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iphoenixrising · 4 years

Note

How do you think the boys will react to Dr Tim in fear gas (like full dose of it)??

Hi babe.

I’ve said it before, but ah. Be careful what you wish for, heh.

But no, really hasn’t poor Dr. Tim been through enough? Guy has already narrowly escaped collapsing bridges, been up close and personal with the Joker, fought off Scarecrow’s goons, AND was smack dab in the middle of an honest-to-God Arkham Riot.Now we’re going to just get him all up in some fear toxin? Good Lord, can the man get a break? He hasn’t had some smut in a while tbh. (winks over to chippon)

BUT.

WARNINGS FOR:

Mentions of child abuse

Mentions of gore, blood, grossness

You will be crying by the end. Guaranteed.

Extreme mental and emotional HURT

Tim’s fears are Jesus-Fucking-Christ level bad

You’ve been warned :D

He’s not even back to work yet after that ambulance wreck, still feels the road rash, pulled muscles, and residual owfuck from a little rough and tumble time at Arkham Asylum.

But, he’s in a convenience store for fuck’s sake because Jay wouldn’t let him have coffee this morning (nah, Sweets. Ya ain’t godda get up yet. Jus’ go back ta sleep wid’ me, yeah? We’re gonna stay here all warm n’ snug. Sshh. I gotcha, Timmy), and he’d managed to wrangle himself out of Jay’s arms when he woke up again, found out there’s only enough grounds for a shitty, weak pot, and Tim can’t even stand the thought of it.

Unfortunately, he gets a whole lot of random bad guys stopping in for those terrible hot dogs and road drinks on their way out of Gotham.

(Crane looks just as horrifying as he remembers from the hospital that one time, and Tim fervently hopes, hopes none of these henchmen recognize him in a beat-up hoodie and saggy sweatpants.)

What makes matters worse?

Crane isn’t even trying to be, you know, an evil villain.

There’s a put-upon sign behind the mask, and the fear gas comes out of nowhere, getting everyone in the store because the guy just doesn’t want to deal with civilians right this moment. He missed the break-out and decided to have a party all on his own, but he hasn’t even gotten the time to get the plan for his next evil scheme ready yet.

So he raises a hand and sprays a little gas to keep people from being lucid enough to call the cops and rat him out. He needs some time for a good getaway.

Tim, however, sees the inevitable coming and is frozen to the spot, can’t get his weak knees to unlock so he can at least try to duck. Instead, he gets it full in the face.

In a sweep, Crane sprays the small store as his henchmen drop a $20 in front of the coughing clerk and take off back out the door. Hotdogs and all.

Tim scrabbles for his phone, the noxious cloud makes his eyes water, his lungs fucking burn on the first choked, shocked breath. Even when he tries to hold his breath, he’s too terrified, knees going out just as he thumbs the screen behind his back.

“Timmy?” is tinny and far away while he tries to at least breath shallow, eyes dart to the door, his brain tuned into the whole get out and away before the inevitable happens.

He’s got to get to Jay, he’s got to get out of here and get to someone. If he starts talking while hepped up on fear gas, he could give away everyone’s secrets. He could tell random strangers who everyone really is, he could tell anyone their weaknesses, he could put everyone in danger.

Building blocks. If he can get to a lab, to Steph’s, back to his penthouse, anywhere not here, he can probably crack the building blocks of the toxin before it takes him over completely.

He doesn’t even hear, “Baby? Ya there? Didja butt dial again? Thought I tol’ ya ta stay in bed with me, yeah?”

Not with the door right there.

All he has to do is make his weak knees fucking work, ignore the burn in his lungs, his brain, his eyes teary with the cloud still thick around him, with the abrupt slam of his heart in his chest, with the sudden shadows in the niches that hadn’t been there before.

He just has to get to that fucking door. Has to be able to run.

Tim manages to mostly get there before the screaming starts.

Dick is working the day shift in the uniform when word Crane struck come over the wire.

Whenever it’s one of the big bads, he gets close enough to get the details before handily disappearing to slip into something a little more comfortable.

(He knows his ass is spectacular in the Nightwing suit.)

A boop from his pocket is his Batcomm notification, and he pops it in just as he dips into the men’s room with a plan to get out one of the usual windows.

“We’ve got Crane on the move, O. Might want to drop B a line.”

“Already aware, Boy Wonder. It’s more severe than you realize.” His phone goes off as Dick is shimmying out the window and up the building where he keeps a spare suit in a nice waterproof bag hidden in the overhang.

When he checks whatever oh shit is added to a potentially deadly scene, he’s got a text from Jay and a picture from O.

Surveillance footage from inside a convenience store where Crane evidently attacked some civilians. His breath catches when one of the faces turned away to try avoiding the gas is–

Timmy.

“Fuck,” is a little breathless with a very different kind of fear, and Dick immediately turns it up a notch, throwing his suit on and slapping a domino over his eyes. “What can you tell me, O?”

Quick check on what he’s got to work with.

“B and Rob are already in pursuit. Signal is approaching to assist. As far as we can tell, this is the only place Crane managed to hit. Everyone’s mostly been accounted for by GCPD.”

“I sense a but coming–” and he checks his phone two seconds before time to fly, and the text from Jay is something about Tim and screaming, and now he won’t pick up the phone...

“O?” Because dread strikes him in the chest.

“He’s the only civilian missing. He must have already taken off before the patrol car got there.”

“He was hit with fear gas, and he took off?”

The jumpline is already in his hand before he even hits the edge of the roof at a run. It’s go time.

So, it’s a race to find Tim, all doped up on fear toxin and probably tripping out of his mind in one of the most dangerous cities in America where people like the Joker and Two-Face might hold a grudge.

Jason was already suited up before he sent that text to Dickie, was outta there when the sounds came over the line, the familiar screams. It’s a particular flavor of terror spelled out that Timmy, was probably in trouble.

He hits up O with the deets while Nightwing hits the almost-night, making the first swing fucking count.

The world alters and shift around him, almost throwing him off his feet more than once.

He’s already completely lost his sense of direction, trying to keep his eyes closed in a last ditch effort to keep the hallucinations at bay.

(It’s just chemicals fucking with your brain. You can beat this. It’s not real. None of it is real. You know that. You know it’s just–

Brick under his fingertips, abrading the sensitive skin. Stumbles over a curb, and the loud whonkkkkk almost rips a surprised yip out of him. Tim cracks his eyes open, heart picking up when the yellow lights look like the porch light from the Johnson’s house–

– before they brought him back.

“He’s…a special child. He needs more than we can give him–”

“He can’t get along with the other children, so I’m afraid–”

“Well, you see. Mary is pregnant! It’s-it’s a miracle, and we like Tim, really we do–“

Tim grits his teeth, hears so much wahwahwah than anyone really talking, telling him to get the hell out of the street, what is he thinking?

But instead of a shadow of a motorist that had pretty much almost run him over, all he can see is Detective Gordon, way back when he’d been the one to come to the Drake’s manor and give him the news.

His mom and dad weren’t coming back, not ever.

“N-No,” he whimper screams, slamming his eyes closed, and takes off again. It’s a full tilt run, every person he meets with someone else’s face.

Michael McCannon, the guy that beat the shit out of his foster kids.

Lilly Wright, wanted the income from having a foster in her house, didn’t care if he went to school, if he slept, if he ate, if he was dead in a gutter because he fell off a roof running after–

He smacks his palms into brick, scraping his face, turns and there’s Tony Stark back when he’d first met. Intimidating and imposing, eyes narrowed in distaste.

He runs faster, only half recognizes the buildings as he goes. He knocks into someone, eats face in an alley, panting and sweating, eyes full of tears, brain on fucking fire.

“Drake!” Hissed from the shadows, the darkness parting for red, gold, and green.

But it’s too much red, too much red.

“N-no, nonono,” and now he’s outright sobbing, scrabbling to his feet because Dami, Dami, is in a ragged, torn tunic, skin broken and blood fucking pouring out of him.

He’s got both hands on the vigilante, brain failing him, spitting out the mortality rate of being run the fuck through.

“No, no, no Dami, Dami,” he’s pressing on the worst wound, tears streaming down his face, babbling incoherently, apologizing, begging this kid, the little brother he should have had, not to fucking die and leave him too.

Robin, laying where the doctor had apparently thrown him, is staring up in shock, hands on Drake’s forearms where he’s pressing at some imaginary wound.

“Don’t die, Dami. Stay with me! Please stay with me!” Is fairly screamed in the cold night.

And Robin catches his breath at this, this, as one of Drake’s worst fears.

“D-Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you. I-I can’t lose you, too.” Tim weeps, pulling both hands back, staring down at what must see as blood and viscera.

“I am sorry, Timothy,” Robin breathes out hoarsely, frees a hand to pull back, teeth clenched against what he’s about to do, and punches their doctor with real intent.

As he hopes, Tim goes down like a stone, unconscious on the dirty ground, tears still on his face from terror and grief.

In a breath, Robin is on his feet, kneeling over Drake, tapping the comm in his ear. “Hood, N, Father. I have located him. He has been…affected. I am uncertain if the anti-toxin in my belt would do further harm, so I have not administered it as of yet.”

“Rob,” Hood’s response is immediate, “Big Wing’s with Daddy Bat takin’ care a’ the last of ‘em. I’m headin’ atcha now.”

“Meet me at the Black Bird. Hurry,” Robin cuts off, and gently, oh so gently for his normal, lifts Tim’s upper body against his chest, points a gauntlet at the roof to fire the jump line, reel them both in.

At sixteen, the youngest vigilante has nearly outgrown the doctor, and has no trouble lifting Tim up to carry him across the roof, occasionally looking down to make sure Tim is still out.

His own vehicle, the Black Bird, is hidden close to a safe house for the Bats. Balancing Tim in his arms, he taps his utility belt, the container hiding the car folding away.

Hood is on the ground, immediately takes Timmy from Rob, looking at the scrapes on his face.

“In, in!” Robin snaps, shooing Hood in the back with their Doctor. “We must get him to the Cave immediately.”

He dives in the driver’s seat, revving the engine fast, tapping his mask for the whiteouts to slide up. He takes in the immediate area with a glance, and peels out into the night.

Jay deactivates the helmet, tosses it in the front seat, wraps both arms around Timmy in his lap, tapping the comm to listen up at Dickie and B on clean-up whiles he winds up to get all the deets outta the Demon.

“Tell it ta me straight, Lil’ D. How bad wassit?”

He’s looking in the rearview because the kid’s eyes always give him away.

He ain’t prepared to see the Demon blinking rapidly, jaw clenched tight. “He is fully effected. Hallucinations, inability to discern outside voices. I called to him. He was not able to hear me. See me, yes, but he believed I was…dying. He attempted to treat me, asked me not to…”

Robin makes a hard right turn, shoves his foot against the pedal to drift it. He shoves in the clutch, shifts the gears, biting down on his lower lip (“Don’t leave me, I can’t lose you.”).

He evens out, hitting the Robert Kane Bridge to take them out of Gotham proper and closer to the Manor.

“Dames?” Jay makes it soft because the kid is obviously shook.

Robin pushes the car to 105 mph to sail over the bridge.

“His fear was he would be unable to save me. The wound…he believed the wound made by Hush would kill me yet again, I believe.”

Jason Todd breathes in sharply, freeing up a hand to fit at the back of Rob’s neck, make circles with his thumb.

“Sorry that mighta brought ya back.” His tone is low with sympathy, empathy.

And for a moment, Damian Wayne, not Robin, leans back into that hand, lets it ground him while the night flies by the window, while he watches the darkness for everything while he downshifts, when the road starts getting less defined further out of the city they go.

“It is not that,” Damian admits, “one day, one of us, perhaps all of us, will not return. Nothing he can do will prevent that.”

“I know, Baby Bat. Let’s hope it ain’t any day soon, you feel me?” And Jay, tries to keep it gentle, tries to keep the circles going, tries to be easy about it so Baby Bat won’t try ta pull away, put it all back inna box to fester.

“Agreed. However, do not be surprised if he comes to fighting. We must monitor his vitals closely if this toxin is similar to the last batch.”

“I gotcha. S’all right, we’re gonna take care of him, ain’t we?”

Damian makes an affirmative noise and leans forward out of Jay’s grip, pressing the gas, then gearing back up.

Tim comes to as the restraints are tightened, Alfred Pennyworth securing several sticky discs to his chest, and a pulse oximeter to his finger.

“We’ll see you soon, Son. Be a good boy while we’re gone.”

Makes his eye fly open wide, his heart slam painfully against his rib cage, his arms jerk where his wrists are restrained.

“Boys,” a cultured voice calls the second his eyes open, but Tim can’t see anything, not with his heart in his throat, not with his Dad’s voice ghosting out after over a decade and a half.

When he glances over, horrified at the tall figure coming closer, hands raised up in surrender, and his eyes were empty, gorey sockets, black sludge from the empty cavity. Purple lips and half-rotting flesh, the last clothes he’d seen his father wearing, his best suit, the one he’d wear to Drake Industries on the stints they were home and Dad worked in the office.

Tatters and grave dirt, bone peeking out from shriveled flesh…

“Dad,” is a broken, hoarse croak, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I tried. I tried to be good,” and the closer his dead, decaying Father gets, the more he fights whatever is keeping him still, won’t let him run for his own fucking sanity, “I tried! I tried and you still didn’t come home! It wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t–!”

He chokes, gags because Dad is right by the bedside, and now Tim can see the inside of his black mouth, the tongue putrid and pale without blood, and the smell–

He’s probably screaming, even if he can’t hear himself.

