there was no way in hell that L.B. would say yes. Am I right?”

Judy paused but spoke very cattily, “Right.”

“He may have bowed down to you back in the day, but he’s not gonna cave for me, even if my girlfriend is Judy Garland.”

“You’re what,” she said angry with disbelief.

Gene immediately realized what he said, “My fiance. I’m sorry, baby doll. I’m just upset.”

“You’re drunk,” Judy said disgusted.

“Oh, congratulations,” he said clapping loud enough so she could hear it.

“You’re pathetic.”

“No, you’re pathetic,” he corrected.

“I’m pathetic,” she screeched.

“You’re pathetic for always being so god damn selfish! Don’t you realize that this isn’t just any film? I’m the fucking director. I’m helping put it together. You know this project is like my baby. I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way we planned, but shit happens. I’ll still be there for the show, just not on opening night.”

“I NEED YOU ON OPENING NIGHT,” she cried, yelling so prodigiously, the walls almost rattled, “After I found out, I walked out of rehearsal and came home and balled my eyes out!” Again, there was a moment of silence and she went on, her voice more calm, “You broke a promise, Gene, yet you call me pathetic…”

Gene’s voice came out deep and slow, “You really have the audacity right now, to berate me for breaking a promise, after you broke one as well?”

Oh, he was pissed, Judy had only heard that voice a few times and it gave her chills…bad ones. But she was still confused.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Dr. Clark in Malibu.”

Judy took a surprised intake of breath followed by a sorry cry, “Gene.”

“How could you,” he said his voice now cracking, “How could you go behind my back and do that? After all that we been through together in that department, you didn’t tell me.”

He heard Judy start crying and it broke his heart that he started weeping, “You told me you wouldn’t do those again. You promised me, Judy,” Judy’s cry hearing him cry was so heartbreaking, but he continued, “You promised me when we moved in you would talk to me about it, that we’d work though it together.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” she managed to get out.

“How long has this been going on,” he said, his crying stopped now turned back to anger, “Did you even stop or was that a lie, too?”

“Of course I stopped.”

“When did it start again? Palladium?”

“No.”

When she didn’t continue, he got impatient, “You owe me an explanation.”

Judy let out a sound, her crying now subsided, “I don’t owe you a god damn thing but a headache.”

“Oh, dealing with you, believe me I’ve learned to live with it.”

“Oh, go to hell!”

“But, honey, I love you so it’s worth it,” he tried to smooth over, “Please, tell me.”

“How did you even find out?”

“What the hell does it matter how I found out? Doesn’t change the situation.”

He almost blurt out that he searched through her rehearsal bag but he didn’t want to get him nor Kay in more hot water. He had a bill from the office, that was as much reality check as he needed.

“But if you must know, a bill came in the mail. It wasn’t addressed to either one of us so I opened it and hello, what’s this…a god damn bill for medication my future wife promised me she’d NEVER FUCKING TAKE AGAIN!”

Judy nearly jumped out of her skin at his rage and her voice came out with a vulnerable undertone answering his question, “Just before we came to New York.”

“But why, Judy,” he asked trying to be understanding, “Is it because of work?”

“Of course it’s because of work.”

“But I don’t understand. You didn’t need any of that on the Europe tour.”

“They were different over there.”

“What do you mean?”

“People over there didn’t care how I looked or if I fell down or just stood there like a god damn mime. They loved me for me. But over here…Gene they’re so mean. I’ve read the papers. After we got back to the States, I didn’t get any offers. They called me a has-been, a fade-out. Europe called the tour ‘A Smash’ but here they called it, ‘A Good Try, But No Good.’ They’ve eased up on that now, but they’re still calling me matronly, and homey, and pretty but fat.”

“Who gives a fuck what they say,” he said disgusted.

“I DO,” she yelled but then talked more calmly, “I do. I’m working extra hard and extra long hours rehearsing. I’m going to be doing 2 shows a day. I need the energy, then the sedative to relax, plus I need to slim down. I want this show to be bloody perfect and I want to show them I’m better than I’ve ever been.”

“And it will be.”

“Well, probably not anymore, thanks to you.”

“Like I fucking planned this, Judy. Jesus Christ, when are you going to get it though your thick skull…I tried, they didn’t budge, but it is still my production.”

“May be, but as far as I see it, you’re choosing that forsaken studio over me.”

“I’m not just a guy you live with that’s there for moral support at your beck and call, I’m Gene Kelly. I also have my own career, my own life.”

“And I’m Judy Garland. I’ve got my own life, too. I got along just fine before you came into the picture,” she retorted.

“Ya, then you don’t need me.”

“You know what, you’re absolutely right.”

“I know I’m right,” he agreed trying to explain to her she didn’t need him to be there that opening night.

“If you’re so keen to your own career, your own life, and thinking I don’t need you…well maybe you don’t need me around anymore at all.”

Gene didn’t know why he did it, but he found himself hanging up the phone. He would later realize it was the stupidest thing he could have done.

The sound of garbage trucks outside woke Gene with a start. He groaned when he sat up, holding his head, and realized he was on the living room couch upstairs. Fuck, he didn’t even remember how he got there.

Gene looked at his watch and sighed, relieved. It was still early. He still had enough time to get to work. Thank God it was a later call. Gene bent forwards, leaning his elbow on his knees, and ran his hands over his face. He was still for a moment before his head shot up as last nights conversation rolled through his brain.

“Did she break up…” Gene got up and walked over to the phone in almost panic, and mumbled to himself, “I think she broke up with me last night.” As the phone rang, Gene figured in his head that it was 10:30 in New York.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Dottie, hi, it’s Gene.”

“Oh, hey sweetie. How are you doing,” she said cheerfully.

“I’m a little worse for wear.” “You sound tired. Are you ok?”

“I had a little too much to drink last night. Say, is Judy there?”

“No, we’re meeting some people for brunch. I just came back in the apartment to grab something for her, but I’ll tell her you called.”

“Okay. Uh, Dottie…”

“Yeah?”

“Did Judy say anything to you this morning?”

“About what?”

“About me…about us.”

He heard her curious tone, “Nooo, but, should she have?”

“I’m not sure,” is all he could manage.

Gene felt a little relieved hearing that Judy didn’t rant to her friend about her problems. That’s all she ever did with Dottie in the studio trailer especially when she was not happy in her marriage or relationship. Maybe it would all blow over. He knew she was as much medicated last night as he was drunk.

“Kay did tell me that you can’t make it to the opening. I’m so sorry to hear that, but I want you to know that Judy’s doesn’t seem too upset by it so don’t beat yourself up.”

Gene kneaded his eyebrows confused. That sure wasn’t Judy’s tone last night, “What did she say to you about it?”

“Not much really. It was just in passing, but she said that you would be a later show. That was it.”

“Well, she’s right. I will be. Thank you, Dottie. I’ll call later, love.”

“Bye-Bye.”

Gene walked upstairs to take a shower feeling like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. Later that afternoon, Gene was out on his back patio playing cards with Lauren as they ate some finger sandwiches that the housekeeper had prepared, all the while he told her everything that had happened.

“Jesus,” Lauren said.

“I know.”

“But it sounds like she just needed a good nights sleep. Give her a little more time. If she hasn’t spoken about it to her friend Dottie, then, like you said, everything is probably ok. When you guys speak, do it when you’re both sober and calm.”

“Yeah,” he said and rubbed his temple.

“That hangover still goin’ huh?”

“Yeah. If they would’ve called me this morning and told me I only needed to be at the studio for 3 hours, I would have just called in sick.”

“I told you, one of my famous Bloody Marys will knock that hangover right out of ya.”

“No,” Gene winced, “No alcohol.”

“Mr. Kelly.”

They turned as the housekeeper walked out with a courier package, “This just came for you.”

“Thank you,” he said and took the package.

“What are you expecting from a courier?”

“Nothing,” he said inquisitively as he looked at the mailing address, “It’s from New York, it’s from Judy.”

“She loves writing notes. Watch it be a telegram that she had couriered apologizing and giving her undying devotion to you.”

As he worked on opening the package, Gene smiled up a Lauren, whom looked like a tough cookie on the outside but inside, she was one big ol’ marshmallow. He got the large, padded envelope open and looked inside. When he didn’t reach in or say anything for a moment, Lauren became suspicious.

“Gene? What is it?”

He waited another moment before he pulled out Judy’s engagement ring. Showing Lauren, he spoke softly, “I think she just called off our god damn wedding.”

“Are you crazy,” Kay nearly shouted as she trailed behind Judy as they walked into the theater from the auditorium doors, “You can’t call off an engagement from one god damn phone call. You don’t even talk rationally with him about what happened, instead you overnight him your fucking ring? Are ya nuts?”

Judy ignored her friend and kept a brave, professional face as the approached the stage, but Kay went on, “You two have been through so much the past 10 years. You’ll get though this, too, no matter how hard. Do you realize what he’s probably feeling right now?”

“The same thing I’m feeling…betrayed. He doesn’t care about me and this show.”

“Will you listen to yourself? How can you say that?”

“Because it’s true.”

Kay knew Judy, on medication, was more irrational and vulnerable and sometimes didn’t know what she was saying.

“When he confronted you about your medication, did he tell you how he found out?”

“A bill that came in the mail.”

Kay nodded, “He knew when he was here.”

“What?”

“I told him to look in your rehearsal bag because I thought I saw them and I wanted to make sure.”

Before Judy could respond with anger, Kay went on, “He didn’t confront you here because he didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize this show. So don’t tell me he doesn’t care because he does.”

Judy’s face dropped a little and Kay took her hands, “Did you tell Gene what you told me earlier, about how you’re going to stop the meds the moment the run is over?”

“He didn’t ask so it’s none of his concern.”

“Look, from here on out, it’s all between you two, but I needed you to know that. I also need you to know, no matter how mad you are at me for telling him that, I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to be right here.”

Judy nodded but took her hands out from Kays, “If Gene won’t be here on opening night, I need to focus on the show, not him. You have no idea how fucking scared I am doing this. It is a little about being selfish because he’s the one person that always gets me through. He got me through my most horrible times like on Pirate and Summer Stock and the Palladium. He promised me ‘no matter what’. That’s a serious promise.”

“Yes, it is,” Kay had to agree.

Without another word, Judy turned to get back to rehearsal.

“Honey, it’s a madhouse, you should see it. Everyone is here. It’s like VJ day out there with celebrities tossed in,” Kay said excited as she entered Judy’s dressing room.

Judy was sitting at her vanity in her silk robe, her hair and make up done, when an elegantly-dressed Kay burst in and she couldn’t help but laugh from the excitement and nerves.

“And they’re all going to see me fall on my ass like at the Palladium!”

“I wish I could have seen that.”

“You would have if you weren’t doing your own show that very night.”

“They all love you, just like the fans in Europe, maybe more so,” Kay said and pointed to the opposite wall where tons and tons of telegrams, were pinned up that Judy had received, not to mention all the vases of roses along the floor.

Judy smiled genuinely and nodded, “I’m going to really kick some butt tonight aren’t I?”

“You’re gonna knock em’ dead. And I’m going to be there in the wings. I’m going to see where Dottie is at. I’ll be back.”

When Kay shut the door, Judy turned back around facing the mirror, her smile fading.

“I’ll be right there in the wings. I promise. Will bells on.”

That’s what Gene had said to her. Judy looked down and fiddled with her makeup brush. They hadn’t spoken one word since that fight. That was almost 2 weeks ago. He didn’t call, but she also didn’t call. She had spoken to Roger though who told her that Gene was working overtime at the studio and seemed in good spirits. Judy had worked her ass off for this show, and she made herself be in good spirits as well. It had been time for them to focus on themselves and their projects than just each other.

Judy looked up at the only telegram that she had posted to her mirror, above Liza’s picture. It was from Gene that came yesterday, the day that he was supposed to return back to New York. It said only 6 words but ones she needed to hear the most: I love you. You’ll be great.

Now with a rational mind, and his absence, Judy realized it really wasn’t Gene’s fault, but she wasn’t lying, or being dramatic, when she knew she needed him there. But, the show must go on.

As Judy got up to get dressed, suddenly she heard an echo of commotion that seemed to come from down the hall. She was smoothing out her dress that was still on the hanger when the door opened.

“Kay, I heard everyone go bonkers. Who just came in? Let me guess, Sophie Tucker?” When there was silence, Judy turned around and she immediately took a step back, losing her balance, falling back into a chair completely in shock.

“Guess again,” Gene said smiling, looking handsome in his tux.

Judy let out a whimper as she jumped up and right into Gene’s arms. He held her tight, picking her up so her legs around his waist, and they both shook as she cried against his shoulder her fingers digging into him. Through her tears, she managed to see Kay standing on the other side smiling before she shut the door for them to have privacy.

Gene was nervous as hell when he got to the theater, not knowing for sure of how her reaction would be, as she had give him back her ring. So, to be holding her like this, as she cried, felt like an immediate rush of relief and happiness. They hadn’t even talked yet, but he felt like in that moment he got his girl back. A sob escaped his lips that he tried so desperately to hold in. Hearing this, Judy stood back on her feet and took his face in her hands, giving him a kiss as she continued to cry.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door startling the both a bit.

“Yes,” Judy answered.

“10 minutes to stage, Miss Garland,” they heard an assistant say.

“Thank you.”

Judy took Gene’s hands in hers and they both seemed to let out a breath.

“You look good,” Gene said sincerely.

“Yeah,” she giggled, “With runny mascara.”

“You look good without mascara,” he said taking a seat so she could freshen up her face.

“Gene,” she simply said, but it had a lot of meaning behind it.

“Later.”

“Ok,” she responded with a little smile.

After redoing some makeup, Gene helped her with her dress, and then she took his hand and they walked to the wings of the stage.

They both stood there as Judy’s ‘boy friends’ danced and sang their introduction.

“I’ll be right here,” he whispered in her ear, his arms wrapped around her waist. We intro-duce, the lollapalooza…JUDY!

Gene gave Judy a slap on the bum before she walked out on stage. The audience went mad. She couldn’t even go right into her first song ‘Call the Press’ because the cheers and claps wouldn’t stop. It delighted her so, she couldn’t stop giggling. Gene laughed when Judy had to calm them down by putting her finger up to her lips to shush.

