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sequinsmile-x · 2 years

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Tomorrow

They could have had forever and it still wouldn’t have been enough.

The final story in the Whatever Tomorrow Brings universe.

-x-

I've felt oddly emotional about this all day, all week really. Whatever Tomorrow Brings was the first story of mine that really started to pick up readers, and whilst I will miss this universe - it feels like the right time to say goodbye. I'll still be here, writing about our favourite idiots in love, just not this version of them.

I want to say thank you to all of you! To anyone who reblogged, liked or left kudos on any part of this universe. Thank you to the silent readers, those who come back time and time again. Thank you for loving my original characters so much - Theo, and especially Amelia, became so much more because of how all of you reacted to them.

This version of them, and their family, will always be important to me, and knowing they meant something to you too means more than I can ever say.

So this is it, the end of WTB. I hope you think I've done their story justice, and that when you revisit them in the future you still enjoy their highs and lows with them.

I love you all!

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 7.7k

Warnings: Major character death, grief, illness

Read over on A03, or below the cut.

June 2037

They hadn’t had enough time.

It’s all she can think as she stands in the home office they once shared, her eyes fixed on Aaron’s desk.

Vascular Dementia. Two words that permeated everything in their lives for almost three years, a diagnosis that rocked their whole family, and shook them to the very core.

Emily noticed it first. How her husband seemed to suddenly be more forgetful, easily confused in a way he never had been before. When she looks back on it she realises it had been slowly getting worse for a while, signs she had missed before it became obvious. Memories of what it was like when her mother was sick haunting her. At first, they’d assumed it was the same thing, a cruel twist of fate that took her mother and her husband from her with the same disease. She could still feel the pit in her stomach, heavy and dense, when she remembered the diagnosis, the cause the doctors assumed laid behind it.

It was George Foyet’s last laugh. His actions still impacting their family decades after he had briefly taken Aaron from them, only to permanently do it now. The injuries he had sustained had slowly put stress on his heart throughout the years, leading to this.

Aaron had been the one who had to calm her down once they got home from that appointment, initially letting her rant and rave, cursing a man long since dead, until she started to cry. Then he’d hugged her, held her in the embrace that had been her solace for most of her life and comforted her, like he wasn’t the one who hadn’t just been told he was dying.

“Mom?”

She turns from where she is standing, her chest tight as she turns to face her children, all three of them just inside the door, pulled shut behind them to give them some privacy. It’s why she’d sought solace here, to begin with, strangers in their home setting it up for the wake. It was setting her on edge, her nerves already raw.

Jack is standing with his hands in his pockets, his lips set in a firm line, a clear attempt to hold his emotions back. It makes him look so much like Aaron that her eyes sting, the seemingly endless tears making their presence known. The sight of him in a black suit sending her right back to the last time he’d buried a parent. He’d been so young then, the life he had known dead and gone with his mother.

Theo and Amelia are bunched together, the latter with her arms wrapped tightly around her brother’s bicep, holding him close, her head against his shoulder, tears on her face that she doesn’t even try to hide.

“The cars are here.” Theo says, his voice shaking slightly, attempting to smile at her, “we’re ready to go when you are.”

Emily nods and throws one look back towards Aaron’s desk, left exactly as it had been when he’d last used it, and she blows out a breath as she turns to her children.

“Let’s go, best get today over with.” She says as she steps towards them.

Amelia breaks free from her brothers and closes the gap between her and Emily, hugging her mother as she did when she was a little girl. Seeking her comfort like she was a child, not the grown woman she now was. Emily holds her just as tightly, rubbing her hand up and down her daughter's back as she cries.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she says, encouraging Amelia to walk with her, her arm around her waist, “you know how your dad felt about tardiness.”

They all chuckle, humourless and sad but it’s something. She guides her daughter towards the front of the house, her sons walking just behind them, and she is grateful Aaron gave her them. The family they worked so hard for.

They could have had forever and it still wouldn’t have been enough.

April 2035

“You want to do what?” She asks, venom in her voice as she stares at him, her mouth hanging open from where she sits next to him on their couch. He looks so calm it makes her even more irritated, like he hadn’t just dropped life changing news on her. He doesn’t bite, doesn’t react. He’d always been frustratingly patient with her.

“I want to sign a DNR.” He repeats, placing his hand on her knee and squeezing the joint, his fingers attempting to press comfort into her. “I think it’s the right thing to do.”

“The right thing to…” she blows out a breath incredulously, and she shakes her head, “how is signing something that means the doctors just let you die the right thing to do?”

All she can think about is what they were told 6 months ago, his increased risk of heart attacks and stroke. How to look for the signs. She’d barely let him leave her sight, worried she’d come home to find him laying on the ground. Images of what had been key themes in her nightmares over the years, flashes of a blood stain on a floor in their old house, becoming a very real possibility.

“Em,-”

“No,” she says, cutting him off. She stands up, his hand slipping from her knee, and she starts to pace the floor.

He stands too, still calm, and It infuriates her. Makes grief settle in her lungs as she becomes hyper-aware that she could lose him at any moment.

“Sweetheart,” he says, his hands on her shoulders as he stops her, making her look at him, “it’s only going to get worse, the doctor said we should think about it.” He wipes a tear away from her cheek that she doesn’t even realise has fallen. “I need you on board with this.”

She’s heard what he hasn’t said. He legally can’t make this decision for himself anymore. She was his medical proxy, and power of attorney had been handed over after his diagnosis. He’d already got worse, she knew that. Confused and frustrated more than he wasn’t, and she hated that they were using some of his increasingly infrequent lucid days to talk about this.

“Aaron,” she breathes out, “how am I supposed to sign something that says I don’t want them to resuscitate you if something happens?” She doesn’t try and cover her upset, her tears freely falling, there had never been any point in doing so around him anyway. “How are you so ok with this?”

He pulls her into a hug, his hand in her hair, holding her almost impossibly close.

“I have no other choice.”

She isn’t sure how long they stand there before she swallows thickly, the words bitter in her mouth.

“Ok, I understand.” She says, and he kisses the top of her head, and squeezes her tightly. “I’m going to miss you when you…so you’d better live for as long as possible,” she’s still crying, her words losing the humorous edge she was going for, she pulls back to look at him and sees tears in his eyes too, “Ok?”

He nods. “Ok,” he leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead, “I’ll miss you too.”

The next day he asks her where Haley is, and she has to excuse herself for a moment to pull herself together.

___

September 2008

Emily groans as she wakes up, unaware that she had fallen asleep in the first place. The first thing she is aware of, apart from the fact she’s on the couch, is the ever present nausea that rolled through her entire body.

She places her hand over her stomach, pressing into the still flat surface. She’d only been released from the hospital the day before, and Aaron and the boys were taking the doctor’s instructions to make sure she rested very seriously. She smiles as she realises someone, Aaron, had laid a blanket over her. She looks down and sees Archie cuddled up in her arms, and it makes her eyes water, forever at the mercy of her hormones, at the thought of Theo placing the orange cat there with her before Aaron ushered him out of the room.

She sits up slowly, blowing out a breath as she does, a pointless attempt to settle her stomach. She gives herself a moment before she stands, ensuring she has Archie with her, before she makes her way upstairs.

It was late enough to know everyone else would be up there, and Aaron would have inevitably come to wake her up, to encourage her into their bed, once the boys were asleep. She sneaks into Theo’s room on the way past, smiling as she places Archie in bed with him, kissing her son’s forehead before she slips back out.

She’s about to check on Jack when she hears him and Aaron in her bedroom, their hushed conversation travelling out through the gap in the door. Her curiosity spurs her on as much as her exhaustion does, and she steps into the room, spotting them in the ensuite.

“What are you two up to?” She asks, her smile widening as they both turn to look at her, shaving foam on both of their faces, clean skin showing through the patches they had already dragged the razor across.

“Dad’s teaching me how to shave,” Jack says, a shy smile on his face.

Emily exchanges a look with her husband and is proud of herself for not smiling. Jack, in no way, had enough facial hair to justify shaving, just the first hint of it on his upper lip, the odd hair on his chin.

“Well, have fun,” she says, “I’m going to get into bed.”

“Do you need anything sweetheart?” Aaron asks, already setting the razor in his hand down, ready to do whatever she requested.

“I’m ok,” she replies before looking back at Jack, “see you in the morning, honey.”

“Night, Emily.”

She climbs into bed, pulling the covers tightly around her as she tries to curl into a ball, another attempt to settle the constant twisting in her stomach. She dozes, the quiet sound of Jack and Aaron talking in the bathroom turning into white noise, and she’s unsure how much time has passed when she feels Aaron climb into bed with her, gentle as he pulls her back into him, his palm covering her belly.

“Are you ok?” He asks, kissing the back of her head, his thumb stroking at her belly button.

“I feel like shit,” she replies honestly, a slight whine to her voice, “but no more than usual.”

“I can go get one of your pills if you want,” he says, already pulling away, but she stops him, her hand over his on her stomach.

“No, I don’t need it,” she says, turning her head enough just to look at him, her lips pressing into his, “this helps.”

He looks at her as if he doesn’t believe her, but settles back down behind her anyway, his body moulding into hers, the space they had made for each other years ago.

“That was sweet,” she says, linking their fingers together on her abdomen, “Jack asking you to teach him how to shave.”

Aaron hums. “He was so shy about it,” he says, smiling into the back of her head, “Did I ever tell you that I taught Sean?”

She squeezes his hand a little tighter, any mention of his little brother always prone to make him sad, their relationship so fractured she wondered if it would ever be fixed.

“No, you didn’t,” she says, raising their hands to kiss his knuckles, “although, it makes sense, your dad wasn’t around.” She turns, the movement making her stomach roll, so she can face him properly, her forehead against his. “You’re a fantastic father, you know that?”

He smiles at the praise, his dimples on display. “And you’re an excellent mother.”

She chokes out a laugh, although it sounds close to a sob, her hormones driving her crazy.

“Our kids are so lucky to have us,” she quips, her hand running through his hair.

“They are,” he replies, pressing his lips to hers, “but you can be the one to have the sex talk with them.”

She laughs, properly this time, and she nods at him. “Fine, but you have to teach them how to drive.”

___

June 2037

She’s sitting on the couch, the tv on a mindless channel, when the front door opens, the sound of the key in the lock seemingly echoing throughout the house.

It’s muscle memory, a pavlovian response to years, decades, of Aaron walking in, his familiar footsteps against the hardwood floor, that has her momentarily forgetting.

“Mom, it’s just me,” Jack calls through the house, and she berates herself for the stab of disappointment she feels.

It wasn’t Aaron, it never could be again.

“I’m in the living room.” She calls back, hopeful that she had kept her voice even.

She knew her children well enough to know they’d discussed keeping an eye on her. It would have been Amelia’s idea initially, she knew that. Her daughter was still staying with her, sleeping in her childhood bedroom as if she didn’t have an apartment just 30 minutes away with her partner. She wasn’t here right now, and Emily knew it wasn’t coincidence that Jack was here when the house was otherwise empty.

“Is Mills still staying here?” Jack asks as he walks into the room, making a show of looking around for signs of his sister as he sits next to Emily, joining her on the couch.

“Yeah,” Emily replies, smiling, “She went home to get some fresh clothes, make sure Jamie has watered the plants correctly.”

Jack raises his eyebrow, “There’s a wrong way to do that?”

Emily laughs, the sound foreign to her ears, “Apparently.”

They fall back into the silence that had fallen over the house in recent weeks, laying over them like a thick blanket. Cloying and suffocating.

“How are you doing, Mom?” Jack asks, his voice soft, kind. A mixture of the three people who had raised him.

“I’m ok,” she replies automatically, a tight smile on her face.

Jack sighs. “Mom, you don’t have to do that. Not with me.”

She frowns, her eyebrows creasing together. “Do what?”

“Pretend everything is ok,” he says, “We’ve never lied to each other.”

Suddenly it’s like she’s watching his life play out in front of her. Like he’s every version of himself that she has known all at once. The terrified kid on the brink of losing his mother, the angry teenager once again torn away from the life he knew. The grown man, the father, she had sitting in front of her.

The years had gone by so quickly.

“No,” she replies, “We haven’t.” She looks down at her lap and plays with her wedding rings. She has Aaron’s on a chain around her neck now, sitting close to her heart. “I’m just…really fucking angry,” she says, looking back up at her eldest, her eyes welling up as she admits it out loud for the first time, “so angry that he’s gone.”

“I am too,” Jack admits, shaking his head. “It seems so unfair.”

“I hate him for leaving me behind,” she says, her voice shaking, “and I hate that I hate him. Because I’ve loved him for most of my life.”

Jack hugs her then, closes the small gap between them and puts his arms around her. She returns it gratefully, feeling a sense of relief for getting just a small part of what she was feeling off of her chest.

“He asked me to look after you, you know,” Jack says as he pulls back, a sad smile on his face. Emily tilts her head at him slightly, her eyebrows creased.

“He did? When?”

Jack chuckles dryly. “The last time I went to see him and he was lucid,” he shakes his head at the memory, “Sara stepped out with the kids, they were restless, and he said I needed to look after you. That you’d be so busy looking after everyone else you’d forget to do it yourself.”

She huffs out a laugh and wipes a tear from her cheek. It felt absurd. That he’d been dying, waiting for the end, and he’d been worried about her.

“That ridiculous man.” She says, another laugh choking on a sob, the sound dying in her throat. “Fuck, I miss him so much already.”

Jack nods his head. “Me too.”

___

November 2013

Emily smiles as she hears her husband's footsteps heading towards the kitchen, home late from meetings that she knew he’d rather have skipped. She looks to Amelia, the little girl happily sitting on her mother’s hip, and smiles, bouncing her slightly as Aaron comes into view.

“Look, sweet girl, Daddy’s home!”

“Daddy!” Amelia squeals, her hands already reaching out for him. He walks over and takes the little girl into his arms, kissing his wife quickly as he does so.

“Hi sweetheart,” he says, kissing Emily again.

“Hi,” she smiles at him, “how was work?”

“Long,” he replies, adjusting Amelia so she was comfortable in his embrace, her tiny hands playing with his tie, “I’ve got to tell you something, and you’ve got to promise to stay calm.”

She freezes, her eyes fixed on him as her throat feels tight. “What?”

“I got called by Theo’s school earlier.”

She frowns, confusion spreading through her veins. She’d seen Aaron since school would have ended, Theo was up in his room reading, acting like it was a normal day.

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” She asks, her words tripping over each other, fierce protectiveness and worry that only their children could bring out in her rising fast.

“They have some concerns because he hasn’t been eating lunch, and today they saw him giving his lunch money to another kid.”

She leans against the kitchen counter. “Is this kid bullying him?”

Pre-emptive anger fills her lungs, ready to go shout at whatever child was involved, and she glares at Aaron when he has the audacity to smile at her for a second, her reaction clearly predictable to him.

“They asked him that and he refused to tell them, they asked if we would speak to him.”

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He’s been making such good progress, Aaron, I don’t want him to go through this again-”

“Baby,” he says, placing a hand on her waist, “let’s not jump to conclusions, we’ll talk to him after dinner, ok?”

She nods in response, fighting against every instinct to run up the stairs and ask her son what was going on.

During dinner, Aaron has to place a hand on her leg, squeezing the muscle tightly as she watches Theo eat. She notices the speed at which he does so, and she chastises herself for not noticing it before.

Once Amelia is in bed, they call him into the living room, a nervous look on his face as he settles on the couch opposite his parents.

“Am I in trouble?” He asks, concern painting his features.

“No, sweetie you’re not in trouble,” Emily says, smiling at him in a way she hoped was reassuring, “we just need to talk to you.”

“School called me today,” Aaron adds, and Theo’s eyes widen, his nose scrunching up slightly, “they told me what happened with your lunch money.”

“It’s fine,” he says, slightly defensively, “I told them it’s fine.”

“Theo, we’re just worried that’s all, you should have told us if someone is making you give them your lunch money,” Emily replies, her hands in her lap as she plays with her rings.

“He’s not making me,” Theo says, sighing after he does, clearly not intending to reveal what he had.

“Ok,” Aaron says, exchanging a quick look with his wife, “what’s going on then?”

Theo stares at them for a second, before looking at the floor. “His name is Adam, his mom can’t afford to give him money for lunch, and she works nights so can’t make it for him,” he shrugs, still avoiding eye contact, “so I give him mine every other day.” He flicks his eyes back up to them, before looking back down, “I tried to give it to him every day but he wouldn’t take it.”

It shocks them into silence for a moment, and Emily looks at her husband before she stands, walking over to her son and crouching in front of him, ignoring the protest in her knees as she does so. She hooks a finger under Theo’s chin and makes him look at her.

“Theo, that’s incredibly sweet,” she says, making sure her voice doesn’t portray the emotion she’s feeling, “and I’m very proud of you for being so kind, but you have to tell us, or a teacher, if you find something like that out. It’s not up to you to fix that.”

He looks past her to Aaron, and without turning around she knows her husband has nodded in agreement with what she has said, before Theo looks back at her.

“Ok.” Theo agrees, nodding. “Can I go play my game now?”

Emily huffs out a laugh. “Of course.”

Theo stands up and hugs her, running over to do the same with Aaron, before he’s out of the room. Emily stands up straight, groaning as her knees ache. Aaron is next to her before she stands completely, his arms wrapping around her from behind.

“How the hell did we make the world's sweetest kid?” She asks, leaning into her husband as he kisses her temple. She turns in his arms and bands her arms around his back, mentally planning the call she’d make to the school in the morning.

“I have no idea,” Aaron says against her skin, “we’re sending him to school with double the lunch money tomorrow, right?”

“Damn straight we are.”

___

June 2037

Theo calls her before he comes to the house, as conscientious as he had ever been. She hugs him tightly the second he walks in the door, the first joy she had felt in weeks thrumming through her veins.

“Congratulations, honey. I’m so happy for you.” She says as she pulls back, smiling at her son, hers only widening as he smiles back.

“Thanks, Mom. We’re so relieved it’s finally happened.”