Something is strapped over his face, and he fights it, knows it’s a plastic mask, pumping something into his lungs, just like the fear toxin.

A turn of the head, and it’s the reversal of his first meeting with-with

The Joker.

Harley isn’t on the table bleeding out this time. It’s the two of them standing over him, a huge needle full of green sludge right by the Joker’s shoulder, right next to his horrifically sick smile.

He’s wearing a mock head lamp and white coat, Tim’s own badge dangling from his pocket. He turns to the smaller figure of Harley, the nurse sidekick with a frightening set of tools. The orbitoclast is brown with old blood and brain matter, the leucotome wire is rusty, the plunger to send that wire into his brain almost black with old gore.

And he fucking chokes.

“Hold on to those, Nurse. If my wonderful formula doesn’t do the trick, then we’ll have options! Huh, huh, huh,” and the bastard leans into him, that sickening smile, those wide, lucid eyes.

“He’s going to be our good boy, one way or the other, isn’t he?” And the dark growl of it, the promise is what makes him start screaming again.

Hands on his straining arms, a big body right by the bed when he turns, flinches away as far as the hold could let him.

“Oh no. No no no,” is a whimper, a plea, “I didn’t say anything to anyone, Mr. Johnson, I swear. I didn’t tell anyone anything.”

The grip on his arms becomes bruising, painful, terrifying all over again.

Tim clamps down, remembers the beatings hadn’t been as bad if he could keep quiet.

“Jesus Christ, you’re such a little shit.”

It’s Mr. Johnson’s words, but Jason’s voice.

“You need a good ass beaten’, kid. That’ll straighten you right out. That’s what all you fuckers need. Lucky for you I don’t mind making sure you keep on the straight and narrow.”

He doesn’t realize he’s chanting, “don’thitme, don’tdon’tdon’t, please please, don’t,” while Mr. Johnson backs off, the old recriminations and reprimands rolling right out in Jay’s smooth baritone.

He’s outright sobbing, arms trembling above his head where he’s trapped, trapped. He can’t move, he can’t run, he can’t hide, he can’t–

And a blink takes him to the same fire escape outside his penthouse where he’d found Nightwing bleeding out, pulse already weakening, breathing shallow–

“What–“

The whiteouts on that domino are up so he can see Nightwing’s blue eyes flutter open weakly, can see the hand move gingerly to the bleeding wound on his abdomen.

“I can help you,” he yells out, hoping to make those eyes look at him, to get the vigilante to come to him, “I can save you, but you’ve got to get here.” This time his hands, his arms, his whole body is straining to get free, to reach the vigilante that needs him, that’s dying on him while he fucking watches.

The vigilante half-smiles at him, finger stripes more dark than blue, and his head goes back, visibly slumping.

“Nightwing, Nightwing, look at me! Open your eyes!” He knows he’s begging, fighting, but there’s bands around his chest, around his wrists, his ankles and thighs.

“I need, I need sutures, gloves, blood bag, and-and, I need, I need–“ but Nightwing’s head flops and his chest stutters, “LOOK AT ME! You can’t die like this, you can’t. I’m right here, I can save you!”

He sobs out loud, whole body jerking to get free.

“Ssshhh, baby doll, ssshhh,” makes him open his eyes even though he can barely see through the tears streaming down his face, his sobbing, his heart pounding copper in the back of his throat.

And there’s Jay, lying on his chest, all soft and sweet, with a post-sex grin. He’s too beautiful to be real.

“Jay?” He croaks.

“Yeah,” all soft and sweet.

Until he tilts his head, and the horrific smile below his chin leaks rich red down his throat.

“J-Jay?!” His eyes go wide and horrified because there’s his vigilante boyfriend bleeding out all over his chest, far gone enough to be silly and loopy with blood loss.

“S’okay, yeah? When s’time, s’time. Don’t gotta be sad about it, Timmy.”

“N-No, no, put-Jay, listen to me, put pressure on it, okay? Put both hands and press down. You-you’re loosing too much blood. I need you to–“

“That ain’t what’s happening here, Timmers.” Slurry and low, Jay’s face getting pale, eyes fluttering. “Like I tol’ ya b’fore. One day…one day I ain’t gonna come back. S’ just gonna be my time.”

And Tim’s shirt is wet with it, Jay’s blood staining him, soaking through his clothes, the weight of his big body heavier as his strength goes, as his eyes get dimmer, the jade flecks all but gone.

“You can’t. Jay, babe, you can’t. You have to fight. Please fight,” his hands are straining, but he’s so tired, weak, isn’t strong enough to get to them, to save them from their fates. "I don't... I can't be the last one left standing again. I can't. Please, fight. Please!"

'"Nah, Baby. Small right now. Love ya. Love ya s'much."

"I love you too," he sobs, can't breathe, can't think.

(He’s never been strong enough, has he? He’s not strong enough to be what they need.)

He finally can’t fight anymore, just stays pinned under Jay’s weakening body to cry and shake apart.

“Do something,” Dick yells, tears running down his face where he’s pinning Tim’s legs down so he stops hurting himself fighting the restraints.

Alfred, eyes narrow and wet-looking, huffs and turns on his heel abruptly. He fishes out supplies from the cabinet, uses a clean hypodermic to puncture the sedative.

Master Jason is staring up at Master Tim’s face, trying to be that boy in the Robin cape from all those years ago. Trying to be strong in the face of such horrors.

“Master Bruce, account for general anesthesia,” Alfred calls briskly and injects carefully into the IV.

“Understood,” the quickly working vigilante calls back from the lab, running the number a second time, darting looks at his children doing one of the hardest jobs he’s ever asked them to do.

He can tell by how Damian’s shoulders are shaking, Dick is opening crying against Tim’s hip, Jay’s lower lip trembling, eyes wet where he’s keeping Tim’s forearms pinned around the IV in his arm.

He add the variables, taking deep breaths, makes mental notes all over the place to look into Tim’s past foster parents.

Johnson. Right.

And the hardened bat can’t say his heart isn’t thundering in his throat watching Tim’s struggle, scream, cry out in grief, trying to use his reasoning and logic, having the fucking Joker of all people as part of his perpetual nightmares…

Bruce takes a calming breath, forces himself to be the Bat while he aches for the kids.

Twelve hours later, he comes to somewhere not his Penthouse or Dick’s apartment.

It’s chilly wherever he is, but for some reason his whole body just aches, hurts like he’d been in another damn car wreck or something. It’s too much effort to lift his head and look around, not when he’s pretty sure he’s in Dick’s lap, recognizes the smell of Dick’s jugular.

He hums a little, glad someone at least gave him a blanket because he’s at least mostly warm. His nose is pretty cold, but he just snuggles into Dick’s neck and sighs.

He tries to raise his knees to fold in, get warmer, but his heels bump into legs, and cracking his eyes open, he realizes Jay is sitting by Dick on the floor of the Cave, Tim laying over their laps.

He’s got a cotton ball taped to the inside of his forearm, and no idea why. He blinks a few times, lifts up enough to see Dami on Jay’s other side, head nudged against Jay’s shoulder. A hand is still on Tim’s ankle.

The sudden need to go to the bathroom drives him from their huddle on the cold floor, but at least he spreads the blanket out over them after he manages to pull out of their arms without waking them.

From their faces and expressions, whatever he isn’t immediately remembering couldn’t have been good.

But first, bathroom. Then, maybe coffee? Because that? Would be absolutely stellar at this juncture. Maybe some ibuprofen.

Luckily, there’s swanky digs in the Bat Cave, a set of lockers, showers, nice hot tub for long soaks after a night of kicking bad guy ass.

All the vigilante amenities.

He’s bleary and sore, staggering to the bathroom, noting B is asleep on the big computer, and Alfred sitting back in another chair, tea cup and saucer on the hard drive next to him.

He smiles a little, wonders if he can find a few more blankets somewhere.

A glance in the mirror as he was washing his hands shows him a bunch of road rash city. Man, he must have been caught up in the middle of something again.

Seriously.

He splashes cold water on his face, works out the low throbbing ache of his bandaged wrists.

He’s shuffling back, thinking about just waking everyone the hell up to send people to bed, like themselves because his ass is numb, and there’s warm beds upstairs. When there’s pounding footsteps, skitters, and slides, whoosh of air, and Dick is right there up in his face, panting like he’d just sprinted all the way across the Cave in a quick hurry.

“Timmy?!”

He blinks up, still bleary about everything, his throat and voice wrecked as fuck, “hey honey. How was your night fighting shitty bad guys?”

He has no idea why Dick’s expression crumples, his eyes getting teary out of nowhere. He’s not prepared for Dick to start crying, to see his beautiful boyfriend hold a hand over his eyes and break down.

“Dick? Dick?”

He goes from holding himself, shuddering with the cold and ache in his bones, to up in Dick’s face, hand on his shoulder, looking for some injury, something to tell him how to help–

But Dick takes a few shuddering breaths under his hand, and Tim just wriggles his arms around Dick’s chest to hold on for a few long seconds before he gets full-on octopus hold right around his everything.

(Okay, that’s a relief.)

“…was it bad?” He asks softly, making circles with his palms as wide as Dick’s hold will let him.

“Y-Yes. It was bad. You don’t remember?” Dick sniffles against the side of his head, rocking them both gently.

“Not yet.” He shrugs an unconcerned shoulder. As someone who’s had a concussion (okay, okay, concussions), and has worked in the medical field in one of the most dangerous cities on the fucking planet, he knows there are plenty of bad guys with chemical weapons that don’t always leave short term memories in tact.

Dick shakes a little and holds him tighter.

“Fuckfuckfuck. Didja find 'im??!” As Jay rounds the corner and almost slams right into them.

He skids to a stop as Dick swiftly shifts them around out of the way. Jay doesn’t do anything to dislodge Dick’s grip, but palms the sides of Tim’s face, his eyes a hard, icy blue.

“Hey, Sweets, hey,” low in a dark way, not the usual, fun dark way. Tim has a strike of fear, takes stock of himself, of Dick, of Jay, wonders who else in the Cave might be hurt! That’s why they’re here. Someone got hurt coming after his ass, didn’t they?

“Dami? B?” He interrupts, eyes going from Jay to Dick and back.

“Fine, everyone’s fine,” is curt, short with him in a way that doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t have enough evidence.

“O-kay. You both are fine. B and Dami are fine. Alfred?”

Over his head, his boyfriends exchange a look that is really starting to worry him.

But the next twelve hours are virtually impossible to escape. The sordid details come out once Tim remembers being in that convenience store. He gets snatches of half-lucid memories, probably never will remember the entire things. The brain is the most fascinating part of the body for a reason, not only as the control center, but also as the decision-maker on what things to blot out to protect itself.

By the time Dami starts out, they’ve migrated up to Wayne Manor, parted ways to shower and wash off the night. Dick and Jay bracketing him in, being absurdly gentle, consistent soft touches, fingers wrapping around his, hands on his back, kisses pressed into his hair.

There’s some scrapes on his forearms along with the ones on his face, washed gingerly in the shower where he finally feels warm again. Alfred leaves a special bled of his healing goop and has set out pajamas for all of them before he left, requesting them to please come have breakfast.

Tim’s stomach rumbles while they’re getting dressed, and he’s pretty much picked up, and carried down the massive staircase.

(Ugh, this is after the bridge fiasco all over again.)

But the end result: food and coffee in Wayne Manor, so bonus?

Dami is looking at him like a kicked puppy. A perpetual pissed off kicked puppy, but he tilts his head to the side inquiringly, raising his eyebrows in invitation.

“I found you almost at Sheldon Park,” Dami starts softly, but at least everyone’s eaten first.

He flinches a little when Bruce tells him what he’d said about his Dad. When Alfred tells him about the Joker and Harley Quinn either going to inject him with some crazy sauce or lobotomize him.

(Yup. Pretty horrifying either way.)

Dami tells him about seeing everyone die around him while Dick has a firm hand on his knee under the table, their chairs closer together than necessary. Jason gives no shits keeping his fingers wrapped up tight, squeezing occasionally. Alfred keeps the mug in his free hand full, stands just by Dick’s other shoulder.

“I mean,” he finally starts after everything is out in the open, “it’s literally a toxin that fucks with your brain chemistry. Not shocking I’d see pretty awful things. I see awful things...a lot, so,” he shrugs a little helplessly in the face of the whole family looking utter raw and split open. “I...I’m...sorry, really sorry I worried everyone. I’ll try to stop getting into trouble so much, you know? But, um. It is Gotham.”

The family crowds around him, bringing in rank around the table.

And if he doesn’t have to stay at the Manor for the next week, geeze, and get coddled as fuck by the Batfamily, and get picked up from Mercy General every. single. night. for a while, and get wrapped up against two incredible vigilantes that whisper soft things against his throat, his ear, his mouth, his, well, his everything.

If he doesn’t get Bruce herding him into the study where the fire is burning, and it seems like the Batman is the most patient person ever to let him–let him talk about some of those old pains when he was in the system.

If Alfred literally can not make him eat enough food to be satisfied. Ever. And gives him a side-eye when he starts to push away a plate that has even a bite left.

(Alfred pizza is god-level, and you’ll never convince him otherwise. But if he eats anymore, he’s going to die. Please stop killing him with your tasty love.)

If Dami doesn’t make him watch NatGeo Wild with popcorn and boxes of candy, then grudgingly plays Mario Kart with him until Rainbow Road is like theirs. No questions asked.