Halfway through the program, as Judy and Chuck did the ‘Couple of Swells’ number, Kay walked up behind Gene, as he was still in the wings, and she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.

“Was she this happy and funny in rehearsals,” he asked very amused by her banter with the audience. Of course some of it was staged, but a lot she had just chatted and joked and was wickedly funny. She was being herself. It was his Judy.

“She put on a happy face and was funny in rehearsals, yes, but she is an actress. This…this is real. And I think we both know why she’s so happy.”

When the number finished, with roaring applause, the lights in the entire house dimmed, leaving Judy in a bright spotlight. Out of breath, still in her Tramp costume, she sat down on the edge of the stage and started ‘Over the Rainbow’.

Singing that song that night, something magical happened. Gene had heard her sing it many, many times, but this time it was quite haunting, with an eerie hush from the audience. She sang it deeper from her soul than he ever heard her. She was trembling, but strong. It was if her entire life; every happy and sad emotion she ever felt, and every good and bad time she ever experienced, came through that song just then. And the audience knew it. Judy had started tearing up during the middle of it and it touched everyone’s hearts.

He had peeked at the audience. Only the first two rows near the orchestra were visible from the spotlight, but they were all staring up at her like they were children. Some were crying and others had their hand over their mouths in awe. Gene was as captivated as they were. Even Hugh Martin at piano couldn’t take his eyes off her.

In the middle of the song, Judy had cut a long note short, when she had glanced over at Gene and she let out some high-pitched sobs, fully crying now. He urged her on and she continued, still weeping, but she managed to get through the rest of the song with full force. When the song ended, she got up and took her bows, for the short intermission, before heading straight into Gene’s arms.

After the triumph of Judy’s opening night, and after a lot of interviews and friends congratulating her in her dressing room backstage, Gene escorted her to the Stork Club where they met up with all of their friends including the Bogarts and Sinatra. The two fell right back into their routine like nothing had changed as they posed together for photographs and greeted people together, as a couple. They even shared a few dances, but there was still a heaviness. Both knew the sooner they left, the sooner they could talk.

It was 1 a.m. when the two got back to her apartment, quite an early time as spending time in a New York nightclub would usually go on until 4 in the morning.

Gene followed Judy into the bedroom, who immediately noticed his small suitcase on the bed.

“You came here first?”

“I needed some place to change into my tux,” he said with a playful voice, but it was the truth. When all she did was just give him an understanding nod, he went on carefully, “Can I stay?”

“I would be offended if you didn’t,” she said with her own playful tone, but also serious in the offer.

As he slipped off his shoes and took his suit off, he watched as she took off her heels and unclasped the stockings from her garters under her party dress.

After Gene dressed down to his undershirt, but still wearing his tux pants, he noticed her struggling with her back zipper.

“Need some help,” he asked walked over to her.

She nodded and he slowly zipped it down. As he did, she looked at him through the mirror, “When did you get to New York?”

“Just hours before you went on. I caught the last flight. There was only one seat left. I was very lucky, honey.”

“You would have charted your own plane if you were that adamant.”

“You’re right,” he said with a laugh, “I probably would have.”

As Judy hung up her dress, Gene admired her in her strapless, one-piece lace girdle. She didn’t wear them often, except for special occasions like tonight, but when she did, he thought she looked like a pin-up girl. He had told her that before, but all she did was laugh. She hated wearing them. He felt his libido stir, but he knew they were on the verge of talking.

“How are you feeling after tonight,” he asked sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Relieved and happy…but a little confused at how you were able to get here,” she said giving him a glance over her shoulder as she folded up her shawl.

“Well, I, ah, after you sent me the ring back…”

Judy didn’t dare look at him that time.

“...and after we went that long without speaking, I realized that anything to do with work wasn’t worth losing you, no matter who was being the most stubborn.”

Judy gasped and turned around to look at him, very worried, “What did you do?”

Gene knocked on Mr. Mayer’s office door and waited for him to respond before he stepped in.

“Kelly…shut the door and come here,” L.B. said when he saw him just standing there.

Gene did what he was told and walked over to the desk, but he didn’t sit down as he kept up a strong front.

“Sit down,” L.B. said impatient.

Gene complied but shook his head ‘no’ at the cigarette that L.B. offered.

“Now, I’ve just spoken to Arthur. What is this I hear that you’re demanding to be let go from ‘Singing in the Rain’? You’ve been wanting to direct this picture for a while. Have you gone insane?”

“With all due respect, Mr. Mayer, it’s not worth it.”

“Oh, nonsense, what do you mean. Not worth what?”

“If you talked to Mr. Freed then you know what I’m talking about.”

L.B. sighed, “Judy is a very complex girl but she’ll understand.”

“Not this time. And anything to do with work, even though it means a lot to me, is not worth losing the woman I love. I want to marry her and have a family with her someday. I can’t risk it over one film.”

“If she doesn’t understand why you can’t be there on one particular night, perhaps she isn’t the woman you should marry,” L.B. said annoyed.

Gene ignored his comment, “If you won’t let me have more time off, then I need to be let go from this picture so I can take it upon myself to be there.”

“I won’t hear of it,” L.B. shouted.

“Then I’m afraid I have to ask to be released from my contract and I will pay any damages in doing so,” Gene said. He hadn’t even thought of that before, but he somehow found himself saying it.

L.B. immediately stood up,“Nonsense! You’ve become one of our best box office draws! You’re a hell of a director and choreographer!”

Gene just looked down. When L.B. saw the look on Gene’s face, he slowly sat back down.

Leaning back, he clasped his hands on his tummy, “There’s only been one person at this entire studio, in my entire career to be honest, that I gave special privileges to. And not just in a business sense, but in the mental capacity as well.”

He turned to look at his large book shelf. Gene turned his head to look and there on a shelf was picture of L.B. with Judy as Dorothy.

“And even though she isn’t part of our studio anymore, you are,” he emphasized. “And she will always be family. I didn’t realize how serious this all was. I don’t want to lose you over your request to having an extra few days off.”

Gene sat up in his chair a little bit as he realized what was coming.

“I’ll grant you tomorrow off through the weekend, but you better be back here on Monday, sharp.”

“Oh, Mr. Mayer, thank you,” he said standing up to shake his hand in both of his.

“I’ll get Stanley to take over for a few days,” L.B. said as if it weren’t a big deal with what just happened.

“Thank you, again. You have no idea what this means to me…to us.”

“Yeah,” he said, “Now get outta here before I change my mind,” L.B. said with a half smile.

Judy sat next to Gene, placing her hands on his leg almost in horror, “Do you realize what you almost did?”

“Kind of an idiot move, huh?”

“Yes,” she laughed, “But you’re my idiot,” she hugged him happily, “Darling, you’re so stupid, but I love you. I cannot believe you did that for me.”

“And I’d do it again.”

“Don’t you dare. You’re too good to stop now.”

“There’s other studios, Judy, but there’s only one you.”

Judy made a sad face before pushing away from him, “You’re gonna make me cry again. Hell, I even cried on stage!”

“They loved it. You should try to cry every time you sing that song.” “I just might. It’s not hard to do, so it wouldn’t be an act.”

“You said something earlier.”

“What?”

“That you love me.” Judy nodded and looked down but he lifted her chin, “Why don’t you look at me and say that.”

A little embarrassed, Judy stood up, “Look, just because I sent you my ring out of anger and heartbreak doesn’t mean I actually stopped loving you.”

“That was also a chancy move to make yourself there, dear.”

“And you didn’t call.”

“You didn’t either.”

They both broke out in guilty smiles.

“I…didn’t really mean it, darling,” Judy said sitting back down next to him in desperation.

“Well, then good thing I brought this,” he said and reached into his pocket.

Judy let out a laugh seeing her engagement ring. He took her hand about to slip it back on but she pulled away.

“Wait. I have something I need to tell you.”

Gene’s eyes widened, “You’re pregnant?”

“Oh gosh, no, I mean not right now, I don’t think,” she said and they both chuckled. “No, I wanted to tell you, I am truly sorry for not telling you about the medication. But I wasn’t lying when I said I was scared.” By Gene’s look, she could tell he was still very hurt by it and she went on, “I haven’t been on anything for days now. I did a lot of thinking about us, about me in particular, and I knew I had to prove to myself that I could do the show without you and without the medication. Lucky for me, I did it only without the medication.”

Gene put his had on her jaw looking into her eyes, “They’re gone?”

“Somewhere in the Hudson river by now I presume.”

He chuckled and gave her a kiss before looking back down at her hand, “I love you, Frances Gumm,” he said slipping the ring back on her finger.

“I love you, Eugene Kelly,” she said grabbing him into a passionate kiss.

Kay slapped the morning newspaper with her hand, “The Times is calling the show a smash hit. Just like I said, they’re saying the streets of Manhattan were the craziest and happiest they’ve been since VJ Day.”

Roger held his own newspaper, “The Daily is saying October 16th should be called ‘Judy Garland Day’ in New York.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for her,” Kay said, “She was so trepidatious.”

“We all knew it would be a hit. At least the press has changed their tone about her since she returned from Europe.”

“No kidding.”

“I wonder if she’s seen the papers yet.”

“She’s probably still sleeping.”

“Do you think Gene’s up there with her now?”

“Boy, I hope so. They left together and I know they needed to talk.”

“Hopefully they worked everything out.”

Judy whimpered as fantastic sensations once again spread throughout her body. She was still so sleepy to be able to give it her all like she had the night before. Boy, the sex was always amazing, but last night was extra wonderful as they both tried to show their apologizes. She was sure it had become a competition. But now he was telling her to just enjoy it. Oh, she was. The feeling of him sliding in and out of her slowly as his pubic bone rubbed back and forth against her, had her nipples peaked and her toes curled.

Gene grabbed her hand in his, holding it above her head, groaning as his finger tip played with her ring. She felt so fucking good, still slick from their endless night of lovemaking, and she was getting tighter and tighter with each stroke.

He maneuvered himself, lifting from her neck, so he could be face-to-face, and she gasped placing her hand on his lower back encouraging him.

“Right there,” she whispered against his lips.

He smiled and continued with the same pace, but pushed a little harder with each thrust teasing her. Each thrust had her moaning louder and louder until she lost her voice and caught herself against him. Gene continued through her orgasm, reveling in the feeling of her tight muscles milking him, letting out his own moans until he exploded into her as he release one long, desperate groan.

As Gene lay on his back, Judy half laid on top of him and reached up to kiss his cheek, “You know how you came up with the idea of my show after watching our first picture again?”

“Yeah,” he said still out of breath.

“Well, I came up with one of my own.”

“What?”

“Remember how Harry and Jo promised to get married after they played the palace?”

Gene smiled wide, “I thought that was the plan.”

“Well, I already played my first show. And I don’t have a matinee today.” Gene’s head lifted looking at her surprised and she went on with an excited voice, “Let’s get married.”

“Today?”

“Today.”

Gene rest his head back down and laughed, not from the silly idea, but excitement. He knew with all the friends they had in town, they could get a marriage license quickly. But he was sure she had wanted a wedding.

“We can have Kay and Roger come and we can invite the Bogarts and Frank as they’re still here. We’ll just give a big, huge party back in LA once the show is done. What do you say?”

Gene smiled and ran his thumb up and down her bare arm, “I say that you’ll be doing your 2nd show at the Palace a married woman.”

Judy squealed happily and jumped on top of him.

*If you haven’t listened to ‘Judy at the Palace’ album, I would suggest doing so to give you an idea of that night :) You can find the complete concert here under Feb 24, 1952 which was her closing 

night. http://www.thejudyroom.com/media/judy-sings-in-concert/

#judy garland #jugenea #fanfiction #gene kelly #palace theater #jg fans

[sparrowshrike]

Monster Prom Wingman AU Christmas Special

Past

Sparrow woke up at 4 am to find his stalking on his bed, at this time Sparrow was still going by Simon and was living with his human (Adoptive) Maternal grandfather. Simon emptied his stalking finding a puzzle, which entertained him until 5 am, luckily at 5:14 he heard Vicky and Yellow(Oz), over the walkie talkie. This was also back when both Vicky and Brain were alive and all of them were in middle school.  

“Anyone else awake, and more importantly bored?” Vicky asked

“This is Simon,” he whispered “and yeah I’m bored”

“Same Here” Amira picked up

“Good to hear form you two, I didn’t know you two celebrated Christmas.”

“I don’t, I’m just bored” Amira shrugged

“*Yawn* Morning everyone.” 

“Oh, Sorry for waking you Brian.” Simon said

“It’s Okay.”

“Go Back to bed Allison!” Brian’s parent’s yelled

“They still call you that?” Vicky asked

“Yeah...” Brian sighed

“Hey why don’t we all go to the meeting place?”

“Yeah!” Vicky and Yellow said in Unison

“Okay.” Brian said

“Meet you all there.” Amira said

Simon put on his stuff and opened his window. Back then, Simons eyes and wings made him a freak, so he put together the Googles, face mask, Gloves and Sweater to make him look like a normal kid. His window was above the covered porch. From there he climbed to the top of the house, and then leapt. He glide as far as he does now, but he was still pretty good at it. He glided from roof to roof until he reached the park, he saw Vicky biking there as well as Brain walking. Simon landed in the clearing and tucked his wings away. Amira was already there, her hair appeared to be red in color, an illusion. Simon and Amira were the only two who hid who they were, what they were.

The Color Squad met up and Hung out until they saw the sun, then they went home and enjoyed their Christmas Day, Not knowing to some it would be their last for quite awhile.

Present(Spoilers for Wingman AU)

Context: Oz, Vicky and Brian have moved into Sparrow’s penthouse after realizing that the teenager whose mother died right before his eyes may want company, Amira still lives with her family, but is a frequent visitor. Sparrow is dating Vera, Oz is dating Zoe, Vicky is dating Liam, Brain is dating Scott, and Amira is with Damien, and Polly is actually Sparrow’s Third Cousin(Their Great Grandparents were siblings)

Sparrow’s Penthouse has a massive (artificial) Christmas tree, The thing reaches the second floor. Scott and Brian are putting the garland on tree, while Vicky, Damien, Liam, and Amira are in the kitchen baking Oatmeal Cookies, Peanut Butter Balls, and Tracey Hawk’s(Sparrow’s Mother) Apple Crisp. Vera, Valerie, Mr. Oberlin and Polly are Putting up the lights. No, they are not doing this on Christmas, this is Christmas Eve, and with some many hands helping, Tomorrow’s Christmas party is going to go off without a hitch.