She looks past him onto the porch and sees he’s alone, frowning when she looks back at him.

“Where are they then?” She asks, raising her eyebrow at him, “I want to hug my son-in-law and my granddaughter.”

Theo, and his husband Sam, had been fostering a little girl called Florence for years, since she was only a few months old. They’d found out that morning that they were finally getting an adoption hearing, that their daughter would finally be fully and legally theirs.

“Flo insisted on going to the park,” Theo says as he rolls his eyes at the little girl's behaviour, “I dropped them off on the way here.”

Emily hums in her throat as she walks towards the kitchen, Theo following suit, “Tell her Nanna remembers everything, and I’ll keep this in mind next time she tries to scam cookies out of me.”

“You’re a soft touch and you know it,” he says, taking the coffee pot from her hands and proceeding to make it for her, “you’d give any of the kids whatever they asked for.”

She can’t argue with that, it was something Aaron had said multiple times since Jack’s first child had been born. However protective of their children she had been, it was increased tenfold for their grandchildren. She’s suddenly reminded of something, and she smiles at her son.

“Oh, I was in the attic going through some of your dad’s things, and I found something for you.”

She’s already walking towards the dining room where she’d been keeping some things, the self-imposed job keeping her busy, when she hears Theo call after her.

“Mom,” he sighs, “what have I told you about going up there, we’ll do it for you.”

Emily rolls her eyes at his over-protectiveness, making sure she’s back in the room so he can see,

“Honey, it’s fine,” she says, her hands behind her back, the item she wanted to give him hidden from view, “you ready?”

“Ready.” He says, smiling indulgently at her. She raises an eyebrow and he sighs at her, closing his eyes and putting his hands out.

Emily carefully places the worn stuffed animal in his hands, the orange fur faded through years of love, and age. She knows Theo knows what it is immediately, his smile widening as his eyes open, settling on his oldest friend. He chuckles and holds the toy a little tighter.

“Hi Archie,” he says, shaking his head, “it’s been a while.”

“He was up there in a box of your old things,” Emily explains, “I thought you could give him to Flo.”

“Thanks, Mom, I love that idea.” He says, briefly looking up at her before he looks back down at the orange cat, “Do you remember when Dad and Jack drove to get him after we left him behind in that god awful apartment?”

“Yeah,” she replies, the memory of it seizing up her chest, “I do.”

Theo looks up at her, his dark eyes shining. “I wish he was here, that I could tell him about the adoption too.”

“Oh, honey,” she says, closing the gap between them and putting her hand on his arm, “He loved her so much, she was part of this family the second you brought her here for the first time,” she smiles sadly at him, her throat tight, “another Hotchner girl who had him wrapped around her finger.”

Theo laughs through his tears and nods, “You’re right.” He clears his throat and tries to smile at her, “Will you come to the hearing? We’d love to have you there.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

___

February 2025

Emily can’t help but wince as she hears the brakes on the car squeal as it pulls into the driveway.

It was Amelia’s 16th birthday and, as promised, Aaron was taking her on her first driving lesson. He’d taught both of the boys. There had been a few tense moments that had led to crossed words, but overall it had gone smoothly, both Theo and Jack passing the first time.

She knew that Aaron was worried about teaching Amelia. Their youngest was the one who pushed back the most, the one who attempted to break boundaries.

Amelia and Aaron had always been close, the blip in their relationship when she didn’t recognise him after they had gone into hiding mostly a distant memory. Things were changing now she was a teenager, the usual distance put between child and parent that always hurt, but she knew this was different for Aaron. It reminded him too much of when their daughter, only a baby at the time, shied away from him and acted as if he was a stranger.

Emily schools her features as the door opens, Amelia bursting in, excitement flowing off of her.

“That was so cool,” she exclaims, slumping down onto the couch next to her mother, “I love driving.”

Emily laughs at her daughter’s enthusiasm, “You had fun then?”

“Oh, so much fun!” She replies, “I’m going to go FaceTime my friends, what time is dinner?” She asks, already standing up, her phone in her hand.

“We’re meeting your brothers at 7 pm, so we’ll leave here at 6.30.” Emily answers.

“Oh, maybe I could drive to the restaurant?”

Emily finally looks at her husband and has to stop herself from laughing at the way his eyes widen.

“I think we’ll let your dad drive, honey.”

Amelia is already mostly out of the room, agreeing with just a noise as she disappears. It’s only when her bedroom door upstairs closes that Aaron slips onto the couch next to Emily, his head leaning back.

“That bad, huh?” She asks, no longer hiding her amusement.

“You have no idea.” He says, turning his head to look at her. “She knows no fear, and that, apparently, extends to the rules of the road.”

Emily does laugh at that and she shifts towards him, pressing her lips to his cheek.

“Poor, baby.”

He puts his arm around her, pulling her into his side, and she goes willingly, snuggling up into him.

“I love her so much, sweetheart. I’d go to the end of the earth for her, but I don’t know if I can teach her how to drive.”

Emily places her hand on his leg and runs her thumb back and forth over the material of his pants.

“She can’t be that bad.”

“She asked what the indicator is, 5 minutes before the end of the lesson. We’d been using it for almost an hour.”

Emily hides her smile in his neck. “We all start somewhere love.” She shifts to kiss his cheek. “Are you sure this isn’t all mostly because your little girl is growing up?”

He pokes her in her side, tickling at her ribs. “No profiling.” He sighs, turning his head to kiss her temple. “Are you sure you can’t teach her?”

She pulls away from him, her eyebrow raised. “Oh no,” she says, smiling at him, “we agreed a long time ago, I do the sex talk, and you teach them how to drive.”

He groans and closes his eyes, his head leaning back against the couch again.

“Your dad warned me about this years ago,” he says, almost as if he isn’t aware he’s talking, “he told me you were a nightmare to teach.”

“He said what?”

___

June 2037

Emily closes the door behind her as she gets home from a coffee date with JJ and Penelope. They’d forced her to go, an attempt to get her out of the house that she was strangely grateful for. The last time she’d seen them had been at Aaron’s funeral, and she hadn’t been able to bring herself to speak to them beyond the usual pleasantries, all of her focus on her children and holding herself together.

“Mom, good timing,” Amelia says, appearing into view, “I was just thinking about dinner.”

She can’t help but smile as she looks at her daughter. It was strange to think Amelia was now older than she had been when she’d met Aaron, then when she’d married him. She didn’t know how it had happened, how the once little girl was now this woman standing in front of her. Her dark hair piled on top of her head, the nose ring she’d had put in as a teenager, the one Aaron hated at the time, still going strong.

“Hi sweetheart,” Emily replies, placing her purse down, “how was work?”

“It was good, I met Jamie for lunch.”

Emily smiles at that, at the flash of something she doesn’t miss across Amelia’s face. She’d been staying here since Aaron was admitted to hospital during the couple of weeks before he died. At first, it was under the pretence that their house was closer to the hospital than her apartment. Then it was so she could help Emily with the funeral. Since then they hadn’t spoken about it. Amelia still here, sleeping in her childhood room, and only popping home to grab some things and briefly see Jamie.

“You don’t have to stay here you know,” Emily says softly, “I’ll be ok.”

Amelia freezes on the spot, and frowns, an expression that was just so Aaron it makes Emily smile. “Mom,-”

“I appreciate it, Mills,” she says, closing the gap between them so she can reach out and hold her daughter’s hand, squeezing it tightly, “I appreciate it so much, but you can’t just put your life on hold for me.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” She says defensively, her eyebrows creasing even deeper.

“Jamie must miss you,” Emily offers up, smiling tightly, “I remember how quiet it seemed around here when you first moved out.”

Amelia sighs and squeezes her mother’s hand. “I just don’t want you to be by yourself.”

Emily smiles at Amelia before hugging her, blowing out a breath as she feels how tightly she holds her back, her fists grabbing at the back of her shirt like she hadn’t in years.

Amelia had always been the loudest of their children. The most outspoken, the one filled with comebacks and sass, witty in a way Aaron had always claimed aged him. It made it easy to forget that she was also the most emotional of the three of them. Always so in tune with the emotions of those around her that she almost felt what others were feeling.

“That’s very sweet of you, love,” Emily says, pulling back from Amelia and smiling at her, “but I’ll be ok.”

Amelia uncurls one of her hands from behind Emily and wipes tears from her cheeks.

“I remember when I was younger I’d always be so jealous that you all remembered what happened with Foyet and I didn’t.” She admits, her lower lip trembling, “ Like I’d missed out on something huge that bonded you all together. But…I never knew what it was like to live without Dad. And now I do and I hate it.”

It tips Emily over the edge, her own grief hitting her again at full force at the sight of her daughter falling apart. She hugs her again as tightly as she can, trying to provide the comfort she doesn’t feel herself. She doesn’t know how long they stand there, locked in a tight embrace in the hallway of what used to be a busy home, but they take the time they need.

“How about,” Emily says, pulling back enough to look at Amelia, gently wiping tears from her face like she hadn’t done since she was little, “we go get enough tacos to last a week, come back here and eat all of them, and fall asleep in front of a movie we’ve seen a thousand times,” she smiles, and Amelia does too, both of them ignoring the shake to them, “and then you can go home tomorrow.”

Amelia laughs and nods, “That sounds perfect.” Before Emily can pull away, and head towards the door, Amelia hugs her again. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too.”

___

January 1999

They’d talked about it. It was something they’d discussed on and off for years. Vague conversations about kids that started as thinly veiled comments in their early days, to more serious discussions as their relationship progressed.

They both wanted children, she knew that. Sometimes she’d catch Aaron staring at her as she took her birth control in the morning, something she had consistently taken since she was 15. Despite that, she was still nervous as she waited for him to get home, her old habit of picking at her thumbnails coming back, her leg bouncing up and down.

She was due a birth control review, the reminder from Joanne’s office on their kitchen counter, and to her, it seemed like the right time, the moment to take the step they had been skirting around for a little while now. She wanted to have a baby with him, to build their family. To be a mother.

“Are you ok, love?”

She jumps and looks up to find him looking at her, his eyebrow creased in concern. “Sorry, I didn’t realise you were home.”

“Clearly,” he quips, sitting next to her on the couch. He kisses her, his palm on her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

She forces a smile at him. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

He tucks some of her hair behind her ear. “Well, you didn’t hear the door open,” he starts, before his hand seeks hers out, bringing it into her eye line, “you’ve torn your cuticles to shreds,” he puts his arm around her and she settles, “and, I’m your husband, I like to think I know you.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Stupid profiling.” Her eyes meet his and he’s looking at her expectantly. She blows out a steady breath. “My birth control review is coming up,” she says, flashing him an unsteady smile, “I got the reminder today. I was thinking…I might not go.”

She watches as he processes what she has said, realisation hitting him within seconds, his expression barely changing, only noticeable to her.

“Oh.”

“I could,” she says quickly, “get another year's worth, but I just thought-”

“Don’t go.” He says, smiling at her, cutting her off before she could spiral any further. She feels warmth spread throughout her chest, happiness threatening to overwhelm her, her smile wide enough to split her face in two.

“Really?” She asks, her voice quiet, afraid if she was too loud she would break this moment between them.

“Really,” he replies, kissing her fiercely, “let’s try for a baby.”

She smiles against his lips, kissing him again, shifting so she was sitting on his lap, her knees on either side of his hips.

“I love you so much,” she says in between kisses, never fully pulling away from him.

“I love you too,” he replies, pulling her impossibly closer, his hands sneaking under her shirt.

“Aaron,” she exclaims, laughing as he lifts the material, her shirt coming over her head, “what are you doing?”

“Making a baby with my wife,” he says as if it was obvious, and she shakes her head at him, undoing his shirt despite her laughter.

“I took the pill this morning, honey,” she replies, groaning slightly as he pulls her further into his lap, “it’s going to take a little time-”

He cuts her off with his lips on hers, his fingers trailing the lining of her bra, he stamps another kiss to her lips before pulling away.

“I know,” he says, kissing her again, “but we can have fun practising.”

She smiles at him, her cheeks aching with it.

“I can’t argue with that.”

___

May 2037

He’s sleeping by the time the doctors let her into his room. They’d stabilised him as much as they could without breaking the DNR signed years ago. Sits next to him, her hand over his, and she blows out a breath and tries to calm herself.

“I was by myself when Mom died.” Emily says to the quietness of the room, the silence threatening to crush her. She threads her fingers through his and pushes hair off of his sleeping face. “You were on your way. I was by myself but I didn’t feel alone. I haven’t felt alone in so long. You’ve always been there,” she wipes a thumb under her eye, the tear she wiped away immediately replaced, “or the kids have. But I feel it now. I feel so alone and you’re still here.”

“Em?”

She looks at him and sees he’s awake, groggy but awake, and she smiles at him.

“Hi honey, how are you feeling?”

“Terrible,” he admits, his voice weak, “what happened?”

“A stroke,” she says, unlinking her hand from his to move some of his hair from his forehead, “A small one, according to the doctor, like that makes it better.”

He smiles at her, a glint in his eyes that lets her know he’s in there, that she’s talking to her Aaron. A rarity these days, a precious jewel in amongst all of the confusion and fear there usually was.

“How much did you yell?” He asks, raising his eyebrow.

“Enough.” She replies, smiling at him before they lapse into silence again.

“This next bit is going to be hard.” He says, linking their fingers together. It was something they had done hundreds, thousands, of times throughout their time together. Something automatic. Something she had often done without thinking. A passing show of affection, a quick way to say ‘I love you’ without words. They’d stopped needing to say it so long ago.

She closes her eyes and tries to memorise it. The feel of his wedding band against her skin. The warmth of his hands. The roughness of the callouses he still had on his thumb, even all these years after he retired, as it rubbed back and forth over her wrist. She tries to remember it all, to make sure it’s seared into her memory.

She’d forgotten how it felt to hold his hand once before. It wasn’t something she wanted to lose again, not when she was already losing him.

“I know.” She replies, sniffing as she tries to hold back emotion, shaking her head slightly as if she could get rid of it. As if it was rain on a jacket, easily wiped away. “I love you. So much. Mother always said that I love you too much.” She tries to smile but fails, her chin wobbling with the force of her sadness. “This is the first time I think she may have been right.”

“No, sweetheart. It’s never too much.” He squeezes her hand. “It’s never been too much. I love you, and I don’t regret a single second of all of it.”

She tries to laugh but it comes out as a sob, her spare hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Not even the part where a serial killer forced me and the kids into hiding?”

“Not a second of it.” He repeats, and he smiles at her like he hasn’t in weeks. She sees their life together in it. Everything they’ve survived. All the love they shared. The arguments and the inevitable apologies that followed. The comfort and the tears, the way they had got each other through. Impossibly more in love each day than the last.

She was going to miss it, miss him.

“Me neither.” She says, smiling at him despite her tears. “I’d do it all again.”

They talk until he falls asleep, and she allows herself to act as if this was normal for them. That this wasn’t one good day in amongst so many bad ones.

She tells herself it isn’t the last good day, that they have more time, until it becomes clear that it was.

___

They are alone when it happens. Just the two of them as his ragged breathing comes to a slow stop, her hand tight around his. She feels selfish for how grateful she is that it happened that way, that she’d been afforded their final moments together.

A lifetime of love, and happiness. Bitter arguments and tears. Joy and grief and each other. All coming to a quiet end.

She wouldn’t change a second of it. The pain she feels as her children arrive, the brave face she slides on so easily, was the price she paid for getting to love him for so long.

___

January 1993

He was late.

It was his first day at his new job and everything that could have gone wrong that morning had done so. It felt like everything had been against him since Haley left, like the universe had decided it just wasn’t enough for him to be left by his fiancee just before their wedding.

Aaron turns down yet another hallway that seems to lead to nowhere and he sighs, wondering vaguely to himself how the hell he was supposed to provide security for the people who lived here if he couldn’t even find his new boss's office.

“Are you lost?” A voice says from behind him. He turns around and that's when he sees her, looking at him with her eyebrows raised. She was beautiful, almost ethereal, her dark eyes full of mischief. “Do you need help?”

“I…I need to find Ambassador Prentiss’ office.” He says, cursing himself slightly at the stutter at the start of his sentence. She smiles a little wider, and he wonders if she has this effect on everyone she meets.

“Oh, that’s easy,” she says, walking over and standing next to him, “I tend to just follow the air of judgement and patronisation on the air,” she winks at him, “it smells oddly like Chanel Number 5.” He opens his mouth, unsure what to say and she laughs at him. “It’s down the corridor and to the left, I’ll walk you there.”

“Thank you.” He says, unable to stop himself from smiling at her as they walk together. “How long have you worked here?”

He knows it's a stupid question based on her appearance alone, that anyone wearing sweatpants and a tank top likely wasn’t on the clock, but small talk had never been his thing. He’d always left that part up to Haley.

She laughs at him. “Oh I don’t work here,” she smiles. “I’m Emily, I’m sure you’ll learn all about me soon enough.” They come to a stop outside of an office door and she gestures to it. “Here we are.”

He smiles gratefully at her. “Thank you, Emily.”

“No problem…” She drifts off, looking at him expectantly.

“Agent Hotchner.” He offers, a tight smile on his face, the title still strange to him.

Emily smirks at him. “Your mother called you agent?” She asks, her eyes sparkling and it makes him laugh, something about her leaving him unsettled but wanting more.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Aaron. My name is Aaron.”

“Well, Agent Aaron Hotchner, it’s nice to meet you,” Emily replies, her smile widening. “And if you need anyone to show you around here let me know.”

She goes to walk off, to return to whatever she had been doing when she had taken pity on him in the hallway, and something in him screams at him to stop her. Inexplicably wanting more time in her presence, to get to know more about her.

“Emily,” he says after her, waiting for her to turn back around, her eyes meeting his again, “I’d like that.”

“Ok then, see you tomorrow Agent Hotchner.” She smiles at him, bright and beautiful and he can’t help but wonder if everything was about to change for the better.

“Yeah,” he replies, returning her smile, “see you tomorrow.”