If he finally doesn’t go back to his penthouse, breathes in the familiar smells, gets absolutely destroyed in the Best. Possible. Ways for the next five straight hours. If he isn’t a boneless pile of I can’t possibly come again, for the next week at least.

If Baby Bird, Timmers, Sweets, Timmy, and Baby aren’t wrapped around him with arms and sweet kisses pressed to his forehead and hair every time he leaves for work or they leave for patrol.

If he was before this, in the slightest bit uncertain he belongs with them, as part of their family–

–he sure as hell knows better now.

At least that’s one less thing to be afraid of.

Note:

In Tim’s fear fueled delusion, the Joker is Alfred, Harley is Dami holding equipment to treat him. His dad was really B taking the blood samples from Alfred to analyze. He’s horrified once he realizes what Tim is seeing.

Mr. Johnson, the abusive foster parent is Jay, which Tim kind of associates because of the accent.

Dying Nightwing is Dick bent over to hold his legs down, and the next switch is really Jay laying over him upper body to keep him from hurting himself more.

(Congrats for making it to the end. *Hands tissue*)

#winter answers #doctor!tim #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #read at your own risk #read the warnings #hurt/comfort #fear gas #holy shit tim #you will cry #but it's worth it #my fic #my writing #dickjaytim #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #cuddle tf out of our boy #bruce wayne

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xmyshya · 3 years

Text

Bumpy road

summary: What if two of your favourite boys were pining after you? genre: angst, fluff, crack warnings: stupidity special thanks: the whole HQ Headquarters DS, for giving me ideas, for hyping up, for everything, I love you all. a/n: Colour coded! Red for Kuroo, Yellow for Atsumu, black for neutral/both! There's an Easter Egg! wc: 3.9k words

[April]

“Please take a seat in the last row”, your eyes followed an extended arm of your new homeroom teacher until they landed on a boy with the messiest bedhead you’d ever seen. He didn’t seem to pay much attention to you though, instead resting his eyes on a faraway point on the other side of the window. Until he heard the noise you made while shuffling your chair, that is. “Hiiiiii, I’m L/N Y/N, nice to meet you neighbour!”, a wide smile formed on your face. “Kuroo Tetsurou, nice to meet you too”.

One week later, you were standing on the gym's threshold, filling your lungs with a deep breath before taking the first step in as a new manager. Volleyball had never been a sport close to your heart, but you had had some experience with it, as well as basic knowledge, so you were up for a challenge. All the more reason to after being asked by an unexpectedly fun friend. And being able to spend more time with said friend. But more time spent on talking came with another consequence. You started hearing rumours and whispers. Things like wow, she’s really talking to him or oh, another victim to his charm reached your ears from everywhere. “Kuroo, am I not supposed to talk to you or something?”, slipped your lips one day. You might as well continue, since he already heard you and was now looking at you with a confusion clear in his eyes. “I just heard people being… surprised about this”. “Oh, apparently I’m either intimidating or hot enough to be a fuckboy”, you choked on your own saliva. “You’re what?” “Intimidating or hot, or both”, did he really say that with a straight face, not once but twice? You just burst out laughing, eyeing him up and down. “Sorry, where?”, laughter bending your body in half, you bumped your head against the desk. “Ouch”

[July]

School premises were swarmed with sweaty boys. Some of them were familiar, like Bokuto or Akaashi, who had been friends with Kuroo for quite a long time. You recognised Karasuno, also known as Country Bumpkins, due to a practice match 2 months prior. The rest? Well, you only knew they were parts of the Fukurodani group. There was a mock game going on, and you, being a diligent manager, observed every move of your teammates to give them performance feedback. Further into the game though, your eyes shifted more and more onto your best friend’s lifting shirt, every time he went for a block. Or spiked. Or served. And wow, his thigh muscles were really… “Okay people, time for a break!”, a shout somewhere near you brought you back to reality. You stood up and made your way to the door, to catch some fresh air, while you bumped into quite a firm body. Looking up revealed it was Kuroo. His smirk made you wonder if he noticed your stares. His wink convinced you he, in fact, did. “Y/N, your name should be Neon, cause daaaaaamn you’re a perfect 10” “So you must be Helium, cause I sure as hell want you on top of me on a table”, few people whistled. Oh shit. His reaction gave you an extra boost of confidence, because now it was painfully obvious that all the rumours about the man in front of you were pretty much it, rumours, since his ears could as well be beacons. You winked at him on your way back to the door, and he still stood there dumbfounded when you looked back after reaching it.

[October]

Something had changed. You couldn’t quite put a finger on what exactly, but it was different. Like a tiny heat wave whenever your hands brushed, and they brushed more often. Like an extra beat of your heart whenever you felt his touch on the small of your back. Like your eyes lingering on for a second longer, before dropping to each other’s lips. Like a blush tinting his ears when you smile at him. Or like the way his heart clenched, when your thick tears threatened to burn their way through his chest, because the world had been unfair to you once too many, while the only thing he could do was to hold you so tight and kiss the top of your head so gently.

[November]

Having to stay late at school really was a blessing, when it was just the two of you in an empty train compartment on your way home. Otherwise, you surely would be scolded or at least stared at, because the decibels of your laughters while fooling around were beyond socially acceptable limits. He was now chasing you, fingers threatening to tickle you once you’re caught… You started to turn just in time for your back to hit the wall, and you definitely didn’t expect him to be so close, with the way he hovered over you and his hand making a loud thud. Or maybe it was your heart. “Oh sorry, the train bumped”, there was something in his eyes that compelled you to look into them, even when he leaned on his forearm above your head. He was so close, you could almost feel his breath on your skin. “Are you sure it’s not you falling for me?”, a chuckle in your throat died instantly as you saw his eyes open wide in fear for a fraction of a second, before his usual cocky smirk curled his lips again. He booped your nose before leaning against the wall next to you. The rest of the way home was silent.

[January]

It was time for you to run to your own team’s match. There was no way to miss a game for a manager, even if it was just your presence serving as a support on court. Your eyes slipped down to your watch only for a moment, but it was enough for a disaster to occur. You felt your body clash with another. “I’m so-” “Watch where yer running, ya fucking idiot”, you really wanted to apologise, you really did. But obviously not anymore, not when the other person was shouting at you like that. “Excuse me?! And where the fuck did your eyes go, huh? And don’t you dare speak to me like that”, your finger digging relentlessly into this stranger’s chest, despite his posture being so much bigger than yours, rage boiling in your veins blocking successfully any feeling of intimidation. “Do ya have any idea who ya talkin’ to? Miya Atsumu of Inarizaki, ya pig”, he straightened up and lifted his chin, looking down at you with a half smirk. You, however, only raised a brow. “Ooohhhhh…”, you squint your eyes for a moment, tapping a finger on your slightly pouty lips. “Never heard of ya”, you gave him a wide smile as you continued your rushed steps towards another gym. “W-wait a sec!”, shit, you really didn’t have time for this, “I uhh, sorry? I thought ya were one of dem stalking fangals and uhh...”, it was clear he wasn’t used to apologising. “The way ya talked back at me was so freaking cool! Can I have yer number?” You were shocked that he dared asking you that after the insults he spouted. Even more so, when you found yourself tapping your digits into his phone.

Nekoma won the match. Not that it was surprising, you always believed in the boys, and you had believed in their plan. But now that the game was over, you were heading to have a sneak peek at your Crow friends. You didn’t expect the situation to be so dire. From the scoreboard, your eyes moved to their opponents and… oh shit. Preparing to serve was HIM, none other than self-proclaimed “THE” Miya Atsumu. He noticed you too, surely, because he was grinning your way and oh my god was it a wink? Because it definitely looked like a wink. The whole match was a pain to watch. It had you hyped, it had you devastated, it had you crying and laughing uncontrollably. But when Oranges finally won, indescribable joy overwhelmed you, while you screamed and jumped around. Sudden hand on the small of your back startled you, emotion quickly replaced with surprise and confusion when you saw Kuroo attached to it. He hadn’t touched you in 2 months. “C’mon, time for us to go”, he pushed you gently towards the door while staring down the blonde setter behind your back. His gaze said he was taking up the challenge.

In the evening, the whole team was gathered in front of the tv to watch repetitions, over and over again, and figure out a strategy. Honestly your focus only could last that long, mind already looking for distractions, when you heard a ding from your phone. [unknown]: Ya know, could’ve been less happy about our loss. ‘M heartbroken now. [Y/N]: That’s what you get for playing against my friends ;) who’s this, btw? [Miya]: Whaddya mean ‘who’?! It’s Miya Atsumu here! [Y/N]: Aaahhhhh… Never heard of him :D [Miya]: We gotta change it then “Maaaaan, I wish we could play against Miyas”, Yamamoto’s voice dragged you back into the room. “Yeah, me too”, Kuroo hissed through clenched teeth.

[February]

Recent weeks were crazy. Preparation for college entrance exams was consuming most of your time, along with your sanity. If only Kuroo was with you, he would surely tell you to take a short break, instead, your mind was spiraling into educational anxiety. Am I doing enough? What if I fail? What if I forget something? What if… the soft sound of a notification brought you down to Earth. Miya Atsumu sent you a friend request. Ah, right. You were overworking yourself so much lately, that you almost stopped replying to his texts, still you were sure to receive at least one every 2-3 days. Request accepted. Just when you were about to re-focus on the textbook in front of you, another notification came. Miya Atsumu liked your photo. Amused, you click on it only to discover the picture was from… 4 years ago. Reaction disappeared, however, almost as quickly as it appeared. On the other side of the line Atsumu’s hands were shaking and sweating, his face red, as his brain was sent into an overdrive. Oh no, oh no, ohnonono, what have I done, has she noticed, do I look desperate, what do I do now, whatdoIdo. But you never said anything about it.

[Miya]: Ya need ta relax once in a while, ya know? [Miya]: Stress ain’t bringing in results [Y/N]: Wow, so you can say something wise :0 [Miya]: HA. HA. HA. [Miya]: Now please wouldya get me? I dunno Tokyo too much. 10 minutes later you were scanning the crowd on the train station in search of a familiar blonde. It wasn’t too hard to find him, but unexpectedly… he had company. Of 2 other guys, including one looking exactly like him, except for a different hair colour. They were introduced to you as ‘Samu (apparently Atsumu was too nervous to go alone) and Suna (he would never miss a spectacle like this). “So where do you need to get to?”, Suna looked at his friend with amusement, and you could swear you heard his twin whisper “she doesn’t know?”. Suddenly you had a phone screen right in front of your eyes, pictures of your favourite cafe on display. How did he.... “I wanna take a certain gal here”, Atsumu tapped on the screen, his eyes focused intensely on yours. As soon as you shifted your gaze from his mobile to his face though, he looked away. “Let’s go then, I guess”

Having your favourite hot chocolate in your hands would have been relaxing, if not for the deafening silence and weird smirks between two extras. “Soooooo, care to explain what you’re doing here?” “Sightseeing?”, blonde sitting opposite of you looks quite adorable with the pink tint, hand on the nape of his neck. Wait, adorable? “Yeah, y/n here being the sight, OUCH”, Suna jumped in his seat, definitely kicked by Atsumu. Maybe he was right, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a breather from books and notes. On the other side of the window, Kuroo was clenching his fists, as he watched you laugh, not really sure of the reason behind his anger.

[April]

Being late on the very first day is a bad omen, you cursed as you ran through the campus. It was NOT your fault that it was so needlessly big. It also wasn’t your fault that you spent way too much time searching for motivation to attend this class, which was clearly added to the program to harass students. It was bound to be the most boring subject, you just felt it in your bones. You opened the door to the lecture hall as quietly as you could, and then tiptoed to the nearest free seat, eyes trained on the lecturer (you thanked gods she was turned back to the room). Luck was on your side, she hasn’t noticed. “Whatcha doin’ here, babe?”, a sudden whisper and lips barely brushing your ears made you jump in your chair. You almost screamed, but the man’s reflexes were almost inhuman, as he covered your mouth with his hand. Truthfully speaking, it might have been better to prevent your knee from bumping against the desk, because now you had all the unwanted attention. And a hurting knee. “K-Kuroo?!”, you whisper-shout back at him. “I knew we enrolled in the same university, but same class?” “I think this might be the only one, since it’s mandatory for everyone” You thought this course might actually be your favourite.

Obviously he noticed it. It was impossible not to, since the pisshead was a new follower on almost ALL of your social media. Not just a follower, no. He was commenting on nearly each photo, and reacting to every. Single. One. At first Kuroo was just mildly annoyed. Then angry. And then he could feel his blood boil whenever he saw his name under your post. He wasn’t going to tell you though how he checked every hour or so if you had replied. That day, when you both sat in your room, working on some early assignment (two heads are better than one), your phone was blowing up. Tetsurou knew who it was, he saw the bubbles popping up on your screen. You didn’t pay attention to them, much to his relief. On the other hand, Atsumu was going crazy. “Samuuuuuu, she ain’t replying!” “Samuuuuuu, ya think she’s on a date?” “Samuuuuuu, did I annoy her too much?” “Samuuuu….” “Shut up, Tsumu” “Y/N? Smile for the photo”, he laughed when your head snapped towards his raised hand, and your eyes opened wide. Kuroo pushed the shutter button exactly when you smacked his arm. “What the hell’s wrong with you?!”, notes and the search engine slowly reclaimed your main focus, partly because you wanted to hide a blush blooming on your cheeks. “Just wanted to commemorate our first study session in our university life!”, he mused as he entered First assignment with the best girl <3 - @y/n in caption and pressed <upload>. Let’s see if you react to this one, asshole. He didn’t.