Liam, Damien, and Zoe have never had a Christmas before, Damien despises the holiday, but both Amira and Vera will have his head if he acts out. And Liam never participated, seeing how “Mainstream” Christmas is.

Everyone opened one gift before they left, but they would return tomorrow for the party, Vera gave Sparrow a long kiss goodbye, knowing tomorrow would be hard for him, it was the 6th Christmas without his mother, but the first with no close family at all.    

Future

Time has gone by and the color squad had kids, The Color Kids if you will. Casper was the Illegitimate Child of Polly and Faith, Faith still wants nothing to do with them though, Seeing them as a freak accident. Now despite being Trans-gender, Brian never fully went through a gender transformation, so when he and Scott wanted a bio kid, they did it the old fashioned way. Zoe and Oz got freaky and made Dorothy, a sweet little adorable eldritch fear being. Calculester somehow got a hold of magic seeds that granted him a daughter in the form of Caroline. Now despite both of them being undead Liam and Vicky still brought life into this world, Mina was the name given to this life. Damien and Amira had a few kids, the one around the same age as the others is Fyra. Last but not least Sparrow and Vera have many kids, some biological, some adopted, all loved by their parents and Aunts. But the two old enough for this part are the “twins”, Quasi, a gargoyle, and Tracey(named after her Grandmother), a Winged Gorgon. Valerie got together Aaravi and Decided not to have kids, but will protect their family.

Sparrow and Vera have hosted Christmas for many years, their friends rejoice at not having to sett up as many decorations each year because of it. But this year in the middle of the party Sparrow noticed someone was missing.

“Quasi! Tracey!” Sparrow called for his kids from across the room.

Quasi flew over to him, while Tracey glided from the second floor.

“What’s wrong Dad?” Quasi asked

“Where’s your cousin?”

“Casper? They were here a minute ago.” Tracey said

“A minute? Are you sure it’s only been a minute.”

“Positive Dad.”

“Alright, Can you two back up?” Sparrow asked, and as soon as he backed up he took a deep breath and Screamed, now he isn’t just being loud, this is how he flies. Sparrow flew over to Polly.

“Hey Cuz, Casper’s missing.”

“They said they needed to get some fresh air.” Polly said, she then put on her serious face “They’ve been feeling like faith doesn’t care about them, it’s worse around the holidays”

“I know the feeling, I’m gonna try something.” Sparrow says floating down to a pantry closet, but this isn’t full of food, Sparrow’s father was an artifact collector. This closet held a lot of magic, Sparrow even keeps Amira’s necklace in here for safe keeping. Sparrow grabbed a golden orb the size of a basketball. he then went to the balcony and whispered to it

“Faith Fernández” he spoke, then the orb started to glow and fly, it zipped off and Sparrow followed it. As you can probably guess it’s a tracker orb, Sparrow landed right behind Faith, two blocks away from his building.

“Come to lecture me about my “Responsibility” again?“

“You know me so well, and yeah. Here I am again, and here you are again”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Funny, how I keep finding you not far from the kid, yet you say they’re a Freak Accident.” Sparrow Started “First, you were at the school, when they received an honors award, and here you are now, in clear view of my Christmas party”

“Coincidence, Nothing more.”

Sparrow threw up his hands in surrender, “Alright, but for someone who lectured me about what’s right. You’re refusing to do the right thing and take responsibility for Your accident.”

Before Faith could yell that Casper is Polly’s accident, Sparrow was gone.

Casper had been floating on the roof, even when Sparrow returned.

“Hey Kiddo,”

“H-hey, U-Uncle Sparrow, I’ll return to the party soon, don’t worry.”

“If you think that put’s me at ease, Then I’ve never told you about your mother’s time as a wraith”

“You have told me.”

“Then you know how I know you lying.”

“Because Mom gave the same excuses”

“To hide her feelings about your grandfather” Sparrow put his arm on Casper's Shoulder “I don’t know what your going through, but you can talk to me or your Mom about this. We will listen” Sparrow said lifting his arm off and walking away “Merry Christmas Casper”

“Merry Christmas, Uncle”

Quasi, Casper, Mina, Daryl, Caroline, and Dorothy by @lallorona04

Marry Christmas to all, and to all a Good Respite! @strange-doll-child @ask-lady-blue @segasister @mons1erprom

#monster prom #vera oberlin #oz yellow #vicky schmidt #vicky blue #amira rashid #amira red #brian yu #brian green #sparrow #sparrow hawk #valerie oberlin #mr oberlin #scott howl #damien lavey #calculester hewlett packard #mp zoe #liam de lioncourt #polly geist #faith fernandez #mp faith #next gen mp #christmas #christmas past #christmas present #christmas future #blueblood #dorky deities

[renaroo]

Thinking Positive

Disclaimer: Doom Patrol and associated characters are the creative property of DC Comics Warnings: internalized homophobia, depression Rating: T Synopsis: In order to heal, Larry will have to work on being more positive. It’s a long and difficult journey. 

A/N: I watched Doom Patrol last year and to say I loved it would be a major understatement. But the thing that took me by surprise the most was just how meaningful Larry Trainor’s story was to me, someone who also grew up surrounded by a lot of homophobia and feels like openly living with pride is still a difficult and ongoing struggle into my adulthood. 

And with global quarantine being what it is, I’ve had a lot of strange and curious time on my hands to work on things so far as mental health is concerned. And it’s had me thinking a lot about how sometimes negativity and cyncism is a coping mechanism that’s easy to use but damaging in the long run. I tend to take that perspective away from Larry’s story rather than the way the show sometimes dismisses valid personal fears of outing and shames closeting. So this rambling story came barreling out of me. I hope it makes some sense. 

Larry dismissed himself from dinner with the rest of Doom Manor’s residents.

It didn’t take much more than some dismissive words on his part, easily ignored over the rambunctious antics of Jane and Cliff, or the attempts to quell said antics by Vic and Flex. Rita was the most difficult to escape, considering Larry was her main outlet for commentary, but even she was willing to let him go when he stressed that he was tired.

He had tired rather easily over the last few months, and Rita knew why even more than the others.

In some ways, it was like therapy. In other ways, it was like torture. But that had always been Larry’s dilemma. He was rarely allowed to have one over the other.

Even before the Negative Spirit melded to his very soul.

When Larry attempted to frame his fears in less selfish designs, he framed his need for more energy as being there for the others. Cliff needed to have someone counter his gutsier instincts. Jane’s sarcasm needed someone equally verbose in it. And Rita, of course, counted on Larry’s counsel more than anyone’s. But it was easier, lately, with each other, with the others like Vic and Flex and even Dorothy, young in appearance and still finding her place as she was.

Besides all that, Larry had made a promise to himself that he wasn’t going to blame his reluctance on others anymore.

Which led to the closing of the thick lead door behind Larry. The slow removal of his protective bindings as the Richter scale crackled in the decompression port. The daily walk through his metal room and his radiation proofed furniture.

It was funny to think that his room had changed so little from the minimal aesthetic it had when the Chief first offered him a place nearly half a century ago. Funny, but also uncomfortable. Like it was wrong and stupid of him, but it had been so long that it would be weirder if Larry attempted to make any big changes.

He laid down on his bed and made himself comfortable, his hands rested over his chest, close to his heart.

Larry gazed at the ceiling and felt the rumbles deep in his body which let him know that the spirit was aware of what time it was.

“Hey there, buddy,” Larry said, voice low and tired. “It’s that time again. The one where I try to get stuff off my chest.” His hands tapped rather nervously over his shirt. It was light enough that the nerve damage kept the tips of his fingers from truly feeling more than the slight pressure of it. “Literally.”

For the life of him, Larry couldn’t figure out why he always started out so nervous and uncomfortable every day.

Then again, Larry had lived his entire life nervous and uncomfortable. It was hard to break habits formed over a century, he supposed.

“Okay, well, here goes nothing,” Larry sighed, closing his eyes and preparing himself. Idioms aside, it did not feel like nothing, it felt like everything every time.

“Start from the top? Positive things?” Larry asked out loud. With his eyes closed, the rumble from the negative spirit felt even stronger, more enthusiastic perhaps. “Of course, you eat those up. Alright.

”Today my azaleas began to bloom early. I got some rhododendron seeds in the mail. Chief is offering to get me a new greenhouse on the property, to expand things. Dorothy made me a flower crown. She didn’t use any of my flowers. I think she used paper and then with her, ah, powers turned them into real flowers. Usually, her using her powers is disturbing, like the whole thing with the puppets. But this was, you know, cute. I liked it. I mean it’s quicker to use a Snapchat filter, but…”

The negative spirit rumbles more abruptly. It gives Larry a sense of warning or disapproval.

“I know, I know, staying positive,” he sucks in a deep breath. It’s the sort of deep, lung filling breath that he’s only capable of thanks to the negative spirit’s possession of him. Their temporary separation reminded him of that. That, however, was an unspoken positive between them.

“I tried a new recipe, everyone seemed to enjoy it,” Larry continued. “It’s curried roasted eggplant with smoked cardamom and coconut milk.” He couldn’t resist the huff of a laugh that escaped him as a result. “Sheryl would’ve never believed it.”

There was a numbness that spread out from his chest. It was an overwhelming sense, but Larry considered it a good development.

He and the Negative Spirit both took a long time to have a response to his ex-wife being invoked that was anything other than overwhelmingly negative.

Still, it was best to trade subjects and not linger on old regrets. As natural as it was for Larry to do that.

“With all the new residents, this place has really gotten lively,” he said, arching his neck back more comfortably on the pillow. “I know I’ve let you out a few times to explore that for yourself, but you probably miss a lot of the little things.”

A gentle hum radiated out from his chest. Positive? Affirmation? Larry was still deciphering the finer bits.

“It’s good for all of them,” Larry concluded. “They fit together well. Well, not fit. The whole point of this place is that fitting is…”

He trailed off, catching his own turn toward negativity long before the spirit had a chance to disrupt him.

“It’s nice, seeing how meaningful it is for Cliff and Jane to have someone…” Larry scowled and lifted up one of his hands from his chest to scrub at his face. Doom Manor was so hard to contextualize sometimes. “Not younger. She’s older than all of us. Smaller? It’s nice to see Cliff and Jane both have someone smaller to look out for. Daughter. Little sister. However it goes.” He lowered his hand down to his side, away from his chest where he’d more acutely feel the rumbles of the Negative Spirit’s responses. “Did I mention she made me a crown? That was nice.”

Larry lapsed into silence, his eyes unfocused as they stared at his ceiling and past it toward all the feelings and regrets of a long life.

He never felt the need to regain a sense of fatherhood like Cliff was haunted by. But he had been a father, too. He had been a father of two.

And he never saw either of them again. Never tried.

Sheryl had taken them away to a better life. Maybe she remarried, to a man who could love her the way she deserved to be love. Maybe the boys got a father who could teach them all the things about being a man that were beyond Larry’s comprehension.

It probably would have been simple enough to find out, if Larry had asked questions or reached out.

But he hadn’t. He forfeited that part of his life, just like he had forfeited so much else.

In some ways, he hoped Sheryl had told the boys he had died. That way they never grew up wondering why Larry hadn’t reached out. So they didn’t have the accurate picture of what a coward their fearless flyboy father had been.

There was no telling how much time he was prepared to spend down that path before his body jolted.

Not without warning, the Negative Spirit seized through Larry’s body with force and separated. His eyes rolled back into his head and everything went limp and dark.

When Larry woke with a gasp, he already knew what had happened, but he sat upon his bed all the same and grabbed at his head in frustration.

“Look! This is part of it!” he yelled toward his chest. His heart was racing, equal parts the Negative Spirit’s pulsing and Larry’s own anger. “I know, I know we need to work on being positive, but you got yourself paired with one of the most naturally negative sons of bitches on the planet. This wasn’t just about you, alright? We’ve talked about this before. I was born negative. I’ve been looking at the dark side of things since I was seven years old and that’s not changed in a century. You have to work with me here if we’re going to get anywhere.”

He was answered only by the creaks and groans of Doom Manor.

“I’m allowed to remember bad things, you know,” Larry continued to argue. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe everyone’s right and I’ve been letting them rule me. I-I know you’re all right about that. But completely avoiding and ignoring negative things doesn’t keep them from existing. It’s dangerous. And it’s wrong.” His frown deepened. “I’d be more of a monster than I ever dreamed myself being, if I thought anything less than the fact that the boys didn’t deserve what they had to go through. Alright? They may be old men now, but they are still my boys. And they deserved not losing everything they ever knew. And they didn’t deserve all the secondhand anxiety and paranoia from me. Those are just facts. Even if they were unavoidable.”

Finally, the Negative Spirit hummed again.

“What? That’s what you wanted from me?” Larry asked, splaying his hands against his chest to feel the rumble more. “You wanted me to say it was unavoidable? Look, how many times do I have to learn these lessons until you’re satisfied?”

There was quiet once more.

“If it’s until I believe them,” Larry’s voice softened to a murmur, “we’ll be doing this every day for a long time. Maybe until the day I finally die. And even then it might not be enough. You know that, right? I’m pretty majorly fucked in here, and a good amount of that came with the package before you joined in, buddy.”

The hum was unmistakable that time, Larry felt it through his core.

Okay.

“Okay,” Larry repeated, laying back down. “Stop having fits the second we go into some territory you don’t like, I’ll try to respond quicker.”

There was another unmistakable hum through his chest.

“If you’re wondering about the conversation with Rita about Flex, then you probably were already aware of most of it,” Larry snorted. “I’m coming up on one hundred years old, I don’t want to repeat what I said to my best friend about someone else’s quads.” He tossed his head a little from side to side and then sighed. “They are nice, though. And admitting it out loud didn’t light me on fire, so, who knows. Maybe being gay does get easier with practice.”