___

“If tomorrow starts without me, don't think we're far apart, for every time you think of me, please know I'm in your heart.” - David Romano

-x-

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lostinthewiind · 3 years

Text

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 5

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG13

Warnings: arguing with parents, stereotyping?, reader's parents just being generally horrible people, angst

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous → Part 4

Next → Part 6

"This is a horrible idea," you whispered to yourself as you got ready in your bedroom mirror, unable to concentrate for more than five minutes without a small panic attack taking over.

Your eyes flicked over to your clock every few seconds. Keishin was due to arrive at your family house for dinner in about thirty minutes and with every minute that passed, you asked yourself over and over again why you ever agreed to this.

Originally, when your parents had insisted on meeting your 'boyfriend' over a family dinner, your heart had dropped into the pit of your stomach; it was the worst feeling you had ever experienced . . . until you told Keishin about it jokingly and he actually agreed. Never before had you felt so sick to your stomach. Dinner was the last thing you wanted, and to make it worse, it was going to be dinner with your parents and fake boyfriend.

Shit.

More than once you had contemplated pretending to be sick or throwing yourself down the stairs, but you just couldn't go through with it. Every time you got close to backing out, a small part of your brain reminded you that this dinner might be the thing that changed your parents mind, and even though the odds of that actually happening were close to none, you couldn't give up without even trying.

So, with knots in your stomach and your palms sweating like never before, you continued getting ready for the evening and prayed that everything went as smoothly as possible.

If only you had known then that it would take much more than a prayer to save this evening.

When you heard the doorbell ring approximately thirty minutes later, your whole body froze and the thought of jumping out your second story window was starting to sound really appealing. But then, you remembered that it would be way worse if your mom or dad answered the door before you could so you rushed out of your room and down the stairs.

"I've got the door!" you shouted throughout the house, almost as if you were marking the front door as your territory and trying to scare anyone else away from it.

Standing in front of the door, you drew in a few deep, calming breaths before plastering a forced smile across your face and pulling the door open. Let the night of hell begin.

As soon as your eyes settled on Keishin, your smile faltered and you gasped. His dyed blonde hair was slicked back like usual, but instead of a headband, it was clear he had used gel. He had every hole in his ear stuffed with a black earring, and to top things off, he had showed up in jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

"What?" Keishin took a step back and examined his outfit. "You said to go all out. I did."

"I know, I know . . . I just . . ." You took a moment to compose yourself. "I didn't even know you owned a leather jacket."

"Yeah, well, you don't know everything about me," Keishin smirked devilishly, proud that he still had a few secrets to himself. "Well, are you going to let me in? I kind of want to get this dinner over with."

Opening the door wider, you stepped to the side and let Keishin inside your house. "You and me both," you agreed. "You sure you want to do this? We could both make a run for it right now if we act fast."

Shrugging the jacket off of his shoulders, Keishin shook his head. "Come on, at least give your parents a chance to change their minds."

Just then, your father's heavy footsteps could be heard exiting the kitchen and approaching the front door where you and Keishin stood together. Swallowing hard, you wiped the sweat from your palms on your clothes and sent one last pleading thought up to the heavens above, hoping that if there was a great being up there, they could be on your side tonight.

This was it. No turning back now.

"If your boyfriend has arrived, Y/N, please don't keep your mother and I waiting. Introduce us." Your father rounded the corner, stopping in his tracks when he set eyes on Keishin. Sure, you had told your parents all about your 'boyfriend', which was why they had insisted on this dinner in the first place, but Keishin was a man that words couldn't quite capture. "Oh. Hello." Your father reluctantly held out his hand to greet Keishin.

"Hello, sir." Keishin shook your father's hand without hesitation. "I'm Ukai Keishin. Keishin is fine though."

Seconds later, your mother joined the three of you. She had a similar reaction as your father had and was not subtle about it in the least. "So this is the man you've been seeing?" Your mother gave you an almost pleading look, like she was silently begging you to come clean and admit that you were joking.

Right off of the bat, things were not going well.

"Well, let me take your jacket and hang it up in the closet." Your mother stepped toward Keishin with the fakest smile you had ever seen on her face.

"Oh, there's no need." Keishin hung his jacket on the banister of the stairs. "I'll just end up taking it out in a little while anyway when I go out for a smoke. It's easier this way, but thank you."

You watched your mother's eye twitch and the smile she had forced threaten to crack. "You smoke?" You could tell that both of your parents were on the brink of snapping right then and there, but they had promised to actually get to know Keishin, and despite all the horrible things your parents did, breaking promises was not one of them.

"I do." Keishin grinned. "I know, I know, it's not good for me. Y/N tells me to quit all the time so I'm trying."

You let out a nervous chuckle as both your parents turned to face you. "Shall we head into the living room?" You started ushering everyone into the other room, hoping to change the subject as quickly as possible.

"Yes, let's have a seat." Your father nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Keishin, watching him like a hawk. "Can I get you anything to drink, Keishin?"

"Just a water is fine, thanks." Keishin had obviously decided not to push his luck too hard because you had been fully expecting him to ask for a beer.

With that, both your mother and father disappeared into the kitchen; your mother to finish dinner and your father to collect the drinks.

Taking the brief moment of reprieve to breathe, you looked up at Keishin. "I've never seen my parents struggle between their flawless hospitality and kicking someone out of their house so much in my life," you chuckled lightly.

"I'm a bit of a shock." Keishin placed his hand on your lower back and led you toward the couch. "I brought out all the stops in the beginning so they could have the whole night to get used to me."

"How kind of you." You sat down, slightly caught off guard when Keishin sat down right next to you and slung his arm over your shoulders. You were about to ask him what he was doing, but then you remembered that the two of you were supposed to be an actual couple and this is what couples did.

As soon as you felt his touch on you, however, your mind flashed back to that night in the park a few weeks ago. Since then, neither one of you had spoken about what had happened on that bench; a wordless agreement between the two of you that you would just move on and pretend it didn't happen.

But as much as you pretended to forget, you never actually could. The feeling of Keishin's hands on your sides and his warm breath on your lips kept you up at night. As much as you tried not to think of him like that, you just couldn't help yourself.

"You seem really nervous," Keishin leaned closer to you a whispered. "You okay?"

Snapping out of your thoughts, you nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just trying not to freak out is all."

"Hey." Keishin tilted your head toward him so he could look you in your eyes. "You're their daughter. No matter what happens, they will always love you. Remember that."

You flashed a smile. Somehow, Keishin knew exactly what to say to help you relax. "Yeah . . . thanks."

Just then, your father returned with two glasses of water in hand. Handing one each to you and Keishin, you didn't miss the way his gaze settled on the sight of Keishin's arm around you.

"Thank you." Keishin grabbed his glass right away and took a sip. You, on the other hand, let your glass sit on the coaster on the table. Despite how dry your mouth was, you didn't trust your shaky hands to pick up the glass.

"Dinner should be ready soon," your father said as he sat down in his armchair across from you and Keishin. "So, Keishin, tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living?"

"Well, currently, I spend most of my time coaching the boys' volleyball team at Karasuno high school," Keishin answered, his eyes lighting up a little when he spoke about the team he coached; you could tell he really enjoyed it. "And my family owns Sakanoshita Market and I work there sometimes."

"Sakanoshita Market," your father repeated. "That sounds familiar."

You rolled your eyes, not surprised in the slightest that your father had forgotten the name of the place you had been working at for the past few months. "That's where I work, Dad," you told him. "That's how Keishin and I met."

"I see." Your father eyed Keishin and you were surprised that Keishin didn't shrink under the cold, hard gaze like you usually did. "So do you go after all the young women who work at your family store or just my daughter?"

"Dad!" you gasped, unsure whether to tell him off or apologize to Keishin on behalf of your father.

"It's okay," Keishin told you calmly before answering your father's question. "Actually, the store hasn't seen a new employee in years. For the longest time, it was just my mother and me. We are both very grateful for all the hard work Y/N puts in to help us with the store. She is a wonderful employee."

You couldn't help the blush that tinted your cheeks at the compliment. "Thanks."

"No need to thank me. It's the truth," Keishin said before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. "And good thing you took the job too, or else we would have never met."

Keishin then shot a sparkling grin your father's way, completely blinding him and distracting him from the shocked expression on your face. You knew you told Keishin to act like the two of you were really a couple, but you never expected him to play the part so thoroughly.

Your father opened his mouth to no doubt interrogate Keishin some more, but before he could, your mother began setting the table and announced that dinner was ready.

Moving over to the table, you took a seat across from Keishin while your parents sat at the ends of the table. As your mother brought the dishes of food over, you took the chance to drink some water and parch your dry throat.

The thought of having to keep this awkward conversation up gave you a headache, but thankfully, Keishin seemed to be handling everything quite well. Just as you had expected, he took everything with a grain of salt and refused to let your parents get under his skin.

You wished you were able to do that.

After the four of you bowed your heads and said thank you for the food, you dug in. At first, everyone was too busy eating to say anything. Somehow, the silence was worse than when your dad had been firing off questions rapid fire.

"This is delicious," Keishin was the first to speak. "Thank you again for inviting me for dinner."

"Yes, o-of course," your mother wavered a little but somehow managed to voice her fake pleasure nonetheless. "Y/N has never dated anyone before so we were curious as to what kind of . . . person . . . had caught her eye."

Keishin nodded, letting the not-so-subtle rude comment roll right off his back. "Well, here I am."

"Yes, here you are indeed," your father muttered under his breath. Thankfully, it didn't seem as though Keishin had heard it, but you certainly had. "So, you said you coach high school volleyball. Is this a long-term thing or?"

Keishin thought for a moment before shrugging. "I'm not sure, honestly. I do enjoy it but I've never given much thought as to if I want to do it long-term. I started coaching because of special circumstances and just haven't stopped yet."

"Well, plenty of people coach and teach," your mother said. "You seem to enjoy working with kids, so have you ever considered becoming a teacher?"

"That doesn't sound like the worst job, but that would require me to have a teaching degree, which I don't have," Keishin responded.

"What degree did you get in university?"

Keishin chuckled. "I didn't go to university."

Oh God. Your jaw dropped and you wished that a black hole could just open up underneath you and suck you in. Out of all the things your parents hated most, people who didn't go to university were at the top of the list. They always told you that 'people who didn't go to university had no interest in investing in their future.'

Hence why they always pushed so hard for you to go the university they wanted so you could study what they thought would be best for you.

You watched your mother's face go red as she reached for her glass of wine a take a particularly large sip. "Community college, then?" she squeaked out.

"Nope, afraid not," Keishin answered, completely unashamed and even proud. "I started working for the family store right after high school."

The looks on your parents' faces that they didn't even try to hide filled you with a deep sense of shame. You didn't know how they could be so blatantly rude to someone they barely knew . . . well, actually, you did know, and that was the worst part. As much as you wished you could deny it, you had thought the same things about Keishin when you had first met him.

Hanging your head in shame, you let the suffocating silence of the dining room take over.

Feeling something brush against your leg, you looked up to see Keishin smiling at you from across the table. 'It's okay' he mouthed to you. You thought back to the time Keishin had told you he was a big boy who could take a little verbal ribbing and exhaled through your nose sharply, your mood lifting ever-so-slightly.

Keishin brushed his foot against your leg a few more times to remind you that you weren't alone at this dinner before he attempted to restart the conversation. "So what do you two do for a living?" he asked, looking to your parents.

"We are both lawyers," your father said.

You nodded and sighed. "Hence why they want me to go to law school."

"Oh, honestly, Y/N, you say that like paying for you to go to law school is abuse." Your mother shook her head disapprovingly. "Do you know how many children would kill for the opportunities you have been given and yet you want to throw them away just like that? You should be grateful."

You were about to retort but stopped yourself before you did, knowing that it would only serve to start the same argument that you had lost over and over again. No matter what you said on the matter, your parents refused to try and see things from your perspective.

It never once occurred to them that you might actually not want to be a lawyer.

"Tell me, Keishin, if you had a child who you could pay for to go to law school and they told you they wanted to pursue their dream of playing soccer, what would you do?" Your father turned to Keishin, suddenly interested in what he had to say on the issue.

"Dad, let's not talk about that now," you spoke softly, hoping to get him to change the subject.

"No, no, let's hear what Keishin has to say." Your father insisted.

Keishin thought for a moment before answering. "Well, I think I would just want my child to be happy," he said, his eyes leaving your father to look at you. "I made the mistake of not following my dreams after high school and I regret it every day, so I would tell my child to follow their dreams and try my hardest to be there to support them."

You smiled wide, surprised by how emotional Keishin's words made you feel. For a moment, it was just you and him, and he was saying everything you had ever wanted to hear. All you ever wanted for was someone to be in your corner . . . someone to support you whether your choice was a mistake or not.

"Congratulations, Y/N, you've found a dreamer just like yourself," your father scoffed, breaking you out of your happy trance. "Too bad dreams don't pay the bills."

"Well, when your future is working at a family-run corner store, dreams are all you have," your mother cackled, not even trying to be quiet about it.

Your father laughed as well. "Too true, honey."

"Mom!" you shouted at her, your anger taking over before you even had the chance to think about your actions.

"It's okay," Keishin told you again, reaching across the table for your hand.

You shook your head and tugged your hand out of his reach. "No, it's not okay!" You rose to your feet, finally having had enough. "This dinner was a terrible idea. I cannot believe you!"

"If you've finally come to your senses, darling, we can send Keishin on his way and-" your mother reached for you as well but you shrugged her off.

"I'm not talking about Keishin! I'm talking about the two of you!" You slammed your hands down onto the table, shaking the dishes of food. "The whole night you have been making offhanded remarks and rude comments about Keishin while he has been nothing but the perfect guest. I'm sorry, Keishin, but I can't sit here and let you take their abuse anymore. I've dealt with it my whole life and I won't let them do the same thing to you. You don't deserve that."

"Y/N, you're being a bit dramatic, don't you think?" your father asked, sipping his wine as if nothing was happening, which only made you angrier.

"No, father, I don't think so," you snapped back. "I think that you and Mom are being horrible and I cannot believe that this is how you're acting when meeting someone for the first time. What makes you think that you have the right to treat someone so poorly just because they don't live the same life or have the same ideals as you? You think you know what is best for me but you don't even know me, so how could you?! I would rather work at the corner store for the rest of my life if it meant being genuinely happy over being a snobby, emotionless lawyer any day."

While you vented in front of your parents, Keishin just stared at you wide-eyed, completely floored by how quickly your demeanor had changed from shy and uncomfortable to enraged and animated in mere seconds. The last time he had seen you like this was when you were going off on him and he was grateful your rage wasn't directed at him this time.

Aside from relieved, Keishin felt proud; proud of you for standing your ground.

An embarrassed look flashed across your mother's face. "Y/N, please-"

"No, just don't," you lowered your voice and took a few deep breaths. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending that I'm going to put up with your plans for me just so I can have a roof over my head. Mom, Dad, I'm not going to law school. I'm not letting you dictate my life anymore. I'm done."

Stepping away from the table, completely emotionally drained, you looked over your shoulder at Keishin. "Come on, let's go." You waved for him to follow.

Without a word, Keishin stood from the table and followed you to the front door where the two of you grabbed your jackets and got ready to leave.

"If you walk out that door, don't bother coming back!" You heard your father call after you as you left the house, but his threat didn't phase you in the least. If anything, never having to return to that house sounded like bliss right then.

Wrapping your jacket tight around your body to fight the cool evening wind, you sighed. "I'm sorry about that," you told Keishin as he walked silently beside you. "I should never have dragged you into my mess. You don't deserve to be treated the way my parents treated you."

"You don't need to apologize." He wrapped his arm around you once more and held you close, both to comfort you and to keep you warm. "I'm just worried about you. Are you okay?"

You felt tears begin to well in your eyes and frantically wiped them away. "I . . . I don't know," you answered truthfully. "I suppose I should just worry about one thing at a time, and since I've apparently got nowhere to spend the night now . . ."

"You'll spend the night at my place," Keishin stated plainly, not even bothering to ask if you wanted to or not. It was more like an order, but right then, you had nothing against him making decisions for you. As long as the choices weren't made by your parents, you didn't care who they came from.

"Okay," you exhaled. "Thank you."

As the two of you walked through the quiet night in the direction of the store, Keishin pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. Without thinking, you wrapped your arm around his waist and leaned into him, the warmth he radiated bringing you some semblance of peace.

"I'm sorry tonight went so shit," Keishin spoke as he exhaled, smoke spilling from his lips.

"It's not your fault," you told him. "In fact . . . I don't think tonight could have gone any better. In the end, this is how it was always going to turn out. It's better I realize that sooner rather than later."

Keishin stopped and looked down at you. "That's not-"

"It's okay," you said those two magic words this time. "You remember when you told me that no matter what happened they would always love me because I'm their daughter?"

Keishin nodded.

"I wish you could have been right."

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#lostinthewiind #piss off your parents #part 5 #ukai keishin x reader #coach ukai #haikyuu smut #x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #series #ukai #keishin #ukai x reader

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kornito · 3 years

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SOURCE: https://korngiant.tripod.com/kornisgoodforu/id10.html

Dead

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

All I want in life is to be happy", it's that simple. People say that it's become their own anthem. It's like whenever I start to feel good, something comes and takes it away and I feel like I'm nothing again, like I'm dead.

Falling Away From Me

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

The song is about domestic abuse and that there ways to get help whether it's telling someone or calling a help line, there are ways to get out of those situations. Noone has to be treated like that.

Trash

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

"Trash" is about how I threw my world and everything out. I threw her away. I threw my old self away. It basically comes back down to the sex thing. The battles I did on the road, this whole album is what I went through because I was on the road and I went crazy.

Beg for Me

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

"Beg For Me" is more of an angry thing because the whole thing for "Beg For Me" is the crowd. The only time I was good on tour was when I walked up onstage and that's what the song is about. Feeling wanted is something one thing I've always needed. I was shuffled around so much when I was a kid...Being up onstage was the only point was the only time when my anxiety would go away for an hour.