[May]

[Y/N]: Are you okay? You’ve been awfully silent lately. [Miya]: ‘M ok! Didn’t want to bother ya. [Y/N]: Huh? [Y/N]: Why the sudden change? [Miya]: Idk, maybe I shouldn’t text “best girl <3” [Y/N]: Atsumu… You’re an idiot [Miya]: Am not! He was. He realised this few days later, right before hopping on a train to Tokyo. Or rather… his brother made him realise this. “Huuuuuuuh?! Whaddya mean I like her?! I mean, I do, she’s cool, but whaaaat?!” “Tsumu… Yer about’a get on a train ta see her!” “So?” “Yer an idiot” “Hey! That’s what she said too!” Looking back at it, that might have been true. Maybe. After all, he was on his way to a city 500 km away, just to see… a friend. Would he do that for just a friend?

He found you outside, and he swore it was the prettiest scene he had ever seen. Gentle breeze blew your hair, as you basked in the sunshine. With your floral dress you reminded him of a flower praising the sun. In that very moment he regretted he hadn’t bought you anything, not even some flowers. Not that they would compare to you. He watched you turn to him in slow motion, as if he was in a movie, and you were about to jump into his arms. You just smiled instead, but its brightness could rival the orb up in the sky. At that moment, he knew he was gone.

“So ya say… there’s anime about volleyball?” “Yes! And it’s so good! Seems pretty accurate too!” “Ya hafta show me! That’s so cool!”, he reminded you of a kid, with his eyes shining like glitter, and a smile covering at least half of his face.

He had exactly the same expression, when he suddenly stopped walking and you bumped into him, ice cream spreading nicely on your nose as he was taking a selfie of both of you. And then again at the train station, when he was worried his arms might have lingered a tad too long around your waist, but you didn’t pull back. Later, a screech could be heard in your room as that photo appeared on your timeline. With your name attached to it. In yer face, rooster bastard, Atsumu thought as he had clicked the <upload> button. Kuroo only scoffed, original much. But if that’s how he wants to play…

[July]

Lunch break was your favourite part of the day not just because it was, well, a break, and not only because of lunch. It was the time spent on talking, goofing around and stealing each other’s food, together with Tetsurou. That day, however, exhaustion took over and you couldn’t do much more than just lay your head on the cantine table, your hair a messy veil. “I can’t wait for summer break to come, I want it to come already! My brain is so tired” “Hang in there! It’s just 2 weeks of exams, and then we’re free!” “Why are you doing this to me, Kuroooooo” “I’ve always been a nice person” His hand was soft as he gently uncovered your face, strand by strand. “Wanna go somewhere and relax a little before all hell breaks loose?” Soft hum was the only thing leaving your lips as you melted into his touch.

The sun was merciless, as if its sole purpose was to burn the Earth to ashes. The fact that you were ankles deep in a stream and shielded by dense leaves didn’t help at all. Undeniably though it was soothing for the soul. “Okay, let’s move on”, Kuroo said, despite wanting to watch you forever. There was something about this relaxed expression that strung the cords of his heart. Yes, you looked happy. It took you too short a while to have shoes on and be ready to walk again. Summer breeze felt wonderful as you climbed up a rocky hill, scorching heat finally letting up a little. Temptation to just stand there with eyes closed and arms open wide almost too strong. Still, you let yourself submerge in it enough, not to notice a slippery boulder. You were preparing yourself for the impact, but instead, you felt a pull on your wrist and then a firm chest in front and a strong arm around your waist. “Please be more careful”, a whisper rather felt than heard, barely louder than a breath. This and his scent intoxicated you. “Let’s go?”

The view was magnificent. Just behind the hill, there was a lake, as clear as glass. Its naturally azure colour was tinted with golden afternoon light and rosy flowers covering the trees growing around the coastline. Some of the petals were floating on the surface, between the sun kissed shimmers. It was truly breathtaking, both of you wished you could stay in that moment. Neither of you noticed, none of you had let go of each other’s hand.

[Y/N]: Random thought. [Y/N]: What if I were a werewolf? [Miya]: … [Miya]: Are ya? oO [Y/N]: Hmm? Would it be a problem if I was? [Miya]: I… ‘m allergic to dogs… :( [Miya]: I swear I’ll get meds! [Y/N]: Wow, such a sacrifice! You would do that for me? [Miya]: I would even hunt squirrels for ya! [Y/N]: Squirrels? [Miya]: Or whatever werewolves eat [Y/N]: Wow, I’m speechless “Samuuuuuuuuu, she sent me a heart! A HEART!”, the fluttering in his chest was almost unbearable. “Shut yet mouth, ya simp! It’s 1 am!” He wasn’t a simp, of course not. Sure, he did watch whatever you recommended to him, and listened to whatever song you said you loved. He did research on things you had said were interesting, and rushed to his phone whenever it announced a new message. But being a simp? Him? Never.

[August]

If this wasn’t heaven, you didn’t know what would be. Warm sand under your back, cool water coming in waves to wash the heat off of your skin, and the sun watching you from the clearest sky. You heard a click somewhere behind your head, and opened your eyes to see your relative, showing proudly their creation. “You just looked so blissful, Y/N. Couldn’t help it”. You couldn’t blame them. You didn’t remember feeling this much at peace either. “Send it to me, please!”

Tucked gently in your covers, you were swiping through your gallery, admiring the pictures you and your relative had taken. After another round you finally decided which ones you wanted to share with the world, a mixture of landscapes, sunsets and portraits. As soon as you were informed about the post being up, you silenced your phone and closed your eyes ready to sleep… This might have been one of the best decisions you had made recently. You had never seen that many alerts on any of your content. Majority of these were from Atsumu, who obviously made sure none of your uploadings went unnoticed, which spread a warmth in your chest. What really caught your attention though, was how many times one particular picture was mentioned. Yes, the one on the beach. It was almost scary. {Kuroo}: Babe, you shouldn’t expose yourself like that, there are thirsty bois around. {Atsumu}: Who tf are ya callin’ thirsty?! {Kuroo}: Never said I was talking about you, but I guess I found one {Atsumu}: Listen here ya smug ass’ole, ya think yer funny? Suna only sent a gif of popcorn eating {Osamu}: Okay Y/N, as much as I find this exhilarating…just choose already, spare those two poor souls! Suna sent another gif, this time a very disappointed one.

Choose? Wtf does that mean? And then it hit you. Kuroo suddenly getting touchy again after distancing himself from you. His sudden clinginess whenever Atsumu interacted, phone in plain sight. Miya’s constant attention. His willingness to travel and never asking for anything in return. His eagerness to learn about anything you liked. Had you really been so oblivious for this whole time? Well, it could wait until you were back home.

Memories flooded your mind as you were typing the message, your heartbeat rate over the roof, your hands shaky, but you knew you needed to do this. For your sake. For his sake. One last glance over the text “I think it’s time for us to talk…” before you press <send>

Epilogue 1 - Kuroo Epilogue 2 - Tsumu Epilogue 3 - both

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caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma · 4 years

Text

Map of the Soul, Chapter Two

For the @btswritingcafe‘s Map of the Soul: 7 Workshop

Pairings: OT7 x reader (kinda); Taehyung x reader

Series Summary: If you give a piece of yourself to everyone you love, at some point, there will be nothing left for yourself. While feeling lost and alone in your adult life, a strange box falls onto your head in your own closet, and you take an unexpected walk down memory lane wondering where everything went wrong. Was it the romances that fizzled out, the friends & loved ones you left behind, the “what could’ve been” moments, the brush with Fate that never quite connected? Could the strange map you find have the answers you are looking for? Determined to feel complete once again, you embark on a journey to reclaim the missing pieces of your soul.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut (references to previous)

Word Count: 8k+

Warnings: cursing & vulgar language, accidental flashing, mentions of kinks and other sexual content, sexual innuendos, mentions of previous sexual encounters, nerdy soulmate things, bisexuality

Chapter Two: Soulmates are a Forever Kind of Thing

March 18th, 11:37am

The sound of an incessant car alarm outside tore you away from the breezy dreamscape you were enjoying with a scantily clad Jungkook. You pried your eyes open and groaned at the never-ending beeps and boops below your window.

SHUT UP ALREADY, YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A MACHINE!

You grumbled angrily as you slid out of bed and made your way to the bathroom. The soreness between your legs made you smile, and you flirted with the idea of texting Jungkook.

Hmmm, too soon. Better give it a day or two.

It was a lazy Sunday for you, so you spent the next hour lounging and snacking while Oberyn curled up next to you on the couch. You were starting to submit to an afternoon of mindless YouTube streaming when a notification dinged on your phone.

Jungkook?!

You scrambled across the couch to take your phone off of the charger. The notification wasn’t from your messaging app though, it was from your Instagram. Your old friend Taehyung sent you a message and you smiled when you saw his profile picture. Your heart warmed as you thought about the first time you met Kim Taehyung.

↸ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

Several Decades Earlier

You met Kim Taehyung in kindergarten when you fell off the monkey bars and he unknowingly broke your fall. You couldn’t figure out how to soothe the sobbing mess he was, so you kissed him on the cheek like your mother would whenever you got hurt.

“Better?” you hoped. “Did I make the hurt go away?”

He sniffled slightly and looked up at your face with tears streaming down his face. He pouted and shook his head emphatically, then pointed to the top of his head. You simply nodded and planted a soft kiss to the top of his chocolate locks.

“How about now?” you tried. “All gone?”

He pouted again and then pointed to his forehead. You pulled his head closer and placed another kiss on his forehead. His tears stopped, but he was still hiccuping as a result of his earlier crying fit.

“What’s wrong?” You asked gently, still holding his head. “Are you still hurt?”

His pout deepened and he nodded slightly. He tried to look you in the eye, but he kept hiccuping and closing his eyes in protest.

“Where?” you pleaded. “I’ll make it better.”

He lifted his shining puppy dog eyes to meet your concerned face. Slowly, he lifted his finger and placed it on his own pouty lips. You gasped slightly and widened your eyes.

“There?” you asked. “I hit you there?”

I guess that makes sense. I probably kicked him when I fell.

New tears formed in his big brown eyes and your heart sank at the sight. You sighed and gathered up your strength. With a huff, you leaned forward quickly and placed the softest little peck on his lips and then pulled away. However, before you could escape, the boy reached up and grabbed your wrist. You panicked for a moment, but then realized he just needed help standing up.

You helped him stand and as soon as you dusted the dirt from the fall, he enveloped you in a crushing bear hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I feel much better now.”

He pulled away and wiped at his eyes. You offered him a small smile and grinned at the adorable sight. A sudden realization hit you and you gasped loudly, which captured his attention.

“Hey,” you cried. “Your hiccups are gone!”

The boy froze and looked around, as though hiccups were tangible things he could track with his vision. A wide grin blossomed across his face and you noted the cute boxy shape. As troubled as this first encounter was, you still felt drawn to the silly boy with the rosy cheeks and fluffy hair.

“What’s your name?” you asked sweetly. “Want to be friends?”

“My name is Taehyung,” he replied while grabbing your hand. “I would love to be your friend!”

ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ⇲

A soft smile spread across your face at the memory. A lifelong friendship started from that first tumble, and you never regretted giving your first kiss away to the cute boy you’d crushed when you fell from those monkey bars.

Sigh.

You opened up your Instagram app and searched for the message Taehyung sent. Your eyes widened and you laughed maniacally when you saw the picture he sent.

You were laughing so hard, you nearly fell off the couch. Oberyn scuffled away angrily, clearly annoyed that your outburst of laughter disturbed his nap time.

When the giggle fit finally died down to a manageable sense of amusement, you looked at the message again. Taehyung always did have a way of saying just the right thing at just the right time. Your amusement quickly shifted into longing and nostalgia, and you could almost feel your soul aching for its mate.

I miss him so much.

Over seven years had passed since you last saw Taehyung in person. The summer before you were going to start high school, his parents had to move to another state. You were both happy that his dad was finally getting the promotion he worked so hard for, but it was devastating to think that you would be going through high school without your best friend and soulmate.

Throughout high school, you kept in touch (thank the gods for the internet and smartphones), but you both went to different colleges and were only able to meet up during breaks. Once you both graduated, you took jobs in different states and your communication dwindled to random messages and the occasional phone call or video chat.

It wasn’t enough. You needed him as a permanent physical fixture in your life, but there wasn’t much either of you could do about it. You both loved your jobs and you were comfortable in your current living situations. However, if an opportunity to change that ever revealed itself, you were positive that you would both jump at it like feral cats.

You briefly considered messaging him on Instagram, but your lingering nostalgia convinced you to call him instead. It was so long since you’d heard his resonant baritone voice purring into your ear. Honestly, that voice alone could wreck someone to pieces. Luckily, you knew the man connected to the voice so it didn’t affect you nearly as much.

You quickly scrolled through your contacts and hit the “Call” button. After three rings, the man himself answered with a long sigh.

“You couldn’t give me a few minutes to dry myself off before calling?” he whined cutely. “I had to rush through my shower just to answer the phone.”

“No one told you to do that, Tae,” you countered. “You could always let it go to voicemail and then just call me back.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed playfully. “You know better than anyone that I am the worst when it comes to returning phone calls. You’re lucky I still remember to send you messages on social media.”

“Fair point, sir,” you giggled. “The only reason I haven’t kicked your forgetful ass to the curb is because you’re my best friend and I love your stupid ass.”

“Ummm, I think you mean soulmate,” Taehyung argued. “Remember, we decided that the term “best friend” wasn’t strong enough to accurately describe our relationship.”