That seemed to satisfy the spirit, and it did Larry, too.

Small victories — victories so small that a previous version of himself might have argued they weren’t worth celebrating, not for the amount of time it took for him to get to that point. But he felt the accomplishment all the same.

There were so many regrets and so much fear in his life that was still there, and he still didn’t believe that erasing all of it was the fully responsible or realistic thing to do.

But he could make himself lighter, in whatever small increments he could. And that was surely worth the battle alone.

#writing #dc fic #Larry Trainor #Negative Man #Keeg Bovo

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Dead Man Walking (4/?)

Summary: Prime Ministers don’t normally wake up in morgues after they’ve been murdered, but that’s exactly what Robert Sutherland has just done. Right in front of Lacey’s nose. With limited resources and not knowing who to trust, Sutherland and Lacey must work together to get to the bottom of the attempted assassination.

Based loosely on this dream I had.

Rated: T, eventually E.

Note: This is meant to be ‘darkly humorous and amusing mystery’ rather than ‘gripping political thriller’…

[One] [Two] [Three] [AO3]

—

Dead Man Walking

Four

Lacey’s night just kept getting stranger. Having delivered the Prime Minister safely into the hands of his Chief of Staff, who, although at least three sheets to the wind and probably closer to four, did at least seem capable, she should have just left them to it.

She should have just got them out of the hospital, waved them cheerily away with a cry of ‘good luck, don’t nearly get assassinated again’ and gone home. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, for heaven’s sake, she had better places to be than skulking down alleyways beside the ambulance station. Like bed, for instance.

But no. Here she was, skulking down an alleyway with the Prime Minister, the Prime Minister’s drunk Chief of Staff, and the Prime Minister’s drunk Chief of Staff’s equally drunk mother, for whose presence no one had a satisfactory explanation.

There was a taxi waiting in the shadows and Lacey nearly jumped out of her skin when the lights came on, half-convinced that the secret service had caught them, and they were all about to be thrown in jail for absconding with a supposedly dead body.

These fears were immediately allayed by the taxi driver sticking her head out of the window wearing an incredulous expression.

“Did you two just kidnap the Prime Minister?” she whispered, in as close to a shout of alarm as a whisper could ever get. “I told you I wasn’t getting involved in any illegal activity! You put him back where you found him right now or I’m turning this car around!”

“We’re not kidnapping him, we’re rescuing him,” Carrie said patiently. “And considering we found him in the morgue, we’d really rather not put him back there if it’s all the same to you.”

“Well, technically we found him in a linen closet,” Mrs de Ville pointed out. “Miss French found him in the morgue.”

“Can we please get out of here?” Sutherland asked. “I thought this was a rescue mission; you’re talking more than a fucking cabinet meeting and making about as little sense.”

The stunned taxi driver still did not move.

“Shouldn’t you have a limo and bodyguards and the works?” she asked.

“Well, if we’re going to get technical,” Carrie snapped. “As it is, he’s got us, and I suggest that we get out of here.”

Carrie bundled the Prime Minister into the back of the taxi, much to his protest at being manhandled on top of already having died that evening and been poked with needles by Lacey.

Lacey should have taken this as her cue to leave. He was in good hands; everything would be all right. All she had to do now was avoid the hospital for a couple of days until the furore died down and Sutherland was officially alive and back in Downing Street again.

Her phone buzzed with the arrival of a text message, and the weight of it in her hand reminded her of her earlier phone call to Dorothy and the test tubes of blood she’d dropped off in the pathology lab whilst she’d had Sutherland hiding in the closet. She couldn’t walk away now. Like it or not, she was in too deep. She’d been in too deep the moment she decided to help the poor man avoid the Suits rather than simply informing the necessary authorities that he was alive.

She looked at the message; it was from her father.

DID YOU STEAL THE PM???

She ignored it and shoved her phone back in her bag. She could answer later, once everything wasn’t quite so up in the air.

“Are you coming, darling?” Carrie was standing by the open taxi door. “All things considered I think we might need you. As amazingly put together as I look right now, I’m just a tad worse for wear and a sober brain might be helpful. And, of course, we can work out some kind of recompense for the marvellous help you’ve already given.”

It was not exactly the promise of recompense that swayed Lacey, but she couldn’t deny that when one of the most powerful people in the country – she’d seen Yes Minister, she knew how much power the Civil Service held – said that she might be needed, it did make her preen a little.

“My moped’s round the corner,” she said. “I’ll follow you.”

With that, she thought, she’d effectively thrown her lot in with Sutherland and sealed her fate, no matter what that might be once the Suits caught up to them. If the Suits caught up to them. Maybe now that they’d discovered the body was missing, they’d realise what had happened and give it up as a bad job.

Carrie gave a nod of understanding and got back into the taxi. Immediately a heated discussion started up between her and the taxi driver, and Lacey left them to it, hurrying round the corner to where she’d left her moped, praying that this was not the one night that her luck had run out and she’d been clamped. Mercifully, the tired little Yamaha was waiting for her exactly where she’d left it earlier in the evening, as free as a bird.

A couple of minutes later she was following the taxi down the winding lanes that led away from Stoke Mandeville and into the middle of the dark countryside. She had no idea where she was going, all the roads looked the same at this time of night, and a thought struck her that they might be headed for Chequers. She quickly squashed it; there was no way she’d be allowed in there and Carrie wouldn’t have invited her.

They did not end up outside Chequers. They ended up outside a well-appointed detached house set back from the road on a leafy avenue in a quaint village. It was so typically English and respectable that it made the perfect hideout for a supposedly-dead Prime Minister and his partners in crime, and Lacey had to laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation as she pulled into the sweeping driveway and parked up next to the taxi.

“Right. Coffee, I think,” Carrie said as she helped Sutherland out of the back of the taxi. “Would you like to come in for some, Ursula?” she asked the taxi driver. “You can leave your meter running if you like, but after all tonight’s excitement, I think you deserve something.”

Ursula was very visibly in two minds before she switched the taxi engine off and got out.

“Whatever,” she muttered. “Tonight’s already so goddamn weird. Might as well have coffee with the Prime Minister who just got kidnapped from a hospital.”

Mrs de Ville let them into the house and set about making coffee as everyone else settled in the living room – as stylish as Carrie and her mother looked, Lacey had to admit that the décor was absolutely atrocious. Carrie was fussing over Sutherland, who was not at all appreciative.

“I’m not sure I like you like this,” he muttered. “Worrying like a mother hen isn’t a good look on you. Where’s the snarky wisecracker telling me to get a grip every ten minutes.?

“Oh, she’s still here. It’s not every day that your boss dies and rises from the grave. I was distraught, Robert, I’ll have you know. Ask Mother. She’ll have to get the front wall repaired. I can’t believe how dismissive of my affections you are. I’ll withhold them next time you find yourself waking up in a morgue. You’ll be on your own then.”

Sutherland smiled. “That’s the Carrie I know.”

Mrs de Ville came in bearing a tray laden with cups, cafetière, sugar bowl and milk jug, along with a plate of chocolate biscuits, and Lacey reached out to intercept the cup that was heading towards Sutherland.

“No! I told you, you’re on water until we know what killed you. Besides, you already told me you thought it was your coffee that had been poisoned, surely that should put you off the stuff.”

Carrie raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think anything could put Robert off his coffee.”

Sutherland just glowered at Lacey. “Can I at least have a cigarette?” he asked, looking over at Mrs de Ville slotting one into the end of her holder. “After everything I’ve been through tonight, I think I deserve that small comfort at least.”

As a semi medical professional, Lacey knew that the correct answer was no, but the poor man looked so incredibly done with absolutely everything that she relented.

“Fine.”

He looked to Carrie, who had just accepted the pack from her mother and who rolled her eyes before handing it to him.

“Do you ladies mind if we light up?” Mrs de Ville asked Lacey and Ursula. “I wholeheartedly agree with the Prime Minister concerning the stressful events of the night and I’m not even the one who got assassinated.”

Ursula shrugged. “It’s your house, I’m just here for the ride. Well, that’s not strictly true, I’m here because I am the ride.”

“The one good thing about coming home is that I can use a cigarette holder and not look pretentious,” Carrie said.

“No, you still look pretentious,” Sutherland muttered. “There’s just two of you looking pretentious together.”

“I’m sorry, did you say someone had been assassinated?” Ursula said. Everyone in the room pointed to Sutherland and Ursula’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. “I’ve been in a car all night, I don’t think I’m up to speed here, and if you’re going to invite me in and give me coffee then I think I need to know the whole story in case some government scientists try to do experiments on me.” She looked at Lacey with suspicion. “You’re not a government scientist, are you?”

“Hell no.” Lacey threw her hands up in defence. “I just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time when the assassinee woke up, because the assassin didn’t do a very good job.”

“Right.” Ursula stared into the depths of her coffee cup and the room fell silent for a while.

“We’ve got to get to the bottom of this before someone realises that you’re missing,” Carrie said suddenly, stubbing out her cigarette and jumping up before grimacing and rubbing her head. “Ugh, Mother, why did you decide that elderflower wine was a good idea?”

“Elderflower wine is always a good idea. I think the problem came when we decided to bring gin into the mix.”

Lacey wished that she wasn’t on her moped. She could really have used some gin.

“Anyway, Sir Albert’s up to his neck in it, I swear. He’s locked me out of everything. Why’s he even down here in the first place? If you’ve got me you shouldn’t need him. He should be running the show up in London.”

Sutherland shrugged. “I didn’t invite him. I didn’t even know he was down here. Bad news must have travelled fast when you found me.”

Carrie shook her head. “No, he was already here, there’s no way he could have got here from London that fast.”

“Well, we already know that he’s a fucking piece of work, so it’s not too much of a stretch of the imagination to think he’d stretch to murder. I mean, he’s always hated me ever since I made it clear I wasn’t going to be his lapdog and he couldn’t just shove his hand up my arse and run the country through me like he did to my predecessor.”

Lacey couldn’t help but give a snort of laughter at that summation.

“It’s settled then. Sir Albert was responsible!” Mrs de Ville clapped her hands together. “I told you I was made to be a sleuth.”

“Mother, you did precisely nothing. And besides, as much as we all hate Sir Albert, we need some kind of proof.” Carrie’s eyes lit up. “Ursula! How do you feel about earning another fare?”

“Is this one going to involve illegal activity?”

“Well, that depends on your definition of illegal.”

Lacey’s phone buzzed again; she hoped it wasn’t her dad persisting with questions about the stolen Prime Minister.

Luckily, it was Dorothy with the test results.

D: Who the hell did you take this blood from? Are they still alive? Have you been sneaking around with your dad’s corpses?

L: Classified, yes, and technically no.

D: Technically… You know what, I don’t want to know. Anyway, here we go.

“Ok, it looks like you were poisoned with something I can’t pronounce that was extracted from the rhododendron plant, and you’ll be pleased to know that you can now eat and drink whatever you’d like as long as it does not contain rhododendrons.”

“Thank God.” Sutherland attacked the plate of biscuits with relish.

The conversation with Dorothy brought Lacey’s mind back full circle to the hospital.

“This Sir Albert guy you keep talking about,” she said. “Tall, grey suit, not much hair and what’s there is white, grey eyes, looks like he could kill you at fifty paces with dour expression alone?”

Sutherland nodded. “Yes, that certainly sounds like him. Head of the Civil Service.”

“Yeah, he was at the hospital. He was the one who kept delaying your autopsy and the one who, according to Dad, went ballistic when he handed off your effects to forensics without his say-so.”

“Yes, that definitely sounds like him.”

Carrie and Sutherland looked at each other.

“Bastard,” Carrie said. “Right, that settles it. We’re going to Chequers for evidence.”

Sutherland grabbed the last biscuit. “Can you get me some clothes whilst you’re there?”

#rumbelle fic #sutheracey #Robert Sutherland #Lacey French #Cruella De Vil #Fic: Dead Man Walking

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Darkstache Day 4: Strange Encounters

Dark is sick. Wilford wants to be the supportive boyfriend, but ends up taking the longest, most convoluted route to Dark’s room when he wakes somewhere different.

Word Count: 1,331.

Today’s prompt is sponsored by the fact that I hand-wrote most of this in work and genuinely thought it wouldn’t be as long as it is!

--

When Wilford woke, slumped on an unfamiliar couch in an unfamiliar studio, he knew he had fallen out of time again. Normally, this would be exciting, but not today. Dark had been unwell the previous day and had been getting worse. In times like these, Wilford was the only company he wanted. Leaving the entity alone could cause trouble if the wrong Ego aggravated him!

“Wilford. Are you sleeping on the job again?”

The voice made Wilford snap his head in the direction of the source. There stood Dark, but it wasn’t his Dark. This one had no tie, a shirt spread out enough to emphasise his collarbone, and an unbuttoned shirt. The style was far more casual than what his Dark would wear. His black hair fell haphazardly over his left eye. He stood with the right build and Wilford presumably guessed it was the right height too, but it wasn’t the right Dark. The distinctive crack-like scar across the left cheek was missing. This Dark glared down on him with a bemused expression, and it dawned on Wilford that he had yet to reply.

“Oh, uh… Yup! Super busy mornin’. Lemme just grab my, uh, coat in th’ office.” Before this Dark could question why Wilford would possibly need a coat during a heat wave, Wilford scrambled onto his feet and dashed into the nearest room - the bathroom. A quick glance around the tiny bathroom revealed a cupboard. Channeling his inner Dorothy, he pulled it open, stepped inside, and stumbled out of a closet in a boardroom. It looked as generic and bland as any boardroom in any timeline he had ever visited, so it was an impossible measure of whether he was home. He was grateful that the coast was clear (he already interrupted a board meeting before during one of these escapades. Never again!) and made his way to the door. As he glanced outside the boardroom, the wall opposite him was a dull white as opposed to a dull cream. That was proof that he was in the wrong timeline again. Just as he was about to pull his head back inside, voices caught his attention and he peered to his left.