Make Me Bad

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

I need to feel the sickness in you" ... It's spawned from f**kin', basically, from having sex. That's where that line comes from, but it means a whole bunch of things to me. "Make Me Bad" was about the battles I had being on the road, being married and being with other women. I'm not married anymore... beause of my lifestlyle, and I just couldnt do that to my wife anymore. So that ended. But does it make me bad that I have a dick and I have f**ken other feelings to be with other people? Why should I be with just one? It seems like human beings are genetically engineered to procreate. Thats what we do, f**k everything, and that's what our natural insides want to do. It is hard to find someone like that. But she was a good woman and I didnt want to keep on... I did the right thing, I was a man about it. It was better for me to tell her and let her go on with her life and find someone who could help her and be like that. So that song was spawned by that, does it make me bad to want to be with other women? In a sence it was my only drug, why... because I dont drink anymore, I cant drink. I've been sober for a year. I dont have any other vices. So at least doing that could be something.

Hey Daddy

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

"Hey Daddy" where I was schizophrenic and there were these voices telling me to do sh*t... To kill myself, basically. Daddy is one of my nicknames, so its like I'm talking to myself the whole time. It's hard to explain.

Dirty

Song Meaning: Jonathan

"I feel like a fucking whore to record companies." "You know how it is...the way we are used and marketed." "How they make all the money off us and we don't make shit!" "The only way we make money is to go out on tour and sell merchandise" "Basiclly we write all the music and turn in and they make all the money." "So I feel like that and also I feel like a slut cuz I'd go out at night and fucking girls and so I said fuck it, I'm going to do it. The only way to escape is to have sex." "Its all kind of different issues."

Its On!

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's On is my sh*t peer pressure song. Me being so stressed out going out and partying. Everybody's just going 'Come on dude, it's on.' That's partying, it's alcohol, cocaine, women. All that wrapped into one. I wrote a song about it. And the chorus I talked about Why am I really doing this? It's all my fault that I'm doing this because all the alcohol, the booze an the chicks do is just make it worse. They just rearrange all the problems in a different order that I can deal with at that moment.

Freak on a Leash

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

One of the best titles I've heard ever for a song. That's my song against the music industry. Like me feeling like I'm f**kin' a pimp, a prostitute. Like I'm paraded around. I'm this freak paraded around but I got corporate America f**kin' making all the money while it's taking a part of me. It's like they stole something from me, they stole my innocence and I'm not calm anymore. I worry constantly.

Got the Life

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's a song baggin' on myself. How everything's always handed to me. How I look up to God and don't want this anymore. Like I want something more out of life than all this. And I've got everything I really need but I sometimes don't like. I don't know how to explain it. I have to let it sit through the songs more to actually get into what I write. I truly know, really, the meanings of the songs almost. That's what I'm getting out of it right now.

Dead Bodies Everywhere

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That was the song about my parents trying to keep me out of the music business. My father was in it and he knew how it was and I totally understand now that I have a son. I want Nathan to be a musician but I him don't want him to go through the hell I went through. That's the same thing my Dad was doing. A lot of people can relate to it, because it's like the Dad's wanting their sons to be football players and their sons want to be doctors or something. That peer pressure its like trying to make them something they're really not. And the Dead Bodies thing is like so I did it and all I got out of it was dead bodies everywhere and got all traumatized. Thanks a lot Dad, Mom.

Children of the Korn

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's the song that Ice Cube is on Cube came up with the title. I fed off of what he wrote, he was talking about growing up and puberty. Dictating what he can do, like how you gonna tell me how to live and who to f**k? And all this stuff. And I took that and in my stuff I was talking about being a kid always known as the f**kin' town faggot. It's funny how things change. That some of these people picked on me and all of a sudden look who's laughing now. Also in another of the verse I talked about all these parents f**kin hating me for what I do, saying I'm corrupting their children, but in turn these parents need to step outside of themselves and really listen to what I'm talking about. Then I think they can understand that they were kids before. They're just really quick to judge me. All the Children of The Korn are all our Korn fans. All those kids going through that sh*t and feeling what I feel.

B.B.K.

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Big black cock! That's what I call a jack and coke. Those little glasses they serve in Europe and everything. That's what I named it, big black cock. And that's another song about me dealing with the pressures of this album and how I, you know, I'm trying to kill myself, but you know? Do I really want to kill myself? Things I'm just questioning myself. Most of this is self-structured.

Pretty

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's a story about this little girl that came into the coroner's office when I was working there and she was f**ked by her dad. She was an 11 month old little baby girl. Her legs were broken back behind her and he just f**ked her like a toy doll and chucked her in the bathroom. It was the most heinous thing I've ever seen in my life and I still have nightmares about it.

All in the Family

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Fred was there after Korn TV and we said, 'Let's do a song together, Hey, man, let's go back and forth and rip on each other like an old school battle.' I don't know who's idea it was, I can't remember if it was mine or Fieldy's or Fred's but we came up with the idea and we started writing and we worked on it together. I came up with some bags on myself for Fred to say. It was all in good natured fun.

Reclaim My Place

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

This one is about the whole band and about all my life being called a homosexual. And then I became this big rock star in a band and I'm still called a fag even by my own band. So it's like I was f**kin' pissed off at them. It's like erase them all because I'm gonna reclaim my place and say hey, they owe a lot to me for what I did, and I owe a lot to them back. But, it still kinda sucks. I've never ever gotten away from that fag f**kin' title. Just because I'm a sensitive kinda guy. Kinda feminine it really sucks.

Justin

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Justin, that was the kid dying terminally with intestinal cancer. His last dying wish was to meet us and it really freaked me out. That threw a whole bunch of new kind of pressures on my head. That's really intense. Someone's gonna die and his last thing he wants to do is come hang out with us. So I truly just freaked out. It's like why would you want to meet me? What makes me so special? And in turn I talk about how I admire his strength and his life. I couldn't stare at him because he was so content he was gonna die. No one could look him in the eyes. And I totally admire his strength. I wish I had it.

Seed

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Seed. That's all about the same thing again. I laying in bed in my hotel room, thinking about do I really need all this stuff? All this pressure on me? Because I'm a stressed out freak. It's about Nathan, it's about every time that I look into his eyes, I see myself how I used to be, innocent and stress free. I'm kind of jealous of it. It really sucks, I used to be that way. It's like I have to work so hard at this thing in my life. I have to become a stressed out freak. I put food on the table for my child. Every time I look in his eyes, I just see myself staring right back at my @ss laughing. I was like care free, innocent as a child. It's really weird and I'm really jealous of it.

Cameltosis

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's a love song. It's about women in general, women who hurt me. It's Tre's lyrics. He's going on about chicks and my chorus is like I'm so scared to love anyone and really let them in after I got hurt really really bad by a girl. I've let Renee in a little bit, to be honest, but I'll never be that in love ever again. That's what I'm saying, if you've loved twice, you're gonna get f**ked, 'cause you usually do.

My Gift to You

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Renee always wanted me to write her a love song and that's why I called it My Gift To You. It's my gift to her, you know how I get sick. I always had a fantasy of f**king her and choking her to death. I fantasize about what it would look like me in her body and watching me do it. So it's like a really sick f**ked up song. I did it totally like, I love her so much, I want to take her out of this world. It's really strange. She used to leave notes on my pillow like 25 ways she'd like to kill me. She's got this weird death fetish. We're kinda f**kin' freaky. She got it. She's all 'Thank you that's kinda f**ked up. I was expecting a f**kin' I love you, baby kinda song.' I'm all, 'No, you know me.' I mean I can't do that.

Chi

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Chi is about a lot of alcohol and drug abuse. People turn to that when they have problems so that they won't have to feel their pain. The song was named after Chi Cheng from the Deftones. We named it after him because he used to call it reggae, and he loves reggae music.

Lost

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's the sterotypical thing about your best friend meeting a chick, and then you're nothing

Swallow

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's about being paranoid. Drug-induced paranoia.

Good God

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's about a guy I knew in school who I thought was a my friend, but who f**ked me. He came into my life with nothing, hung out at my house, lived off me, and made me do sh*t I didn't really wanna do." "I was into new romantic music and he was a mod, and he'd tell me if I didn't dress like a mod he wouldn't be my friend anymore."

"Whenever I had plans to go on a date with a chick he'd sabotage it, because he didn't have a date or nothing. He was a gutless f**king nothing. I haven't talked to him for years.

Mr. Rogers

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Back in the day when I was a speed freak, um... even further back when I was a little kid watchin' Mr. Rogers, that sh*t was scary. He was a freaky old man... Land of Makebelieve and Mr. f**kinMcFeely and sh*t... made me sick. So back when I was doing speed, like for 5 or 6 days I'd be trippin out and my brain would start to get freaky and get schizophrenic and stuff, and I'd tape it and watch it everyday over and over... I don't know, I was sick in the head. As a kid he told me to be polite and all it did was get me picked on. I f**king hate that man. Thanks for making me polite and trusting everyone, and easy to take advantage of. So I spent 3 months on that one song, just tweakin' on it, and it was totally just my Mr. Rogers obsession, about how evil I thought he was. Pretty much drug induced.

K @ # Ø % (Kunt)

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

People think it's sexist but it isn't. It's more subconcious b*tching at all the women who've been with me in my life. It's not about women in feneral, just those women who hurt me." "Initially, we wrote it to send to American radio for a joke, because they always chop up all the other songs. So we were going to send a 'real' single seven days later."

A.D.I.D.A.S.

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It stands for all day I dream about sex. It's about how much of a pervert my ass is, and how I daydream about what a stud I am. But when it comes down to it, I'm a f**king pussy and I'm in there jacking off.

a** Itch

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That was the last song I wrote, and I was so burned at writing out lyrics because everytime I write I get depressed because I start thinking about things, you know? So the whole song is about that. In the chorus it says, 'Before day, my sun will be dying'. It's because I put myself on the line all the time and for what? Because people aren't going to be listening to it anyway.

Kill You

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's about a relative I first met when I was 12. I f**king hate that b*tch. She's the most evil, f**ked up person I've met in my whole life. She hated my guts. She did everything she could to make my life hell. Like, when I was sick she'd feed me tea with Tabasco, which is really hot pepper oil. She'd make me drink it and say, 'You have to burn that cold out, boy'. f**ked up sh*t like that. So every night when I'd go to sleep, I'd dream of killing that b*tch. In some sick way I had a sexual fantasy about her, and I don't know what that stems from or why, but I always dreamt about f**king her and killing her

Ball Tongue

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

The meaning of ball tongue is simple. Some thought it had to do with oral sex, but in fact its about a guy we had to work with on a t-shirt (Jeff Creath). He either had a pierced tongue or a wart or something on his tongue and he was a dick to us.

Different live: Jonathan goes into a Rap (by Coolio) Called "Loddi Doddi" in the middle of the song.

Clown

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Korn was playing a show in San Diego for a clothing card. This skinhead guy came up and started flippin' me off. When we started, I bent down and the guy took a swing at me. Our tour manager, Jeff, got into it and knocked the guy out. I wrote this song about him: 'Scared to be honest with yourself/you're a cowardly man.

Faget

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Everyone thinks I'm bashing gay people in this song, and I'm not. It's really about me going through high school being called 'pussy,' 'queer' and all that stuff, about getting picked on by all these jocks.

Shoots and Ladders

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It was written because all these little kids sing these nursery rhymes and they don't know what they originally meant. Everyone is so happy when singing but 'London Bridge' is about the Black Plague. All of them have these evil stories behind them." "The lyrics are all from nursery rhymes, and a lot of nursery rhymes go back to the Middle Ages. They're actually pretty twisted if you know the stories behind them, like about Black Death and stuff.

Helmet in the Bush

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's about a speed problem that I had. You know, you do a lot of speed and -- if you're a male -- your penis retracts severly. The guy heard at the beginning of the song is La Caco, a friend of the band. His real name is Michael and likes taco bell. He's a really Nice Guy and he has been friends with the band for years

Daddy

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

People think daddy' was writen because my dad f**ked me up the ass,thats not what the song's about. It wasn't about my dad or my mum. When I was a kid I was being abused by someone else and I went to my parents and told them about it. and they thought I was lying and joking around, they never did sh*t about it. They didn't belive it was happening to their son. I don't like to talk about that song, this is the most I've ever talked about it...

#korn #jonathan davis #just thought it was interesting

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fulcrumahsokaamidala · 3 years

Text

Weekly fic rec #1

So it's been a while since I've done one of these. These used to be called spectacular Saturday (or Sunday whenever I remembered to post) fic rec. But I'm revamping because when they were under that name I was reading mostly Arrow fics but now I read mostly Star Wars (Mainly clone wars era).

However, I still want to get back into highlighting the great fics that I've been reading. All posts new and old will be under #weekly fic rec

Coming to Terms by Mudkipwrites | One-shot | Star Wars: Rebels

Summary: Hera Syndulla has just lost her partner. Now pregnant with child and heavy with grief, she leans on her family and learns how to carry on.

Stumbling Blocks by BatmanWhoLaughss | One-shot | Star Wars: Rebels

Summary: So she waits, even though it kills her to do it, running so many tests on the Ghost that they won’t need to check the main systems for another two months. Until eventually, after a couple hours have passed, she vacates her perch in the pilot’s chair and makes her way to Kanan’s room.

But when Hera gets there, keying open his door to find him curled up in the corner and surrounded by two mostly-empty bottles of liquor, she curses herself for being an utter, utter fool.

[otherwise known as "kanan was a raging alcoholic for years of his life and no one ever talks about it, so I'm going to"]

Messes of Our Own Making by carry_on_wayward_sister | One-shot | Star Wars: The Clone Wars

Summary: “Are you kriffing serious, Snips?! What happened here???”, Anakin cried exasperated when he tiredly shuffled into the common area of the apartment he shared with the aforementioned padawan. No answer. What had greeted him as he left his room after a well deserved night of sleep was not per se an unfamiliar sight. It was, however, drastically worse than usual.

Or:

Chaos, bickering and lineage feels.

The ghosts we leave behind by echoknight | WIP | Star Wars: Rebels

Summary: Falling in love was inevitable. Becoming a family was a choice.

A series of short stories about the Rebels family, and how they came to be that way.

PrepPy GoThic LoVe by @cruzrogue | WIP | Arrow

Summary: New Freshman at MIT, Felicity wants to party and she meets another drunken party guest Oliver and they hit it off. Not really thinking of consequences have a wonderful time together. Oliver been to two different schools and this one he finally wants to do better because of a beacon of hope that rubbed off on him with just one night a passionate gothic girl changes him for the better.

Cobalt & Gold by @communistkenobi | One-shot | Star Wars: The Clone Wars

Summary: Sieges were always brutal affairs, and the camp was in low spirits. Ahsoka enlists some help to cheer everyone up.

i'm only me when i'm with you idiots by renegadeontherunn | One-shot | Star Wars: The Clone Wars

Summary: who let Obi-Wan pick the holo? and where's the remote?

they might need a bigger blanket.

[or, Anakin, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan have leave on Coruscant and holo night is the perfect excuse to all squeeze onto a couch together, bicker, and be, well, a family]

Jedi Night by LeiasLeftBun | WIP | Star Wars: Rebels

Summary: This is pretty much a Jedi Night fix-it that branches off into what I like to think would have happened after Rebels. With less death of good characters.

Gentle Hands by @novembermurray | One-shot | Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Summary: As Din lets the Sorgan villagers return to their usual work after blaster training, he notices Omera is injured.

A Delighted Preoccupation by clio | One-shot: Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Summary: Omera, he comes to understand, is many things. A mother. A widow. An ace shot. Omera is good.

Kind.

Beautiful.

But most of all, he realizes, is that she is distracting.

Not that it’s a problem.

Dominoes by @meridiansdominoes | WIP | Star Wars: The Clone Wars

Summary: "So. We died." Hevy's voice is flat.

“Yes, we died,” Fives confirms. Even though his hands are steady on Echo’s shoulders, his voice trembles. “We all… remember, right?”

Everyone nods. Droidbait shudders, and shuffles closer to Cutup.

“How is that possible?” he mutters. “We’re not Jedi. We can’t… see the kriffing future, or whatever it was. We can’t—it’s just not possible. How could we all have had the same dream?”

Domino squad wakes up to find themselves back on Kamino, hours from taking their final test... except they remember passing the final test, and they each remember dying afterwards, too.

lost again with no surprises by @katierosefun | WIP | Star Wars: The Clone Wars

Summary: When Anakin goes missing under mysterious circumstances, Obi-Wan takes it upon himself to find his former apprentice. However, finding Anakin is no easy task—which is why Obi-Wan teams up with a particular former grandpadawan.

[or: a galaxy-wide road trip au because nothing says ‘fix your family issues’ like a good old road trip between a Jedi dad and his estranged daughter.]

Wardrobe Malfunction by BatmanWhoLaughss | One-shot | Star Wars: Rebes

Summary: Inspired by this piece of art by @NeeeAnn on twitter

Kanan loses a bet, and the results are predictably ridiculous.

Chasing the Past by BatmanWhoLaughss | One-shot | Star Wars: The Clone Wars

Summary: “You… you look like him.” The voice was quiet, almost awestruck, and Luke turned, startled. With his lightsaber in hand, he took a defensive position, stepping back and taking in the newcomer.

Standing before him and watching him with a warm, thoughtful expression, was a tall woman in a white cloak-- a Togruta, he realized. Her blue eyes were trained on him intensely, but as she slowly pulled back her hood, he saw she was smiling softly. She carried twin sabers at her waist, Luke realized with a jolt, and as he watched her warily, he felt… calmed, somehow. There was a sense of familiarity about her—he could feel it in the Force. It was like he… knew her somehow, even though he’d never seen this woman before.

It was unnerving.

I Scream But No Sound Comes out by @laxit21 | WIP | Arrow

Summary: When Oliver returns from Lian Yu after five years, he comes back different. What happened there damaged more than just his body. How will his friends and family deal with this new Oliver?