“Ah, yes,” you concurred. “How could I possibly forget the Great Soulmate Debate of 5th grade? You almost got us into detention with that speech of yours, Tae.”

“It’s your fault,” he shot back. “If you had just accepted the term soulmate when I first suggested it, everything would have been fine. But, noooooooo, someone just had to argue with me and keep us in the hallway until we were officially skipping class.”

“Don’t complain, Tae-Bear, you love it when I argue with you,” you reminded him. “It’s part of the dynamic of our relationship. If we just gave in to each other all the time, it wouldn’t be any fun.”

“Exactly,” he chuckled. “You’re the ice to my fire, the sweet to my sour, the jelly to my peanut butter.”

“Why do you get to be the peanut butter?” you challenged. “Why do I have to be the jelly in this metaphor?”

“Because I’m smooth and you’re cool, remember?” Taehyung responded. “Don’t tell me your memory is slipping, babe.”

“No,” you sighed sadly. “I think it’s just been too long since we’ve actually seen each other in person. I miss you, Tae-Bear.”

The video call feature started ringing in your ear and you almost squealed in excitement. You swiped a finger across the screen and adjusted the phone on the coffee table. A shirtless Taehyung with wet hair greeted you with the boxiest of smiles, and you couldn’t help waving and squealing like a ridiculous fangirl.

“My Tae-Tae,” you cooed. “Baby, I miss you so much!”

He chuckled and pulled a scarf headband on to push his dark curling locks away from his eyes. You smiled at his golden skin glistening in his after shower glow, and shook your head at how many women despise you for being so close to this delicious morsel. It was a blessing and a curse, but you carried that burden with pride because you just loved him so much.

“Ok, now, let’s do the math, babe,” Taehyung ordered while pulling on a flowy button down with a wild print. “I know you hate math, but try to work with me, ok? When was the last time we were actually together in person?”

“Well, this is my eighth year teaching at the university,” you recalled. “I think it was that first Christmas after I started working here. We went home and had sleepovers every night until after New Year’s. You had just gotten your job at the marketing firm, and we were upset that we wouldn’t be able to see each other as much.”

“Shit,” he gaped at you. “Has it really been that long? That doesn’t seem right.”

“A little over seven years,” you calculated grimly. “We’ve tried to meet up almost every year, but something always comes up either with you or me.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, babe,” Taehyung apologized. “I didn’t even realize that much time passed. How are we even surviving?”

“Barely,” you pouted. “Whenever I’m off from school, you’re busy, and whenever you get vacation time, I have school. The cycle never ends.”

There was a few seconds of reluctant silence and then Taehyung had a visual epiphany.

“Actually,” Taehyung grinned. “I do have some vacation time I can take. I have a full week that I need to take this year or else I lose it. Aren’t you on Spring Break right now?”

You popped up in your seat and nodded quickly.

Was this really happening?!

“Kim Elizabeth Taehyung!” you scolded. “Don’t you dare play with my emotions right now. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Taehyung giggled and angled the phone so you could see that he was on one knee. He comically cleared his throat and gave you his best pouty face.

“My beautiful darling soulmate,” he purred in a purely saccharine voice. “Can I stay at your place while I take my vacation? I don’t want to stay in a lame Airbnb again.”

“Of course you can!” you exclaimed. “I could never say no to that adorable face.”

He jumped up and started breaking out into his signature celebration dance, but you quickly noted that he was just wearing a towel from the waist down. Before you could comment on his lack of clothing, the towel unraveled and you got an eyeful of Taehyung that men and women alike would kill to have.

“TAEHYUNG!” you screeched. “Cover your shame!”

He dropped the phone on the bed and you could hear his cute laughter filling the room. He was nearly gasping for air when he finally picked up the phone. You noted the reddened ears and rosy cheeks showering his boxy grin like a halo. The man was far from an angel, but at least he had the decency to be embarrassed by his accidental flashing.

“I never took you for a cam-boy, Tae,” you teased. “Is that how you’re earning extra money these days?”

He rolled his eyes and shot you a look over the phone. It’s not like you’d never seen Taehyung naked, but you had to admit, it had been a while.

“You know that isn’t one of my kinks, babe,” he reprimanded. “I am not an exhibitionist. I would never make it as a cam-boy.”

You leaned forward and glanced down and then back at his face and lifted your eyebrows suggestively.

“From what I could see,” you mused. “You are more than qualified to have a big, long successful career as a cam-boy. You could be rolling in some thick money stacks, if you know what I mean.”

He tried so hard to resist your perverse innuendo, but the scowl he threw at you quickly morphed into unadulterated amusement. He fell back on his bed and clutched at his stomach with a major case of the giggles. From your slanted angle on the bed, you could see him gasping for air with tears forming in his eyes. Once he regained his composure, he wiped away his tears and wagged his finger at you.

“Naughty, naughty,” he scolded. “I may have to punish you when I get there.”

You rolled your eyes at his insinuation, but quickly brightened at the prospect of his arrival. It was time to make plans for your Tae-bear’s trip.

“Ok, let’s get serious for a minute,” you stated. “I need dates, times, number of checked bags, everything. When should I expect you to get here, TaeTae?”

“Let me check with the office and I’ll get back to you, babe,” he replied. “I just finished off a big account, so I do have a little down time coming my way. I will get everything cleared at work and then book my flight. As soon as I know, you’ll know.”

“Ah, I’m so excited to see you!” you squealed with delight. “It’s been way too long. I’ll set up the guest room for you.”

“Umm, guest room?” Taehyung queried with a smirk. “Yeah, that isn’t going to work for me. I’m going to need the left side of your mattress, babe.”

“Tae, that’s my side of the bed,” you growled. “You know that.”

“I know,” he winked cheekily. “But as your guest of honor, I get first dibs. You could always sleep on top of me, if you so choose.”

“Absolutely not, Kim Taehyung,” you spat. “Soulmate or not, you know how crucial my sleep cycle is. Any disturbance hitherto is a recipe for disaster.”

“Meh,” he shrugged. “I’ll risk it.”

The sound of an alien space gun text tone went off and his brow furrowed slightly.

“Hey, babe, I gotta go,” Taehyung announced. “Duty calls.”

“Ok, baby,” you pouted. “Text me later!”

You both blew kisses at the camera and ended the video call. You plopped back onto the couch and took a deep breath. If the Universe was feeling generous, you would soon be enjoying a full week of soulmate time. It felt like a dream.

Please let this happen. I need some Tae-time to recharge my soul.

Oberyn randomly popped up by your side and pawed at your arm with a pathetic whine.

“Ok, ok,” you relented. “Let me get my shoes on and I will take you for a walk.”

As you slipped on your favorite pair of rainbow Crocs, you reached up to grab his harness and leash. Oberyn danced around you in circles and it took a few tries to get him situated and out the door. By the time you returned to the apartment, you decided it was time to grab some lunch and start planning your vacation week.

So much to do, so little time.

March 18th, 7:47pm

You were just starting up another load of laundry when you received a Snapchat notification from Taehyung. You unlocked your phone in a flash and opened your Snapchat app. You clicked on his name in your messages with your breath held hostage.

Oh no! I’m not ready for the disappointment yet.

You were just about to fall into your familiar pit of despair when another message popped onto the screen.

Your shrill cheers and exclamations scared Oberyn right out of the laundry room and into the safety of the living room. You almost felt bad for scaring the daylights out of your dog, but turnabout is always fair play in this house. He scared you half to death on multiple occasions. A little payback was definitely in order.

You immediately started a video call to Taehyung, bouncing with glee all over your apartment. He answered after only a few seconds, and thankfully, was fully dressed.

“Well, hello, beautiful,” Taehyung quipped. “Feels like I just saw you hours ago. Couldn’t get enough of me earlier?”

“I think you showed me plenty this morning,” you joked. “Now, dish out the deets, Kim. Will you be here by this weekend?”

“How does tomorrow sound?” he replied with a smirk. “I was able to cash in my miles to book an early flight tomorrow morning. I’m packing as we speak.”

“Are you kidding me?” you nearly shrieked. “You’re really going to be here tomorrow?!”

“Yup yup,” Taehyung chirped. “If you pick me up at the airport, I’ll buy you lunch. How does that sound?”

“It sounds perfect, Tae-Bear,” you sighed happily. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Same here, babe,” he smiled softly at you. “I’m going to finish packing and then I have to go drop off Tannie at my sister’s. She’s going to dog sit for me while I’m gone.”

“Awwww,” you cooed. “Bring him with you! You know Obie misses his little brother. You already have him cleared as your emotional support dog. Why don’t you just bring my precious Yeontan to see his favorite aunt?”

“You really don’t mind?” Taehyung questioned. “You know he’s just chaos disguised as a ball of fluff.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you retorted. “Tannie is an angel. I’ll start clearing out a space for him. I have an extra bed for him and everything. The boys still eat the same food, right? Just bring his bowls and a blanket for the bed.”

Taehyung considered your proposal carefully, and then pursed his lips.

“I think you need to ask him yourself,” Taehyung suggested. “Maybe you can convince him to come with me.”

Taehyung switched the perspective on the phone so you could see into his apartment. He walked down the hallway calling for Yeontan. Curled up on an elaborate dog bed and surrounded by a plethora of dog toys sat the fluffiest dog known to man. Yeontan lifted his head and yawned cutely into the camera.

“Tannie!” you cooed at him. “What are you doing, sweetheart? Are you napping?”

Yeontan’s fluffy tail wagged in excitement and he stood up and shook the sleepiness out of his fur. You reached over to lift Oberyn from his spot on the couch and put him in view of the camera.

“Look, Obie,” you instructed. “It’s your little brother. Say hi.”

Both dogs tried to sniff at the other dog in the frame, and their eyes lit up in recognition.

“Tannie, do you want to come and visit your big brother Obie?” you asked the animated pup on the phone. “Tell your daddy that you want to come over to stay with us.”

Oberyn barked at the screen and wagged his tail, and Yeontan followed suit. The yips and growls from both dogs made you and Taehyung giggle profusely. You released your wiggly pup and sat forward on the couch to grin at your soulmate as he switched the perspective back to his handsome face.

“Ok, I guess you win,” Taehyung relented with a smirk. “I’ll pack Tannie’s things as well. Let me call my sister and cancel the sitter. I will forward you my travel itinerary as soon as that’s done. I love you, I miss you, and I will see you tomorrow, babe.”

“Same,” you replied joyfully. “Please be careful and get some rest. I know how cranky you get when you don’t get enough sleep.”

Taehyung stuck his tongue out at you like a petulant child and then made a goofy face into the camera. You made an equally funny face and then you both blew each other kisses and ended the call. He had a lot of packing to do, and you had to prepare for his arrival.

This is unbelievably wonderful. I never would have expected my break to go as well as this.

March 19th, 6:17am

You parked your car and dashed inside the airport lobby. You were supposed to meet Taehyung in Baggage Claim to help him with his bags and with Yeontan. The little fur ball was pint sized, but he was also fierce.

You spotted Taehyung’s silky waves under a hunter green beret near the middle of the baggage claim area. Once you were close enough, you noticed he was struggling to keep Yeontan calm and quiet as the carousel started moving.

“Sir, you need to control your dog,” you chided in a nasally pretentious voice. “Don’t make me call security.”

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung sputtered, not looking up. “I promise he’s actually really sweet, but he’s just really excited right now. He’s seeing his aunt for the first time in years.”

Taehyung spun around abruptly and shoved an ecstatic yapping Yeontan into your arms and then leaned in to place a fat kiss on your cheek. You gaped at his playful grin and shot him a knowing smile while Yeontan placed numerous kisses to your face.

“You knew it was me, huh?” you giggled, giving Yeontan a few kisses in return. “Sneaky Tae-Bear.”

He shrugged and wandered off to grab his bags from the carousel. You placated Yeontan and waited patiently as Taehyung rolled three suitcases over to you. Once you got everything packed into the car, including Yeontan strapped into the dog car seat, Taehyung lifted you around your waist and spun you around joyfully. Once he lowered your feet to the ground, you stayed wrapped in his bear hug on the verge of tears.

“Tae,” you breathed out shakily. “I really missed you.”

His arms tightened around your waist and he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“I missed you too,” Taehyung sighed sadly. “Let’s never let this much time pass without seeing each other. I didn’t realize how empty I felt, darling, until I held you in my arms.”

You chuckled at his dramatics and pulled away to look at his face. His mischievous smirk was fully loaded complete with a lifted eyebrow and you shook your head at his antics.

“Drama queen,” you joked.

“Hey,” he shrugged. “It’s the reason you gave me the middle name Elizabeth.”

You hurried home to get Yeontan settled in with Oberyn and Taehyung situated in your guest room. Once everything was unpacked and set, you ordered Thai food delivery for lunch so you and Taehyung could catch up while the boys played around the apartment.

“I really like your place,” Taehyung commented with a mouthful of Pad Thai. “It’s smaller than mine, but the setup is so much better.”

“How do you do that?” you asked in a pout. “How is it possible for you to compliment and insult my apartment in the same sentence?”

“Just talented, I guess,” he grinned while stealing a spoonful of your Tom Yum soup. “Speaking of talent, what hot stud did you have over recently, you little minx?”

You felt a rush of blood creep across your cheeks and ears at that last comment.

How the fuck does he know?

“What are you talking about, Tae?” you muttered nonchalantly while clearing your throat. “What makes you think that I had anyone over?”