A man and a woman were looking at something one of them had dropped. The woman was dressed in a free-flowing, yet incredibly sophisticated, black dress. Her black hair was swept over to the right with the tips of the fringe fading to red. Interestingly, there was a faint glow of red and blue around her as she made sure the man was okay. Was she ‘Dark’? As for the man... In all the timeline-hopping Wilford has done, he had never seen someone like that man. He was around the same height as the woman, and wore a sky-blue waistcoat with black suit trousers, both of which were complimented with a white shirt. His hair - dyed the same blue as his clothes - was also brushed to the right, but seemed to have curls in it. The large, blue-tinted round glasses only added to the intriguing look. She was charming, he was adorable; and in another point in time Wilford would have let himself get caught to meet both. However, the entity who had his heart was ill and needed him. He darted back into the cupboard just as the boardroom door opened.

The door is opened again, and he is immediately greeted by the sight of a Dark turning to face him. The creature - for this was clearly no human - gave an unnaturally wide grin before reaching a clawed hand to try and grab him. The door was rapidly slammed. That was certainly not his Dark!

He had to take a moment to calm down after that scare. While Wilford was one to roll with any and all unusual turns of events, seeing a distortion of his boyfriend was never something that he can get used to. With a shaky breath, he reluctantly opened the door and nervously poked his head out. Tension slipped out of his body the moment he recognised the office. This was Dark’s office, but it was still the wrong timeline. However, this was the one he dubbed the “nearly mine” timeline. It was the one he liked visiting when he needed to get advice. As far as he could tell, there were only minor differences between the two times. For example, the offices were nearly identical, but this one had extra additions to accommodate a cat. Said cat - a silver tabby with nearly-golden eyes - bounded over to the door of the office and mewled at the familiar stranger. She caught the attention of her owner, and he threw a dismissive glance Wilford’s way as he finished what he was writing.

This Dark looked like a college professor, something Wilford made sure to call him. His three-piece suit was impeccable, and the burnt umber tie added to the ‘vintage’ look he was trying to recreate. His hair was cut tight, bar the fringe that was combed neatly to the left. The entity’s pale purple eyes glanced up at the Wilford before him again, and a small smile appeared.

“Rose,” he greeted calmly with the nickname Wilford used to prevent confusion. “I was beginning to think you had gotten better at not falling through time.” The timeline-hopper gave a ‘guilty as charged’ shrug.

“I’d love ta stay an’ chat, Prof, but I gotta get home. My Dark’s sick an’ I don’t wanna leave him alone.” The other Dark gave a sympathetic look, knowing the saga Wilford had to go through to start that relationship in the first place. Giving a salute, Wilford turned and put his hand on the door handle. A knock on the desk made him spin back around in confusion.

“You know you will only continue going in circles if you haphazardly force yourself into different times. You told me as much, remember?” Wilford nodded slowly, and Dark took this as an incentive to continue. “Before you open the door, focus all your thoughts on where you want to be. Ground yourself, and you will return home safely. Good luck, Rose.” The pair exchanged a smile before Wilford turned his attention to the door. A deep breath was his motivation to imagine Dark’s bedroom, where the entity would hopefully be resting. He visualised the way Dark would smile up at him once realising Wilford was there. With nothing but his partner on his mind, Wilford opened the door and bravely stepped through.

It was carefully closed behind him as Wilford entered the familiar room. To his immense relief, bundled under several blankets, was his Dark. Kicking off his shoes, Wilford crept toward the bed while taking off the bow tie. As he drew closer, there was movement under the blankets. The shivering mass underneath stirred awake and groggily rolled over to figure out who had entered.

Dark’s violet eyes were half-lidded as he tried to recognise the intruder with his half-asleep mind. His medium-length black hair was tousled, yet the light waves looked as impeccable as always. The normal traces of glowing lights were dim to mirror how low Dark felt while sick. But most importantly, the white scar on his left cheek that resembled broken glass was clear as day. It scrunched up slightly as that smile Wilford had visualised came to life.

“I didn’t think you were coming.” Wilford felt a pang in his heart as he heard the way Dark croaked. He sat at the edge of the bed and brushed some loose strands out of Dark’s face.

“I’m sorry, my sickly shadow. I got a little lost on my way here, but I’m here now. I’m not leavin’.” That last sentence was enough for Dark to move again so he could open the nest of blankets as an invitation for Wilford to climb in and join him. Before long, the pair were dozing in the other’s arms: safe, sound, and secure in this timeline.

(Final note: all but the first Dark are actually versions of Dark I have written over the last year or so. The role-reversal Dark was a revamp that I only developed today, however.)

(Final final note: I don’t get to write the role-reversal verse but I really should look into doing so because I love it)

#projectdarkstache #darkstacheweek2019 #darkstacheweek #darkstache #wilford warfstache #darkiplier #writersofmark #Cracked Mirror (Dark) #Rose Petals (Wilford) #personal fave

[wordsbydorothy]

             Alyssa didn’t expect to find herself at a whole in the wall bar at 11am on a Thursday evening. She ordered a whiskey sour, feeling the music playing through the speakers coursing through her veins. Fight, just to fuck just to fight again. There was something about Jessie Reyez raspy voice that usually made her want to fuck shit up, but this morning it just made her feel empty.

Contrary to her melancholy persona, Alyssa’s life wasn’t as terrible as she made it seem. She had a stable job that mostly paid the bills, a decent apartment and a functioning car. She wouldn’t say she was happily single, but she found a distinct pleasure in kicking strangers out her bed at 3am, something she couldn’t do when she lived with her mom. Her mom was the kind that lived to control your every move. She couldn’t go out past 8pm, she couldn’t go to parties that had boys and she sure as hell couldn’t sleep over by anyone. Add that to a severe amount of unrealistic expectations, the kind parents placed on their kids when they didn’t live out all their childhood dreams, and it equaled a distinct hatred for herself and the roof she lived under before she turned fourteen.

You could call it teen angst or pre-teen angst or even blame it on the raging hormones; but in the midst of all of that self-hatred, at such a young age, she knew she wanted the freedom to love whoever she wanted, whenever she wanted without anyone judging her. At seventeen she hid her first boyfriend, Chris, from her mom. They met at church. It was the only place her mom trusted her to go without supervision, but after all those years, she didn’t quite find herself religious. She believed there was a God. She just wasn’t sure where she stood on everything else.

Every Friday her mom would drop her off at youth group where despite her mom asking people to keep an eye on her; she and Chris would sneak off during praise and worship, to make out in the church nursery. To some extent, she felt a tinge of guilt knowing she had most of her firsts in a church, but it was the big first that she didn’t see until she got to college – and it was terrible. It was grimy bed sheets, drunk kissing and sweat, shortly followed by a raging UTI. The kind she was sure her mother asked God to smite her with because she could sense that her child was in college being the person she prayed she wouldn’t turn into.

But, it wasn’t her childhood trauma or her mother that had her drinking at 11am on a Thursday – it was the church boy, Chris.

Alyssa had turned the lock on her gate when she saw a figure on her steps. Her hand gripped her pepper spray as she stared at the stranger, but her body relaxed before her mind could process that she knew the man sitting there. She stared for a moment, the tattoo that snaked up his right arm confirming that it was indeed him. His locks had grown. When they were together he had just started to grow them out. Now, the curled slightly at midback the color shifting from a dark brown to light at the ends. She paused for a moment, then pulled her key out and went back inside.

She paced, dropping her keys on the kitchen table. Her cat Mimsy rubbed against her leg, as if she could sense her anxiety, her agitation. She didn’t know what he was doing there. They hadn’t seen each other since the last time he visited almost four years ago. She never expected to see him again, and she was okay with that, until now. It almost felt like another one of those fateful prayers from her mother.

Ten years ago in an empty movie theater, she told him he loved her. He didn’t say it back. The next day when she texted him, she only got silence. He avoided her. There was no I’m sorry, we’re done. He just disappeared. Then, four years ago they ran into each other at Music Midtown in Atlanta. She wanted to be angry, but instead they caught up, enjoyed music together, ate at a grimy restaurant at two in the morning and talked about everything that went wrong. He apologized and she forgave him. After all, he, like the church walls has seen all of her and then some. They made love in her hotel room. At least, she thought they did. When she woke up in the morning he was gone, and she felt like she was nothing but a one-night stand, another notch in his belt. Again, he left with no word and this time, she vowed to forget him. But she couldn’t. He wasn’t someone she could just forget.

A lot had changed in the four years since she last saw him. Back then, she kept her hair in braids, too afraid to show the world who she was underneath the layers of makeup and extensions. Her auburn curls, now loose and untamed framed her face. Her dark freckles seemed more prominent against her olive skin with the change of hair color. She paused, splashed water on her face then walked out the door again.

He was still there.

A part of her hoped he would have left, but there he was.

“I didn’t think you’d come back out,” he said. His voice startled her. She forgot the way the clarity in his throaty voice made her feel, the way it sounded when he’d lower it an octave or two, the things it did to her. She pulled herself out of her reverie before she went too far.

“Me either,” she said.

He shifted, making room for her to sit next to him. She stared at the empty space for a moment, curiosity guiding her down the stairs next to him. They sat there for a moment in silence.

“I-” she started at the same time he did.

“You first,” he said.

She shook her head. “No, you go.”

She pressed her back against the rail, forcing herself to look at him. His jawline tightened, the way it did when he was trying to say something he didn’t know how to say. His deep brown eyes looked up at her and she inhaled sharply, looking away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Then again, louder. “I’m sorry.”

She wanted to ask for what, but she could see on his face that he was getting there. The crisp air reminded her that Atlanta winter was coming. The leaves had fallen off the trees and dog walkers’ sweaters were thicker than usual. She shivered, not from the cold, but from fear of what came next.

“I shouldn’t have left that night,” he said.

“But you did,” she snapped. “Sorry, I-”

“No, you’re okay,” his voice lowered. Goosebumps popped up on her legs. “I deserve that, I deserve all your anger.”

“Why’d you leave?” she whispered, hugging her knees.

“I couldn’t, I saw you there, I -,” he stammered. “Seeing you curled up next to me like that scared me. I knew that if I woke up that morning next to you… I’d-”

“Don’t,” she looked up at him. “Don’t do that.”

Their eyes met. He was confused.

“You used a version of that excuse 10 years ago after I told you I loved you,” Alyssa felt heat rising to her face. “And then again, the day before I woke up to an empty bed, so no, you don’t get to do that to me, not again.”

“That wasn’t, please, let me explain,” he turned to face her, but she couldn’t do this. She reached to grab her keys when his hand touched her thigh and the world around her paused. It was like her stomach was caving in on itself, as if, for a moment she forgot how to breathe. Her mind drew a blank, her throat, tightened and coiled like a rope, suffocating her.

“Please,” he rasped.

She turned to face him again, but his hand never left her thigh. He talked but she heard nothing. The last time she felt his touch was the only thing her mind could process. She found herself aching to kiss him in that moment. To remind herself what it felt like to be with him. She snapped back, realizing he had stopped talking and was staring at her. He reached towards her, but she pulled back in shock, then let him. She leaned into his touch, only to feel a distinct ache when he pulled away, water glimmering on his fingers. She stared at her tears clinging to his finger for a moment, then grabbed her keys and walked away, wiping the rest from her eyes.

“Alyssa,” he called out. But she kept walking until she found the bar on Peachtree.

__________________________

It was 4pm when the bartender asked her if she wanted him to order something for her from the burger joint next door. She nodded. When the food came, she picked at it. He placed a water in front of her and left her to her own thoughts again. The music had changed from Top Hits to a mellow, alternative R&B. Alyssa found herself wondering what would have happened had she stayed, if she had listened to his apology. She always wondered what life with him would have been like, but the thought left her head as the bell signaling another customer walked in went off. It was the only thing keeping her from letting her thoughts consume her.

She didn’t look up when she felt someone sit next to her at the bar, they’d move eventually. The bartender came over and asked for their order, sliding another glass of water next to her untouched cup.

“Whiskey neat,” the voice said. She looked up then, Chris’ dark eyes staring back at her. She found herself overwhelmed for a moment. Then, she pulled her hair tie off her wrist, pulling her hair out of her face into a bun on top of her head.

“Two,” she said, praying to God that he wouldn’t shatter her once more.

- Learning to Pray x Dorothy

#covid-19 writing #flash fiction #whiskey #peachtree #music midtown #wordoftheday #writing #words of the day #fiction of the day #psuedofiction

[dcarevu]

Batman TAS: Perchance to Dream

“It’s a big hole in the ground, with a big car in it that’s all black. Remember?”

Episode: 30 Robin: No Writers: Joe R Lansdale (teleplay), Laren Bright (story), and Michael Reaves (story). Director: Boyd Kirkland Animator: Dong Yang Airdate: October 19, 1992 Grade: A

This should go without saying, but because of the nature of the episode (and because it was spoiled for me before I ever saw it), I am issuing a MASSIVE SPOILER WARNING. Take this as me telling you that going into this episode blind is highly recommended, and part of the fun of it is the mystery.

Are you ever disappointed to wake up from a dream? For me, it is usually a matter of not having finished the story that was playing out, or forgetting details. I don’t like waking up and causing cliffhangers which go forever unsolved, especially when I can’t even tell people about them. Then there are the dreams that you are so glad you woke up from. Usually these dreams consist of the scariest things we have ever experienced. Isn’t it crazy to think about? For many of us, the scariest moments of our lives never even truly happened in the real world. Batman lives these moments practically every episode. Things like our friend getting half of their body demolished and then turning into a contradicting gangster, or a clown who turns all the fish in the area into smiling, trepidatious frights. These events have very dreamlike qualities. They likely would never happen in real life, and don’t make all that much sense. Ironically, when Batman has what starts out as the best dream of his life, providing an escape from all that we try to avoid at night, he wants nothing to do with it. Because even though our REM thoughts are his conscious ones, and he probably could have lived the rest of his life in bliss, it means nothing to him if it’s not real. Looking the other way is not something that Batman is capable of. This is why he has made the enormous impact he has. Not only did the night at Crime Alley send his life into a gothic cave of despair, it also seemed to cause him to purposely repel any hope of happiness. Happiness to Batman is irresponsibility. Yet he stops at nothing to allow the innocent to live the happy life he is incapable of.