Space Dad Lives by @maximumsuckage | WIP| Star Wars

Summary: AU starting directly after TPM. Qui-gon didn't die, but he's sure not okay after taking a lightsaber to the gut. Obi-wan, still reeling after Mandalore, is now the hero who killed a Sith and vowed to train the Chosen One. Anakin is going to be a Jedi so he can free his mother and his people.

And the healers are kind of sick of dealing with the Jinn/Kenobi team.

#weekly fic recs #i'm back baby #here we go again #star wars fanfiction #arrow fanfiction

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agentlemuse · 3 years

Note

Dea!!! I am so in love with your Buddie the old guard fic I've read it so many times now I LOVE IT could you maybe write a little sequel to it with Eddie whitnessing Buck dying and coming back to life for the first time! No pressure obvs but you'd make me super happy! thanks again for writing the buddie old guard au fic ITS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!

Hayley I am so sorry for making you wait!

Also on AO3

“How much are you willing to wager,” Hen challenges, her own stack of bills being dropped on the table like a declaration of war.

Chim eyes everyone carefully, emptying out all the money in his wallet with a confident pop of his gum. “I’m all in. Buck?”

“All in. Eddie?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on! It’s tradition,” Buck begs, practically pouting as he tries to get Eddie to join in on the bet. He refuses every time and every time Buck acts surprised.

“Pretty sure the only tradition here is them getting all of your money,” Eddie points out with a smirk, earning a sharp laugh from Athena.

“You are too young to be this lame,” Buck sighs dramatically as Eddie rolls his eyes. He might be lame, but at least he will keep his money.

Just like that Hen is crowing as Buck laments his defeat. He looks to him with wide eyes in hopes of sympathy but all Eddie can do is laugh. He did warn him.

Athena and Bobby were chuckling fondly from their spot in the corner, speaking to each other without saying a word as they do often do. After one night of partaking in too much of Hen’s sangria he asked Buck if they had developed telepathic powers and Buck laughed so hard he snorted red wine out his nose. Considering their immortal status he didn’t think it was quite that funny, but Buck disagreed.

Looking at them now he still says it was a valid question.

“Okay everyone listen up,” Athena announces, drawing the attention of everyone with the simple command. “We have some news.”

“New job,” Buck asks eagerly, already wanting to speed ahead.

Bobby and Athena share a sad look and for the first time since Eddie has known them they look like they’re struggling to find the words to say. Athena stands, picking at a scab on her arm.

A scab.

She shouldn’t have a—

“I’m mortal.”

It’s funny how you can live for a millennia and a single moment can still knock you to your knees.

Athena could still have three, maybe even four, decades with them, but suddenly each moment is finite. He knew this was possible, Buck had told him about Abby, but it wasn’t real until now.

He may not know her as well as the others; hasn’t watched dynasties rise and fall with her, but she’s his family now. He foolishly thought he’d have more time before saying goodbye to family again.

But it’s not about him. It’s about Athena. It’s about the people who have loved her for centuries trying to wrap their minds around life without her.

Eddie doesn’t know much about Buck’s parents, partly because there isn’t much worth remembering from the way Buck tells it, but Athena is his mother for all intents and purposes. Now that she’s - not vulnerable (she’d stab him for even thinking it) - mortal, Buck has been like an overprotective mother hen. Athena has looked ready to strangle him on more than one occasion and he’s pretty sure the fussing is more likely to take years off her life than anything else.

And it’s sweet. Funny even, how Athena looks at him with such exasperated fondness.

Only that overprotectiveness makes a reckless Buck even more reckless.

Which, fine, Buck’s immortal. For now. Because that’s the thing, isn’t it? The idea that immortality just ends was hypothetical before now.

And Buck is—

Buck is—

Buck is his family. His person. The only reason he doesn’t spend this eternity of his lamenting every new day.

Buck has been on this earth for nearly a millennia without him, but Eddie doesn’t want to live without him. Not for a thousand years or a thousand days or even a thousand minutes. Not because he needs Buck, but because he wants him. He wants his kind eyes and infectious laughter beside his side. He wants the feel of his breath on the back of his neck as he lays curled in behind him. He’s not sure he can go back to sleeping alone.

A shame he’ll need roughly a thousand years to figure out a way to finally tell him, which is not going to happen with Buck being so eager to get himself killed.

Buck insists on throwing himself into danger, which means Eddie has to throw himself further. He’s younger, newer, he can take more hits. He knows logically that Buck must have died hundreds of times before him, but he hasn’t died since Eddie killed him. Maybe he can’t keep him alive forever, but he can certainly try.

Bobby catches on first.

“Nasty hit you took today.”

“I’ve had worse,” Eddie says nonchalantly, fingers flexing against a phantom wound long since healed. Buck stormed out earlier, pissed he jumped in front of a bullet for him only to bleed out slowly. Tonight Buck will hold him closer, making sure he’s still in one piece; a bittersweet ritual they’ve formed together. He’ll take the anger if it keeps Buck safe.

“You’ve been taking a lot of hits lately.”

“Saying I should work on my ducking skills?”

“Saying you can’t take them all,” Bobby replies, cutting off whatever comment he might be opening his mouth to say with a look. “When is the last time Buck died?”

“You should ask—“

“When?”

“When I shot him,” Eddie admits, jaw clenching.

“He’s had a good run, but good runs end. He knows what’s at stake just like everyone else. We can’t outrun the inevitable. You’ll drive yourself crazy if you try,” Bobby says softly, an unspoken pain behind his eyes. “Don’t miss out on the good worrying about the bad.”

“Wouldn’t have to if he wasn’t so eager to put himself in harm’s way,” Eddie deflects, no real malice in his words.

“Funny, that’s what Buck said about Athena.”

That was hardly the same. Buck is being reckless, Eddie is just—

Well it’s not like he can take care of him through his cooking, now can he?

The next few months they take it easy on the missions, focusing on time together as a family. It’s good, great even, but it’s only a matter of time before the world has a need for their set of skills.

Which is how they find themselves in this dimly lit warehouse in what is clearly a trap.

He and Buck have taken the front, trying to clear a path to the escape route so they can’t get pinned in. The sharp pops of bullets flood his ears, a fog of plaster dust filling the air as bullets lodge in walls instead of bone.

There are too many blind spots and not enough cover.

There’s shouting, cries of pain, but none of them familiar. They’re gaining ground, they’re getting out, they’re—

The sick sound of a bullet striking flesh, muscle, bone enters his ear. A spray of blood hits his cheek.

Eddie turns to see Buck crumple against the ground.

Suddenly there is no noise, no friends or foes. There was only Buck lifeless on the floor, his head a gaping wound of brain matter and skull.

He falls to his knees beside him, blood soaking his trousers as he reaches out to help him. Only, he doesn’t know how to fix this.

“Buck, wake up. Buck. Buck.” He doesn’t recognize his voice, doesn’t recognize the frantic panic of this strange sound coming out of his mouth.

He thinks of all those zombie movies he used to watch with his sisters when he was young. The only way to kill them was to take out the brain. They couldn’t come back from that. Buck couldn’t—

Eddie shot him in the head once, but this was different. There hadn’t been this hole. There hadn’t been brain matter scattered across the floor. Buck hadn’t taken this long to wake up.

He can’t do this without him. He doesn’t want to do this without him.

“Wake up, wake up, you have to wake up,” Eddie demands, then begs.

“Eddie, we have to keep going,” Chim says from across the room, providing cover from enemies he couldn’t care less about. “He’ll catch up.”

He ignores him. Of course he ignores him. He can’t leave Buck. He’s going to wake up, he has to, so why is it taking so long?

The team moves on, because there is no other choice if they want to get out of here, but Eddie doesn’t move. He waits for a sign of life, anything, but Buck stays perfectly still. He should be healing already, blue eyes fluttering and a smile on his lips. He shouldn’t be so still and pale under the stark stream of red.

He’s so lost waiting for puffs of air that aren’t coming he misses the footsteps behind him. It’s not until he feels rough hands grabbing at him that he remembers the fight. He feels a knife slide through his ribs as they try to drag him back. He thrashes wildly, scrambling for any weakness he can exploit. They’re not going to take him away from Buck. He’s not leaving him alone. He’s not—

A single shot rings out and the man Eddie was fighting falls.

Eddie turns back to Buck who is sitting up with a gun in hand.

Eddie scrambles over to him, pulling him close, feeling the side of his head to make sure he’s whole.

“Eddie, we need to catch up with the others,” Buck urges, already back in the game. How can he be so calm? How can he be so steady? “Eddie. Eddie.”

“Your birthmark grew back.”

Buck’s face grows soft for a moment, letting out a puff of breath like it was punched out of him. Eddie can feel the wound on his side healing, but he ignores it, busy feeling the pulse of Buck’s heartbeat where his hand rests on Buck’s neck.

“Eddie, we have to keep going.”

“You weren’t waking up. You took so long to wake up.”

“I’m here, Eddie,” Buck insists, resting his forehead warm and whole against Eddie’s. “I’m here. I’m not leaving you, okay? I won’t leave you. Now let’s go.”

Eddie goes with him because there is no other option. He doesn’t want to be anywhere without him.

It doesn’t doesn’t get any easier to watch him die, but Buck always comes back to him. He has to believe he always will.

#9-1-1 #buddie #evan buckley #Eddie Diaz #old guard AU #Cw: gun violence #Cw: gore #Cw: death (brief)#my stuff #for Hayley who has been waiting forever #happy Valentine’s have AU nonsense

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cocastyle · 4 years

Text

Change - Ch. 2 | F I V E

Pairing - Bill Denbrough x reader

Word Count - 6,390

A/N - sorry for the wait but I’m going to be starting college soon so I’ve been busy with family, friends, and buying stuff for my dorm. I’m hoping to start writing updates again so here’s the first one many! let me know what you think especially with Greyson in the mix because I just love him so much! also, let me know if you like me including the flashbacks because I kind of loved it and was thinking about including more than what is just in the movie!

if you would like to be added to the tag list for this series let me know!

C H A N G E

Change Series Masterlist

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F I V E - Remember

* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *

Y/N stared up at the Derry Townhouse in front of her, a sick feeling in her stomach as she realized that she had to go in there and convince her friends to stay. If there was any shot of them defeating It, it had to be with all of them there. That's how they defeated It last time and that was the only way they would be able to defeat It this time.

She knew her friends would think she was crazy. She was well aware of the fact. Y/N just wasn't sure what she was going to say or if she was even ready to face them after what they had all just found out. She wasn't ready for the looks of pity or the reminders of Stan especially since her heart was already so fragile that one more blow might actually kill her.

The woman found herself spiraling down a whirlpool of her own thoughts and she would've only gotten worse if it weren't for Greyson gently grabbing ahold of her hand and giving it a squeeze. Y/N glanced at the boy, his red eyes matching hers despite the small reassuring smile on his face.

Y/N really didn't deserve Greyson as a son. It was almost too good to be true.

"Together," Greyson whispered, reminding her once again that she wasn't alone no matter how much she felt like she was without Stan. Y/N gave a short nod and squeezed Greyson's hand once before the two began walking up the steps of the townhouse.

They were inside within seconds and were instantly met with Richie yelling at Ben and Beverly with his bag hanging from his shoulder, "Whatever you guys are talking about, let's make it happen fast, alright? We got to go." He turned towards the stairs and yelled up, "Edwardo, andele! Let's go!"

Richie then seemed to notice the presence of Y/N and Greyson and let out a small sigh of relief. "I don't know where the fuck you've been, but go grab your shit. We're getting out of here pronto," Richie announced as he walked over to behind the girl and began lightly shoving her towards the steps. "Come on, Uris. Move it."

"Rich, I can't," Y/N managed to say, her words causing the man to freeze before letting out a loud laugh.

"Real funny, Y/N. Now come on. I'm not leaving here until I know you're safe and on your way home," Richie insisted as he tried to move her again.

"Richie," Y/N sighed, but the man was barely listening to her as he caught wind of Beverly and Ben's conversation in which Y/N and Greyson couldn't help but listen to either.

"There's something you're not telling us. You knew how Stanley died. You knew," Ben said, his words making the three wide eyed while Beverly just remained silent.

"Wait, what?" Richie questioned as he let go of Y/N and walked into the small parlor the pair was in. Y/N quickly followed after, coming to a stop beside Richie while Greyson came up behind them.

"You. . .knew?" Y/N whispered, a flicker of hurt flashing through her eyes while Beverly lowered her gaze to the floor.

"I can't do this," Beverly muttered before brushing past the four and attempting to walk away into a different room.

"She knew how Stanley was going to die? Is that what she just said?" Richie asked, but Ben and Y/N were already following after the red head. Richie glanced to Greyson who merely shrugged. The man noticed his red eyes and sighed before placing a hand on the kid's shoulder in comfort as they walked after the three.

"You can't just walk away from this," Ben insisted while Beverly rapidly rang the bell at the front desk. "How did you know where he killed himself? Bev."

The red head ignored them and moved around the counter. "Talk to me. Just talk to me like we used to!" Ben exclaimed, but when his attempts still didn't work, Y/N stepped in and was quick to stand in front of the girl to stop her from moving.

Beverly was quiet as she stared at Y/N, the later staring at the red head in a mixture of pain and sadness as she reached out to grab onto Beverly's hand. "Bev, please," Y/N whispered, her eyes flickering over the girl's face as she desperately squeezed her hand.

If Beverly had known that Stan was going to die, Y/N needed to know how and why. It just didn't make sense. None of this did. And Y/N really just wanted the whole picture. She deserved that much.

Beverly let out a shaky breath, tears beginning to fill her eyes as she whispered, "Because I saw it. I've seen all of us die, even—" She trailed off as her eyes flickered over to Greyson. Y/N's breath caught in her throat and she glanced back at her son who stared back wide eyed while Richie tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder.

A heavy silence fell among the group as Beverly's words began to sink in. No one even bothered glancing at Eddie who was noisily making his way down the stairs with his two bags that kept banging against the wooden railing and wall.

"Okay. I just got to grab my toiletry bag and then we can go," Eddie announced as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He set his bags down and looked up at the group, pausing almost instantly at the looks on their faces while Y/N finally glanced over at him. The look she gave him made his blood run cold.

"What'd I miss?"

- - -

"Okay, so what do you mean that you've seen us all die?" Eddie questioned, not being able to fathom what Beverly meant. Y/N just put her head in her hands, the regret of deciding to stay coursing through her body while Greyson just sat silent by her side at the mini bar in the room they were in.

"Yeah, cause I got to be honest. That's a fucked up thing to just drop on somebody," Richie muttered.

"Every night since Derry I've been. . .having these nightmares," Beverly explained. "People in pain. People dying. People—" She fell short as a look of horror and pain flashed across her face.

"So you have nightmares?" Eddie questioned as he stopped next to Y/N's chair and leaned against the back. "I have nightmares. People, they have nightmares. But that doesn't mean that your visions are true."

He nudged Y/N and the woman glanced back at him to find Eddie giving her a look as if to ask her to back him up, but for once she couldn't. Y/N just looked away and Eddie swallowed thickly, dread washing over him as he looked to Beverly.

"I've watched every single one of us this week," Beverly whispered, her words making Y/N lean further into her hands as she shook her head.

"You've seen every single one of us what?" a new voice questioned. Y/N sat up almost instantly, her head turning around so quickly she could've gotten whiplash. Her eyes locked on Bill who was already staring back at her from where he stood beside Mike, a small look of surprise and relief on his face at seeing her sitting there.

Y/N didn't know why she had the sudden urge to cross the room and fall into the man's arms, but she did and somehow she was able to keep herself in her seat. Bill's eyes flashed with an unreadable expression as he stared at her, but then he seemed to remember what he had been saying and blinked before looking back down at Beverly.

"To the place where Stanley wound up. That's how we end," Beverly said, her eyes flickering over to Y/N who immediately avoided eye contact and stared down at her hands. A hand was placed on top of her own and Y/N glanced to her side where Greyson was giving her a soft reassuring smile as he squeezed her hand. Y/N squeezed his hand back, her heart warming at just how amazing her son was.

"Okay, how come the rest of us aren't seeing that shit? What—what makes her so different?" Richie asked.

"The dead lights," Y/N muttered, her whole body feeling as if it had suddenly been dunked under cold water. She distantly saw Beverly floating in the air, her eyes glazed over as she floated above them trapped in some sort of prison that Pennywise was able to conjure.

Everyone's eyes flickered over to her and Y/N sighed before taking her free hand and running it through her hair while the other one held on tightly to her son. "It's the only thing that makes sense. No one else's got trapped in the dead lights, only Bev," she explained.

"She was the only one of us that got caught in the dead lights that day," Bill muttered as the memory came back to him and the others.

The man shook his head and crossed the room to sit in the seat beside Y/N, plopping down in disbelief while Greyson watched his mother gently reach out and place a hand on Bill's shoulder. Bill's hand flew up instantly, settling on top of her own and holding onto it tightly before the two exchanged a small look.

"We were all touched by it. Changed. Deep down like an infection or a virus. A virus! You understand! Slowly—" Mike tried to say as he reached out for Eddie, but the man quickly slid past him and began pacing around the room. "That virus, it's been growing for twenty seven years. This whole time metastasizing. It just got to Stan first because—"

"He's the weakest," Richie said and before anyone could even blink, Y/N had slammed her hand on the counter in order to push her up off her seat. She was in front of Richie in a matter of seconds, her finger pointed at his chest while a look of pure fury dawned her face.

Tears pooled in her eyes as she darkly said, "Stanley was not weak. He. . .he was brave and kind and. . .and—" Y/N had to pause in order to stop the sob that had begun to cross her lips. "And a better man than you will ever be!"

Richie's face softened as he looked down at his friend and for a moment it was like he saw the same thirteen year old that had been his best friend all of those years ago, the same girl who rarely left her cousin's side and loved him with all of her heart. Fuck, he was an asshole, wasn't he?

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to hurt you," Richie whispered as he carefully reached out and wrapped his arms around the girl, pulling her closer to his body for a hug. She fell against him with no fighting, her body limp against his own while her hands balled into fists on his jacket.