“Well, I happened to notice the condom wrapper and used condom in the trash can in your bathroom,” Taehyung mused. “Someone had a big guest to entertain, didn’t they?”?”

You nearly choked on the Thai tea you were drinking, and Taehyung was damned lucky you didn’t do a spit take all over his expensive looking vintage clothes. After you recovered from your near death experience, you glared at the smug look on his face. He was chomping away happily on yet another spring roll and he paused to waggle his eyebrows at you and grin.

“Sooooo,” he drawled. “Who was it? Anyone special or just a rando from the bar?”

You hesitated. Taehyung would remember Jungkook. How could he not? You were constantly raving about Jungkook’s adorable bunny smile, his rippling muscles, the beautiful mole under his lip that you wanted to kiss every time you saw him. As you were debating the issue in your head, Taehyung picked up on your hesitation and scooted closer to you on the couch.

“It’s someone I know, isn’t it?” he assumed correctly. “C’mon, soulmate, dish me them dirty deets. I won’t judge.”

“Uh, yeah, you will,” you shot back in defiance. “You always judge, Tae.”

“Well, yeah, ok,” he admitted. “But I promise it will stay between us. Pinky promise!”

He stuck out his pinky and your heart fluttered with elation.

The pinky promise…

After the Great Soulmate Debate of 5th grade, you and Taehyung developed a signature “Ultimate Soulmate Handshake” that started with a linking of your pinkies. You lifted your eyes to meet his challenging gaze and you knew that he was testing the true strength of your relationship with his little gesture. You smirked at him and linked your pinky with his own, and you both stood up to do the proper handshake.

What followed was an overly complicated ballet of fingers, palms, and ridiculously dated dance moves ending with you jumping into his arms and you both striking a pose. Almost a decade had passed since you’d both completed these actions, yet it seemed like only yesterday you were sealing some kind of deal or promise with the Ultimate Soulmate Handshake.

Taehyung wrapped his arms around you once again and twirled you around the living room. Both of you were giggling like idiots, and you could not remember when you ever felt so happy. Taehyung truly was the other half of your soul, and you didn’t realize how much you missed him until that exact moment. Your giggles morphed into a quiet sob, and Taehyung quickly lowered you when he felt the atmosphere between you shift.

“Awww, babe, don’t cry,” he pleaded while wiping away your tears. “Why are you crying?”

“I just realized how much I’ve missed you, Tae-bear,” you sniffled. “It’s been too long.”

“Oh, honey,” he cooed while pulling you closer. “I know, believe me. I feel it too. I definitely feel like you were the thing that was missing in my life. Come here, baby, let’s dry those tears.”

Taehyung pulled you into the kitchen and grabbed a paper towel from the counter. He dabbed at your tears until you pulled the napkin away to clean up your face and blow your nose unceremoniously into it. He grimaced playfully at your actions and then pulled you close so he could kiss your forehead. You walked around the counter to toss the used paper towel in the trash and turned to find Taehyung looking curiously at the box you’d left on the counter.

“What’s this?” he asked in wonder. “It’s beautiful. Look at the embellishments on the feet and the resin lacquered over the collage. Did you make this, babe?”

“No, I found it in my closet,” you said. “I don’t know where it came from. It’s not mine.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” he quipped. “This totally screams your name. Look at those stickers, these colors, and that handwriting. How is this not your box?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I think I would remember making something like this, Tae. I honestly have no idea what it is.”

“What’s inside?” he asked while lifting the lid. “Hey! My hamburger!”

Taehyung lifted out the small plastic hamburger toy and his boxy smile made a sudden appearance on his glowing face. As bright as his smile was, your confusion was matching it in intensity.

“What do you mean your hamburger?'' you questioned carefully.

Taehyung’s smile dropped and transformed into utter disbelief.

“You don’t remember?!” he shrieked. “Are you fucking kidding me?! How dare you?!”

Taehyung stomped off in the direction of your bedroom and you followed him, still perplexed by this mystery hamburger toy that brought both joy and anger to your soulmate.

You walked into your room and found Taehyung digging into the bowels of his suitcase. A few perfectly folded articles of clothing flew over his shoulders and you caught them in midair. You were just setting them on the bed when Taehyung screeched and startled you into a sitting position. He rounded on you and held up the hamburger toy and another small toy resembling a strawberry milkshake.

“딸기/ttalgi (strawberry),” he stated simply. “That was what I started calling you after you spilled that milkshake on my head after our first fight, remember? I said it was superior to apple, even though you refuse to accept it. In fact, I’m bringing it back because it totally suits you.``

The confusion on your face evaporated as the memory came hurtling back to you. You brought your hands up to cover your mouth and your eyes widened at the revelation.

“Holy shit,” you murmured. “I haven’t thought about that in years. What was that fight even about anyway?”

“It was over that Japanese girl we both wanted to date in 4th grade,” he reminded you. “The one who had the bright red hair, what was her name?”

“Oh yeah,” you drawled. “Asuka. She was beautiful, just like a cherry blossom petal falling from the sky.”

“A little cliche, but ok,” Taehyung chuckled. “But yes, her. We were at that burger place and we saw her. You told me you were going to ask her out and I got mad because I wanted to ask her out. We fought and ended up throwing food at each other.”

You blushed at the memory and tried to hide your face. It was so embarrassing to think about how immature you used to be.

“Sorry, Tae-bear,” you apologized. “I don’t even remember what you said that made me so angry.”

It was Taehyung’s turn to flush awkwardly. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and huffed out a sigh.

“I, uh,” he stuttered. “I said that you couldn’t ask Asuka out because you were a girl.”

“Oh snap,” you gasped. “You did say that, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly. “We were in 4th grade, babe. We didn’t know shit about sexuality back then. You just knew you liked both genders and I refused to believe that was possible.”

“That was until senior year when you met that percussion guy from marching band,” you scoffed. “What was his name? Kai?”

“Oh, Kai,” Taehyung reminisced fondly. “The pretty one who got away. He was adorable.”

Taehyung shook the memory away and lifted the toys again, determined to finish his story. He kneeled in front of you, leaning his forearms on your thighs for balance.

“After Asuka turned us both down, we were left filthy and heartbroken,” he continued. “Your shirt stained from the hamburger I threw at you and me covered in sticky strawberry milkshake. We made up in the parking lot and bought each other prizes from the bubble machine inside the lobby. Ironically, these were the prizes we got. I kept the burger and you kept the milkshake.”

He handed you the toys and you cradled them against your chest.

That was such a long time ago. My, how things have changed.

“Before we moved, we swapped toys,” he murmured, his voice thick with melancholy. “It was like our special soulmate talisman. I was you and you were me.”

You both looked at each other with misty eyes and failed to stifle the sniffles coming from your noses. The memory of your first real separation haunted both of you still. That day was agonizing for both of you, realizing that you may never be close to each other again. Almost two decades had passed and the wounds still felt so fresh. It only worsened when his parents moved back into town the year you and Taehyung left for college.

Oh, the irony…

“Oh, Tae,” you croaked. “I’m so sorry.”

You lurched forward and encircled his neck with your arms. He held you in his tender embrace and you both rode out the outpouring of emotion leaking from your faces. It dawned on you that neither of you ever really dealt with the separation, choosing to remain mute about the whole thing and pretend it never existed. In reality, it did exist, and it almost broke the both of you. Through carefully placed visits and outreach, you’d managed to keep the friendship bound haphazardly with metaphorical glue and tape, but it was never the same. You both had some real damage control to conduct, and maybe this was your opportunity to do so.

You pulled back and brushed your fingertips along Taehyung’s tear streaked cheeks and planted a fat kiss on his lips. Displays of affection were completely natural for the two of you, and it was established long ago that any emotional baggage that came along with it was just another piece of your soulmate bond.

“We’re both idiots,” you laughed against his lips. “You know that, right?”

Taehyung returned your laughter and your kiss, palming your cheeks to squish your face playfully.

“Come on,” he sighed. “Let’s get off the floor. I didn’t fly all the way over here to cry on the floor with my soulmate.”

You both huffed out a little laugh as you got up off the floor. You wandered back into the kitchen hand in hand after cleaning your faces with makeup wipes. Once you made it back to the box, Taehyung placed both hamburger and milkshake toys on the counter next to the box and proceeded to investigate the other items in the box. He lined up the other items next to your toys and then pulled out the folded piece of parchment. His interest was definitely piqued because you saw his eyes light up like flying saucers in the night sky.

“Whoa,” he breathed out in amazement. “What is this?”

He carefully unfolded the paper and spread it across the counter. You sat on one of your bar stools next to him and leaned on the counter. You hadn’t spent much time investigating the paper since the first day you discovered it.

“This is incredible,” he said, his voice heavy with excitement. “The parchment is well worn, which means it’s pretty old. Look at these colors, this calligraphy is amazing, and the brushstrokes are gorgeous. Where did you find this map, babe?”

“I already told you,” you repeated. “I don’t know where it came from. I found it in my closet. How do you know it’s a map?”

“It has all the characteristics of a map, the checkpoints, the layout, the design,” Taehyung explained. “Don’t you remember when I was collecting all those maps in junior high?”

“Oh yeah,” you drawled. “You became obsessed after we watched The Goonies and you were convinced that we would find treasure somehow.”

“Hey,” he insisted. “We found some really cool stuff with my Dad’s metal detector, remember?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “We also found out about trespassing on private property and that it’s illegal to dig holes on government property and-.”

“Regardless,” Taehyung cut you off. “I know what I’m talking about and this map is really fucking cool. How are you not excited about this?”

“Honestly,” you sighed. “It kinda freaks me out. I don’t know who made it or where it came from and that bothers me.”

“Well, that’s why you have me, your own personal map expert and detective,” Taehyung bragged. “So, all of this random stuff was inside that box? There wasn’t anything else?”

“Well, almost everything,” you began. “There was a banana key chain USB, but it was Jungkook’s. He traded this four leaf clover necklace for it.”

You immediately regretted the words as soon as they left your lips. Taehyung’s face registered the name “Jungkook” as familiar, and you knew the instant he connected the dots.

“Oh shit,” he teased. “Jeon fucking Jungkook, that hot guy you tutored in college? That’s the stud you had over?! Damn, boy must be packing some heat!”

You buried your face in your arms and tried to hide from his incessant mockery.

Of course, he would remember.

“Stop,” you pleaded. “It was totally random and unplanned. I went out with Gina for St. Patty’s and I bumped into him at the bar. One thing lead to another and, well-“

“You had a midnight snack of Kookie and milk?” Taehyung suggested, lifting the clover. “You got lucky?”

You smacked his arm and he winced from the impact. You tried to stay mad at him, but his lips dropped to a pout and he started fake crying.

This boy…

“That isn’t going to work on me, Tae,” you said sternly. “Not gonna happen.”

His fake sobbing increased and he kept giving you the sad puppy dog look. When you saw an actual tear gloss over his cheek, you sighed and walked over to kiss his arm. He kept pouting until you finally gave in and kissed his lips. You both smiled at each other, and you rolled your eyes at your overly dramatic soulmate.

“Why does that always work on me?” you whined. “It isn’t fair.”

“What isn’t fair is that you traded a USB drive for this cheap plastic clover necklace,” Taehyung argued. “I mean it does light up, but it probably wasn’t an even exchange. Was the sex just that good?”

“If we’re factoring that into the equation,” you blushed fiercely. “Yes, it was most definitely an even exchange. In fact, I may owe him.”

“I am going to need a full detailed report later, babe,” Taehyung announced. “But for now, I want to talk about this map. Tell me what you know about it.”

“Not much,” you admitted. “I just know that there are seven smudges with words next to them and then there’s that big swirly heart thing connecting everything together.”

“Six smudges,” Taehyung corrected. “And why are some of these lines darker than the others?”

“What are you talking about?” you huffed. “I counted them. There are seven smudges.”

You finally took a closer look at the map and you gawked at the absence of one of the previous smudges from your earlier inspection.

What the hell?

“That can’t be right,” you whispered. “I know I counted seven.”

You pointed at the space where the first smudge had been. In its place was another block of text connected to the first block of text with a flourish of swirled ink. The text now read:

Were you wandering around looking for an erased dream too? It’s different from the typical definition of destiny. Your pained eyes are looking at the same place as me. Won't you please stay in dreams?

One time for the present, two time for the past, Happy that we met each other, now til’ the very end.

You traced your fingers over the new block of text and your brows furrowed in confusion.

That definitely wasn’t there before.

You also noticed the darkened line of ink running between the blocks of text. You traced its path across the page to the next block of text. This block read:

The heart no longer races when hearing the music play, Seems like time has stopped. Oh, that would be my first death I been always afraid of. If this can no longer resonate, No longer make my heart vibrate, Then like this may be how I die my first death, But what if that moment's right now?

The charcoal smudge was on the other side of the line, which abruptly faded as it neared the cryptic verse. You continued to trace the line across the page while Taehyung examined the lacquered box again.

“Hey, ttalgi,” Taehyung asked. “Why does this word have glitter around it but the others don’t?”

You looked up at him and focused on the word Time he was pointing out on the box. There was indeed a double line of purple glitter surrounding the letters that certainly wasn’t there before. You sighed in exasperation at this new information.

What the hell am I getting myself into with this box and this map?

“I don’t know, Tae,” you sulked. “It probably doesn’t mean anything.”

“How can you say that when something belonging to Jungkook and something belonging to me came out of it?” Tae quirked. “You’re doing that thing where something gets complicated and you just want to walk away, aren’t you? This is the Chinese puzzle box all over again.”