This is one of my favorite episodes of the entire series, even though I never got to experience the unknown. Batman falls into a mysterious trap, but wakes up immediately afterward. Suddenly, his life is completely different. His parents are alive. Selena Kyle is set to become his wife. He is no longer Batman. The weight of responsibility has been removed. He is set to live life as a rich playboy, while someone else swings around the city in a bat-mask. But there is a nagging feeling that none of it is right. There are inconsistencies and problems that prevent him from enjoying. Through a series of events, he ends up at the top of a tower in a cemetery, in a fight against himself, eventually jumping to what seems like his death. He wakes up from a dream that the Mad Hatter set up for him, and apprehends the criminal. What makes this episode so sad is that Bruce so desperately wants the dream to be real. At one point, after talking to Leslie Thompkins, he actually does begin to accept things. He tells us, “The nightmare is over!” Bruce considers his life a nightmare. He hates being Batman, but he is an addict. Right as he is truly about to throw his old life away, he opens up a newspaper and can’t read a word. The text is all jumbled. This is proof that this new life is not real, as he knows that in dreams, it is impossible to read. Cleverly, at the beginning of the episode, there is a sign on a building that is jumbled up, and no one mentions it. A very subtle detail that one can appreciate on a second watch. Another Easter egg is the music that plays immediately as soon as the title card pops up. It’s the Mad Hatter’s theme music, and we have only seen Hatter one time, so one is not likely to recognize it. But if you know it, you know it. Figuring this detail out yourself can give one a sense of accomplishment, and discovering a twist ending on your own rather than a spoiler is incredibly satisfying.

I also noticed that certain characters are nowhere to be seen, most notably being Robin. At first I wasn’t sure how to take this. Does Batman regret inviting Robin into his life? Why is Robin not there? This is supposed to be his desired life. But after talking to Char, I realized that in Batman’s ideal world, Robin’s parents never would have been killed in the first place, and so Robin would have no reason to be living with Bruce. Alfred is here, but his usual warmth seems to have vanished. I think this is less a reflection of Bruce, and more that Alfred never had to become such a fatherly figure. He lived with Bruce’s parents, serving as the butler, and not much more. He is still fairly friendly, but there is not as much between he and Bruce as there typically is at all. Also, I’m not sure if this was an inside-joke, but there is one point where Alfred helps pick out something for Bruce to wear. He selects a brown coat and says, “This should be just the thing for your meeting.” In the DVD commentary, the crew has joked about Bruce’s sense of style, making fun of his typical mustard-yellow and brown combo. The way Alfred says it makes me wonder, but I could be looking way too much into it.

Perchance to Dream is mostly action free until the ending, but Dong Yang still manage to knock it out of the park. Their best work yet, and they especially shine during the climax. There were some incredibly beautiful shots, and other points in the story are great too. There were a couple instances where the animation was massively smooth, reminding me of the pilot The Dark Knight’s First Night. I’m wondering if they blew their budget on this one, and that is why their work on Robin’s Reckoning is so poor (coming soonish). Credit should also go to Boyd Kirkland who’s angles and ideas give us a sense of wonder at every step, even when fairly mundane. The voice cast does the same. I swear the police officer is voiced by the dude that did a bunch of trailers in the 90’s or early 2000’s. Because I am so used to hearing it in that environment, yes, it sounds very out of place in Batman, but in a good way. His delivery is startling, and it acts as icing on top of the dreamlike cake. While we’re on voices, though, it should be noted that Bruce doesn’t talk in his Batman voice for the majority of the story. if this is his natural speaking voice, I think he should have been. I’m sure there’s a way to make it sound happy. They did it in Batman Beyond. At the same time, lines like “I’ve never felt better in my life, sir” have such perfect delivery they make me tear up, and said any differently would not have been as stellar. Oh gosh, and Mad Hatter’s delivery. The anguish made you feel for him, and he is not a character I held any sympathy for previously. I found him to be the ultimate incel. Many people see him as a tragic character, he’s a creepy asshole who carries the dreaded “nice guy syndrome”. Does he mean well? Don’t know, don’t care. But hearing him scream at Batman, explaining that he was willing to give Batman the life he always wanted just to prevent him from being a bother anymore, it’s heart-breaking. He simply wants Batman out of the way, and he decided to do it humanely this time. I find this very interesting, and this Mad Hatter episode dwarfs Mad as a Hatter.

Batman’s wipers come on after his car is coated in gunk. It’s the little details.

Nothing good ever happens on catwalks in this show.

Pictured here is a 13-year-old in the presence of Justin Bieber. Or whoever the kids listen to these days.

Little known fact, the Batcave is very much there. But this is. obviously an episode where it’s located behind the bookshelf, not behind the clock. Silly Bruce! Must have forgotten to read that part of the script.

Well no wonder he always wears that jacket with those options. 

I’m wondering what types of things Bruce does with his parents still alive and all. Then again, nothing in this world exists beyond the boundaries of when the dream starts and ends.

Bruce has been wanting Selena practically since her first appearance. But that face says it all. Is this relationship any more genuine than Mat Hatter and Alice’s?

This is the point of the episode where I could really sense the gears in Char’s head working. It’s the point where things go from being wrong to impossible. 

Notice the sign. 

Love the movement of Batman’s cape.

Some of the unusually smooth animation I mentioned before.

Great takedown. Batman holds the guy and spins down a pole, making him so dizzy that he faints. 

These two have the most conflicting colors on...

“Then... The nightmare is over.”

Kinda wish we saw Bruce shed a couple of tears.

Not only is the text all jumbled up, but there also seems to be way more text than what would fit on the paper. Even more strange, we see a smiling Batman. 

A look of madness on Bruce that we hardly ever see. it’s a great facial expression. 

The text here is also unreadable. Also, we’re getting to the point of the episode where virtually every angle is perfect. So here is a series of shots:

Boyd Kirkland and his team clearly cared a lot.

Batman comes in mysteriously like a kite. It reminds me of when Dorothy was trapped in the tornado. 

Bruce gets a taste of what criminals get almost every night.

Seriously, how can a figure with cute little bat-ears be so threatening-looking?

The Mad Hatter’s model isn’t quite as finicky this time around, and while I still feel that it was probably hard to translate to animation, it works a lot better. He looks like he belongs on the show.

Look at that smug face. He is sure that Bruce will never escape. I also like the thought of Bruce reaching a waking point, so even though he’s still asleep, he still picks up conversation going on around him. His subconscious recognizes Jarvis’ voice, and that’s how dream-Bruce was able to reveal the truth. But that’s just my interpretation. 

Bruce took a gamble, and you can tell by his expression that he may regret jumping. He truthfully has no idea if this will do the trick or not.

This is weird, but I love the shape of Batman’s eye here. 

Char’s grade: A Next time: The Cape and Cowl Conspiracy

Full episode list here!

#perchance to dream #dcau #dc animated universe #batman tas #btas #batman the animated series #mad hatter #spoilers

[abhisek-basu]

My wife was psychic for a short while -A short horror story by Abhisek Basu

I love my wife, Lily, dearly. She has always been my best friend. I was devoid of love and affection for most of my life until she came along eight years ago. I have been in love ever since. We have been married for 5 years now.

You realize you love someone when you’re ready to do anything for them. I’d do anything for Lily. If she said that the sky was red: it was red. If it wasn’t, I’d paint it red.

We had a beautiful daughter on 28th March, 3 years ago. We named her Dorothy, after Lily’s grandmother.

 That is when things started to get strange.

One morning my beloved Lily woke up and said:

“I need to tell you something.  I cannot keep it in me any longer. I don’t expect you to understand, but you’re the only person I can trust.”

At first, I thought she was joking. But she was sweating profusely, and her eyes told me that this wasn’t some silly prank.

“Yes, darling. What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I get visions and I can see into the future,” she said, her lips trembling with each word.

“Wait. So, like a psychic?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I have always kept it to myself, but it seems I have had this gift since my pregnancy. I‘ve said nothing about this to anyone.”

“But darling. You are an atheist who prides herself on trusting logic and facts over everything else. I thought we both were like that. Do you really believe that you can see the future?”

“You don’t have to believe me just yet. I didn’t believe myself either. I just know that I have this gift now. I have these visions of looking at certain people and places, and they come true. They always come true. I have tried keeping this to myself, but after what I saw today, I had to let you know. Your mother will die tomorrow.”

“WHAT? WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?”

“Yes. Just go over there now. Don’t ask questions.”

My mother lived with her sisters upstate. It was a four-hour drive away. I hoped Lily was wrong, but I didn’t want to take the risk.

I went out. To this day, I cannot explain what happened next: but it certainly made me believe that my wife was psychic. When I was an hour away from her place, I received a call from my mother’s sister telling me that my mother had slipped and fallen in the bathroom. She died from the concussion.

Lily was right. This was not a coincidence.

Over the next few weeks, Lily got visions of minor things- like what would I get to see at work, who would visit us during the weekend, what Christmas presents I had bought and kept hidden away from her - and she was right every time.

We learned to live with it, slowly unless the visions were tragic like someone close getting fired or dying.

I didn’t believe in these things throughout my life- but it was hard being a non-believer when you’re seeing these events happen with your own eyes in your own life.

I asked her why she didn’t tell me about her gift earlier, but she said that she had no idea about it. It was only when she was pregnant that she started getting these visions.

I still loved Lily, and I always would. That will never change. If she said that the sky was red: it was red. If it wasn’t, I’d paint it red.

Things were alright for a while, and I’d like to believe that this was the time in our lives, that we were truly happy. I loved Lily and my beautiful little daughter, Dorothy. Lily loved Dorothy and spent most of her time playing with her. They were both so adorable; it filled my heart with happiness every single day.

We were happy, in love, and raising a beautiful child. Her having a psychic gift was just a bonus at that point.

However, not all love stories have a happy ending. Ours, unfortunately, wasn’t an exception.

Last year, Dorothy died because of a heart condition that couldn’t be remedied. Lily was devastated and so was I. It was the toughest and darkest time of our lives, and I knew that I had to be strong for her. I was her only shoulder to cry on. But most of the time, I broke down alone in rooms of silence, when I was sure she wasn’t nearby. I couldn’t ever get over that and I knew Lily couldn’t either. She spent her nights crying and clutching on to me. She spent her mornings waking up and crying. On most days, I tried to calm her down but on the few days when my heart couldn’t handle the unbearable pain of our loss; we held each other and cried.

Our perfect life was over. Weeks went by like this. Lily ate less and stopped going out of the house altogether.

I couldn’t bear to see her heartache, but there was nothing I could do. I was sure that something inside Lily had shattered, and she wasn’t the same person ever since. She didn’t talk during the day and during the nights: she cried. She stared at Dorothy’s crib and broke down crying, every time she looked at it.

I tried my best to be there for her. I still loved her more than anything else, and seeing her in such misery reminded me of the blissful times in our lives that we both had taken for granted.

It also seemed that her gift of getting visions went away with the passing of our daughter. She used to stare at walls and ceilings hoping for visions, and whenever she got one (or claimed to get one), she told me about them and it didn’t come true.  Her gift had gone, and she had become a soulless, depressed version of the woman I had once known. It was perhaps Dorothy has something to do with it, since she started getting these visions when Dorothy came in this world and lost it with her passing. I’m sure she realized this as well but wasn’t ready to accept it.

A few weeks later, she told me that she saw, in a vision, that our neighbor’s dog had died. Like all her visions since Dorothy had died, I thought this one would not come true.

However, things were different the next morning. For the first time since Dorothy passed away, I saw Lily smile.

“The neighbor’s dog. It died!” she said. “My gift is back! Do you understand what this means?”

“Err no Lily,” I said, still trying to process everything.

“It means I can see the future again!” she said and hugged me.

I held her tightly and hugged her. For the first time since Dorothy passed away, she wasn’t crying as soon as she woke up. Rather, she was happy.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” she asked.

“I do,” I said and kissed her. She kissed me back with eyes wide open, and I realized then, that something was still wrong with her.

However, I still loved her and I always would. Losing your own daughter and recovering from the shock isn’t going to be a pleasant experience, but I sincerely hoped she hadn’t gone crazy.

The next few days went by normally. Lily was less upset. Getting her gift back seemed to bring a new ray of hope in her life.

She told me that in one of her visions she saw that her abusive brother would die within a week. Her brother was an abusive leech to both her parents, and it was obvious that Lily wanted him to die.

“Are you sure this is a vision and not just your fantasy?“ I said, expecting her to laugh at the joke.

“No. He’ll die,” she said, in a straight voice.

Her brother died, and the police are still investigating his murder. Someone had stabbed him in his throat and left him to die in his car.

When the police came over to our place for questioning, Lily gave me a look I’ll never forget. While the police weren’t looking, she looked at me and smiled from ear to ear.

She never liked her brother, but even after hearing the news about his death: she wasn’t affected.

The police went away, but they’re still investigating this. I just hope to God they don’t come by knocking again.

I think Lily is getting happier though. She talks to me more frequently and doesn’t cry anymore.

Last week, Lily told me that she saw Mr. Hudson or “Bad mouth Billy” as he was known in the neighborhood would die. Sure enough, he died the next day with a knife stuck in his spine. I saw Lily happy again when she got to know. Never did I expect the love of my life to be happy hearing about people dying.

It seemed that, now, she expected this, and this was the only thing that mattered to her. The fact that these people whom she knew, who lived barely a block away, were brutally murdered: didn’t seem to bother her. It was as if, now, she knew that they were dead, as soon as she told me of her vision.

It might seem weird that most of my wife’s predictions about people dying were being fulfilled by them being murdered. It’s also a weird coincidence that these people were people she wasn’t fond of. Rather, she strongly disliked them.

So, I know what you’re thinking. It’s her. She’s killing these people to fulfill her visions because, after Dorothy’s death, she has gone crazy.

But I’ve always loved my wife. I know that whatever Lily is, she is not a killer, and she isn’t capable of doing this.

I know she’s not a killer.

I know she’s not.

Because I am.

Poisoning a dog and stabbing two men in the dark were easy, and I’d do it all over again for her. I’ll keep fulfilling all her visions if that’s what it takes to see a smile on her gorgeous face.