A soft sob escaped her lips and she weakly shook the man as she said again, "Stanley's not weak. He's not. . .he's not weak."

Richie just held her tighter, his eyes flickering up to the others who were all glaring at him. He gave them all an apologetic smile and most of them shook their heads and looked away, but Bill and Greyson continued to glare at Richie from where they sat next to each other at the counter.

"What Beverly sees, it will come to pass," Mike said after a moment of silence where Y/N finally managed to calm herself down enough to look back at the others while Richie continued to hold her comfortingly which no one bothered pointing out. He had always had a soft spot for the girl since they were younger and now was no exception, especially considering the fact that he had been the one to make her upset. "It's what'll happen to all of us eventually unless we stop it."

"How the hell are we supposed to do that?" Eddie questioned, glancing over at Y/N to see if she was alright and smiling softly as he watched her pull away from Richie and return the soft smile that Richie was giving her as he brushed her hair out of her face and whispered another apology.

"The ritual of Chüd," Mike told them.

Y/N scrunched up her nose, wiping at her eyes to get rid of the last of her tears as she pushed her emotions aside and tried to be the brave girl she had been twenty seven years ago when she first fought the clown. "The ritual of what now?" she questioned, her and Richie sharing a look of disgust and confusion.

"Chüd," Mike said again. "The Shokapiwah, the first ones who fought it, they have a saying. All living things must abide by the laws of the shape they inhabit."

"Tribal ritual? Are you fucking kidding me, man?" Richie questioned while Y/N just shook her head and walked over to the line of alcohol bottles on the wall. She was quick to grab a bottle and pour herself a shot before downing it in a matter of seconds. She could feel eyes on her and glanced over at her son who had an eyebrow raised. Sighing, Y/N poured herself one last shot and set the bottle down before walking over to the counter and leaning opposite of Greyson.

"There's gotta be another way," Y/N insisted, downing her last shot and setting the glass down while Bill sneaked a worried look in her direction.

"Y/N's right. This thing comes back what? Every twenty seven years? Let's kick the can down the road and do it then," Richie suggested.

"We'll be seventy years old, asshole," Eddie pointed out.

Y/N winced. "Yeah, I'd like to think I'll be up and kicking at seventy, but I'll have one foot in the grave before I can even think about fighting some fucking clown at that age," she muttered.

"It doesn't work that way," Beverly assured her. "None of us make it another twenty years, not even Greyson, and the way it happens—"

Beverly trailed off again and Y/N glanced at Greyson before clenching her jaw. "You trailing off every time you're about to say something horrible does not make this any less terrifying," Y/N said, her eyes locking on Bill who had his concerned gaze on Greyson as if he couldn't imagine the kid dying a horrible death this early in his life because of Pennywise.

"So if we don't beat It this cycle then we die," Ben concluded.

"Horrible," Eddie added.

"Yeah, I don't need the horrible part," Richie assured the man.

"I didn't say it, she said it. Not me," Eddie muttered.

"Wow, such great options we have. Either give up and die, lose and die, or somehow pull a win out of asses and actually get to live the rest of our lives. I'm loving this whole reunion thing so far," Y/N grumbled, earning a small glare from Greyson as the boy silently told her to play nice.

"Alright guys, look," Bill said as he pushed himself up off his seat, patting Greyson's shoulder once before glancing around at his friends. "I've seen w-w-what he's talking about and it's. . .it's all true." Bill's eyes stopped on Y/N and she lightly shook her head at him, but he only gave her a small look as he whispered, "It's the only way."

Y/N bit her lip at that, staring silently at Bill as she tried to decide if she actually had to do this. But then she was reminded of Stanley and how she wanted to make him proud. She was reminded of Greyson who had a future she needed to protect. She was reminded of the Losers', her friends who she made a pact with long ago at the age of thirteen to return and defeat this clown once and for all.

And then there was Bill. Bill Denbrough, the boy who she hadn't remembered until Mike spoke to her over the phone but the boy who she knew had meant so much to her back in the day. This was the boy who had willingly offered to sacrifice himself to Pennywise in order for them to escape and the same boy who had comforted her after her parents' divorce.

There is no way I'm leaving you behind. And there is absolutely no fucking way I'm going to be able to live a happy life without you in it.

You make me happy, Bill Denbrough.

"Fuck," Y/N whispered as she ran a hand through her hair in frustration. She let out a sigh of exasperation and looked at Bill a moment longer, the man giving her a shy smile for he knew she was breaking. She was quick to look away and instead turned her attention to Mike. "If you want this ritual to work—" she trailed off, ignoring the small sighs coming from Eddie and Richie as they both hung their head because they knew if Y/N stayed that meant they would be staying as well.

"We have to remember," Mike told her, his words making the group hesitate while Greyson began to smile excitedly.

"Remember what?"

- - -

"No fucking way," Y/N breathed out as her eyes flickered around the scenery that surrounded her. "The Barrens." Subconsciously, Y/N glanced over to her side, a small smile on her face as she expected a certain curly haired boy to be standing with her.

She was met with nothing but empty space.

Her smile instantly vanished as she was once again reminded that her cousin was gone, but she didn't have long to think about it before a hand gently grabbed ahold of her shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze. Y/N turned, relaxing a bit at the sight of Bill standing there but also feeling her stomach erupt with butterflies almost instantly.

She momentarily saw Greyson glance back at her and Bill from where he stood beside Richie and Eddie who were also looking back. The three all gave her different looks, Greyson smiling with a thumbs up while Richie smirked and Eddie gave her a knowing look. Y/N quickly ignored them and instead looked back at Bill who was watching her expectantly.

Realizing she had missed his question, Bill chuckled before saying, "I asked how you are doing."

"Oh, uh. . .fine. Fine. Fine," she said, wincing slightly at her own words while Bill raised an eyebrow at her. Y/N let out a soft sigh, "We can talk about this later, okay? Right now is really not the time."

"Right, of course," Bill nodded, letting his hand fall back down to his side. "I just. . .I'm here, okay? You're not alone in this."

Y/N hesitated at that, her eyes flickering up to lock with Bill's before she smiled her first genuine smile since the news of Stan's death. Bill almost swooned at the sight and he swore his heart leapt out of his chest for a moment when Y/N brushed her hand against his before grabbing onto it and intertwining their fingers together.

"I know," she whispered, chuckling softly at the sight of Bill's red cheeks while he gripped onto her hand just as tight.

"This is where we came," Ben spoke up, his voice snapping the two out of their trance. They glanced over at Ben before looking around at the part of the forest they were in which looked really familiar. "After the rock fight."

"Ah, the rock fight," Y/N sighed. "Henry Bowers didn't know what hit him. You remember us telling him off, Rich?"

"How could I forget? That was the day I learned you had such a potty mouth, sweetheart," Richie teased, glancing back at the girl and tossing a wink in her direction.

"You're telling me Mom didn't come out of the womb telling everyone off?" Greyson asked, quickly holding his hands up in surrender when Y/N playfully glared in his direction.

Richie suddenly let out a small gasp, his eyes widening as he said, "The Clubhouse."

"Holy shit," Y/N laughed, squeezing Bill's hand as she glanced at the man. "We use to sneak out here all the time." Richie immediately wiggled his eyebrows at the two and Y/N frowned before letting go of Bill's hand in order to walk over to her friend and whack the back of his head. "Not in that way, dumbass. I started coming out here by myself when everything going on with my parents just became too much and Bill often joined me."

"Did you and Bill have a thing?" Greyson suddenly questioned, trying to hide his smug grin behind a curious expression that Y/N saw right through.

However, she wasn't able to handle the situation very well because the suddenness of the question made her face instantly turn bright red and Bill wasn't much better.

"Oh, they totally had the hots for each other," Richie assured the kid. "In fact, they even—"

"Okay! That's enough!" Y/N exclaimed. "We're getting off subject. We were talking about the Clubhouse, remember? Ben, you built that for us if I am remembering correctly, didn't you?"

"Yeah, the hatch has got to be around here someplace," Eddie agreed, sending a small look in Y/N's direction before grabbing ahold of Greyson's shoulder and beginning to push him forwards. "Come on, Grey. You're gonna want to see this."

The two walked off in search of the hatch along with the others leaving Bill and Y/N to awkwardly stand there before the woman abruptly turned around. "I'm sorry about Greyson. He doesn't exactly know when it's appropriate to ask personal questions like that," Y/N said.

Bill just smiled and stuffed his hands in his pockets before saying, "No, it's fine. He's a curious boy is all. Just like his mother."

"At least he's not walking into sewers looking for missing children," Y/N joked, her words making both of them halt. The woman blinked and furrowed her eyebrows. "I'm sorry. That kind of just slipped out. I. . .I don't even—"

"Remember that much?" Bill finished, an understanding look crossing his face. "Me too. Although, I do remember some things." His eyes flickered over her face for a moment as if he were trying to find some hidden answer. "What. . .what do you r-r-remember?"

"Just some of the basics like spending the summer with Stanley because of my parents. Meeting everyone and that fucking house It resides in. And I remember some of the fighting, but not that much other than that," Y/N explained.

"Any—anything else?" Bill asked, his eyes still scanning her face and making Y/N's cheeks heat up a bit.

Was there something she was forgetting? She only remembered what she had told Bill and then the fact that she had a huge crush on him back then and that it seemed like he had liked her too.

"No," Y/N hesitantly said, a sinking feeling growing in her stomach once she saw the smile wipe off Bill's face. "Is there something you remember that I don't?"

Bill lowered his gaze to the floor and quickly shook his head. "No, no. Nothing important anyways. Don't worry about it," he assured her, although the tone of his voice told Y/N a different story.

"Bill—" Y/N began, but she was cut off by Ben's voice suddenly calling out to them. Bill was quick to brush past her as he walked over to the others, an action that made Y/N frown and stare after him.

So she was definitely not remembering something, but what?

"You know, I actually think the door was more like around—" Ben started to say, but he fell short when the ground beneath him suddenly gave way and he fell tumbling into what was below.

Y/N's hand flew over her mouth in an attempt to stop her laughter and the others had to stifle their laughter as well while Greyson walked over to the edge of the hole and looked down with a cheeky grin. "You okay there, buddy?" Greyson asked, earning a small groan in response.

"Found it," Ben's muffled voice could be heard calling out. "I'm okay! Come down!"

Everyone hesitantly stared at the hole while Greyson glanced at his mother as if to ask her what their next move was. For a moment, Y/N was met with a memory that she hadn't thought of in quite some time. A small smile appeared on her face as she walked over to the hole, glancing back at the others and giving them a mock salute that made some of them blink in surprise at the familiarity of the scene. In fact, it was like they could see a thirteen year old version of Y/N doing the exact same thing.

Y/N stared down at the hole before letting out a shaky breath. "Welcome back to the Clubhouse, Y/N," she whispered. And with that, she began to make her descent back into the clubhouse of her past.

- - -

1989

"What do you think it is?" Y/N questioned as she rested her head against her hand and looked up at the sky. "A new jump off spot at the Quarry? Some secret passage that will take us to Narnia?"

"Y/N, I don't think it's any of those things," Stan chuckled, glancing over at his cousin as a wide smile appeared on his face.

"Why not? Ben said he had something to show us. It could literally be anything in the world!" Y/N exclaimed happily, throwing her hands up in the air for exaggeration and making Richie groan.

"I hope it's a back brace because I'm going to need it if you keep moving around like that," Richie grumbled below Y/N who he was currently carrying on his back through the woods.

"And whose fault is that?" Y/N inquired, a smirk on her face as she glanced down at the boy. Richie frowned and Y/N chuckled before reaching out and pushing his glasses back up his nose which in turn received a thankful glance from the boy.

"You were the one who bet Y/N couldn't do a round off back handspring followed by four flips in the air before hitting the water at the Quarry," Eddie pointed out, earning a small glare from Richie.

"How was I supposed to know she did gymnastics for seven fucking years? She didn't disclose that information to me. This isn't fair," Richie complained.

"Quit complaining, Rich," Mike laughed, pushing a tree branch out of the way in order for Richie to walk under it successfully without Y/N being hit. "It could be worse. She could've made you do literally anything else, but all she's doing is making you give her a piggyback ride."

"Yeah, through the fucking forest," Richie grumbled. "I really think you just love to torture me, sweetheart."

"It's my job," Y/N replied with a smug look on her face.

"I can't!" Richie exclaimed suddenly placing the girl on the ground and putting his arms up in the air in order to stretch. "I think my back is about to spaz out or something."

"Rich—" Y/N began, a bit of concern flashing through her eyes as she looked at the boy.

"It's fine, Richie. I'll carry her for you so that you don't have to worry about it anymore," Bill spoke up, his words making Y/N's eyes widen as she quickly spun around to look at the boy.

He stood there with his hands in his pocket, a shy grin on his face as he let his eyes flicker over to her. "As long as that is okay, of course," Bill whispered.

"Thank you!" Richie exclaimed before beginning to shove Y/N over to the boy. "I know I practically carry the whole group with my dazzling personality, but I didn't think I'd literally have to carry one of you. Please, just take her."

If Y/N had wanted to protest, she had no chance for Richie had shoved her forward one last time and she was suddenly face to face with Bill. Her mouth hung open a bit, her face beginning to heat up while her heart beat rapidly in her chest.

"You sure you're okay with this?" Y/N questioned, hesitantly watching Bill who just gave her a warm smile and nodded his head before turning around in order for her to climb onto his back.

Y/N let out a shaky breath and placed her hands on Bill's shoulders before jumping up, the boy catching her legs while she desperately wrapped her arms around his neck and dug her face into the crook of his neck in order not to fall off. Once she was sure she was okay, Y/N peeled her eyes open and let out a small sigh of relief as Bill began to walk once again, this time with her gently holding onto him for a piggyback ride.

Y/N glanced over in Richie's direction to check and see how he was doing before her eyes widened at the sight of him smirking at her. It didn't take much for her to realize Richie had planned this, had been hoping this is how it would play out. She sent a small glare in his direction and didn't even think twice in leaning her head against Bill's while the boy tried to hide his growing blush.

The group walked for a while longer, some of them mumbling their own conversations to one another while Bill and Y/N remained silent and enjoyed the small walk.

"Now that we finally managed to get Richie to stop complaining, I've got to say I'm just as curious as Y/N," Beverly spoke up, glancing between her friends before stopping on Ben. "What is it, Ben?"

"Sorry to disappoint, but it's nothing like what Y/N suggested. However, I think it might be a bit better," Ben said, a small smile growing on his face as he suddenly stopped in a small clearing in the center of the woods.

The group came to a stop and Y/N sat up a bit and leaned an arm against Bill's shoulder which she used to prop up her head. "What are we looking at here, Hanscom?" Y/N questioned.

"Oh, right," Ben said as he snapped out of his daze and hurried over to a small spot in the ground. Y/N couldn't quite understand what he was doing and Bill glanced back at her, the two both sharing a look before realizing how close their faces were and quickly looking away.

Before they knew what was happening, Ben had grabbed ahold of something and pulled it up to reveal some sort of hatch with a hole in the ground. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she watched Ben glance at them before he began to climb into the hole.

"Uhh, whatcha doin' there, Ben?" Stan questioned, walking over to Bill and Y/N in order to help the girl get down.

"Come down!" Ben called out. Everyone left above shared a look before hesitantly staring at the hole. Finally, Y/N let out a small laugh of excitement and broke everyone out of their trance as she skipped over to the hole. She gave them a mock salute before beginning to climb down, the others shaking their heads at her in amusement before following after.

Y/N made it only halfway down the ladder before she managed to piece together what she was walking into. A look of shock appeared on her face as her feet managed to touch the ground. She stepped away from the ladder allowing the others to get down as well while she tried to take in her surroundings which looked to be some sort of clubhouse under ground.

"What the dick is this?" Richie asked as he jumped off the last part of the ladder and onto his feet. He adjusted his glasses and began to walk around while Y/N shook her head at the boy. "How'd you build it?"

"When did you build it?" Bill questioned, scaring Y/N as she realized the boy was standing right beside her. She couldn't stop herself from jumping in surprise and Bill quickly looked at her, a startled and guilty look on his face while Y/N nervously laughed and looked away with red cheeks.

"Here and there, I guess," Ben said with a small shrug as if it were no big deal.

"Ben, this is so cool!" Y/N exclaimed as she hurried over to the boy and gave him a big hug. "It's like our own little Narnia."

"Minus the creepy witch trying to kill us and the talking animals and—" Richie began to list off, but one glare from Y/N had him putting his hands up in surrender.

"It was already dug out from something," Ben said while Y/N let him go. "So I just had to reinforce the walls and get some wood for the uhh. . .for the roof door and that's pretty much it. Pretty good for my first time, huh?" He leaned a hand against one of the wood beams and a piece of the ceiling suddenly broke off and fell to the ground.

Y/N had to jump out of the way and she stumbled into Stan who was quick to catch his cousin and help her stand up right. She sent him a grateful look and wiped the dust off of her shirt before linking her arm with Stan like always.

"Now that's a cool feature," Richie mused. "What happens when you put your hand on the other pillar, Professor?"

"Okay, you see, this is exactly why there are safety codes, why we have permits!" Eddie exclaimed, slapping his hand on top of the palm of his other one for emphasis. "This place is a death trap, you understand that?"

"Right. Well, it's a work in progress, okay, Eddie?" Ben said, his shoulders slumping a bit.

Y/N frowned and gave Stan's arm a small squeeze before moving over to Eddie. "Come on, Eds," she said as she gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down a bit, okay? We're fine. Ben was just trying to do something nice for us and he did all of this by himself. Be a kid for a minute and realize how fucking cool this is."

Eddie glanced at the girl and despite his frown, managed to relax a bit before giving her a small smile. Y/N grinned and wrapped an arm around Eddie's shoulders in order to give him a side hug while the boy weakly tried to push her away while hiding his smile.

"Just know if I get hurt, you are liable," Eddie said as he pointed at Ben. "Also, what is this?" He pulled away from Y/N in order to whack a small metal box. "The switch of the Iron Maiden?"