“Tae,” you whined. “Please don’t bring that up again. I was tortured enough with you hovering over me until I opened the stupid thing.”

“It was worth it though, right?” he insisted. “What was inside the puzzle box, baby?”

“This,” you pouted, holding up your right hand. “My soulmate promise ring and I’ve worn it every day since then.”

“Maybe this map is going to lead to something amazing,” Taehyung suggested. “I’m already invested in solving this mystery. I just need a trusty sidekick to help me along the way. What do you say, soulmate? Want to help your Tae-bear solve the Legendary Spring Break Map Mystery?”

“Why does everything you name have to be named like that?” you scoffed. “Naming something Great or Legendary doesn’t automatically make it awesome, y’know?”

“Well, not with that attitude,” Taehyung argued. “If you want, I can lay everything out so it isn’t so scary for you. It’ll be just like the detectives on TV with the boards and the Post-Its and stuff. You don’t have to set anything up, I’ll do it and then you can decide whether you are in or not.”

You briefly weighed your options and decided that any adventure with Taehyung was worth exploring. It wasn’t like you had anything else to do during this break, and you couldn’t deny that the map wasn’t igniting your curiosity. Apparently, Taehyung’s enthusiasm was taking root in your mind.

“Fine,” you sighed out dramatically. “But if this ends up going badly, I’m going to beat your ass.”

Taehyung squeaked enthusiastically and started setting up an investigation station on your coffee table. After he procured paper, pencils, and other office supplies from your desk, he laid everything out and started marking items of interest with colorful Post-It notes.

“What am I supposed to do while you’re playing Detective, Tae?” you asked indignantly. “Just sit here and look pretty?”

Taehyung looked up with a marker and a stack of purple Post-Its in his hands. He grinned and wrote something on the Post-It and walked over to place it on your forehead.

“There,” he beamed. “Now, you’re officially part of the investigation. Now, make yourself useful, dollface, and get me something to drink.”

You removed the paper from your forehead and read what he’d written and immediately scowled. You crumpled the paper and threw it at his retreating figure.

“I’m not your secretary, Taehyung,” you growled. “And call me dollface again and not only will I make you a pot of tea, I’ll pour it in your lap.”

Taehyung giggled and scrunched his nose at you while he attached the map to the wall with thumbtacks. You watched him scurry back and forth, continuously making notes and labeling portions of the map, and you shook your head and sighed heavily.

What am I getting myself into?

March 19th, 3:27pm

“Ok, it’s ready,” Taehyung announced. “Come check it out, babe!”

Taehyung swept his hand across the living room and presented a color coordinated layout of seven different investigation stations. You tried to track his organization, but got a little lost as your eyes scanned the living room.

“Ummm,” you began. “What exactly am I looking at here, Tae? You need to explain the method behind this madness I see.”

“It starts over here,” Taehyung proceeded to explain, pulling you to the far left of the room to a purple hued collection of Post-It notes. “I’ve divided up the map into seven distinct sections and separated them by color. I think the items you found correspond to these sections, but I don’t know how yet.”

“What makes you think they have any connection at all?” you queried. “Did you find something else?”

“No,” Taehyung continued. “But there are seven different sections on the map, seven different items, and seven different words on that box. That has to mean something. The words also seem to coordinate somehow. That section with two blocks of text mentions time and the word Time on the box is the only word with glitter. That seems to be a connection.”

“Ok, but what about the items?” you challenged. “How are they connected?”

Taehyung lifted a finger and started to speak, but then deflated. He put one hand on his hip and blew out a breath. He was stuck.

“I haven’t figured that out yet,” he admitted. “I was hoping you could help me with that.”

“How?” you wondered aloud. “I know about as much as you do about this stuff.”

“Well,” he began. “You said that the only item missing from the original collection was that banana USB, right?”

“Yeah, but it was Jungkook’s,” you reminded him. “He took it and gave me that shamrock necklace. What about it?”

“I think that’s a clue,” he decided. “I also found my hamburger toy in there, and I’m trading back for the milkshake toy. That’s two items from the original set that are being traded out for something in return.”

You rolled that around your brain and found that it surprisingly made sense, even if it was a little far-fetched.

It can’t just be a coincidence.

“Say they are connected somehow,” you relented. “What would be the connection?”

“I have a theory,” Taehyung expressed with a smirk. “But I need you to go along with it because it sounds a little nuts.”

“You know I always give in to your crazy schemes, Tae,” you chuckled. “Why would this be any different?”

“Good point,” he grinned. “Ok, so, here’s the thing. I think you are the key to all of this. The box, the map, the items, everything.”

You stare at him without blinking and slowly digest his statement.

That’s impossible.

“How could I be the connection?” you probed. “I didn’t make this box or the map and none of this stuff belongs to me.”

“Exactly,” Taehyung reiterated. “They don’t belong to you, but they are connected to something that does belong to you.”

“What do you mean?” you continued. “Is this about the hamburger toy?”

“Yes,” he exclaimed. “And also the USB you found. You said it belonged to Jungkook, right? He gave you the shamrock necklace in trade and now that’s part of the collection, but it actually belongs to you now.”

“Yeah,” you assented. “But what does that mean, Tae?”

“Maybe it’s symbolic?” Taehyung suggested. “Like you two had to make the exchange so it could be complete?”

“What exchange?” you asked. “You mean the banana or the sex?”

“Both,” Taehyung insisted. “Two things could be true. You guys traded information and bodily fluids. Bet you’d both been thinking about doing that since college, huh?”

“Yeah, actually,” you giggled. “We just never found the right time.”

“Time!” Taehyung screeched suddenly. “That’s it!”

He reached over to grab the box and he pointed out the word Time on the box surrounded by purple glitter.

“Time,” you echoed softly. “You’re right. Jungkook and I even talked about how often we kept missing opportunities because the timing was never in our favor.”

“Well, time was absolutely in your favor when you ran into each other at the bar,” Taehyung insisted. “You said it yourself: unplanned and random, almost like it was-“

“Destiny,” you cut him off, moving to reread the text in question. “We had been dreaming about each other, looking at the same things, all those unanswered questions finally answered.”

“You told me that this wasn’t here earlier,” Taehyung stated, pointing at the second block of text he’d marked with a purple Post-It marked with a JK. “It’s here now. I think this text, this word on the box, and the shamrock-banana exchange are all connected to you and Jungkook. It all makes sense.”

“But why?” you murmured softly. “For what reason?”

“Let me ask you something,” Taehyung said, sitting you both down on the couch. “After all of this happened with Jungkook, how do you feel?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I mean, I thought it might lead somewhere, but he said he’s not ready for anything serious right now.”

“Not the right time?” Taehyung smirked. “And yet, you aren’t crushed by this shocking news. Why do you think that is?”

“I get it,” you explained. “I’ve been there before. Remember when I was dating Hoseok? I felt the same way, I wasn’t ready for something that serious even though he was. That’s why we ended it.”

“Oh yeah, Hobi-hyung,” Taehyung remembered fondly. “I liked that guy. It’s too bad that didn’t work out. You were so happy with him.”

“I was,” you sighed. “But I was young and selfish. I wasn’t ready to share my life with anyone yet.”

“And neither is Jungkook,” Taehyung pressed on. “Do you still have any lingering doubts about what might have been with him? I know that’s been bothering you for years. Don’t think I didn’t notice all those wispy sighs and pouts whenever his name entered the conversation. I don’t see any of that now though. Maybe you finally got the closure you needed with Jungkook.”

“Yeah, I did,” you smiled softly, grabbing the shamrock necklace labeled Exhibit A from the table. “I just got lucky, I guess.”

“In more ways than one, you minx,” Taehyung teased. “But you can tell me all about that later because I have another theory to toss at you.”

Taehyung pulled you over to a collection of green Post-Its and pointed out the hamburger and milkshake toys labeled “Exhibits B & C.” You nearly choked on the giggle threatening to escape from your lips, but you offered your soulmate a reassuring smile instead.

“If the purple section is Jungkook,” Taehyung began. “Then this green section is all about you and me. The toys fit into that theory, but I don’t know which word and block of text connect to them.”

“Assuming that’s true,” you retorted. “What unfinished business could you and I possibly have? I mean, we literally share everything with one another. We don’t have any secrets, Tae-bear.”

“That’s true,” he agreed. “But maybe we’re overlooking something. I’m trying to figure out which block of text would best describe us, and I can’t figure it out. It certainly isn’t the next one on the path.”

He pointed out the second block of text following the section he’d labeled JK. The words “music” and “death” kept swirling in your vision, and you felt a creeping tingle down your spine.

There’s only one person that could be.

Your phone dinged across the room, and you snapped out of your reverie momentarily. Leaving Taehyung to ruminate over the cryptic clues laid out before him, you picked up your phone and read the email notification you’d just received from work. As soon as you read the Subject line, you gasped and dropped your phone on the floor. The clatter captured Taehyung’s attention and he glanced up at your face and noticed the drain of color on your paled expression.

“Ttalgi?” he worried. “Is everything ok?”

You shook your head and tried to keep the tears from slipping from your eyes. Taehyung quickly made his way across the room and pulled you into his arms, trying to soothe the unknown pain away. He didn’t know what was going on, but he instinctively knew that you needed someone to hold you together.

“What happened?” he whispered against your hair. “What’s wrong?”

“I know who it is,” you croaked out. “I know who that block of text is talking about.”

You leaned down to pick up your phone and you showed him the email you’d just received. Taehyung’s eyes widened and then darkened considerably when he read it. He couldn’t control the growl which clawed its way out of his throat.

“Min fucking Yoongi.”

Author’s Note: The plot is thickening, y’all. What do you guys think of my Tae-bear? Isn’t he something else? The story is really going to take off from here, so I hope everyone is ready for an adventure. Please fee free to ask me any questions or leave any comments. I’d love to hear what you think of the story so far.

Chapter One: There’s Always Time for Euphoria

Chapter Three: The Beautiful Music We Used to Make

Map of the Soul Masterlist

@caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma‘s MASTERLIST

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thatonedonut · 5 years

Text

So Easy- Han Jisung

Genre: angst

Warnings: Mentions of suicide and depression

summary: After being on tour, Jisung returns, however- little does he know, you’ve been having problems of your own

It had been three weeks since you got out of bed for something other than food and using the bathroom. Dust formed on your desk and nightstand, not bothering you in the slightest as you have lost the desire to keep a clean apartment. Strands of your greasy hair fall against your forehead as you sit up and gaze towards your phone, sitting on the pillow beside you. Sliding your finger across the dirty screen, you see notifications from every app visible. Once again, ignoring the texts and calls from your friends who haven’t seen you in months, you tap on the news icon. Blinking a few times, your vision adjusts to an article, making your eyes tear up, “Stray Kids to return to Korean next week.” Your heart burns, seeing the picture below it. The boys smiling on stage with their microphones in hand. Signs from thousands of fans could be seen in the background. Your eyes scan the picture until you find him, on the far left, Jisung. You don’t realize you’ve been crying until the collar of your shirt is soaked with salty liquid. He is coming back. After almost 6 months on tour, he is coming back home. Will you be able to see him? Does he still think about you? You shake your head to get rid of the thoughts that have haunted you for 5 months.

—————————————————————

Flashback

“Y/N!”, Jisung yells from down the hallway as you enter the JYP building. He runs towards you, arms open, and wraps them around you. You laugh when he snuggles his face into your neck, picking you up, and spinning you around. “What is so important that you called me here for?”, you giggle. “Come!”, he grabs your wrist and practically drags you into the studio, and slams the door. You sit on the small black sofa and wait for him to speak. He turns towards you, getting on his knees in between your legs and snaking his hands to your thighs. He looks you deep in your eyes as you wait nervously. After a few moments, he breaks into a gummy smile, “We are going on tour”, he announces. You jump up from your seat, nearly knocking him over with excitement, “Really? That’s so great!” He hugs you, giving you pecks on your cheeks. Still in his embrace, you mumble, “For how long?” He pulls away slightly, giving an unknown expression, “A year.” You maintain eye contact, neither of you knowing what to say next. You give a sad, half smile before breaking the silence, “I’m happy for you.”

A month goes by since he left. You text everyday and call once a week. He tells you about the interviews and talk shows. You listen intently, wanting to hear his voice as much as possible. “y/n?”, he says into the phone. You come down from your thoughts, “yes?” He chuckles as your daydreaming, “I have to go now okay?” You nod your head and he hangs up. The next few calls became less frequent, soon you began only texting once in awhile. Things just weren’t the same, he was busy and barely had time to bat an eye in your direction. Two weeks later, sitting on the kitchen counter, eating Korean beef and rice, you decide to pick up your phone. Going into text messages and scrolling all the way to the bottom, you see his name and click. Not knowing how to start a conversation after this long, you type, “Hey.” To your surprise, he answers right away, “Hey y/n.” Your heart races despite not being in his direct presence. He was the only person who could make you feel this way even after years of knowing him. You inhale as you prepare yourself for your next move. Hands shaking, you attempt to type once more, “I think I want us to take a break.” Sent. Anxiety overcomes you hearing the clock on the wall tick. Minutes go by until your phone makes a boop sound. Prepared to explain yourself, you tap the new unread message, “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. For awhile now, actually.” Your heart shatters and your plate drops on the floor, crashing as glass scatters itself throughout the kitchen.