As I said, I’d do anything for her.

If she said that you were going to die, you would die.

I’ll make sure you do.

If she said that the sky was red: it was red. If it wasn’t, I’ll paint it red.

With your blood.

_____________

If you liked that, you'll love reading my books.

CLICK HERE to buy the first book, SCARE SCARE: An anthology of thirteen terrifying short tales.

CLICK HERE to buy SCARE SCARE 2:  Thirteen terrifying short stories about ghosts, demons, monsters, time travelers and ALIENS! (Currently enrolled in Kindle Unlimited)

#horror #horrorstory #love #lovestory #scary #psychic #husband #wife #indie #books

[emospritelet]

KoL: what if during a feverish wandering, Belle ends up asleep in Gold's bed. So Gold comes home, and Belle is in his bed...

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13]

AO3 link

Gold had been quiet and reserved all that evening, staying out of her way except to bring her tea and iced water to slake her thirst.  He brought her onion soup for dinner: glistening translucent slices of onion and garlic in a rich beef broth with thyme.  It was comforting and delicious, and Belle was surprised to find that she emptied the bowl.  After checking her fever and frowning to himself, he gave her something to take it down, cool fingers feeling her throat to check for swelling.  He was a little more talkative when he went into Doctor mode, she found, treating her with the same firm, but kind detachment that he showed all his patients.  She thought that he probably wanted her out of his house so he could relax, but he was far too polite to say so.

She was still very ill, and fell asleep easily, so she wasn’t surprised that the next time she woke, it was morning.  Gold had opened the door, a cup of tea in his hand and a tiny smile on his face.  He set down the cup on the nightstand, reaching out to feel her forehead.  His mouth set in a grim line.

“I think you’ll feel a little worse before you feel better,” he said.  “Make sure you get plenty of rest today, and drink plenty of water.  I’ll bring you some before I go out.”

“You’re going to work?” she said, disappointed, and he nodded.

“If Whale doesn’t take a day off soon, he’ll end up like you,” he said.  “I’ll see you tonight, though.  Get some sleep, and perhaps your fever will break.”

He smiled at her then, and she watched him go, clad in his perfect suit with his perfect hair and his eyes that were just a little too sad.  She realised that she didn’t know enough about him.  Had he always lived alone?  Did he have a dark and terrible past, a cheating ex who had broken his heart beyond repair, perhaps?  Was that why he never dated, why he had never married?  She snuggled down in the blankets, tugging them up under her chin with a sigh. Maybe he doesn’t like people that way.  Maybe he’s completely happy living his single, celibate life, and I’ve just barged in here invading his house and whipping off my shirt and bursting in on him naked like a big freak!

Belle cringed at the thought of it, of how her actions might have been viewed from his perspective.  Really, she was a walking disaster.  The man had the patience of a saint.  The sooner she was well enough to get up and go home, the better.

x

She slept for much of the day, getting up only to use the bathroom.  Her legs felt as though they were made of jelly, threatening to pitch her onto the floor at any moment, and as the afternoon drew on she grew more feverish, teeth chattering even as her skin felt like fire.  She decided to take a bath in the hope that it would make her feel better, and there was some relief in sinking down into the hot water, filled with herbal-scented bubbles.  Thinking of Dr Gold taking a bubble bath was equal parts amusing and intriguing, and she tried to build up a mental image of how that would go, which was certainly easier now that she knew what he was hiding beneath his suit.  Her mind then took a detour as she wondered what else he might do in the bath, and she had to yank it back before it could prove too distracting.

Telling herself firmly to stop treating the poor man like a sex object, she splashed water on her face and shoulders to wash off stray bubbles.  Getting out was difficult; she had no strength in her limbs and despite the heat of the water, was shivering so much she could barely get the towel around herself. She stumbled from the bathroom, barging through the door opposite and crawling into the bed with a sigh of relief.  The blankets were heavy and warm, and she drew up her knees, closing her eyes, the pillow cool against her burning cheek.

x

Dr Gold had found the day easier, his illness having improved, and so he worked longer than he had intended.  It turned out to have been a mistake; he was exhausted by the time he took off his scrubs, and not for the first time he gave himself a lecture on not taking his own advice and resting.  The hospital had been so busy he had barely noticed fatigue creeping up on him, and it wasn’t until he stopped that he realised how tired he was.  Thankfully Dorothy wasn’t there to call him an idiot. But there again if she had been she would have told him to go home hours ago. Not that he would have listened.

He walked out to the Cadillac, his limp more pronounced, his gait slower than usual.  It was still bitterly cold, the wind trying to get through his coat, snow and ice still making the parking lot treacherous, but he managed to get to his car without falling on his arse, so that was something.  It started to snow again when he was on the road, but the snowfall was light.  He doubted they would be snowed in again.

The house was silent when he let himself in, and he wondered if Belle was sleeping.  Sneaking upstairs as quietly as he could, he gently tapped on her door before opening it and putting his head around.  He was surprised to find her bed empty, and backed out with a frown.  The bathroom door was ajar, and so he peeked inside, spying the pyjamas he had lent her discarded on the floor, but no Belle.  The air was humid, scented with the herbal bubble bath he sometimes used, and he presumed she had taken a bath.  So where was she?  Concern was starting to needle him, and he backed out of the bathroom, ears pricking up as he heard a soft noise from the room behind.  His bedroom.  Curious, he pushed open the door, eyes widening as he took in the sight before him.

The lamps were off, but the landing light cast a sharp-edged swathe of warm gold into the room.  It fell across the bed, the shadows beyond seeming darker.  Belle was asleep in his bed, lying curled on her front with her arms around a pillow, dark curls spread out around her head.  Her arms and shoulders and her upper back were bare above the blankets, and he realised with a sharp intake of breath that she was naked.  In his bed.

He knew he should move, should back out of the room and pretend he hadn’t seen her, but his feet seemed glued in place.  Belle’s cheeks were flushed, her lips parted as she breathed, and all at once she sighed restlessly and turned, rolling onto her back.  Gold swallowed hard.  Her breasts were exposed, beautiful creamy curves tipped with pale pink nipples, and he tried to wet his lips with the tip of his tongue, his mouth suddenly dry.  He knew without a doubt that they would fit perfectly in the palms of his hands, that the nipples would harden at the pull of his lips, the sweep of his tongue.  He wondered if her skin was as soft as it looked, and for a moment imagined how it might feel to draw his tongue down her body, to pull aside the blankets and kiss down between her legs.  To taste her pleasure and hear her moans of bliss.

His cock twitched in his pants, making him blink rapidly, and he took a step back, cutting off the view of her a little.  His heart was thumping, and he ran a hand through his hair in agitation.  She’s sick.  She must have stumbled into the wrong room after her bath, and fallen asleep.  She’s sick and she needs your help, and all you can do is stand there ogling her like a fucking pervert!

He backed out further, pulling the door closed behind him, and made his way to the stairs, telling himself firmly to make some dinner and stop thinking about what he had just seen.  She was sick, and she was a guest in his house.  She was a colleague, new to her post and in need of support and guidance.  And she was half his age, beautiful and far too good for the likes of him.  But for a moment he had looked on her, and wondered how it might feel to come home to her in his bed.  For a moment he had wanted to peel off his suit and climb in beside her and take her in his arms.

#hey nonny nonny #fic: kiss of life #rumbelle fic #my fic #rumbelle #dr gold x candy striper belle

[sandstonesunspear]

Pets

Director Sanvers, Lucy-centric

Found a prompt chart for Pride Month and figured I’d try my hand at it. I’m a day behind because life. Parings are random, but the fandom should stay Supergirl.

Thanks to @nerdsbianhokie for letting me borrow Ripley.

AO3

-

Growing up as the daughter of a career military man, Lucy never had pets. No dog, no cat, not even a fish or a hamster. Sure, other military families had them, but not the Lanes.

There’s no space in this house for one, Sam Lane would say.

We have the space, Lucy would think, but hold her tongue. Sam Lane didn’t welcome backtalk.

They’re a waste of resources and time.

Are you talking about a dog, or your kids? Lois snarked exactly once, following the death of their mother. Lucy could only watch with horror as the row that had erupted between her sister and father ended with a harsh slap to Lois’s face. It signaled the beginning of her estrangement from the both of them.

They’re nothing more than a distraction.

And we can’t afford distractions, Lucy would finish, careful to hide her bitterness from him.

Once she was out of Sam Lane’s house and establishing a name for herself, Lucy entertained the idea of getting a dog. As the years dragged on, though, the practicality of it died out. She wasn’t a career military person like her father, but ten years of postings in various countries, three tours in Afghanistan, and her work with the DEO meant that home was less a place to live and more a place to sleep.

Then Alex Danvers and Maggie Sawyer entered her life. It was easy to admit that she was attracted to the both of them, but she was incredibly wary of starting anything with them after her failed relationship with James. They were understanding though, more than happy to let Lucy go at her own pace. The three of them almost became something after Alex’s kidnapping, but before they could, Lucy found herself whisked away by the president and placed on a special assignment to infiltrate Cadmus.

It didn’t go well. Unbeknownst to her, Maxwell Lord had discovered the operation. He leaked information about her assignment to Lillian Luthor in exchange for Cadmus’s technology, resulting in Lucy’s capture the minute she entered Cadmus’s main base. Cadmus spent the next six months torturing her before ultimately shoving a control chip into her skull. They quietly released her, forcing her to live as an unwilling double agent. She fought it as best she could, but in the end, she could only watch as used her as a puppet to undermine Kara and the DEO. The DEO caught on and imprisoned her. Lucy looked on from her cell as J’onn and the others debated what to do.

To no one’s surprise Alex was the one who figured out how to block the control chip and remove it without killing Lucy. She placed Lucy into a medically induced coma for nearly three weeks while she worked to excise the chip. She was successful, but the treatment had an unfortunate side effect. As one final countermeasure against removal, the chip forced Lucy to relive everything she had been forced to do while under Cadmus’s control, magnifying her feelings of guilt and helplessness. She awoke three weeks later, free but numb.

At first, Lucy denied anything was wrong. Her answers during her mandated therapy sessions were terse and short. Upon finding out that it was Lord that had led to her capture, Lucy’s mood soured even further. I’m tired and angry and want nothing more than to shove a boot knife into Max Lord’s skull, she growled out in one session. Henderson had nodded approvingly at the progress, only to frown at Lucy’s declaration that, aside from that, she was just peachy.

It took 14 sessions for her to admit that everything wasn’t okay. An exhausted Lucy stumbled into Henderson’s office and admitted that she wasn’t sleeping, even after moving in with Alex and Maggie. The nightmares were still too much. On more than one occasion, she would dream of her hands closing around their throats and choking the life from the both of them, only to wake up just as the light left their eyes. She would awaken with a scream dying in her throat, frantically checking either side of her to make sure that they were okay before trying to get back to sleep. It never worked.

At least, it hadn’t until several nights previous. She told Henderson that the past few nights, Alex’s service dog had woken her up before the dreams could get too rough. Much to Maggie and Alex’s amusement, Gertrude would settle on top of Lucy before bed and refused to move.

Does it help?

The question made Lucy pause and think. Then, she nodded. The pressure that Gertrude provided was grounding. She knew, somehow, when to wake Lucy up before things could progress too far. Lucy still wasn’t sleeping great, and she was exhausted beyond belief, but Gertrude’s help proved invaluable.

Henderson nodded. She scribbled a few notes down in Lucy’s chart and leaned back. Well, Director Lane, do you want the good news or bad news first?

Bad news. Rip off the bandaid and get it over with.

You have PTSD. No pity or fanfare about it, just a statement of fact. She knew that Lucy probably knew, but verbal confirmation was always the best.

And the good news?

You remember Moira Amari? Lucy nodded. Moira had been an agent with the DEO until a fight with a Fort Rozz prisoner had left her a double amputee. She trains service dogs. I’ll be making an appointment for you to speak with her.  

-

It was how Lucy found herself standing outside of Moira’s house three days later. Alex and Maggie were by her side. Gertrude was off to the side, sniffing around. The door opened. Moira stepped out.

“Director Lane?” Lucy nodded. “C’mon in.”

The three of them entered the house with Gertrude taking up the rear. The borzoi stayed a few paces behind the humans as she took in the interior.

“Jacqueline’s timing was perfect, Dorothy just had a litter, so there’s going to be plenty of pups around,” she informed Lucy as they walked. “There’s also a few old timers, dogs that are trained but whose original assignments didn’t work out or whose people either passed before they could go into service.”

“How does this work?” Lucy asked. “Do I just pick a dog?”

Moira shook her head. “Nope, the dog picks you.”

Lucy couldn’t help herself. “Like in Harry Potter?” She felt her face heat up as soon as the words left her mouth.

To her relief, Moira wasn’t offended. She laughed. “Exactly like that.” A thoughtful look crossed her face. “I should use that.”

They all stopped just outside of large, open room that was gated off. They could all hear the sounds of eager puppies. Moira moved the gate and led them in. Once inside, she replaced the gate before pointing to a couch.

“Alright, go sit over there, Director Lane,” she ordered. “I’ll go get everyone.”

Lucy settled in on the couch. Maggie and Alex sat next to her. Gertrude settled in front of Alex and closed her eyes.. Lucy leaned to the side and placed her head on Alex’s shoulder while intertwining her right hand with Maggie’s. Alex ran her fingers through Lucy’s hair.

“It’ll be fine, Luce,” Alex reassured it. “It’s really simple.”

“You version of simple and my version of simple are two very different things, Alex,” she drawled.

Maggie snickered as Alex huffed. Before she could say anything, loud yaps caught their attention. Soon, a flood of puppies was on its way.

The first dog that caught Lucy’s attention was like a hamster on crack. It barrelled towards Lucy at full speed before tripping over its own legs. It tumbled, rolled for a few feet, then immediately jumped back up, barking all the while. Lucy unconsciously shook her head. Moira seemed to agree. She picked the dog up before it could get any further.

“Sorry buddy, you’re not right for her,” she told it before turning it around. Once on the ground, it ran back to Dorothy.