"That's. . .that's a flashlight," Ben replied.

"And what is that? A horse hitch?" Eddie questioned while Y/N put a hand to her forehead and lightly shook her head. She loved Eddie, but he could be a bit high strung at times. "When do you have horses down—oh, this is cool."

He got distracted from his ranting and picked up a paddle ball. "That was like three dollars so be careful with that please," Ben muttered.

"I have one of these," Eddie said before beginning to play with the object. He bounced the ball as far away as he could and looked to Stan with a smile. "Hey, Stan. You see this?"

"Yeah, okay. Can. . .maybe. . .you not?" Stan asked as he flinched back, the others all watching the two in slight amusement and annoyance.

"Maybe not what?" Eddie questioned as he bounced the ball faster. "Yeah, yeah. Hold on. Maybe I'll not what? Maybe I'll not what? Be awesome and have fun and celebrate the magic of the power of the paddle ball?"

Y/N raised her eyebrows in amusement and was just about to tell Eddie to cut it out when he dropped the paddle to the ground, the ball falling off of the string and rolling across the ground and between some wooden skates in the ground.

Everyone was silent before Y/N let out a loud laugh that had Eddie glaring at her while she stumbled over to them and leaned against Stan for support. "That was on you!" Y/N exclaimed while Eddie pouted.

"Uhh, no. It was Stanley. Good going, fucknut. You broke his thing," Eddie said causing Stan to blink his eyes in surprise band before looking at his friend.

"I broke it?" Stan questioned.

"Yeah, you broke it with your face. Y/N saw," Eddie said as he pointed at the girl who held up her hands in surrender.

"I saw nothing," Y/N insisted earning a smug look from Eddie and a look from Stan that practically screamed 'seriously?'

"I'm not putting my fucking hand down there," Eddie insisted before him and Stan began to argue.

Y/N watched the two in amusement before leaning her arm against Stan's shoulder and turning to look at the others. "Oh, this is going to be fun," she said, a grin appearing on her face while the others began to smile.

Her and the Losers would end up spending half of their summer in there and Y/N would be the one to give the place a name one evening when the group was all joking around and eating the candy Y/N had managed to sneak out of the house with Stan. And that very name would stick for years to come.

The Clubhouse.

* * *

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stateofgrace1303 · 5 years

Text

My chronic illness, how it started.

*Can you guys please reblog and/or tag Taylor?? I really want her to read

this. I want this to get to her and I'll take any help I can get. I rarely ask this but it'd mean to world to me. I wanna get my story

out there (even if this is only a part of the entire story. The rest I

might post sometime if you guys want me too. I think I did include

everything I wanted to for now though). Just thank you all so much!!! I

love you all ❤*

(Im really sorry about how long this is. Its like a little novel. Plus I'm

OCD and tend to talk/rant until it feels just right... I just wanted to

share it with all of you, since its something I would've shared on TSL,

even though it'd probably be too long for there... But I wanted to share it

here because most of those swifties can be found on tumblr, and I want you

all to hear this... Maybe it'll even get to Taylor too. But please read if

you can. It'd mean a lot to me. Also I tried writing this but then it got

deleted when I tried posting it, so hopefully this one posts (I ended up trying to post this ALL DAY. I'm so glad it's finally up).)

Hey Swifties! So, I thought I would post this because its something I'd

post on TSL if it was still around, as I shared pretty much my whole life

on there, and I always found swifties very easy to talk to (plus you're all

just the nicest people)! So, I wanted to share this on here since most

swifties can be found on tumblr. I'm sure i talked a little bit about this

on tsl (my user was stateofgrace1303, same as on here and ig) but I wanted

to tell you guys more, especially because its getting so much more intense

now and like I said I've always found swifties very easy to talk to you.

Basically, when I was 12, my dad took me to see the RED tour at Gillette

Stadium. We had gone to see the Speak Now tour there and I had been

completely wonderstruck (no pun intended) by Taylor that night. I was 10 at

the speak now tour and had idolized Taylor since I was 6 and she put out

TOMG (and I was known as the Taylor Swift girl by now at my school). So

even though I was 10 I asked my dad, if I save up the money will you take

me to see her when she comes again? And he said yes. About 2 weeks before

the show, I had saved up enough. He didn't think i could do it, but I did.

So, I got tickets and we went to the tour. But when I was walking towards

the stadium (we had parked in a lot right down the street), my vision

became weird, almost like tunnel vision although nothing was turning black

around the edges of my vision. My feet looked very far away from me.

Suddenly, a rush of dizziness came over me and instinctively i grabbed onto

my dads arm to keep from falling down. He asked if I was okay and I could

barely get out words for some reason. I was starting to sweat and we

thought maybe i was dehydrated, so we got into the stadium as quickly as

possible. I was gripping onto everything around me to keep from falling,

but eventually we got into the stadium and I got some water. We had seats

on the field, so that's where I was, drinking some water when suddenly I

was pretty sure I was going to throw up. It was starting to get super

uncomfortable so my dad brought my to the first aid, which was actually

right at the enterance on the field. So when we went in there my dad told

them what was going on and they all looked at me weird and said "people

never get sick. We usually treat bee stings and allergic reactions. We

almost never have people get sick" which actually surprised me. But, they

took me back and laid me down. Almost immediately I started puking. The

nurse I had actually had just had a baby and had some anti nausea

medication on her. So, she gave me that but it didn't work. And I just got

worse. My dad went to find me something to eat so I'd have something in my

stomach. He came back with some chips and iced/frozen lemonade but I threw

up every time. I was so dizzy at this point I was gripping onto the bed

they had me on and puking my guts out, as well as sweating a lot. After a

while, as it only got worse, they actually thought I might have had food

posioning and asked what I ate. But there they noticed something. I was

completely white. Like white as a ghost. Except for my lips, which were

turning blue. And I was struggling to breathe. They wanted to take me to

Boston Childrens and my dad asked if I wanted to, but it was Taylor. I

couldn't miss it. So I said no for that reason. But actually, everyone at

the stadium was trying to get me tickets for the show the next night as she

was playing two nights. Security guards, the nurses, my dads girlfriend...

But nobody could get tickets in the end which was okay. But later my dad

went and for a list of everybody's set times. I had been in first aid for

about an hour at this point. He came back with the list and said "I promise

I will not let you miss them" he said and pointed to Ed Sheerans name, then

Taylor, since I was a huge Ed fan as well. He knew I probably wouldn't be

able to stay, but even seeing them for a minute would've been perfect to

me. Another hour had passed, and I was still there in the same condition.

It was terrifying, and they were really pushing me to go to the hospital

(they wanted to call an ambulance because they actually thought something

very bad might happen if they didn't). But I keep pushing that off because

I wanted to see Taylor and Ed so badly. But, 2 hours I had been there in

the same condition, puking up everything, completely white with blue lips,

struggling to breathe, so dizzy I couldn't even sit up. It was starting to

get painful honestly. So, I suddenly just burst out crying. I was just a 12

year old who wanted to see my idol, and I got this... This weird sickness,

and got stuck in first aid. In so much pain. I didn't even really

understand what was happening. I had always been a sick kid. Always getting

colds and infections. In fact, I almost died as a baby from a problem with

my kidneys, and had become septic. Its a miracle I lived. But I had never

experienced anything like this... And to experience it when I was just

trying to see my idol? When it was only my second concert ever? It crushed

me tbh. My dad asked what was wrong and I finally said the words I had been

avoiding all night... "I wanna go home" (which was actually his

girlfriend's house who lived in Boston... I'm from Maine). And he said

"okay". That was all he needed and he left, walking back towards where we

left the car. However, around 7:30ish the traffic in this area is really

weird I cant even explain it. But traffic can only go one way, instead of

both ways like normal.. So he couldn't get a ride back to the car and had

to walk, and then drive the car in traffic all the way to the stadium to

pick me up. So i had to wait a while, and while I did I heard clapping and

then a British voice say "hello Boston" and he started playing give me

love. I listened to him play and i only cried more because I was so

frustrated I couldn't go out there to see him. About half way through the

set, my dad showed up. They let him park in a no parking zone to come and

get me so he was right next to the enterance to the field. They were going

to put me in a wheelchair, but instead my dad came and helped me up. He was

holding me up straight and almost dragged me out of the first aid station,

into the stadium. I remember this part so well. The air hit me, I heard

Ed's voice clearly and saw him on stage, and suddenly, I let go of my dad,

and I was able to stand on my own... And I was fine. It was like a miracle.

I yelled to my dad over the music "is it too late to stay?" And he screamed

back "what??? After all that you wanna stay???" And I said yes, so, we

stayed. He went to go move the car (the girl was so nice who did the

parking, he told her the story, and he just needs to park the car and het

back in the stadium, how much would it cost. And the girl said park

wherever you want no charge. I thought that was seriously the sweetest

thing.) Sooo he did that, and since I was only 12 in a huge stadium, one of

the cops that was patroling the place stayed with me and asked me all kinds

of questions about Ed Sheeran, especially about the A-Team, when he played

it. He said "this isn't his song right?? Is this a cover?? I know this

song." And I told him it wad and told him all about it. It was the ideal

conversation for 12 year old me 😂 Anyway, my dad came back, we got to our

seats, and I actually met Andrea for a very brief moment! And before I knew

it, Taylor was playing. And I had made it through the entire show. I woke

up the next morning, still feeling a little sick but actually felt better

after eating, so I thought the worst was over. But, I was wrong... I didn't

know that one night would become my life... And god I wish I had gone to

the hospital... Maybe I would be okay now if I had... But anyway... A month

later (in August), it happened at my friends end of summer party. Then a

month later (in September), while I was at school... Each time worse than

the time before. Everyone had been informed I was having issues, but nobody

had seen anything happen yet. I seemed like myself. Then one day, I was on

my way to lunch with my friends, and I collapsed in the hallway... Same

thing happening. All my friends freaked out and 2 stayed with me while the

rest went to get the nurse. She actually thought I was dying, and honestly

I could've. She called my mom and said she wasn't sure if she should call

my mom or an ambulance. Then my mom came and got me and immedaitly took me

to my doctor (because she said next time it happens to come in so they

could monitor me). I was monitored and fell asleep, then 4 hours later i

woke up like nothing happened. After that i was pulled out of school and

constantly at the doctor. And I just got sicker and sicker... Which was

later diagnosed as... "Anxiety". By an unqualified doctor. He was a thyroid

doctor and diagnosed me with that?? As time went on, I got incredibly sick

to the point I can't even move. I have become completely disabled and lose

control of my body a lot. It's like my brain is disconnected from my body.

And I get this weird feeling im falling off a cliff and I cant feel my arms

and when that happens, I cant move at all. I cant even express how bad it

can get, how scary and painful it is. I'm a lot sicker than most people

think I am... I spend most days in bed, actually unable to move. I find

ways to keep my spirits up, luckily. Mostly its listening to Taylor and

watching friends but yeah 😂 I have days where I can't even sit up I'm so

dizzy and weak and it hurts so much. Its also terrifying when you don't

have full control over your own body. Absoultely terrifying. Although I

have okay days where I can stand up and function for a little bit, most

days lately have been like this... Bad and living from my bed due to

weakness and dizziness (extreme dizziness honestly). I have days where its

even a struggle to breathe, the most simple thing in the world. It gets

depressing at times... When you spend all ur time in bed or a wheelchair it

really can vet discouraging... But I'm still fighting. And I'm so happy I

am. And like I said, Taylor always lifts me up. Even on my worst, most

disabled and bed ridden days. Oh, that reminds me... I also have seizures

now, sadly. But I hadn't had what happened that night at the RED tour in a

while though... Until one night last year... While I was seeing Ed Sheeran

in Gillette Stadium 😂 Maybe its him?? I dont know 😂 Anyway, I spend most

days in bed, and I do online schooling now. I've seen Taylor twice since

then. For 1989 and for reputation. With 1989 I needed a lot of help but I

got through it. Reputation, it had gotten so bad I needed a wheelchair and

I still do whenever I go out, really. I dont have full control over my body

and I'm too weak and just very sick. I'm really hoping to go to lover fest

but if i do will need a wheelchair and even then I'll probably still feel

sick... But Taylors worth it ❤ Hopefully can get ada seating like with rep.

Wanted to keep this last part short but I think I failed 😂 Mainly wanted

to focus on the red tour. My health story is so incredibly long, I couldn't

say it all (maybe I will later). However, for now, I will tell you this, I

was diagnosed with a thyroid disease, migraines, and seizures. Then it was

discovered that all of this... Was advanced Lyme Disease... And it created

something called Dysautonomia (basically a disfunction of the autonomic

nervous system, which most people don't even realize they have, or how

important it is, until it makes you sick and either nearly kills or

cripples you... Depending on the kind though.) Also known as POTS, or

Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (there are actually 15 kids of

dysautonomia, that being one of them, I might possibly have more than one

kinda, were not sure yet. But its basically half cardiology half

neurology). And there's no cure... I could be this way, this disabled and

sick for a while... But there are treatments that might work luckily!!!

Since there are no Dysautonomia clinics in Maine, I either have to go to

New York, Baltimore, Cleveland, or Minneapolis. So looks like im taking a

trip! Sadly to a hospital, but still 😊 I honestly don't know how we'll pay

for it, but I need it, or I will spend my life like this. So I'm sure we'll

find a way... Like I always seem to do in life, no matter what 😊❤ Oh, and

funny thing is, I have something called PANS as well... So I have Pots and

Pans 😂😂😂 Anyway, I just wanted to share this with you guys because like

I said you guys are always so great and Taylor is my favorite artist so I

wanted to share it with the people who understand my love for her. I've

been a huge fan of her for 13 years (I'm 18, 19 next month, now). Theres

something about her... She's always helped me but especially now. She makes

me so happy and feel so safe during this time... Im fact, the only time i

smile like i did when I was younger,before all of this, is when I listen to

Taylor. I even have a Long Live tattoo on my wrist because I felt it

represented my love for her the most, and what we've made as a fandom, the

magic we've created. Plus, it reminds me that I'm fighting my battle (this

"dragon") with Taylor and her music on my side, as well as all of you. And

it makes me smile. I can't wait to get more Taylor tattoos... Honestly,

after all of this and the other health issues I faced as a baby and a

child, I can't believe I'm still here, that I'm still living... Especially

because since I've always been so sick with so many different illnesses and

health issues to the point I'm disabled, my immune system is so weak. I

truly cannot believe I'm still here. But... I guess my body just isn't

ready to give up. It hasn't yet at least!!! And it doesn't want to. It

won't. I'm strong. Me, and my body, want to fight until the very end. And

I'm grateful for that. So grateful that I am still alive, and still

fighting every day of my life. It might be hard, and I can't function or do

really anything but lay in bed and watch tv most days, but I'm just so

thankful that I'm still alive, that it's okay I have to be at the doctors

so much and have to take all these meds (I do anything at this point that

can help me even the slighest). And no matter what life throws at my

health, my body always fights it and gets right back up. I fall down 10

times, I stand up 11. And I could not have the courage and strength to do

this if it wasn't for my idol, Taylor Swift. I've been a fan of Taylor for

13 years (I'm 18 now, 19 next month) so her and her music have helped me

through every problem I have ever faced, and this is no different. She has

a song for everything, so I can always find something to listen to that

makes me feel like she understands and she's telling me it'll be okay...

And ever since LOVER came out, I've been listening to soon you'll get

better on days its really bad, and my girlfriend sends me that song on bad

days too... It makes me feel safe. And like I can fight this. Thank you,

Taylor. I will never be able to repay you. I may struggle with this every

single day im here on earth, but with your music and the support I feel

from the swiftie fam, I know I'll get through it. Anyway... I guess I

should end this here. Again, sorry this is so long but if you read this

thank you so much for taking the time to!! If you made it to this point,

I'm proud 😂❤ And it means the world to me, you have no idea. Im hoping

this will get to Taylor and maybe even Ed one day. I love you all so much

and once again, thank you for reading!! ❤❤❤

@taylorswift @taylornation 🌈❤ @taylornotices 💜

(Pic is from when I was in First Aid at Ed Sheeran. It was so bad there

they had to give me an IV. I was in the first aid station, wrapped up in my

nightmare before Christmas blanket, on a stretcher with an IV in my hand

pretty much the entire night. It was so painful. When I arrived to first

aid I was actually unresponsive. Like I knew what was happening but I

couldn't talk or open my eyes. All I could do was make very small

movements. It felt like my body was shutting down. I was having bad heart issues as well and they wanted to give me a medicine fot my nausea but since I had lyme disease it could make my heart issues worse so they had to give me an EKG... Right there at the concert 😂 Interesting... But, I got through it.

Like always 😊 So yeah thats where the

picture is from ❤)

#taylurking #taylorswift #taylorstans #taylornation #red #redtour #edsheeran #lymedisease #dysautonomia #taylorlurking #i love you taylor #tay #usertaylornotices #tswift

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starbide · 4 years

Text

Inspiration below. The following is a work of fiction.

'Six years,' I thought to myself walking down the road. It had rained earlier that evening, but by now the clouds were long gone. The pavement shimmered in the waxing moonlight, still slick with the water of those vanished clouds. I would not slip; the road was mostly level as it lazily stretched down the gentle hill behind me, and the streetlamps cast in gold what the moon would otherwise leave dim. The world was silent.

'It's hard to believe I've been gone that long,' I continued, step by step. Six years since I'd moved away for my career. Six years since I'd left my family behind. 'Left her behind,' I smirked to myself, passing a large bush on my right. Houses stood dark and serene on either side, all daily activities complete and put to rest. No cars joined me on the waterlogged street, preferring the concrete comfort of their driveways and garages. I approached and passed under another hazy lamp.

It was cool out, a gentle breeze brushed past the wool of my jacket without raising a single goose bump. I paid it no mind; I was always a bit warmer blooded than others in my circle. My best friend for most of my school years couldn't understand my ability to wear shorts comfortably year-round. 'Those were the days,' I mused, thinking back to the last time we'd seen each other. It had to be more than a decade at this point, long before I'd moved north for work and expanded my wardrobe to include legwear longer than my knees.