—————————————————————

Present

Hearing the news of his return, you get up for the first time to be productive, and make your way to the bathroom. Looking at yourself in the mirror, dirty, oily, greasy. You haven’t showered in weeks, not feeling the need to. In the mirror, you glance at your arms, full of cuts and bruises from god knows when. Your phone vibrates in the pocket of your lose sweatpants. Unknown number. Trying to compose yourself, you answer the phone with a groggy “Hello?” Your eyes shoot open, “y/n?” That voice you recognize. That was the voice that used to sing you to sleep every night, tell you how beautiful you are, whisper how much he loves you. You stand, stunned. “Y/n? Are you there?” “Yeah”, you could barely push out. “I’m guessing you’ve heard.” You nod, knowing he can sense your movements through the phone. He sighs, “I want to see you. Will you let me?” Your legs begin to shake with dizziness. After deleting his number, blocking him on all social media, and refusing to pick up calls from any of the other boys, he somehow found a way to talk to you despite not wanting to 5 months ago. What seems like minutes pass by before you place and phone closer to your face, “okay.”

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moody-by-nature · 5 years

Text

Rescue Me | Chapter Twenty-Two

AN: Hey all, sorry for the weird format of this chapter, I’m away from my laptop but didn’t want to make you all want any longer than necessary. I hope you enjoy the new chapter! Xx

Andrea's eyes lifted slowly, sleepily gazing out the bedroom window. Laying flat on her tummy, she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Normally she would wake up in Jared's embrace.

Turning her head to the left, she chuckled quietly seeing Jared sound asleep in the same position. His head was half-buried under the pillow, but she could hear a faint snore. Pride surged through her veins thinking their night of really hot sex had thoroughly worn him out.

Pushing up on to her hands and knees, Andrea eased off the bed, her muscles screaming at her in protest. Jared's flannel shirt from the night before caught her eye, reaching for it, she slipped her arms into it and walked into the living area.

As she sat down, her fingers grasped the thick card-stock menu laying on the coffee table. After deciding what she wanted to order for their breakfast, Andrea phoned the front desk and placed their order.

She read through multiple notifications, wishing her a happy birthday, upcoming events and quickly scrolled through social media. Her eyes cast down her body at the remnants of colorful wax against her light olive skin.

A devious smirk played at her lips as she opened the camera. Positioning herself so the morning light pouring into the quiet room from the terrace danced on her skin perfectly and snapped a photo to save for when moody Jared surfaced.

Sneaking back into the bedroom, Andrea pulled a her fluffy robe from the closet, slipping it on and tying it closed. A smile crept over her face as she watched Jared's sleeping form briefly before heading back out of their room.

After the food was delivered, Andrea removed her robe. Pushing the cart into the bedroom, she uncovered the food and gently sat next to Jared.

Tickling her fingers softly up his sides, Andrea peppered butterfly kisses across Jared's shoulders.

"Wake up, sleepyhead, breakfast is here."

When Jared didn't move, Andrea carefully crawled over him, lying on her side to face him. Gently nudging his shoulder, she lifted her hand to push the pillow off his head.

"Hey, handsome," she said softly, kissing his muscular arm, "are you hungry?"

Just as she pushed the pillow away and lifted her eyes, Jared was staring back at her. The devilish grin on his face made her tummy flip, distracting her just long enough for Jared to pounce.

Pushing her onto her back, Jared hovered over her body. Slowly lowering his mouth to hers, his breath, warm on her lips. Their eyes locked, "I am hungry, baby. Hungry for you." He muttered, seizing her lips with his.

"Our pancakes are getting cold." Andrea muttered against his lips as she bit into Jared's bottom lip and grinned hearing him hiss.

"Mmm, pancakes." Planting another kiss on her lips, Jared sat up, reaching over to pull the food cart closer. Surveying the assorted fruits, jams, and syrup; Jared picked up a butter knife, slicing into the peanut butter and swiping it over a plate of pancakes.

Andrea smiled watching him. Her heart swelling at the realization that he paid more attention to her quirks than she realized.

"For you, my love." Jared said sweetly, offering her the plate he had prepared.

"Thanks, babe." Andrea smiled, kissing him sweetly.

Andie watched Jared shove bite after bite into his mouth; her mouth watering at the sight of his tongue darting across his lower lip to collect the syrup at the corner of his mouth.

Jared lifted his eyes from his plate and caught Andrea staring. His gaze fell down her body to her partially exposed breasts, still sprinkled with colorful wax. He felt a pull low in his tummy as memories from last night whirled through his mind.

Dragging his fork through the remaining puddle of syrup, he lifted his hand, quickly bringing it toward Andrea's chest, smearing the sticky goop all over her skin.

"Oops. Let me clean that up." Jared mumbled, tossing his plate on the table, latching his mouth to Andreas breast.

Andrea moaned, reaching up, pulling Jared flush against her, she wrapped her slender legs around his waist and fell back into her pillow.

+++

Back in Los Angeles, the next two weeks flew by. Andrea was so happy to be back in her own home she lovingly referred to as her treehouse. Standing at the kitchen island, placing her dinner plate in the sink and decided to pour herself a glass of wine to enjoy when she heard a knock on her balcony door.

A smile instantly graced her face knowing it was her handsome boyfriend. However, when she glanced up, her eyes fell on a visibly stressed Jared. His body language screamed trouble, his shoulders stiff, his jaw rigid.

Rushing to open the door, she opened her arms hugging him tightly. "What is it babe?" She asked worriedly, pulling back just enough to look up into Jared's concerned eyes. Andrea gently smoothed his furrowed eyebrows with her thumb and cupped his cheek, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"It's Shannon." Jared answered softly.

"Is he okay?"

"Physically, yes. I've just been downtown and bailed him out of jail." Defeat registering in his tone.

"Sit, I'll be right back." Andrea stated, motioning to the small outdoor sofa on her wooden balcony. Turning back into her home, she grabbed a blanket, and two waters, dumping the wine down the drain before joining Jared.

Sitting next to him, Andrea leaned forward setting their water down. Lighting the candles on the small table, she covered their legs with the blanket and settled in, knowing he would talk when he was ready; she grabbed his hand, absentmindedly rubbing his arm and waited patiently.

"He isn't allowed to leave the country." Jared started, "What the fuck am I supposed to do without him on tour? He's my best friend!" he exclaimed, "I can't cancel the tour, we leave in two days! But the thought of performing all of those shows without him... Andie," Jared turned towards her, his ocean eyes full of questions and uncertainty. "What do I do without him? He's my big brother."

Andrea wrapped her arms around Jared, pulling him close. Her heart ached for him, for Shannon, who she loved like a big brother. Aching to be closer, Jared slid his hands down her body, gripping her hips, pulling her into his lap. He lay his head on her chest, burrowing into her as far as he could.

Without Shannon, typically the only person he turned to was their mother. He felt a new connection to the beautiful woman sitting in his lap. The way she didn't push him to talk, she just patiently waited for him to open up to her. As he sat there snuggled into her, he didn't know what he'd done to deserve someone so perfect for him, so sweet; but he was thankful and planned to make sure she knew he felt lucky she was his to love.

"You can do this J. I know you probably don't want to, and it won't be easy, but you can." Andrea squeezed him even further against her body, rubbing her hand down his back as she kissed the top of his head. She knew he was strong and kept his walls up high just as she did; so the fact that he came to her meant a great deal to her.

"Tell me what you need from me, babe." Andrea asked, sitting back on Jared's lap far enough to look down on to his face. She pushed his long hair behind his ears and smiled.

Jared's big eyes stared up in to hers, "I have an idea. I want to make something to represent Shannon while he's away but I need some things."

"Give me a list and I'll get them for you."

+++

"That turned out really cool, boss man!" Shayla said as she entered Jared's dressing room. Andrea stood next to him with the gold crown Chloe had sent along, his dark aviators in her hand and a bottle of his favorite water tucked in her elbow.

Jared smoothed the white lab coat over his shoulders, turning the small lapels out to reveal Shannon's signature lightening bolt S drawn repeatedly down the left lapel in yellow. The sides, sleeves and back of the lab coat were sporadically covered Jared's 'Bart art' doodles.

"Thanks, Shayla." He replied shortly. Taking the crown from Andrea, he placed it on his head and then took the cap off his water, chugging half the bottle.

Shayla exchanged a knowing look with Andrea as she left the room. Jared sighed heavily, "Fuck, I need to apologize to her for being short."

"She knows you're stressed out, J." Andrea replied, wrapping her arms around his chest and laying her head on his back. Jared brought her hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

Walking down the venues hallway, Andrea watched in awe as Jared's demeanor completely change. Gone was the man missing his big brother. Now he stood with the perfect showman's mask, ready to entertain his adoring family, The Echelon.

The backstage area was bustling. Crew members checking things over for the hundredth time. Tomo stretching, Stevie already pumped up and jumping around like a wild man; the sight making Andrea giggle.

"Okay, babe, go do your thing! I'm going to go help Shay corral the kids for side of stage." Leaning in, she spoke softly into his ear, "I like you a lot."

"Like me a lot?" A confused look flashed across his face for a moment until it connected. She was trying to tell him 'I love you' while in mixed company. Jared smiled and booped her nose.

“I like you too, Ace.” He winked.

Watching from the side of the stage, Andreas eyes kept drifting from her boyfriend to where Shannon’s kit should be. The stage looked so big without his presence. Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled her cell phone out and sent Shannon a text.

“We miss you Bear. How are you holding up?”

“Miss you too, Dee. How’s he holding up?”

“He’s typical Jared, brave faced to most.”

“I’ll do better this time, I promise.”

“Just keep fighting Shan. Fight for yourself. We’ve got your back. Last song is coming up, I’ve gotta go. Love you, Bear!”

+++

Two days later, two shows without Shannon down, and too many more to go; Jared sat on the edge of their hotel bed watching Andie get dressed. It was a much needed day off and all he wanted to do was spend the day with his girl.

He watched her fasten her bra and turn toward him, walking up to the bed. Jared picked up the dress she intended to wear, pulling it behind his back.

“I can’t go out in public like this, give me my dress, punk!”

Grabbing her hips, Jared pulled her between his legs and placed random kisses across her rib cage. He wanted to ravage her beautiful body, to spend the entire day in bed having his way with her; but that would have to wait, he had another idea.

“How does a picnic sound? I bet if we ask the front desk there’s a beautiful place nearby that’s hopefully semi-private we could go.” Jared nipped at her right hip waiting for her response, “Or, we could stay right here in this room and I could worship you like the Queen that you are.”

Andrea moaned at his words, looking down her body, her hand coming to rest on the vein under his left eye, smoothing it gently.

“As your Queen,” she smirked, “I choose both. A picnic sounds lovely and then, kind Sir, I want to come back here so you can do whatever you’d like to me. And I, to you.” Wiggling her eyebrows, she pulled At Jared until he stood, kissing him sweetly.

“Meet me in the lobby, Andie. I’m going to talk to the front desk.” Jared said, bringing his lips to Andrea’s forehead. He stepped around her, giving her butt a firm swat before he left, laughing at the squeak he provoked.

They walked hand in hand down the cobblestone streets, coming to an open field. Purple wildflowers blanketed the lush vivid green grass. Andrea subconsciously clutched her necklace making Jared smile as he watched her reaction to the view before them.

Smoothing the blanket on to the grass under a tree, Jared crossed his legs, lifting an arm into the air to help Andrea sit down. Gathering her long dress into her left hand, she grabbed Jared’s hand, gracefully sitting next to him.

After they finished eating, Jared turned his head to stare at Andrea. Her eyes cast ahead of her, a blissful look on her stunning face as her arms rested on her bent knees. Her skin glowing against the white dress she wore, reflecting the golden hues of the evening sun; he smiled, feeling overwhelmed with contentment.

Leaning over, leaving little kisses her up her arm, he mapped a trail to her shoulder. Pushing her cocoa hair from her shoulder, continuing to her neck.

Andrea lay back on the blanket pulling Jared with her. His lips instantly found hers, their kiss so sweet, deepening as she opened her mouth to accept Jared’s eager tongue. Her fingers weaving into his long hair, pulling him as close as she could.

“Andrea,” Jared paused sitting up, Andrea following his lead. Looking into her eyes he knew for sure this was it. This was the moment. Pushing a loose tendril behind her left ear, his eyes cast over her face as she smiled. That smile took his breath away, he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Will you marry me?”

The gasp escaping her lips nearly inaudible as she drew her hand to her heart. Her eyes bore into his as Jared reached for her hand.

“I love you. I want you to be mine in every possible way.” His voice strong and sure.

Taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart, it was as if her life flashed before her eyes. How drastically her world was changed the day she met the man sitting before her. Andrea struggled to recall what life was like before him, how colorful and full life has been since meeting him.

“YES! A million times yes. I love you so much. Yes!” The words rushed out of her mouth as she tackled him, kissing him fiercely.

“Let’s get married right now. What do you say?” Jared asked

“Now? In Italy? We won’t be here long enough to get approved. That surely takes weeks for processing.”

“We could do things our way and get married right here, right now.”

“Jared, did you hit your head when I knocked you over? We don’t have anyone to marry us. A license to make it legal. Any witnesses...” she stated with a shrug of her shoulders.

Jared laughed, digging through the bag they brought along unearthing a post it note and a pen.

“Andie... baby, we can do all that when we get home.” He began writing on the small pad of paper as Andrea watched him curiously. When he was finished, he handed her the fuchsia colored square.

“Say yes today + everyday from now on to loving each other; even through hard times. I am yours + you are mine. Forever.” Her eyes welling with tears at the simplicity of what he wrote, his name scribbled at the bottom along with the date.

Andrea grabbed the pen, signing her name under his with no hesitation. Jared leaned forward, capturing her lips with his.

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