The second dog made it further than its sibling had, only to stop short at the sight of Gertrude. The borzoi cracked an eye open, sat up, and blinked at the newcomer. The puppy barked exactly once before running back to Moira. Lucy had to fight back a laugh at just how offended Gertrude looked.

“Alright, maybe next time, kiddo,” Moira said, moving the dog back in Dorothy’s direction.

It went on for a while. Every so often, Moira would shake her head and intercept a pup before it could even approach Lucy. Lucy grew more and more discouraged as dog after dog was weeded out. Then, a black scruffy mop appeared. She was immediately intrigued. Unlike the others, this dog was calm as it made its way to Lucy. It stopped in front of Gertrude and booped noses with her. Then, it sat in front of Lucy and waited.

Lucy reached down and picked it up. It placed its paws on her shoulders and licked her face. Lucy couldn’t help it. She laughed.

Moira nodded approvingly as she walked up to the triad. “That’s Ripley,” she said. “Terrier/schnauzer mix, ‘bout a year and a half old.”

Lucy ran her fingers through Ripley’s fur. Ripley settled down in Lucy’s lap. “She’s perfect.”

“Yeah, she is,” Moira agreed. “She’s one of the calmest ones here, surprisingly enough. Gets along with everyone and rarely barks.” She tilted her head. “To be honest, I’m surprised she even came out with the others today.”

Lucy gave her a curious look. “What do you mean?”

“Ripley here was actually trained as a PTSD service dog, but the guy that was supposed to take her died about six months ago. Car crash.” She gave a sad smile. “Rip’s been pretty depressed since he died. I’ve been trying to find a new match for her ever since, but it’s been hard because she usually just stays in the back.”

Lucy nodded understandingly. “Well, what do you say, Ripley? Think you can help me out?” she asked.

Ripley barked. Lucy smiled. She looked at Moira. “She’s the one.”

-

Three weeks later

Lucy woke to a cold nose nudging her face and pressure on her chest. She lifted her head and blinked blearily to see Ripley on top of her. Seeing Lucy awake, Ripley glanced left and right, then licked her face before settling back down. Lucy smiled. It was Ripley’s way of letting her know that Alex and Maggie were next to her, safe. She let her head thump back softly against the pillow. She reached up and ran her hand across Ripley’s wiry fur. The touch made Ripley’s tail go haywire.

There’s no space in this house for one, her father had said.

Yes there is, Dad. There were two doggy beds, food bowls, and a wide assortment of dog toys that proved it.

They’re a waste of resources and time, he had said.

No they aren’t. Ripley was a means for keeping Lucy sane, just like Gertrude was vital for helping Alex manage her migraines.

They’re nothing more than a distraction.

We can afford some distraction. Without distraction, she would have eaten her gun out of guilt by now thanks to him.

Lucy closed her eyes. Next to her, Maggie snored quietly while Alex was cuddled against Lucy’s right. She smiled and let herself fall back to sleep. The nightmares didn’t return.

#director sanvers #my writing #fic #lucy lane #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #supergirl

[mikesmokelotsa]

I get overwhelmed

And I do things I shouldn���t

or, more like I don’t. I don’t do the things I should.

I don’t call. 

I don’t text. 

I don’t engage.

I try to hide away and pretend like the people I care about exist in a vacuum, because it’s easier.

It’s easier to pretend they’re fine and not really existing, because, in some way, I’ve always done that. It’s what my life has always felt like, a revolving door of people entering and exiting and my faith in their existence being tested whenever they leave my sight. 

Because it hurts me to think I can’t help them all. To think and truly understand all the pain, all the hurting, all the stories and heartache, and connecting with people is understanding that heartache, and recognizing their individuality, humanity, and personal resilience. 

It overwhelms me. It overwhelmed me for years, and it still does. I’m trying to fight it, I try to keep in touch with people. I’m trying to do it all right and make sure everyone I love in my life knows it. I’m also trying to tell myself to let things go. To accept that I can’t really help anyone as much as I want to. That just being there is enough, but I’ve always felt like I’m just being here. I’ve always felt I’m just waiting, being, and waiting. It’s a feeling I’ve felt ever since I could first remember, and it’s literally never left me.

I get overwhelmed. My sister recently told me that she gets sick whenever I call or text because I only reach out when it’s bad news. I know that exact feeling so well, it sank in my stomach like a ball of lead.

2 months ago, at the beginning of May, I noticed at the movie theater I had developed a small lump on my waist/thigh that hurt. Being a fat guy, I’m used to my fair share of lumps, pimples and what have you, so I chalked it up to a cyst I’d wash and treat with some cream or something the next morning. 

I woke up 30 hours later, in so much pain, I couldn’t walk to the bathroom 5 feet away. I was so sick, I was convinced I had actually gotten a fever from seeing the movie and decided to “sleep it off” more. It was on the second day that I realized something was drastically wrong, as I couldn’t move, let alone walk anymore, without agonizing, blinding pain shooting up and through my hips and into my stomach. There was a new fleshy bulge that had developed, and at this point, I had no idea if I had herniated something, or what.

Foolishly, I waited longer, deciding to “ride it out”, until the next day, when things got even worse and even more painful, that I had to be taken to the ER. The next few hours get hazy for me, because the abscess I had ignored in my foolishness, had become septic, and entered my bloodstream. At the time, I didn’t know this, but what I did know, was that my mental faculties were diminishing rapidly. 

As I entered the ER, I had to be wheeled in because I physically could not walk in due to the pain, and as I felt myself lose my lucidity, I could feel my ability to speak, articulate, collate thoughts, and even write become affected. The sepsis was reaching my brain and affecting my literal mental capacity, and every single moment spent waiting in the ER, I could feel my mind going. I cannot describe to you the sheer panic and terror of knowing your own ability to express yourself, to think and to be sentient, is decaying. It is a mental death process, unlike any other pain or injury I’ve seen or even heard sustained. I could track my degradation as the hours passed in the waiting room because I had to sign multiple forms, and by the end of the ordeal of being admitted, I couldn’t speak a rational sentence, and by the very end,  I couldn’t even write my own name. I had to sign consent using my initials because I literally forgot how to write my own name. 

I remember crying onto the release form, because all I could think of was how my grandpa died, and how he had become too degraded by his illness to sign a paper that would have given us the house outright, instead of having it split up and ultimately sold off because we couldn’t afford to live in it.

I remembered seeing my dad trying to write a letter to my sister when he was fighting his illness. I remembered seeing him hold a pen, try to make it scratch on a piece of paper, and then I said the only thing that he could say at that time, in this moment when I too couldn’t make a scratch on a piece of paper. I said: “I can’t make the pen work.” I watched him cry, and told him I had to leave. I still hate that memory. 

And I couldn’t make the pen work. I remembered it and I cried. And they gave me drugs. And they kept me on 3 IVs simultaneously for 10 days in the hospital, coursing with powerful antibiotics to keep the infection from damaging major organs.

The entire visit is a haze of pain, and bloody messes, and abuse at the hands of the hospital staff. (I will never judge a screaming patient in a hospital ever again, you don’t know how the staff has treated them, you don’t know how long that person hasn’t been asleep, you don’t know how many times they’ve been poked and prodded, tested and gouged, or violently, painfully woken up and treated poorly and all without informed consent.)

I don’t know. I read some old facebook messages from when I told Dorothy I could no longer be friends with her. They were from her then-boyfriend at the time, and he was chastising me for “ganging” up on her and whatnot. As if I was somehow the abuser, rather than just one of her friends she mistreated and emotionally abused over and over. I don’t know. 

I almost died, and it didn’t fill me with joy at still being alive, or feel like every day from then on was a gift, or anything positive really. It just reminded me of how many regrets and stupid things I’d done, and how much I hadn’t accomplished, and how I’ll probably never be the person I wish I could, which is just content. I just want to be content with me, and who I am, but I honestly don’t think I ever will be, because...

I get overwhelmed.

 And I do things I shouldn’t.

Or more accurately, I don’t do the things I should.

I should have been better to all of you. I should have tried more. I want to promise I will in the future. But I hate breaking promises, and I’ve learned to just stop making them.

I’m so tired.

[october-lady]

The damned shoes

Red Queen Week 2017

Day 3: Tropes

AO3

(I felt bad that I only wrote two stories due to time issues so I decided to write more. I apologise if there are mistakes or it feels rushed, I literary wrote this in under an hour because it's late again and ugh, time issues are a real thing... ) 

Finally. She was finally holding them in her hands. The magical ruby slippers. How fitting was the name, she rolled her eyes.

It took her a long time to get a hold of them, items that let you travel through realms aren’t exactly easy to find these days. You have to bribe and pay people to even give you any sort of information as to where to find them, sometimes you have to fight, for someone else or for your life. But here she was, in the farthest corner of Oz, ready to put them on and click them three times.

She couldn’t wait to be with the woman she loved. She couldn’t wait to see her smile. She had no idea if her love felt the same way, they only just met before they lost each other again but she felt such desire and affection to Dorothy that she didn’t care. She had to try.

Ruby put the shoes on. How shiny they look. So red, like a heart, full of love.

Closing her eyes, she focused on the place she wanted to go.

Click.

The love of my life.

Click.

The love of my life.

Click.

The love of my life.

She felt wind swirling strongly, catching her and moving her, it was as if she were still standing but she could tell things around her were moving. And then it all stopped. There was ground under her feet again.

“Ruby?”

A familiar voice told her she landed. Ruby frowned. That was not the voice she expected.

“Regina?” She opened her eyes surprised. “What am I doing here?” She looked around, being all confused when she recognised Regina’s living room.

“You are asking me that? You tell me, dear, you are the one who appeared in my living room. Well, we are in Underworld but technically it’s still my house.”

“Oh so that’s why everything is orange, I thought my eyes have gone bad during the traveling.”

“Funny, as always,” Regina rolled her eyes and sat down on the couch. “So, care to tell me where you were supposed to go when it was not here?” She took a sip of the wine she had put on the table.

Ruby took it as a sign and sat down as well. Then she turned serious and her face went pale. Or as pale as it could go in this world.

“Regina, are you... dead?” Her voice was shaky, her heart was pacing and the thought hurt so much.

The older woman started to laugh.

“Regina! What the hell!”

“Sorry, dear, I suppose that’s a logical question. No, Ruby,” it was like velvet when she said her name, “I’m not dead, even tho I’d rather be right now. We are all here because Emma decided to bring her dead pirate back and we couldn’t let the idiot go alone.”

“Oh thank god! You got me so worried!” The relief was visible on Ruby’s face, she finally relaxed into the chair.

“Oh please, don’t pretend like you still care. It’s all history now.” Regina took a long sip of her wine, mostly just to cover her face with the glass.

“Regina…” Ruby’s voice was silent, firm, yet there was a hint of hurt, “I do care about you, I always have and always will, no matter where I am. You changed my life, you saved me from myself and you taught me to love myself the way I am. The many parts of myself I used to hate. We helped each other through difficult times and I like to think it was more than just that.” She felt silent. She didn’t understand why it all made her so upset, Regina belittening what had been between them and accusing her of not caring for the older woman anymore.

She could never forget the long nights filled with tears, fear and self hatred. The nights when Regina found her in woods, sometimes still in her wolf form, sometimes naked after she turned back. She had no control and no idea how to deal with it, she felt like a monster, like an animal that kills. Yet every time she woke up from this trance, every time she ran away in any form, Regina was always there. She always found her, held her when she cried, healed her wounds she caused herself while fighting with other animals. She was there to lift her up when she had no will to live, she just held her and let her cry, or sleep in her arms, stroking her long dark hair.

She could never forget when they first kissed, Ruby all scared of what she was doing, this was not right, this was not what she was taught. But Regina made it feel so good, so okay, much better than she had ever felt with Peter, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

And so she learned to like herself, to love herself and to want to live. And when she was feeling better, she was there for Regina to battle her mother, to support her, to help her with magic. She sneaked into her chambers at night to hold her tight after Cora bullied Regina, after she hurt her over and over again.

Together they became stronger.

Maybe too strong in Regina’s case.

She became the evil queen. She embraced dark magic, something she resented her mother for.

They drifted apart.

They spoke in Storybrooke, they were friendly. Ruby secretly forgave her. But that was all.

“Let’s go back to our, well, your, problem. Where were you meant to land?” Regina changed the subject quickly.

“I… fell in love. I think…” Ruby mumbled.

“You think?” Regina raised her eyebrow, amused.

“It’s complicated.” She ignored her. “I think the damn shoes are broken because I was thinking about Dorothy so I don’t know what happened!”

“The shoes can’t just break. You must have done it wrong. What exactly were you thinking?”

“Does that matter now?” She wriggled in her chair, clearly not wanting to say it to Regina.

“If I am supposed to help you, then yes. Come on, dear, I’ve spent enough time with Snow and David to be surprised by anything so spill it,” she rolled her eyes.

“I was thinking The love of my life.”

Regina chewed on her lip. “And you landed here?”

“Well, yes?” Ruby was confused by Regina stating the obvious.

“You were thinking the words ‘The love of my life’ and you landed right in front of me?” Regina was just clarifying, not sure if for herself or Ruby.

“Yes, how many times - Oh God…” Ruby’s eyes went wide. “Oh God…” She got up from the chair.

“Indeed…” Regina just shook her head, almost equally surprised.

“Does that mean…?” Ruby trailed off.

“Yes.” The older woman responded as a matter of fact.

“But that means that Dorothy…”

“Yes.”

“But that means that you…” Ruby was clearly doing her math trying to figure it out.

This time Regina didn’t answer. She blushed a bit, trying to hide behind the glass again.

“Regina, say something, please…” Ruby quickly sat down next to her.

“What do you want me to say?” Regina didn’t know what to say. She was unsure. She wasn’t sure what it all meant, how to react. And she hated talking about feelings.

“Are we really meant to be?” Ruby whispered, fear in her voice, afraid and ready to be heart broken.

That did it for Regina, she could never handle seeing the younger woman in pain. She smiled at her. She gave her a soft smile with sparkling eyes. And then she leaned forward and connected their lips. It was an innocent kiss, lasting just few seconds but telling more than words ever could.

“I think so.”

#red queen week #red queen 2017 #red queen ouat #ruby lucas #regina mills #my fanfiction