I reached an intersection and paused. Four ways, no direction more enticing or foreboding than the next. A lamp at every corner, and the bus station deserted save by its sign across the diagonal. The station I'd waited at patiently every morning for that bright yellow school bus, before I'd ever met my old bestie. It was just me and one other kid, a rather scrawny looking boy who had been in most of my elementary grades but with whom I'd never really gotten on with. We'd shared classes, teachers, and the occasional pencil or marker, but never played together outside of academia. He'd moved away much longer than a decade ago. Now I was really delving into my memory, faded as it was with time.

I checked my phone: 11:57 PM in small white font. My first night back home, I should be exhausted. This wasn't my normal time zone and airplane seats aren't exactly memory foam, but I'd found a second wind after dinner and took to the night after my folks had gone to bed themselves. Sure, I'd been physically gone for six years, but we'd stayed in touch off and on since I'd left. Maybe five months back was our last video call. We'd talked about me taking this trip, now that things had settled down and my life was much more under control. Things had been wild for a while, and if all went according to plan at work things would become wild again not too far down the line. Which reminded me, I needed to make another appointment when I returned home. Couldn't go running out of my prescription again.

A brief twitch of motion caught my eye, and I peered down the leftward lane. One of the bulbs had burned out a few dozen meters down, and in this larger pool of darkness something had moved. At least I thought it had, but my eyes could be playing tricks on me with the shadows. One dark spot moving erratically through a larger, differently dark spot wasn't exactly proof of anything. But of course, my heartbeat quickened regardless. Base human instinct, I suppose. Spot a motion in the dark, prepare to act to either fight or flee.

That hallucination had triggered something else in me though. A memory, unconsciously bidden, rose up behind my eyes. That kid, the little one I'd shared a bus stop with for years, I did not recall being nice to often. Many times, I'd engaged in common teasing, and he always took it personally. A couple times he'd even cried, but I'd never gotten in much trouble for it. A different time I supposed. That sort of behavior wouldn't fly nowadays, and that's good. I felt a bit sick thinking back about it, as it was now clear I'd been a bit of a bully. What it hadn't been was a wake-up call for my parents, who didn't get me the help I had so desperately needed until much later in my teens. I was better now, better enough to see what I'd done back then was very wrong. I couldn't remember all of it, but that boy's tears had stuck with me. I wonder what happened to him?

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts and calm my pulse, I opted for the path in front. This route would wind close to the park, after a couple turns beyond my current field of vision. Crossing the street, I didn't even bother looking left or right, as the night was so quiet and empty, I could hear a car coming from miles away, if there were any to hear. A rock lay in the far side gutter; I kicked it just to give my ears some stimulation. It knocked against the cement curb and bounced across puddles thin as saran wrap to a rest. By then I'd already forgotten about it and left that intersection behind.

Another thought was creeping up from my subconscious, this one more distasteful than the last. I'd left a girl behind when I moved for work, and the breakup hadn't been pleasant. She'd been very upset, naturally, and felt betrayed I was abandoning her like that. Abandoning. It had been her word, not mine, but with the clarity of distance I could see she was right. It had been years since I'd considered how we ended, and I wasn't sure what spurred those thoughts just now, but after what I'd done to her, I could accept she was right.

Still though, rounding the first turn, my leaving her should have been a good thing. Now that the floodgates of memory were open, I may as well dive right in. She'd been so hurt by my sudden departure because I'd systematically isolated her from her friends and much of her family too. She'd grown more and more attached to me, and I'd encouraged that through some particularly devilish means. I didn't know about the term 'gaslighting' at the time, but that was a polite way of putting it. I'd been very proficient at psychological manipulation back then, and my desire for control over her life could have consumed us both. At the end, she'd only had limited contact with her sister, who had been rightly concerned about her but too terrified of me to do anything to stop me. Looking back, I can't blame her. I now believe it was good that I left when I did. I hope she realized the same, though I haven't heard from her since.

Now the road turned left, arcing gradually around a thicker cluster of trees. This walk was turning out to be less relaxing than I'd hoped. The smallest things seemed to be dredging up thoughts and old memories in me, and none of them were painting me in the best light. Being my thoughts, maybe that was the best light I could possibly be presented in. Maybe their memories of me, the version of me still living in their mind, was far worse than I could imagine on this unassuming suburban night. I'd read somewhere that we're all the hero of our own story, and of course the hero never thinks they're the villain. But I'm sure that's what I am in at least a few people's stories. I'm starting to feel like the villain in my own.

Opening up ahead of me is the park, and the wide-open fields I remember so well. This area is less well lit, with streetlamps only illuminating the edges of the grass and allowing the moon to bathe the world in dead white. In reality, this is only sunlight reflected, but from the moon it feels much less like the bright star that gives this planet life. Like Luna itself, it feels cold and impersonal, like it wouldn't actively try to end my life but also wouldn't even notice if I merely faded away into the ether. I'd had some trouble with those thoughts as well over the years, before I got help. And now, rushing back to me, I remember they were also why I lost my best friend.

He and I had been out for the evening, playing some game with a few other friends. The game had ended, and we were walking home together when a car had rushed past us. Neither he nor I were injured, but it had been close and the driver had continued on recklessly. After it rounded the corner, we'd both heard a large thumping sound, followed by the rapidly diminishing roar of its engine. After a quick glance between us we'd rushed around the corner ourselves to see a big yellow dog crumpled up in the drain. Not losing a moment we hurried up to it, but we needn't have rushed. It had most likely died on impact, before we even saw it.

My friend had knelt down next to it to try and save it, even though it was hopeless. He must have known, but it's only natural to want to help another life. At least, it is for me now, and it was for him then. I remember him crouched over the dog, tears in his eyes when he accepted what happened, and then he looked up at me. His tears ebbed and his face froze in fear at what he saw, but he couldn't say anything to me at the time. We walked home in uncomfortable silence after that, and said a short awkward goodbye. Truth be told, that's the last time we spoke to each other in person.

Thinking of the next part, I felt a chill run deep into my core. I remembered now what he told me, over text message later that night. He'd bent over the dog and been so distraught because he knew it. He'd checked the tag to be sure, but it was his neighbor's dog that he'd grown up playing with. I think he'd even muttered its name a couple times, but I'm not sure. But when he looked up at me, he said I had the biggest grin he'd ever seen. The look on my eyes was not maniacal, as some would think, but dead, not present. As if the dog dying had brought out a whole new face in me, as if the lights were on but nobody was home, and yet the lights still wanted to kill you. It had terrified him, and it was all he could do not to sprint from me that moment without looking back. I don't think he ever knew how right he'd been back then, something that took me years to realize and longer to overcome.

I quietly walked to the center of the field, as far from the streetlights as possible, and looked up. The moon provided none of the same dangers as the sun when staring straight at it, and I took a few moments to just gaze at it and let my thoughts sort themselves out. I'd been a monster in my childhood, a terror in my youth, before I found my doctor and we set out on a years-long journey to get me better. Any other time I'd have kept on that dangerous path, ruining some lives and possibly ending others. That had all changed, thanks to my incredible fortune and a lot of hard work, but with the clarity of hindsight I could see just how close to the precipice I'd come. How I'd always be there in the minds of childhood mates and adolescent connections. And this was just what I could remember now. There was no way for me to know how many other monstrous versions of me still lived in any number of former classmates.

In the corner of my eye, I saw another twitch in the shadows. Jerking my head down, I followed the motion to the foot of the trees, the darkest spot on the field. This time there was no mistake; there was definitely an object moving there, slowly but surely. My heartbeat shot up and my throat swelled as I bent my knees and got into a defensive posture. The object lumbered forward, moving without haste but with purpose. When it came into the light, I was surprised to see a little boy with a scratched-up shirt and messy brown hair. Standing up in confusion, I was certain I'd seen him somewhere before. Step by step, I focused on every detail I could make out in the gloom, before it hit me like the car that last night walking home.

That boy was dressed, to the letter, the exact same way I had on picture day in third grade. My hair had been an untamable brown mess, and even the cheap novelty watch was the same. I was more perplexed than anything now, as I couldn't understand for the life of me what a kid was doing in that field, at midnight, wearing clothes that weren't even made any more. That was until he spoke, and his voice froze my blood in its veins.

It was like whispers, floating around my head, and several voices all at once and all taking turns being the loudest. They were all his, but not really. His mouth had opened and his lips were framing the syllables, but it was my voice from so many years ago repeating every taunt, every tease, every foul nickname I'd ever given that scrawny boy who shared a bus stop with me. Who'd cried, not once or twice, but dozens of times. Who'd gone home often with scrapes and tears in his clothes personally inflicted by myself. I had terrorized him for years of his early life, and what I saw before me must be what I forever lived as in his memory.

But if that were true, then this kid in front of me couldn't be real. I had to be hallucinating again, I must have been more exhausted than I'd allowed myself to feel. He sure looked real, though, and his footsteps were matting the grass in a way I didn't trust my mind to make up. But the ghostly, strangled voices of my younger self crashing in waves into my ears gave the entire scene a surreal feeling, making the hair on the back of my neck stick up like electricity. I couldn't bring myself to step away, and I sure as hell wasn't going to walk forward to meet him. It. Whatever it was I was seeing, real or not.

Only a few meters away, he stopped moving. Swallowing bile, I could do little more than watch him as the voices continued to echo in my ears, unchanged by his distance all this time. Then I spotted another motion far off to my right, and then a third to my left. Glancing quickly between them, I determined that they were both noticeably older than the child before me, one by a few more years than the other. They too walked slowly towards me, bringing their own voices to the forefront. Despite the dozens of voices I now thought I was hearing, every word registered clearly in my mind. One was speaking about my old best friend and the dog, the other repeated every lie I ever told my ex-girlfriend before leaving. As if their mere presence in my eyes were not enough, hearing my old, hateful words repeated to me in my own voice almost made me vomit with fear and disgust.

They too, stopped approaching me at the same distance as the child. As they did, dozens more similar hallucinations emerged from the trees and surrounding neighborhood, all carrying their own chorus of hate and venom and bringing back new, abhorrent memories of my youth. Terrorizing a girl in my 4th grade class. Catching squirrels in my early teens and setting them on fire, then getting caught myself. Giving that kindergartner a major concussion on a dare, after my best friend had ceased speaking to me. Even one similar in age to myself now, though he brought words of loss and failure, and of betrayal to my parents. That must have been right before my breakthrough, with the doctor and an early test version of my current prescription. I was better now. I had to be. But why was I seeing all of this, all of these versions of me locked in the minds of everyone who I'd left behind in my life? My trail of destruction?

They had all stopped walking now, forming a tight semicircle around me. The voices still buzzed in my ears, but slowly they faded to an indistinguishable babble. I tried to speak, but my throat had caught a bubble, so I gulped fruitlessly and closed my mount again. The thoughts racing through my mind had no similar handicap, as my mind shouted repeatedly the same things. Who are you all? Why is this happening? What are you doing to me?

The version of me who gaslit my girl took a couple steps forward, as if presenting himself as the leader. I had no time to process what this might mean before he spoke, in a much clearer form than any of these hallucinations had yet. "We are you. We are you that you left behind, trapped in the minds of those you hurt, frozen in time from the moment you left us years or decades ago. We have had no life to live, no chance to grow and thrive, no possibility to leave the prisons of mind which you left us in, being tortured again and again by those you tortured without remorse and without recompense. We cannot sit by from behind our bars as you continue to enjoy the life you stole from us all."

"I didn't know I was doing this!" I cried, finally able to break the blockade in my throat. "I was a monster, I know that well now, and I've spent years trying to recover from the damage I've done!" I felt foolish, yelling out into the night at visions only visible to myself. 'All this work, all this progress,' I cried to myself. 'This will set me back months if not more, and I can only hope my medication doesn't fail like I have.'

The same me looked down at the ground and shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, but you must know how little that matters to us. You've lived a life of freedom from any repercussions and locked us away to suffer in your place. You've flaunted that fact with your precious medical tools and until tonight, hadn't even remembered us or what you did to torture and imprison us. We are here now for the life that you stole from us, to end the torture you sentenced us to and walked away from yourself unscathed." He took another step forward, his face growing menacing.

"I don't know what that means," I cried, shaking my head as the tears started to drop. This was starting to feel all too real, and fear was expanding like a balloon deep into my core. "I don't know what any of this means. What do you want from me!?"

Another step. "We want your life," the gaslighter said mirthlessly. "We all want your life, the life wrongly denied us time and time again. And you will learn what it means to be ripped apart and put back together, over and over again. Tortured yourself for what you did to so many people in your life. You gave us to them to burn, to break, to grind down into dust and be restored only to do it all over tomorrow. You tortured them, and then you gave them us to work their revenge on, day after day with no hope of an end. And the most unforgivable of all was giving the youngest of you away to feel this pain the longest. Over two decades have the youngest of us been taken to pieces, shattered in mind and body and soul for your carelessness and your fleeting experiments in sociopathy. This will end tonight."

I could say nothing, the terror burning white on my face. If this was a hallucination, it was the worst one I'd ever had and I had no idea how I'd survive it. It was far too realistic, far too deadly for me to think of anything else, any of the tricks and tools my doctor had given me. What had happened to cause this? I swear I never missed a day on my prescription, and these memories... Where had they all been before? Why had I not been able to recover them and work through them with my doctor? Were they even real? Was this me, standing only a meter away now, real? Or was he only real in my mind, and if he wanted to hurt me would that distinction make a difference? I reached out my hand, reaching toward his arm slack against his torso...

And he reached out and took my wrist like a vice. Ice cold and unflinching, he held my arm up in front of me and closed the gap between us imperceptibly fast. "You may have many regrets. I have only one," he said in a low, bloodthirsty voice. "While there are dozens of us gathered here, dozens you sentenced to eternal damnation without a second thought, only one of us may live this life. I may not be the youngest of your victims, I may not give you the longest time in the torture you gave us, but I intend to fight with everything you have put me through these long years. Your life is mine."

As he growled in my face, a white-hot streak of terror shot through me and I pushed him back with almost reflexive strength. He staggered, rebalanced, then looked at me with cannibalistic hunger in his eyes. He panted twice, then screamed and lunged at my neck. With adrenaline now coursing through me, I turned and sprinted away from the gathering, hearing the pounding of footsteps deep in my brain. He had grabbed my arm. I glanced at it as I reached the sidewalk and saw a chalk white handprint etched into my grayish skin. The urge to vomit came back, but I managed to fight it down as I kept up a faster pace than I'd ever run before. The swarm of my past, tortured selves was hot on my heels, like starved dogs following fresh game. Any loss in my speed and I'd be eaten alive, or worse. I truly did not know what would happen if they caught me, and my mind was too far gone to even entertain the idea of hallucinations any more.

I rounded the next curve and thought the sound of the pack was a little quieter than before. It still sounded like pure rage and bloodlust, but with fewer voices than before. Thinking it was only a few stragglers being blocked by the trees, I kept up the fastest pace I could, not even feeling my feet hit the ground. Another hundred meters of straightaway and it was definitely growing less loud with each step. The roar was diminishing, no trees to hide the sound now, but it was still a roar. By now a cramp had begun to grow in my stomach, and no matter what I did I felt myself losing speed. Every few steps I could burst forward faster again, but I couldn't maintain the same rocket pace as before. To my ears, though, as my speed gradually fell, so did the volume of my pursuers. By the time I got to the intersection, it only sounded like a couple of me were still hunting, and I could count their individual footsteps. It was at this time I chanced a look behind, just to know what was still coming.

Right on my neck was him, the gaslighter. He grinned at me, his face less than a meter away. I felt that same shock explode throughout my body and I shot forward, faster than before if possible, fully terrified again now that I knew he and he alone was here for me. I kept running and running, past houses, lanes, and bushes. Still no signs of life from any houses, no cars rumbling down the road or creaking into place in a driveway. The night was as empty and uncaring as before, and only myself and the predator I had been broke the gentle midnight breeze. My legs thundered on, screaming in pain in their own way, but I didn't stop or look back again until I'd reached my family's old house a few blocks down.

Now truly running on empty, I turned back to face my hunter, but he was gone. Disappeared. Evaporated into the night, nowhere to be seen. The moon still hung high, reflecting some small percentage of sunlight down to me, and the streetlamps bathed the road and yards in amber light. He wasn't hiding from me, he hadn't overtaken me. There was no shortcut to the house, it was a straight shot from the park. He was simply gone, faded back into the night from which he'd come without a trace. If he'd ever really been there at all, and not merely a hallucination from exhaustion or medication or... I didn't even know any more. I just knew that he was gone, just gone, just gone.

"Hey, are you okay?" A voice called out to me. I jumped, but only in surprise. It was a familiar voice, but not familiar like my own. It sounded like my dad, and I heard large, calm footsteps walk toward me from our front door.

"Yeah," I said, although it was little more than a whisper. I buckled over, fell to my hands and knees, and felt the cramps and burning in my lungs catch up to me as the adrenaline faded away. I felt like vomiting, for the third time that night, but this time it was easier to fight the urge than before. I got some deep breaths in as I panted on the ground, slowly but surely recovering from my insane dash moments before.

My dad walked up in front of me, wearing the same well-worn brown leather shoes he'd owned since before I left. I didn't want to worry him about this night, and what I thought I saw in the park. Not when my recovery was going so well. Not when a lapse like this would mean months of work just to get back to where I was only an hour ago. "I'm okay dad, I just went for a walk. Then I saw how late it was and tried to get back as fast as I could. I guess I'm not the athlete I used to be, eh?" I tried to lift my head up to give him a weak smile, but still couldn't raise it much higher than his waist

He chuckled softly, and sounded a little strange. Still sleepy maybe, I guess I woke him up coming back here, and maybe I was screaming too. I don't know any more, I don't know what was real any more. But he knelt down in front of me after I dropped my head again, still exhausted, and said, "That's okay sport, I think we both know your real talents weren't on the field. I learned that lesson very well over the past six years."

#horror #creepypasta

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